Love is a Battlefield

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

The lone figure strode quickly up the alley. Although it was the middle of spring, the wind was still cold, and the chill seemed ever present. He grabbed the corners of the sweeping black cloak and pulled it tighter around himself in a vain attempt to stop the cold seeping in.

As he neared his destination, he spotted the person he was due to meet. Elias Solomon was a sprightly little wizard in his seventies. The younger wizard, who by now had reached the table and greeted Elias with a handshake, relied on Elias’ discretion in his position as administrator for meetings such as these. It was important that the mysterious owner of PGW Industries remain just that - a mystery. It served no purpose for him to reveal his identity; in fact, he felt it would jeopardise the company if he did.

For the head researcher and brains behind the company was one Dr. Hermione Granger, widely respected as one of the most intelligent witches of her time. Headhunted by Elias five years previously to head up a new project at the request of the owner, Hermione had found she’d enjoyed her time there, and had remained, working her way up to her current position as Head Professor of Research - Causes and Cures Division.

However, no matter how much she loved her job, Hermione Granger would not be happy if she knew the identity of the wizard who presently sat before Elias.

"Sorry I’m late," the man referred to by Elias as Jago said.

Elias waved a hand dismissively. "I only just got here myself. Cup of tea?"

Jago shook his head. "I can’t stay long. Was lucky to be able to sneak away at all. You wanted to talk?"

"Yes." Elias pulled a folder out of the briefcase that sat at his feet and slid it across the table.

"What’s this?" Jago picked the folder up and opened it, pulling out a sizeable pile of papers.

"Hermione wants you to read these," Elias watched Jago for his reaction at the mention of Hermione's name, and was rewarded with the briefest of uneasy glances.

Jago flicked through the pile silently, not really taking any of it in. "What’s this all about, Elias?"

Elias smiled. "She wants to head up a research team in attempting to find a cure for Jobin’s disease."

Jago’s head snapped up. "Jobin’s disease?" he repeated. He skimmed through the report silently, contemplating the enormity of the request. Jobin’s disease was an epidemic that had been sweeping through the wizarding world for the last 5 years, leaving thousands dead and many more incapacitated. Named after the doctor who first pinpointed its qualities - and also among the first to perish from it - its cause had eluded even the most brilliant of scientists. "That’s ambitious."

Elias nodded. "I must admit I was as surprised as you when she first came to me with the report. Not even I would have thought Hermione would be game enough to tackle such a high scale project as this." He cocked his head to the side slightly to study Jago's profile. "She seems determined, Jago. She desperately wants you to give her the money to start the team."

Jago let out a deep breath. "How much does she want?"

Elias hesitated before answering. Even though he’d been in his job since the company’s inception 10 years previously, he was still reluctant to ask his employer for extra money.

"Fifty thousand galleons."

Jago let out a low whistle. "Is that all?" he smiled sardonically.

Elias let out a laugh. "I’ve looked through her report. She’s being optimistic. She really needs more than that if she’s to proceed with this project properly. But I think she’s aware she’s pushing her luck, considering you’re already more than generous with your monthly transfer."

Jago put the report back into the folder, and slid it back across the table. "What do you think? What are her chances of actually pulling this off?"

Elias said nothing for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I think - honestly - Hermione probably has little chance of finding a cure. Nobody knows enough about Jobin’s to confidently be able to start work on a cure." Jago nodded. "But I also think she’s desperate to try - she has the brains and the sheer determination to follow this thing through to the best of her ability."

Elias picked up his now cold cup of tea and sipped it, looking at Jago over the rim of the cup. "It really is your call, Jago. It’s your money."

"Yes, it is," Jago murmured in reply. He pulled the hood of his cloak down a bit further, totally obscuring his face to anyone who might be glancing in his direction.

Elias knew of Jago's true identity – this was necessary to keep the company running smoothly - but always respected his decision for total anonymity. "I suppose she wants the answer today?"

Elias grinned broadly. "Of course. She’s eager to commence work on the project."

Jago couldn’t help but smile back. "Okay. Organise the transfer of one hundred thousand galleons from my vault to the company. But tell Hermione that she will *not* get another galleon from me until I see a cure."

Elias reached across the table to shake Jago’s hand. "Thank you, Jago. Hermione will be pleased." He took another mouthful of his tea, then looked at Jago thoughtfully, wondering whether now was the time to raise the concern he’d long carried.

"You can’t hide from her forever, you know," he said quietly.

Jago smiled ruefully. "I know."

"She’ll figure it out eventually."

"I’m sure she will."

"She’s not going to be very happy when she finds out." Elias noted the troubled look that appeared on Jago’s face.

"I guess I’ll have to cross that bridge when I come to it." Both men sat silently, thoughts of witnessing an angry Hermione removing any cheerful thought from their minds.

Jago sighed. "I really need to be getting back." He stood up and shook Elias’ hand once more. "Owl me if you have any problems."

"I will. Thank you for coming to meet me on such short notice." Elias watched with concern as Jago gave him one last smile before turning and disappearing back the way he had come.

* * * * *

The building that contained the offices and laboratories of PGW Industries was nondescript, to say the least. It was the kind of building that you’d walk straight past unless you knew what was inside. A dull brown brick, its exterior belied the whirlwind of activity that was taking place inside its walls.

Dr. Hermione Granger strode down the corridor, leaving several underlings scrambling for signatures in her wake. She’d just received word that Elias was back from his meeting with the mysterious Jago.

Arriving at his office at the end of the main corridor, Hermione entered without bothering to knock. "What did he say?"

Elias looked up from his chair. "Hello to you too," he said, getting up and moving around to the front of the desk, perching himself on the edge.

Hermione put on a bright, but false, smile. "Hello, Elias. How are you?" The smile vanished. "What did he say?" Elias chuckled and gestured for Hermione to take a seat. As she was sitting, she studied his profile, trying to anticipate what he was about to tell her.

Elias reminded Hermione a lot of Dumbledore, and not just because they both had silver hair. It was in his manner. The way his eyes twinkled constantly, so that half the time Hermione wasn’t able to tell whether he was serious or not. But today, she was in no mood to put up with his teasing - something Elias could see from the look on her face.

"He agreed, Hermione." Elias didn’t bother to beat about the bush. Hermione gripped the armrests of her chair in a mixture of shock and excitement.

"Are you serious? He agreed? Just like that?" Her words tumbled out of her mouth, and Elias couldn’t help but grin. She had said to him once a long time ago that occasionally her brain moved so fast that her mouth couldn't keep up, and she had to struggle to get the words out. Elias noticed this was usually when she was either very shocked or very excited - or a mixture of both. And now, he could practically see the clogs in Hermione’s head beginning to turn at full speed.

"The answer to all three questions is yes."

"Wow," Hermione breathed. "I…I didn’t think…"

"He’d agree so quickly?" Elias finished for her. Hermione nodded, still unable to quite believe what she was hearing. Of course, she'd wanted Jago’s approval, but hadn’t honestly thought she’d get it. Fifty thousand galleons was a hell of a lot of money, after all.

"Yes, well, I emphasised the importance of commencing the project as soon as possible. Jago has authorised a transfer of the money to the company vault."

At the mention of the money, Hermione snapped back to reality. "He agreed to the fifty thousand?"

Elias shook his head slowly. "No."

"Oh," Hermione tried her best to smother the disappointed sigh she could feel rising from the back of her throat. She knew she was lucky Jago had agreed to give her anything at all. She thought quickly, trying to figure out how she was going to manage on less money. She’d left herself short with the fifty thousand estimate as it was.

"How much did he agree to?" Hermione searched Elias’ eyes desperately, and was surprised to see the familiar twinkle there. Elias didn’t answer straight away. "Elias, how much?"

Elias’ face broke out into a broad grin. "A hundred thousand." Hermione’s eyes widened, and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "But he said, not a galleon more till he sees a cure, Dr. Granger."

Hermione’s brain processed the information she’d just received, and she let out a small shriek, leaping out of the chair and throwing her arms around Elias, almost knocking him off the desk.

Elias laughed at Hermione’s enthusiasm. Most of the time, she was Dr. Granger, Head Professor of Research; but every now and then, she allowed Elias to see Hermione - a woman whose thirst for knowledge was rarely quenched, and whose intelligence was occasionally a hindrance more than a help. In short, Elias reflected as he hugged her back, Hermione Granger was one hell of a witch.

* * * * *

Jago sank back into the chair, his face a picture of thought. Elias’ parting words echoed in his head.

You can’t hide from her forever, you know.

He couldn’t, and he knew it. Hermione was a clever woman. How he’d actually been able to hide it from her this far amazed him. He knew he was living on borrowed time.

If he was honest with himself, a small part of him wished she would find out. Then the deception would be over, and he could try to repair the damage it would undoubtedly cause.

He pondered what Hermione’s initial reaction would be once she found out her employer was someone she knew. Someone she trusted. Would that trust be shattered? Would she quit her job?

He couldn’t afford for that to happen. It was because of Hermione that the company was as successful as it was. She had singlehandedly walked in and turned it from a small business struggling to keep afloat to one of the top research enterprises in the world.

Many a foreign corporation sought the assistance of the team Hermione had assembled. Each member of her division had been hand picked by herself and Elias, with Jago seemingly getting final approval. But Jago never had any intention of rejecting any candidate Hermione put forward; she knew better than he did whether they were right for the team, and he trusted her judgement. Not that she was aware of that.

Hermione had been incredibly picky about those she chose to surround herself with. Each of them had the intellect to match hers. Each with the loyalty and dedication to PGW that Hermione herself showed.

On more than one occasion, Hermione had been approached by rival companies, offered ridiculous sums of money to leave PGW Industries to work for them; she had flat out refused every offer. She was more than happy to stay right where she was, and threw herself enthusiastically into her work.

But Jago knew it was all an illusion. And like all illusions, eventually they become transparent. He could only hope that once the illusion shattered, he would be able to pick up the pieces and put them back together again.

* * * * *

Ginny picked up the black album to her right and impatiently flicked through it, not really taking any of it in. This wedding she was trying to plan had turned into a nightmare; the bride and groom had changed their minds four times about the theme, and had told Ginny earlier that day at their lunch meeting that they were postponing it for the second time so that they could have a Christmas wedding in Hawaii with a tropical theme. Ginny had tried to explain that December in Hawaii would be winter, but they were having none of it.

So Ginny found herself sprawled on the lounge room floor of the unit she shared with Draco, trying to find details for a tropical wedding. In the middle of winter. The worst of it was, Draco wasn’t due back from his latest shoot until Friday night. Two more days. 48 long hours. She missed him desperately.

He’d already been gone for four days. And Ginny’s agenda had been too full for her to Apparate to Tahiti to see him. But the thought of what she’d do to him when he returned was enough to make her grin inanely.

"Thinking about me again?" a familiar voice drawled. Ginny’s head snapped up to find the object of her affections standing in the doorway, smiling lazily at her.

"How long have you been standing there?" she asked, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and happiness.

"Long enough. Shut up, woman, and get over here and kiss me. I’ve missed you."

Ginny didn’t need to be told twice, pushing herself up from the floor and sidestepping the various albums lying in the way to throw herself into Draco’s outstretched arms. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

Ginny shut her eyes and slid her arms around his neck, drinking in the reality that he was really there, holding her in his arms. They stood there silently for a few moments, gripping each other tightly, before Ginny opened her eyes and pulled back far enough to be able to look at him. She moved her arms down to place one hand on Draco’s face, and using the fingers of the other to trace his lips softly.

"How was Tahiti?" she whispered, smiling as Draco kissed her fingers.

"Lonely," he answered. "How’s London been?"

"Lonely," she echoed. "But it’s just fine now." The trademark Weasley grin broke out as Draco tilted her chin up and pulled her closer. His kiss was gentle at first, soft and feathery, making Ginny’s stomach feel as if a thousand butterflies were trapped inside.

That was one of the things Ginny loved most about Draco; she could just drown in his kisses. But it wasn’t enough for Draco, and he moved his hand from her chin to the back of her head, increasing the pressure against her lips. Ginny responded eagerly, opening her mouth almost immediately and moaning against his. That was all it took for Draco to lift her up and carry her to the bedroom.

* * * * *

Two hours later, Draco and Ginny sat in the lounge room, eating Chinese from the little white delivery containers the restaurants seemed so fond of using. They were on the floor; Draco sat up against one of the vivid blue lounges, with Ginny between his legs, resting against him with her legs drawn up towards her chest. Draco had wrapped his arms around her thighs and, while he wasn’t eating, was kissing the side of her neck. Ginny, who was adept at using chopsticks, alternated between feeding herself and feeding Draco.

Dressed only in a short sky blue satin slip, Ginny thought she would feel the usually cool night air seeping into the apartment from the balcony; however, between the fire roaring in the fireplace and Draco, Ginny felt nothing but warm. Draco hadn’t bothered to get very dressed either, choosing to put on only a pair of pyjama bottoms.

"So, which wedding are you working on?" he asked between bites of Satay Chicken.

"The Thurgar/Hayes one," Ginny replied. Draco raised an eyebrow as Ginny shoved some rice into his mouth. He chewed quickly, keeping his gaze on the woman he loved more than life. "I thought that one was under control?"

"It was, until they decided to postpone it again and change the theme again," Ginny answered with a groan. She had a mouthful of Mongolian lamb, then turned and looked at Draco thoughtfully. "Do you think we’ll ever get married?"

Draco said nothing for a few moments, finishing his mouthful of food before raising another eyebrow. "Where did that come from?"

Ginny frowned, and hesitated before answering. "I don’t know. I guess this wedding’s just making me think, that’s all. I know they’ve postponed it and changed it a million times, but their enthusiasm to get it right and their obvious love for each other…it’s just nice, that’s all."

Draco studied her intently for a few moments, then leaned in and kissed her gently.

"Do you want to get married, beautiful?" he asked softly.

Ginny put the container on the table to her right, then turned back to stare at Draco. Ginny loved his eyes; the cool grey was such an unusual colour. She’d never met anyone else who had the same colour eyes as Draco.

"I think it would be nice one day if we did," she said, placing her hand up on his cheek.

"Then name the day, and I’ll be there." He leaned in and kissed her again, this time more firmly.

"Really?" Ginny murmured against his mouth.

"Really," Draco answered, pulling away just far enough to look at her. "If you want to get married tomorrow, beautiful, I’ll do it." He smiled, and Ginny’s heart melted.

"I love you, Draco Malfoy," she whispered.

"I love you too, Ginny Weasley," he whispered back. He brought his hand up to gently brush a stray hair away from her face. "Although, Ginny Malfoy sounds just as good, don’t you agree?"

"Absolutely," she said. And when his lips met hers again, all concious thought ceased.

* * * * *

Hermione shut the front door behind her, throwing off her robe and hanging it up on the rack behind the door.

"Harry?" she called out.

"Up here." A muffled voice answered. Taking the stairs two at a time, she sprinted up them to find Harry standing in front of his wardrobe, shuffling through the clothes hanging there.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Harry looked up sideways at her. "You don’t have to ask, you know that."

Hermione crossed the threshold and sat herself down on his bed. "What are you looking for?"

"That new blue jumper I bought a few weeks back," He turned back and rifled through his clothes again. "I’m sure it was hanging here last time I saw it…." Just then, a thought occurred to him, and he turned around to face his best friend. "I don’t suppose you happen to know where it is, do you?"

Harry was well aware of Hermione’s fondness for stealing clothes that belonged to him and Ron; he knew she still had a few of Ron’s jumpers hanging in her wardrobe. Jumpers that had mysteriously disappeared as Ron was packing just before his wedding, only to reappear with her wearing them. The guilty look on Hermione’s face confirmed Harry’s suspicions.

"Oh, you mean the navy one with the v neck?" she asked lightly.

Harry tried to look stern, but failed miserably. "You know damn well which one I mean, Granger."

Hermione smiled, and disappeared through the doorway, returning a few minutes later with said jumper in her arms. "Thanks for the loan." She handed it to him, then leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. Hermione took in Harry’s appearance as he slipped the jumper over his head. Dressed in black pants and a blue short sleeved shirt, he was dressed casually, but smartly. Not your usual outfit for hanging around the house.

"Are you going out tonight?" she asked, a small frown creasing her brow.

"I’m having dinner with April, remember?" Harry said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "I told you last night."

"Right." Hermione frowned. She had been hoping to celebrate being given the green light for the Jobin project, and given the fact that her usual Wednesday night get together with Kellie and Ginny had been postponed till next week, she’d rather hoped to celebrate with Harry.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asked. When Hermione didn’t answer him, he reached out and gently placed his hand on her cheek. "Hermione?" Hermione shook her head slightly, as if startled, and Harry dropped his hand.

"What? Sorry…yeah. Everything’s fine." She smiled. "Actually, everything’s great!"

Her smile was contagious, and Harry found himself returning it. "Any reason in particular?"

Hermione nodded. "You remember the big project I’ve been interested in starting up for a while?"

"You mean the one that you wouldn’t tell me anything about?" he replied teasingly.

"That’s the one," she answered with a grin. "Well, I finally got Elias to ask Jago if I could have the extra money to do it, and guess what?"

"What?"

"He said yes! Which means I can go ahead and get started on Monday. And now, I can tell you what it’s about." She hesitated, suddenly unsure of herself. She was about to undertake the project of her life, and the seriousness of the topic was not lost on her. "I’m going to try and find a cure for Jobin’s disease." Hermione looked at Harry anxiously, awaiting his reaction.

Harry stared at her. "You’re joking."

Hermione shook her head. "No. I’m totally serious." She studied his face. "Do you think I’m wasting my time?" Hermione wasn’t sure why, but at that moment, she suddenly felt the need for Harry's reassurance more than anything. She needed to know that he thought she was doing the right thing.

Harry looked at her for a long moment, then leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. "If anyone can do it, Hermione, it’s you."

Hermione’s face brightened and they both smiled. "Thank you, Harry. That means a lot to me. Oh, and to top it off, he actually authorised Elias to transfer a hundred thousands galleons to the company vault!"

Harry’s jaw dropped. "Wow, that’s a lot of money. This Jago guy must be loaded."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I was thinking about him on the way home. I think maybe it’s time we try and find out who he is again."

"We?" Harry asked wryly.

Hermione batted her eyelashes at him, and he laughed. "Come on, Harry. Who else would I ask but my very best friend in the entire world?"

This statement made Harry laugh again. "I’m sure Ron would be thrilled to hear you say that. Besides, last time we spent weeks looking through every encyclopaedia ever written for someone with the initials PGW and found nothing. Or did you forget that?"

Hermione stuck her tongue out. "No, I didn’t forget that. But maybe we were barking up the wrong tree. Maybe it’s not his initials after all."

"I’ve got two words for you: Happy Hunting. You’re on your own with this one. I don’t think I ever want to look at another book again for as long as I live." Hermione smiled, knowing he was joking. She also knew she’d be able to talk him around.

Harry checked his watch. "I’ve got to go." Hermione nodded, watching as he headed for the door. As he got to the doorway, he stopped and turned back to her.

"Do you want me to cancel this and stay here with you to celebrate?" Hermione looked at him for a second, then shook her head.

"No, it’s okay. Thanks anyway. We’ll celebrate another time."

"How about tomorrow night? I’ll buy you dinner."

"You’re on, Potter. I get to pick the restaurant."

"Deal." He smiled at her, and she smiled back. "I’ll see you in the morning."

"Have a nice time. Tell April I said hi."

"I will. Be good." With that, he disappeared down the stairs. Hermione waited until she heard the familiar *pop*, indication he’d Apparated out, then sighed and shuffled downstairs to make something to eat.

As she made a toasted sandwich, a sudden feeling of annoyance at Harry washed over her, and she shook her head, scowling at the irrational thought. He’d offered to stay, and she knew he would have.

As she sat at the table to eat, she analysed her thoughts further. It wasn’t that she was jealous; she loved Harry - he was her best friend - but she wasn’t interested in dating him herself. She wanted nothing more than his happiness, and she didn’t expect that he would stay single forever.

It was just…April. Everything about that woman made Hermione uneasy. It was not what she said to Hermione...it was the way she said it. Like Hermione was a child that needed it spelt out clearly. Like Hermione was just an annoyance that Harry would be better off without.

Would he be better off without me?

Hermione quickly shook her head and finished her dinner, determined to put all thoughts of April - and Harry - out of her mind and focus on the Jobin project.

* * * * *