Chapter Text
Hermione
Draco Malfoy had spent the last hour in Hermione’s office prattling on about the Hinkypunk Music Festival, their next collaborative project. The lineup was just released and his excitement rivalled that of a Niffler in a jewellery shop. She smiled to herself as he chattered away.
“This is an A-list lineup, Granger.”
“So you’ve said, Malfoy.”
She was finalising her review of last week’s blunder. A miscast charm at the Magical Menagerie ended up with the streets of Muggle London being flooded with familiars and pets of all sorts. The Obliviator and the Invisibility Task Force members spent four days tracking down all the Muggles who witnessed the event. As director of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, Hermione had to sign off and audit their reports. She could have finished an hour ago, but the blond was traipsing around her office, rambling on and on about headliners and opening acts.
“Stop pacing, I’m nearly finished.” She was searching for the final page of the report, which had gotten lost amongst the clutter on her desk when Draco made his way over and picked up the errant page without missing a beat. She could feel his gaze as she signed the parchment and placed it in its proper file. In the past year, he had become a constant in her life. His position with the Department of Extraordinary Affairs meant their paths crossed often. He had inherited his family’s penchant for event planning and most wizarding world events fell under his jurisdiction, whether it be galas, Quidditch matches or – on occasion -- birthday parties. Their unlikely friendship following the war was a shock to everyone.
“Oi!”
The door flew open as Ron strutted in holding up the pink flyer.
“Malfoy, have you seen this —”
“Lineup? I was just telling Granger how this is the best we’ve seen in years and she’s —“
“She was in the middle of finishing up a report before you clamoured in here going on about the festival, distracting me.”
“I was merely updating you with pertinent information on our next joint venture.” He shrugged, unaffected by the annoyance in her voice.
She blew an errant curl out of her face, rolling her eyes in his direction. The festival was indeed an affair that needed to be overseen by her department due to the magnitude of the event. They would be working closely to ensure the Statute of Secrecy was maintained. Although his constant presence could be counterproductive at times, she can’t say she minded the company terribly.
“Come on, ‘Mione. It’s Friday, everyone else has left the office already!”
“Not all of us have the pleasure of working without the pressure of deadlines, Ronald.”
Draco placed a warm hand on her lower back as he walked past. It sent a buzz of electricity up her spine and she flinched slightly, surprised at the sensation. She looked over to see if he had noticed, but Draco was already busy drafting a schedule of must-see artists with Ron.
She felt a tug in her chest as she watched the two men huddled together. It hadn’t always been this way. Years after the war, the two of them had continued their schoolyard rivalry on the basis of Muggleborn rights. Ron had always been fiercely loyal and he could not understand how, after years of calling Hermione a ‘Mudblood’ and fighting on the wrong side of the war, she had forgiven him. He struggled to believe Draco had actually changed. Whenever the subject came up, Draco countered that people like him are never given the chance to change post-war and Ron should get off his high horse. It all eventually devolved into an argument about the influences of their formative years before landing on the similarities of their overbearing and overprotective mothers. They had been friends ever since.
As Hermione sorted the last of her documents, she smiled to herself. She never thought the day would come when Draco Malfoy would have a willing and civil interaction with Ron Weasley. It filled her with peace and happiness to see how far they had all come.
She grabbed her bag and was walking towards the former rivals when Draco plucked it out of her hands and slung it over his shoulder.
“Malfoy, I am perfectly capable of —“
“I know you are, but you don’t have to do everything alone.” He grinned, eyes sparkling with mirth.
”A true gent, this one.” Ron teased, tipping an invisible hat.
She felt her cheeks flush as she awkwardly debated what to do with her hands now that she had nothing to hold. She ended up clapping them once and heading for the door past the two men.
“Shall we?”
Ron sniggered when she passed. She let the door swing back swiftly, hoping that it would clock the annoying redhead as it did.
Draco
The Hog’s Head was the usual Friday night spot for their crew. Theo, Pansy, and Blaise were already congregated at their usual table in the back. Draco, Hermione, and Ron made their way towards the Slytherins, hearing their excited voices.
“So…Hinkypunk.”
“The lineup looks phenomenal!”
“All of our favourites in one place!”
Draco raised an eyebrow at Granger as he took the seat at the head of the table. Half finished glasses of Butterbeer and whiskey sat in front of his former housemates. It was easier than he expected when the two houses started tolerating each other's company. Given their years in school, they meshed surprisingly well.
“Granger is less than impressed.” Draco smirked, taking a sip of Blaise’s drink.
“Now hold on.” Hermione held her finger up in annoyance. “I never even saw who was performing because I was busy finishing the Menagerie case. Some of us work during work hours, Malfoy.” Her face flushed in indignation as she grabbed the flyer from Ron’s hands, nearly spilling his drink.
“Watch it, ‘Mione!”
Draco watched her eyes scanning the parchment - growing brighter as she made it down the list.
“The Banshees?? Boggart Dreams? Love Incendio??” She looked up from the list of artists, her eyes like sparkling pools of amber. He couldn’t look away, holding her gaze longer than was appropriate. Her cheeks flushed before she broke the trance as Potter and the Weaselette walked in.
“Saw the headliners, did you?”
Potter slid into the booth next to Theo as Ginny slipped behind Pansy to kiss her on the cheek.
“The Harpies have a bye that weekend so I should be able to have the time off.”
Draco could see Hermione was already lost in her head planning for worst-case scenarios at an event of this scale. Her gaze was unfocused, her bottom lip between her teeth and her legs bouncing to the rhythm of her racing thoughts. He’d grown familiar with these moments when he could see her mind in action. He was rather fond of it.
“My family has a chateau not far from the festival grounds should we need a place to stay,” He shared nonchalantly, avoiding Blaise’s knowing gaze. “We could easily apparate back and forth as needed.”
When Draco looked back at Hermione, she was reading over the flyer once more with surprise written on her face.
“Did you know the festival was being sponsored by the McLag—“
He grabbed the sheet and scanned it, groaning.
“Brilliant. Just what we need. ” He dropped his head back in exasperation. He enjoyed the times his job aligned with Granger’s – but less so when it involved McLaggen.
“Don’t be an arse, Malfoy.”
She sighed as she got up to get a drink. He waited a moment before deciding to get up and follow. He approached cautiously as she placed her order.
“Are you saying you didn’t know he was sponsoring this event beforehand?” Draco asked casually leaning against the bar facing her.
“It may come as a surprise to you, Malfoy, but I don’t, in fact, know it all.”
He scoffed and signalled the server for a glass of Ogden’s. “You’re telling me ‘The Golden Girl’ is not aware of the goings on at the Ministry when it involves Cormac McLaggen?” Draco sneered with an eye roll, reaching his hand to touch her brow. “Are you well??”
She laughed as the barkeep served their drinks. Just as Draco was about to continue to pester her about the festival, a foreign arm snaked around her waist from behind, drawing her in and away from his side.
“Who’s buying?” McLaggen drawled, peppering kisses up the side of her neck. She giggled, turning towards the git. Draco’s eyes narrowed as he grabbed his drink to return to their table, retreating from the nauseating scene. Going by the uneasy stares his mates were giving him, he knew Granger and that insufferable twit was not far behind.
The unfortunate coupling started about a year ago – right around the time Draco had been offered his position at the Ministry. Allegedly, she and McLaggen had reconnected after McLaggen’s family charity had started sponsoring more and more events supporting causes for which she advocated. Gone were the days of hiding from sloppy snogs at the Slug Club.
“McLaggen,” Potter acknowledged with a nod of his head.
“So what are you tossers up to? Don’t tell me this is another one of your game nights.” He mocked. “I’d rather poke my own eyes out.” Granger elbowed Cormac in the side, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“Gladly,” Draco said under his breath. Blaise smirked behind his glass.
“We were actually making plans for the Hinkypunk Festival. The lineup is cracking.”
“Like that do you, Weasley? I figured if I had a say, I’d have to include most of my bird’s favourite performers.” McLaggen winked at Granger as he pulled her closer.
Draco’s eye twitched as the brutish Scot grabbed the drink from her hands and took a rather long pull before returning it to her.
“Malfoy, I hear we get the opportunity to work together this time around. If you need recommendations on where to stay while in town for the festival, I’d be happy to oblige.” He slid both arms around Hermione’s waist as he eyed Draco.
“Draco actually offered up his chateau for the weekend. We prefer something a little more upscale than what you’re used to.” Pansy winked at Draco before dragging Ginny onto her lap.
“You mean the Ministry didn’t reclaim that property after the war? My, my Draco, aren’t we lucky? Or did the Malfoy vault have influence over that?” He winked as he reached for another sip of his girlfriend’s Butterbeer. Draco’s jaw clenched.
Hermione looked mortified and stole her drink back. “ Cormac.”
“Château des Sables Éternels is in fact one of our remaining properties. It should be able to accommodate us all if that works for you, Granger.”
There was a hum of agreement at the table. McLaggen, looking slightly put out, turned to Hermione.
“Well as fun as it has been to be around you lot, I think I would much rather be spending some one on one time with the Golden Girl.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, her face and neck blooming crimson.
“Merlin, I need another drink.” As Potter downed the last of his firewhiskey, Hermione said her farewells while avoiding Draco’s eyes. When the door to The Hog’s Head closed behind them, he ambled up to the bar for another round in hopes of erasing the image of Cormac pawing and grabbing at her.
When he rejoined his friends, he was met with pitying stares.
”How you holding up, mate?” Blaise clapped him on the back.
“Grand. Bloody grand.” He scowled, relishing the burn of whiskey down his throat.
“You know, hypothetically speaking, I may know of people that could orchestrate an unfortunate portkey accident.” Ron winked, mischief twinkling in his eyes.
”For fuck’s sake, Ron. We work at the DMLE.” Harry pinched the bridge of his nose.
He raised his hands innocently. ” Hypothetically. I said hypothetically, Harry.” Draco huffed in amusement.
”Saying ‘hypothetically’ doesn’t actually grant you clemency, Weasel.” Theo rolled his eyes while rubbing his boyfriend’s back. Ron shrugged it off, winking at Draco again.
”How am I supposed to work under that wanker for the next few months?” He loved that his job meant he’d be working with Hermione more often than not. However, working with her while working for her boyfriend was dodgy territory.
”You think she’ll still stay with us at the chateau? Or will Cormac be arranging separate accommodations?”
“I don’t know, Parks. I’m sure the bastard will do anything to get her away from us.”
”Then you’ll just have to do the same to him. An eye for an eye right?”
“I think you mean all’s fair in love and war, Weasley.” Blaise countered.
Draco looked around at his friends as he considered what they were saying before raising his glass.
”To war, then.”