The Other Way Around

Granger had decided to step out with Potter for her lunch break. Draco hung back at the office, quickly heading towards the break room and sincerely hoping that Zabini would step out as well. He grabbed a mug off the counter and filled it to the brim with hot tea. He took a quick whiff before tasting it: it was English Rose. Crinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue in disgust, he dumped it down the sink.

"Wasting is bad," came a sing-song voice from behind him. Draco groaned inwardly, rolling his eyes before turning around to face the person who spoke to him.

"Have you even left here in the past two hours?" he asked irritably.

"Of course I have." Perks shoved her hair, which was probably more platinum blonde than his own, out of her eyes. Draco detested that habit. "I just came in" - shove - "here to fill my mug." Shove. She waved the empty mug in front of his face. Draco rinsed his own mug out before reaching for the caffeinated coffee. Perks stood next to him, waiting for her turn to pour. Draco hesitated before handing it to her, grudgingly remembering how Granger had voiced the words he'd been thinking for years. He handed it to her, knowing that he'd regret it when she began to speak so fast that her voice would squeak.

"So," she said conversationally after filling up her cup. She perched against the counter, staring at Draco as he sipped his coffee. "How goes the training?"

"Oh, it's peachy," he replied. "Granger catches on quick. She's already organised her cubicle. Everything is so neat; it's actually quite frightening. She's managed to make her tiny little cubicle look like a full-fledged office, and she was only in there for twenty minutes." He took another sip of coffee before adding bitterly, "Bloody great show-off is what she is. Always has been, you know."

"Oh, I think" - shove - "she's wonderful," Perks said airily. "She used to help me in" - shove - "Transfiguration before seventh year, you know. Very" - shove - "ambitious girl back then." Shove. "I see that hasn't" - shove - "changed now, has it?" Shove.

"Ambition is the last refuge of failure," Draco spat, quoting something his father used to tell him before the Dark Lord rose again. The Malfoys had never needed ambition; everything had just come to them.

Perks was looking at him oddly. Rolling his eyes, Draco glared at her, hoping she'd get the message to continue. Evidently she did, for she said: "Oscar Wilde said that." Shoving her fringe out of her eyes, she continued, "He was a Muggle author and playwright. Where" - shove - "on earth did you hear that?" Draco stared determinedly at the single freckle at the end of her nose, ignoring the hand that flew to her fringe as much as possible. If she continued to do that, he might smack her.

"I heard it once," he lied, now feeling mildly disgusted that he - and his father - had been quoting a Muggle all these years. "Just stuck with me."

"Oh, goodness." Perks stepped towards him, looking a tad irritated. Her free hand rose to his forehead and pushed back a single stray hair that he'd only noticed when she pointed it out. "I'm sorry, Draco, but" - shove - "that was bothering me." Shove. "I hate when people have hair" - shove - "in their eyes." Shove. "It's a pet peeve of mine." Shove!

His own hand flew up and he barely stopped himself from slapping her hand. Fighting down all desires, he attempted a smirk and patted her hand gingerly. "Oh, I agree," he said coolly. "It's one of the worst things imaginable. Don't you have some work to do?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, a whole" - shove - "bunch of trace on the" - shove - "Walker homicide." She filled her cup and flounced out of the coffee room, waving good-bye brightly as she went. Draco looked down at his coffee, the bitter taste of it lingering on his tongue. Sneering to himself, he dumped it down the drain.

When lunch break ended, he headed back to his office. Zabini was already inside, sitting at Draco's desk in his chair, and he was mindlessly aiming his wand at Draco's painting. All of the people within it now had identical black moustaches. "Zabini!" Draco bellowed, whipping out his own wand to undo the damage.

"Relax, Malfoy," Zabini said lazily. "It comes right off."

"Get out of my chair," he hissed, and to his surprise, Zabini obliged and moved around to sit on the other side. "Is Granger here yet?"

"I haven't seen her."

"Oh, she's late!" Draco said gleefully, taking a small roll of parchment out of a desk drawer and dipping his quill in his ink. "That won't look too great-"

"You can put the quill away, Malfoy," said Granger from his doorway, her tone just as bossy as usual. "If you would check your pocket watch, you'd realize that I have forty-five seconds left on lunch break. I am, in fact, right on time."

There was a triumphant snort from behind her; Draco realised that Potter had walked her to his office. Oh, brilliant.

"Thanks for lunch, Harry. You really didn't have to pay--" She was touching his arm affectionately. Draco frowned, confused. Wasn't she with Weasley?

"Nah, it's all right," he said. "You have enough on your plate today." He looked pointedly at Draco, completely bypassing Zabini. Draco glared back.

"All right, Potter?" he snapped. "I'll bet you're just sitting in your office, waiting for orders from my Department--"

"Well, you'd have all the leads on the Death Eaters, wouldn't you?" he replied just as coldly. Draco clenched his fists tightly, his teeth grinding together. Another Death Eater shot; Potter just couldn't let one go, could he? Even after Draco had practically saved his arse by stopping Crabbe and Boyle from killing him - and by letting him steal his wand -

"Yeah," he muttered grimly. "Yeah, I would, Potter. And don't forget that."

Potter and Granger said their good-byes; then he left, and Granger walked into the office, her mouth in a tight little frown and her brows furrowed. "You just can't have a civil conversation with him, can you?" she asked bitterly. "Even though he saved your life...whatever. What's next on the agenda?"

"Aren't you with Weasley?" Draco said, completely ignoring her question. "You seemed quite touchy-feeling with Potter there. Or...is it..." Were his worst fears - or, rather, his horrifying theories - coming true?

"Merlin, no!" She looked offended. "I mean, Harry and I are not - nor will we ever be - a couple. We're just really good friends, Malfoy. And not," she added when Draco cocked an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak, "friends with benefits. He's like my brother. As for Ron and I...well, that's none of your business."

"Come now, Granger," Draco taunted. "If you're having your cake and eating it too, Weasley has every right to know--"

"Since when do you care?"

Zabini interrupted, looking exasperated, "It's best just to answer him. He's like a child, you know: he won't let it go until you do, and he might go and tell Weasley his theory."

Granger set her jaw and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine," she said icily, "but this is the last time I'll say it, and from this moment on we are just going to focus on work. Deal?"

"Fair enough."

"Fine." She hesitated, now appearing decidedly awkward as she glanced down at her shoes. "Ron and I...were a couple for a while. But when Ron started working with George at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and I began to get promotions in my old Department, it was getting too hard to maintain a healthy relationship. We decided that we'd take a break from 'us' until our careers and other aspects of our lives calm down. It was a mutual decision, and we do plan on reforming once we've reached a point in our lives that we're comfortable with." She took a deep breath, uncrossed her arms and placed her hands on her hips. "Well? Are you satisfied?"

"Quite," Draco replied lightly. In all honesty, he'd lost track after "Wheezes", but by the red blotches on Granger's cheeks and the way her eyes were narrowed to mere slits, he figured that it was better not to ask her to repeat the explanation. "So, where'd we leave off?"

"Well, Miss Granger dressed up her cubicle, then she sat in on a meeting and learned how they go. We have to show her the lab--"

"Which I think you can do on your own," Draco interrupted, "as you're teaching her the ropes--"

"Oh, tosh." Granger waved her hand about in the air, brushing aside his suggestion with an air of impatience. "Stop trying to get out of this, Malfoy. Besides, I'm sure that you can use some brushing up in the laboratory. What's after that?"

"After that, we show you how to work the magic devices to collect evidence. We're supposed to show you around the File Room, but as Marvin went home already and he has the keys, we can't get in. It's a room the size of two dozen offices full of filing cabinets. They contain the papers and the key evidence from previously solved cases and cold cases. I assume you know what a cold case is?" Zabini asked.

"It's a major felony crime that was never solved."

"Yes," he nodded. "As a matter of fact, for your training, we will be examining a cold case. We don't know which one yet, but given your background and Marvin's ambition, it'll probably be one that was extremely high-profile. Of course, it will be Olga that chooses the case for us, but Marvin will obviously have some input."

"Well, that's good to know," Granger said. "So, shall we go to the lab, then?"

Draco led the way while Zabini hung back with Granger. He was telling her what sort of things to look for in the lab, and how often she should expect to work there. Draco rolled his eyes; Zabini was going to act like the good guy to get the promotion, wasn't he? Draco slowed his step and walked on Granger's other side. She eyed him warily.

"What's up, Malfoy?" she asked.

"Just wanted to get in on the conversation." Olga Mansfield was walking towards them, looking over a few files. "So, Hermione" - Draco raised his voice - "are you looking forward to your own personal tour, compliments of myself - and Blaise here - of the laboratory?"

Granger blinked slowly, staring at him blankly. Olga passed by them, smiling warmly on her way. As soon as she was a safe distance away, Draco lengthened his step and pulled ahead of Granger and Zabini.

"Are you finished using me for today?" Granger asked him bitterly. "Look, I know that you two are both applying for the Assistant Head position, and I know that I'm 'your last test'. That's fine; I won't purposefully sabotage your careers." He suddenly felt her hand on his arm and she whirled him around. "However, I won't allow either of you to use me like you just did, Malfoy. I won't tolerate any false affection for me. And I won't let you call me 'Pet' anymore, Zabini, so you can stop."

Draco stared at Zabini blankly; the dark wizard pursed his lips, determinedly avoiding his gaze. "Pet?" Draco mouthed at him, highly amused.

"And if your Slytherin ambition proves to be too great for you to agree to that, then...maybe we can work something out."

***

Blaise raised an eyebrow in interest. He'd always been a man for a bargain, and at this point in his career, one with Granger could prove to be to his great advantage. He glanced at Malfoy and saw that he, too, looked highly interested. "What do you have in mind, Granger?"

"I'm not guaranteeing anything. I hate dishonesty, especially in a work environment. But...if you two are doing a good job of training me, then my putting in a few good words for you wouldn't be dishonesty - would it?" She suddenly looked guilty and uncertain. How predictable.

"No," Blaise jumped in. "No, it's not dishonesty. And feel free to exaggerate."

"Watch it," she said warningly.

"And what do you gain out of this?" Malfoy asked bitterly.

"Well...don't use me, first of all. I mean, don't be fake around me when others are around to give yourself the upper hand. Also, be honest around me. If there's something I'm doing wrong, tell me. And don't bother shielding your true thoughts about my work. I will be able to tell, you know."

"That's it?" Blaise asked quietly. "You're putting in a good word for us and all you want back is bluntness?"

"I'm not a con," she said defensively. "I just feel that the three of us were unwillingly thrown together and, therefore, we'd better make the best of a bad situation and get all that we can out of it - without lowering ourselves to...to fraudulence. Understand? If I say anything positive about either of you, I won't lie, and I won't hesitate to state the negatives either -"

"Hold on, Granger." Malfoy stopped her, raising his hand. "If you want us to be brutally honest with you and even put in good words for you--"

"I never asked-"

"I know you never asked, but I know that you're more deceptive than you'll admit to being. Come off your high horse, Granger: your real deal is that if you put in a good word for us, we put in a good word for you. Right? Right. If you want us to hold up our end of the bargain, you hold up yours: positive feedback only."

There was a tense moment and Blaise could practically hear Granger's mind whirring. Her damned conscience was wrestling with her own ambition. Granger was not one to do anything half-arsed, nor was she one to be content at the bottom. She wanted to reach the top, and he had no doubt that she would someday. But if she could speed up the time it took to get there - hopefully without faking her way to the top -

"Think of Weasley," he offered.

Their eyes locked and he saw her decision. Her lips tightened into a thin line and her eyes narrowed so much that he wondered how she could see out of them. Then she inhaled deeply and held her breath for a moment before nodding.

"All right," she said. "But if someone asks me for negatives--"

"Then you name a couple," Malfoy interrupted. "You tell the truth, but not the whole truth. There's a difference."

"Deal?" Blaise said. He held out his hand. Granger hesitated before grasping it.

"Deal." She then shook briefly with Malfoy. "All right, I'm going to the lab. It's this way, right?" And she continued in the direction they were headed.

Blaise locked eyes with Malfoy and saw the same thoughts were occurring inside his head: Granger had said they couldn't be fake around her. She hadn't said that sincerity, or excessive niceness, were off the table. If they could honestly get on Granger's good side, and make her come around and see them - no, he realised. Not see "them" - see him. If Granger could see him in a bright, positive light, then she would speak rather highly of him to their superiors. Identical, competitive grins spread across the faces of the wizards.

As they turned to follow Granger to the lab, they nodded at each other in silent agreement. This deal was going to make one of them, and possibly break the other. The promotion seemed closer than ever before. Blaise chuckled softly to himself. He could practically taste it now.

"Do you think Granger realises what she's just done to herself?" Malfoy asked him coolly. Blaise snorted.

"Yeah, yeah. Good luck with the promotion, Malfoy." Smirk plastered all over his face, he walked forward to join Granger. "Granger," he said in a low voice, glancing back to make sure that Malfoy was at a safe distance, "do you have any idea what kind of power over you that you just placed in Malfoy's hands? He'll use any chance he can to manipulate you; he can make you believe that he's being sincere--"

"But of course you won't," she said, avoiding his gaze. Her fists were clenched and her jaw was tight; she obviously regretted her recent decision. "Let's forget the fact that you were Malfoy's chum all those years ago. Let's forget the fact that you just happened to reach your current high position in this Department at such a young age, shockingly enough just like Malfoy. Let's forget that you were once a Slytherin--"

"Hush," he warned as her voice rose. "I'm going to set the record straight here: I never was and never will be Malfoy's 'chum'. When I was sixteen, my newest stepfather requested that I become familiar with Draco. He was using me to get information on their financial standings." He snorted at the memory. "It was such a shame that he died before I could report back to him."

"I'm sorry about that--"

"Don't be. I'm not." He tucked his hands into the pockets of his robes casually as they walked on. "I worked very hard to get my position, and I don't think that my past in this career is any of your business. And lastly, you're the last person I'd expect to spout prejudiced remarks about ex-Slytherins."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just...I'm just...Is that the lab?"

***

The lab tour turned out to be quite long and drawn out, but Hermione held on to every word that Zabini and Malfoy said to her. Sally-Anne had been right: the similarities between Muggle labs and wizard labs were shocking. The only difference that Hermione was able to see outright was the speed of which evidence was analysed. Magical processes made everything work faster.

Despite the fact that her focus was starting to drift near the end of the three-hour tour, a part of her wished that it had last longer as she realised that her outing with Sally-Anne was now three hours closer. For the next hour, she learned how to use the magical devices, and for the last two hours of work, she was confined to her cubicle to sign a bunch of papers and read a stack of booklets and manuals, as well as write safety and review quizzes that Zabini and Malfoy were to mark and give back to her before she left that day. While they marked, she took a quill and piece of parchment and began to draw out the lab as she remembered it. In all honesty, it had been a bit of a maze, and she hated the idea of getting lost in it.

"Perfect score," Zabini finally said, handing over her safety knowledge exam. "Let's hope you don't forget any of it in an emergency situation."

"Emergency situation?" Hermione echoed. She looked over her answers with satisfaction.

"Yes. For instance, if there is an explosion in the laboratory, you have to remember what sort of antidotes counteract certain poisons, and what spells can heal certain wounds. For instance, you can use dittany to heal ordinary wounds. But what happens if you're cut with a shard of glass doused with the venom of a sea snake? You would never use dittany to heal that. In an emergency scenario, you have to remember to keep your cool and not always go with the most obvious choice--"

"I think I know something about keeping my cool in an emergency, Blaise," Hermione said coolly.

"I never said you didn't." He didn't seem at all phased by her tone. "I was merely giving you an example of an emergency situation as you seemed curious as to what I meant."

Malfoy stepped around to her cubicle at that moment, and Hermione was actually glad to see him. Being around the two wizards all day had put her into a defensive mood, and Zabini was now starting to twist her words to humiliate her. Malfoy's appearance, however unpleasant she knew it would be, had saved her from further embarrassment - for now.

"Not up to your normal wits, Granger," he said, handing her the quiz on lab equipment. "Titration is one of the simplest methods used in the lab; I can't understand how you could possibly mix it up with--"

"Before you claim yourself the smartest wizard in the world, Malfoy," Blaise interjected, looking as unimpressed with his attitude as Hermione felt, "maybe someone should remind you that you also forgot what titration was, and that you also forgot that DNA can be found in teeth."

Hermione fought down a laugh. Malfoy looked scandalised.

"Just remember that for next time," he hissed at her. "I'm off for the day." He nodded curtly before he left. Hermione looked at Blaise in mild wonderment; he'd just stood up to Malfoy - again, she had to notice - but this time he seemed to have done it for her sake more than his own.

"Blaise--"

"Don't let him get to you," he said quickly. "See you tomorrow, Hermione. We'll go over the case, and you might even get to go out in the field with Malfoy."

"Oh, must we wait until tomorrow?" she sighed. "The chance to work in the field with Malfoy just sounds so pleasant."

Zabini said nothing; rather, a small smile appeared briefly on his face, and then he left just as Malfoy had. Hermione rubbed her temples. Her first day was uneventful, as she'd expected, but she'd never thought she'd be so stressed out over it. As she gathered up the booklets and papers to take them home with her, she decided not to blame it entirely on her trainers - though, in retrospect, it probably was their fault.

"Hello, Hermione!"

Fantastic. "Hello, Sally-Anne." She smiled brightly at the blonde witch as she turned to face her. Sally-Anne stood in front of her cubicle, a cloak slung over her arm and an empty coffee cup in her right hand.

"Ready to go?"

"You bet." Hermione stood up and pulled a beaded handbag out of the pocket of her cloak. Even though the war ended years ago, she still held the bag for a moment and stared at it affectionately; it was the same bag she'd used when traveling with Harry and Ron during her seventh year. They couldn't believe she still had it, but oddly enough, she hadn't been able to part with it when the war was over. Clearing her throat, Hermione opened it up and placed the papers inside.

"Your cubicle is quite pretty," said Sally-Anne. "You did a fantastic job of decorating it."

Hermione put away her handbag and pulled on her cloak. "Thank you," she said. "Is it raining yet?"

"I think so." Pushing her fringe out of her eyes, Sally-Anne pulled her own cloak on. "It's a good thing that I know a place just around the corner. Do you like different flavours of tea?"

"Yes," Hermione lied. In truth, she wasn't a fan of coffee or tea; she had a sweet tooth for hot chocolate, but she never admitted it to anyone. Hot chocolate was juvenile, she thought, yet for some odd reason, she couldn't let it go. "What's it called?"

"Oh, it's one of those big chain corporations. The name doesn't really matter. Come on, before it really starts to pour."

Biting back the scathing reply that sprung to her lips, Hermione followed her obediently from the Ministry of Magic and into the teahouse back in Muggle London. As she'd predicted, the rain was already pouring down, and they were soaked through by the time they reached the teahouse. And then Hermione was forced to sit and endure over an hour of Sally-Anne Perks talking about the most idiotic things Hermione had ever heard of, all the while trying to ignore the constant fringe-adjusting. By the time eight o'clock rolled around, Hermione decided that she couldn't take anymore.

"I have to go," she said quickly as the blonde witch finished up telling Hermione her plan to catch the eye of the young French wizard in the Muggle Relations department. "I need to get home and look over these files. But this was lovely," she insisted. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sally-Anne!" She set down some coins on the table (she always carried a couple pounds of Muggle money with her in case it was needed) and left hurriedly, running through the heavy rain and ducking into the nearest dark alley she could find. She Disapparated the moment she found one and landed in Hogsmeade, just outside of the Three Broomsticks.

Her flat was located in the outskirts of Hogsmeade. The building was newly-built, having gone up and open to the public just two years ago, and Hermione had moved in as soon as she possibly could. The flats were spacious, comfortable, and affordable. The best part was that her neighbours were either elderly couples who simply wanted a quieter place to live, or students just out of Hogwarts who worked in the village to earn money and moved out as soon as they could afford a place in a bigger city. Despite the fact that Harry had moved back to Godric's Hollow and Ron remained in Ottery St. Catchpole, Hermione stayed in Hogsmeade; it was a comfortable, familiar place, and she liked being close to Hogwarts.

"Good evening, Hermione," said old Mr Li as Hermione entered the building. He was a widower who lived across the hall from her; he took in abandoned or injured animals and nursed them back to health before allowing other wizarding families to adopt them.

"Evening, Mr Li," Hermione replied. "What brings you to the lobby at this time?"

"My granddaughter is visiting me," he said, drumming his fingers on the head of his cane. "I'd say she's about your age, Hermione. She went to Hogwarts at the same time that you did. Perhaps you know her? She was in Ravenclaw."

"What's her name?"

"Su," he said, yawning heavily. "Su Li. I do hope she gets here soon."

"I recognise the name," she said, "but I didn't know her. I'm sorry. I'd stay to greet her with you, but I've got a lot of reading to do. I got a new job, and today was my first day."

"Good for you, Hermione," said Mr Li. "You have ambitions. You're working on making your life the best you can. It's a shame Su couldn't take a leaf out of your book. She was so smart...but all she wants to do is become the next Celestina Warbeck."

Hermione smiled warmly at him. "Tell her that I wish her the best," she said gently, and then she headed up the stairs to her flat, wanting nothing more than to drink a full pot of hot chocolate before going to sleep.