Never Been Kissed Like That

NEVER BEEN KISSED LIKE THAT

Chapter Five:

"These Things Happen"

Hermione walked as fast as she could through the deserted Diagon Alley. It was six in the morning, and the usual movement of commerce in the streets would not begin until dawn. Half an hour before, she had received an urgent owl from Stephen, the lawyer at WMCA, telling her to come to the office immediately.

Had they heard of her failure with Fudge the previous night? Bad news did spread really quickly, but that had been a fast run. And it was not like Fudge had refused at all, he had just requested some more time. Uncertain thoughts filled her head while she moved with hurried steps. She was almost there.

Her stomach turned over when she saw most of the WMCA's staff gathered at the office door. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Hi," she said nervously. "I came as soon as I could."

"Oh, Hermione, this is horrible." Loretta was sniffing profusely into a white tissue.

"Oh, and it's all my fault, I should have been more energetic with..." Hermione started to apologize when a sandy-haired wizard opened the door from inside the building and motioned the group to come in. His hair was all messy, as if he had just woken up with a start from bed, which was probably the truth. Stephen Woodland had been a Hogwarts student, too. He'd graduated three years before the Terrific Trio and had been Head Boy. Since then, he had dedicated his career to defending cases of misuses of magic by magical creatures. He had been on board with the WMCA since its very foundation, and he was one of its most efficient members.

Hermione couldn't contain a loud gasp when she entered the office. Her office. The desks and chairs were turned upside down, and papers and folders were scattered over the floor. The old stove had been blown up, ashes still floating in the dark room. The upper floor was also a mess.

"Let's see if there's anything missing," Stephen said through gritted teeth.

"Who could have done this?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"Anti-common rights fanatics, ex-Death Eaters, bored teens, ex-lovers..." Stephen trailed off. "There are many people out there waiting for us to fail."

"We've already failed," she said. "No. I have failed. I couldn't talk Fudge into a meeting with us." Tears were silently flowing down her cheeks. What was supposed to be the best moment of her life had turned into a nightmare.

Stephen looked at her sympathetically and squeezed her hand. "Don't worry, we'll sort this out."

"Maybe you can ask Harry to come and look for evidence of who might have done this. After all, this is a criminal act." Loretta was by her former desk, a fierce look in her eyes as she stared at the pile of shattered wood. The other staff members nodded in ageement.

"I'll owl him, then." With a heavy heart, she took some parchment that was not too burned from the floor and went in search of Foxy.

*****

It was almost midday when Harry finished his exhaustive search in the home of the WMCA. By the look in his eyes, almost everyone knew what his report would be. And it was not good news.

"I'm sorry. There's no evidence that they forced the door or used any unlocking spell on it. There is no possible way of tracking down the magic they performed to cause all this mayhem. It was a clean and professional job."

"But why?" Loretta asked. "They didn't take anything from here, so why all the destroying?" she sighed exasperatedly.

"I don't know, Mrs. Crown, these things happen." Harry felt sorry he was of no use. "Do you have any enemies?"

Stephen snorted loudly. "Enemies against a committee formed by werewolves, domestic elves, centaurs and goblins aiming for a better world? In what world do you live Potter?" he replied sarcastically.

"For Merlin's sake! This is not Harry's fault, Stephen. He's just trying to help," Hermione spat angrily. "He's done what he could, so now let's forget about this whole dammed thing and get moving. We've got plenty of work to do, and we are still here whining like babies." Almost instantly, the crowd dissolved and started gathering folders and putting repairing spells everywhere. They knew better than to discuss things with 'the boss' in a bad mood.

Harry gently took Hermione by the arm and led her outside. The activity at Diagon Alley was now at its full strenght, packed with witches and wizards. He started walking through the crowd, Hermione by his side.

"Where are you taking me?"

"It's almost noon, you need to eat something. It'll do you good." Harry said.

Hermione smiled thankfuly. She could always count on her friends to come and help her in her darker hours. "Thanks Harry, you're a good friend."

"I just thought that, with your mouth full, you would stop barking like an enraged dog." This comment earned him a punch in the arm in not a very playful way.

They entered the Leaky Cauldron and sat at their usual table, ordering some sandwiches and two butterbeers. Harry kept her mind distracted from the previous events of the day by talking about his work and the latest pranks by the Weasleys Wizard Weezes, the shop George and Fred had opened with his help seven years ago.

"By the way, I never asked how you ended the Ball yesterday. You know, you seemed well accompained by that brunette. Mandy, is it?" Hermione directed her friend a knowing glance.

"Just the normal stuff. I woke her up this morning and told her to get dressed and leave," he smirked.

"Harry! How could you!" Hermione could not believe her ears.

Sensing the upcoming punch, Harry covered his head defensively. "I was joking, Herms. Joking! You know I wouldn't do such a thing."

Hermione dropped her fist at once. "You'd better not," she threatened.

"She was talking endlessly, boring my pants off with Ministry gossiping. Only when Cho came did she leave me alone. I think Mandy found better company in Ludo Bagman. I saw the two of them leaving together."

"Did you say Cho was there?" Hermione looked at him, sensing the conflicted feelings in his face.

"Yes." He paused, as if trying to know how to say the following. "She was there with her fiancé, an American healer she met last summer. They're getting married the 31^st." Harry stared at his butterbeer, avoiding Hermione's eyes.

"I'm sorry, Harry." She could not think of anything better to say. Harry and Cho was an affair she could never understand. One day they were together, the next they hated each other. But it had been almost eight months since their last row, in which Cho had claimed she didn't want to hear from him anymore. They were both really different, and Hermione didn't understand why they kept trying.

"I'm okay, Hermione. It was a matter of time," he said, though he looked far from being ok. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, letting out a heavy sigh. "It's just... I don't know. I've been living my whole life as if there was no future, you know what I mean? I never made any plans because I never really knew if there was a future for me." Hermione patted his hand reassuringly.

Harry continued. "And now I'm here. I'm an Auror, and that is as far as I was planning. I have never allowed myself to linger on how I wanted my life to be. I never compromised too much with my relationships, so I can't blame Cho for continuing with her life. It would never have worked between us

"I feel terribly lonely. I have never had a normal life, but now I want a witch to love me and who I could love back, a house, a dog, to degnome the garden, children on broomsticks... Does any of this make sense?"

"Of course it does. You are still very young, Harry. Someday you'll find all you wish for." She felt so sorry for the man in front of her. He didn't deserve to feel that way after all he had sacrificed to bring peace to the wizarding world.

"Thanks, Herms. I feel stupid talking about these things to Ron, he is always complaining about his life, going on about how lucky I am to be single. But deep down, I know he's happy with Luna and the twins. He's a lucky man."

"Of course he is. And you are a lucky man, too. You just need to find the right girl." Harry felt relieved at having told Hermione. After all, she was a clever witch, and she was always right.

"Thanks. For everything," Harry smiled. "Uhm, now you mention it, what about you? Too busy for love?" he teased.

"Right you are. Now I can only focus on work." She had really been so absorbed with her job in the last few months that she couldn't remember the last time she'd been on a date.

"Really? You seemed to make a good impression on Malfoy last night." Harry eyed her curiously.

She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. "I don't know what you're talking about," she lied. She didn't think it was so evident. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, or lie to herself, she felt undoubtedly attracted to Draco Malfoy.

The previous night, they had walked in the snowy streets for hours, till her feet became blue. It didn't matter that her house was only a twenty minute walk from the Ministry. They had talked about what they had done in the last five years; they talked about their friends at Hogwarts and what had become of them, about the professors, about Quidditch, about coffee, and when they had run out of conversation, they talked about the the weather. He had left her at her building and, after waving goodbye, apparated away. It had been an strange night, talking with Malfoy. Apart from some snide remarks, they had managed not to utter a single insult to one another. And he definitely had eased the bad taste from her unsuccessful meeting with Fudge.

"C'mon, Hermione, he was eyeing every inch of your dress. By the way, I forgot to tell you, you looked really wonderful."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Thanks, it's a pity you needed six hours to transmit the information to your solitary neuron, and another six to verbalize it. Next time you'll notice I'm a woman too!"

"Don't confuse me with Ron, Miss I'm-the-sensitive-one," he pointed at Hermione with a menacing finger. "And back to my point, be careful with Malfoy. I don't know what he's up to, but it won't be anything good. I don't see why he would have danced with you otherwise." This did not have the warning effect on Hermione that he had wanted. She was furious because, apparently, Harry could only conceive Malfoy approaching her with some hidden intention.

"You'll never grow up! We're no longer at Hogwarts, Harry. Stop playing the concerned brother, I know how to take care of myself. Besides, there's nothing to worry about, so stop with your wonderings."

"So no replay of library kissing soon?" he asked with feigned disappointment, batting his eyelashes innocently.

"Oh, you're such an immature prat. Let's go, I've still got plenty of work to do, and I suppose you must return to your dangerous job of protecting the world from evil flushing toilets," she said with sarcasm.

Harry accompained Hermione to the hidden entrance of Diagon Alley, and then left for the Ministry. They had arranged their monthly meeting for mid-January, when Ron would have some days free from his Quidditch practice with the Tornados.

*****

Hermione took a small mirror from her purse and cleaned a few ash stains from her face. It had been a hard week, with all the repairing and cleaning in the office. They had managed to gather all the important documents and put them into the archive again. Winky had a nervous breakdown when one of the sheets with firms she had so thoroughly gathered went missing. Later, they found it half burned under Jamie's quick-type machine (a kind of magical typewriter), and the poor elf finally decided to go home for some rest with Dobby.

"I'll go home and try to convince Howard into giving me a back massage. I feel so sore," Loretta complained.

"You know your husband is a heaven, he'll do anything you ask him to." Hermione was the last one to leave the office. She closed the door behind her and waved goodby to her friend. It had been an awfully long day, but she didn't feel like going home yet. She creased her brow and started walking, and before she realised it, she was in front of the Watercolors Café. She was risking her chances, and she knew it, but she consoled herself by thinking she was there just for a warm drink.

The café was not that big, so a quick scan served her to find what she was looking for, sitting at a far corner by one window. He had his back turned to her, but he didn't seem surprised when she sat in front of him.

"I think it is your treat, Malfoy." Without even arguing with her, he called for the waiter.

"Another capuccino, and a double espresso," he ordered.

"I'd love to sleep tonight, so I'd rather have a hot chocolate, please." The waiter took their orders and left for the bar. Before Malfoy could put his thoughts into words, she added, "to hell with my sugar control, I've had a horrible day."

"I heard something at the Ministry, did Potter find any evidence about the intruders?" Hermione explained everything, from how they had found the office to what Harry had said about the perpetrators.

"Nothing. And they didn't take anything with them. We've been able to gather all the documents pertaining to each of the members of the WMCA," she paused, thinking on something she hadn't paid attention to before. "Now that I think of it, none of the goblins ever appeared to worry about the incident, or to help with the cleaning. But they don't keep any stuff at the office either," she shrugged.

"You can't trust in goblins, you know how they work. If there's no gold involved, they don't care," he said casually. Then, he leaned in and looked at her intently "I wonder how you made them support your committee. After all, we both know your organization is far from lucrative."

"There are other worthy things apart from money, you know," Hermione's temper was starting to rise.

"You mean power. Certainly, goblins are power-hungry. I just wonder at the fact that they stick to your equal rights movement to reach it. I bet there are...faster ways for it."

"And you surely know many of those ways, considering your background." She regreted the words the moment they left her mouth. He glared at her with his piercing grey eyes. "I... I didn't mean it that way," she muttered.

He was frighteningly calm when he spoke next. "It was not my choice to be born in the midst of a pureblood family, as it is not my fault if I always had money. I know most people think my father was an evil bastard, and I was certainly not blind to his wrongdoings, but he was my father. I chose my own destiny by going against the beliefs I was raised with, so I expected more respect from someone that prides herself on fighting against prejudices."

Hermione felt terribly ashamed of herself and hung her head down. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. You're right."

"Those were the two things I thought I'd never hear from you," he smirked, and Hermione relaxed a bit. "But we're living in new times. Things have changed, haven't they?"

"Yeah, things are different now." A slight smile spread across her lips.

"Uh, that reminds me of something I wanted to talk to you about." He changed the topic abruptly, leaving aside the tension of their disagreement. She eyed him curiously.

"There are some ladies." She cocked an eyebrow. "High society ladies, I mean. They are planning a fund-raising event, and they need a cause. I happen to know many of them, and -I know it sounds frivolous-, but after the incident at the WMCA, I guess some help wouldn't hurt."

"And you think that high society ladies would put forth all their effort to organize an event for the cause of equal rights for magical creatures?" She imagined the old bats organising a tea party on behalf of her committee and at the same time enslaving poor house elves to make it perfect.

"You know how the world works, Granger. They might be the least likely group to support your ideas, but they would do anything that is fashionable at the moment."

"So fighting for the less abled is in fashion this season?" she snapped.

"Don't make it sound as if it was my fault. Besides, you can't deny that this also happens in the Muggle world. There are all those concerts against drugs in which half of the singers have experimented with all the stuff available. And don't forget about the fund-raising dinners, in which people eat beluga caviar on behalf of the poor. Hypocrisy is not an only-magical thing. But that doesn't mean they're not helping just the same, right?" He said all this without stopping for breath. He had been researching his arguments thorougthly, and by the look in Hermione's eyes, she was having a hard time finding arguments with which to refute his discourse. She had that look where you could almost hear the clicking inside her head as her brain struggled to find a comeback.

"All right," she finally said. A satisfied smirk appeared on Malfoy's face. Her intelligence was no match for his cunning personality.

*****

Draco stomped into Fudge's office angrily.

"What do you think you're doing, interfering with my work?" He was a sight when furious, but the Minister was an old dog, not so easy to frighten.

"Your stealthy methods haven't provided any information so far," Fudge said calmly.

"And yours have?" Malfoy shouted. Fudge seemed to ignore his question. "I didn't take the time to steal Miss Granger's purse and get the password to the WMCA just for your minions to break in there and turn everything upside down. Now they might get suspicious and take stronger security measures." Fudge remained stony-faced.

"All right, Mr. Malfoy, as our search hasn't proved satisfactory, you'll have your time, and we won't intervene again. But you'll inform me immediately of any further discovery."

"I'm getting closer, and she's starting to confide in me. Moreover, I have a plan to make her think I'm helping with her absurd cause."

"You'd better make sure it works. Now, Mr. Malfoy, I've got plenty of work to do." He dismissed the young man with a wave of his hand. When he was left alone, Fudge walked to the small table placed by the fire and poured himself a glass of firewhiskey from a beautifully patterned crystal bottle. He took half of the drink in one gulp.

"Poor Miss Granger, she wouldn't know what hit her until it's all over," he chuckled darkly, his eyes set on the roaring fire.