31/03/2020 - hellooo! Going through this and slogging out a load of edits as I was bored (thanks quarantine) but reread the start of this and hated it haha! Perhaps I'll write more once I've finished editing, look out!

Hello! I've enjoyed Dramione for a really long time and finally had enough inspiration to start a fic myself! Hope fully you'll enjoy the ride.

Hermione Granger checked her watch for what seemed like the hundredth time and nervously blew back a strand of hair which remained loose from her painfully tight bun.

It was 11.36am, meaning Kingsley Shacklebolt was running exactly six minutes late for their meeting.

Though it was not unusual for Kingsley to call Hermione into his office on a Friday morning, and it was pretty much the norm for him to be running a few minutes late (the Minister of Magic rarely had a relaxing day at the office), something had seemed off about the owl he'd sent her the previous day.

He had bothered with extensive formalities, referring to her as 'Ms Granger' and requesting she attend a meeting in his office – quite different from his usual note asking her to pop by for an update on her progress in the filing rooms.

Hermione couldn't help but allow her lip to curl as she thought of the bloody filing rooms, a dim and musty area tucked away from the exciting hustle and bustle of the ministry's central nervous system where careers went either to be born or to die. She was hoping for the former, having been waiting for a place on the Wizengamot's illustrious apprenticeship scheme for several years now.

After the war Hermione had very little trouble deciding what it was she wanted to do, especially as she had to attend numerous trials for the captured death eaters who had taken part in the battle of Hogwarts. The wizarding justice system had been in a tumultuous state for a while, beginning with Harry's frankly unjustified trial after defending himself from dementors in Little Whinging, to Voldemort's version of justice which had reigned during the dark time the ministry was taken by the death eaters.

With power hungry, blood-biased characters such as Dolores Umbridge long gone from the wizard high court of law, it seemed a new age of fairness and just punishment was on the horizon, and Hermione was desperately eager to be a part of it. Besides, she had always rather enjoyed Law and Order – the Wizengamot was an obvious career path.

Of course, being one of the most important departments of the ministry of magic, similar to the Auror's offices, the Wizengamot was no place for corruption or status.

It did not matter that she was one of the golden trio, Hermione knew she needed to wait and be proven worthy of a position in the distinguished department – just as Harry and Ron were having to train hard to be Aurors like everyone else.

She was hoping that all of her hours slaving away in one of the ministry's dullest departments, helping Millicent Bullstrode (of all people) locate and appropriately re-file any documents which had been misplaced or moved during the war had been enough to prove how dedicated she was to the ministry. Not only was she eager to start her career in the wizarding justice system, but Hermione was tired of returning home smelling of dust and Bullstrode's body odour each and every day.

She was startled out of her thoughts as Percy Weasley opened the door to the Minister's office and stepped out. He dropped her a wink and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Kingsley's ready for you now Hermione, good luck!" He grinned, Hermione smiled back nervously, his words confirming that something bigger than a catch up over a cup of tea was afoot.

She caught the door before it swung closed and entered the office of the Minister for Magic with a stern and professional look on her face, remaining by the door with her hands clasped in front of her until she was invited to speak.

"Ms Granger! Excellent to see you, please relax and take a seat, I believe I have good news." Shacklebolt smiled warmly from behind his desk, extending his hand for her to shake as she approached him and sat down opposite.

Hermione smiled back, still wary and trying not to let herself hope for the best. She could just be transferring out of the filing rooms and into the department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes – a shit storm she did not want to be involved in even if it was technically still a step up from her current position.

"I'll get right to the point as you're not the only person I need to speak to this morning - it seems you have made the cut for our next round of apprenticeships with the Wizengamot! I'm happy to tell you that all the hard work you've been putting in with Ms Bullstrode in the legislative department has not gone unnoticed. We of course were considering you for the position given your school performance, but as you know it was essential we see a candidate's dedication to the ministry itself."

Hermione's face broke into a dazzling smile, her hands relaxed in her lap as she felt the intense feeling of dread tying her stomach in knots melt away. She felt as though her life were finally moving forward, she was no longer stuck in post-war limbo sifting and sneezing through boxes of files and trying to avoid her own thoughts.

"Thank you so much Minister, I am incredibly grateful, and I cannot wait to start my training, being part of the Wizengamot has been a dream of mine for so long and,"

Kingsley smiled kindly but held up a hand to halt her rambling, Hermione blushed at her faux pas and her hands flew immediately back to the loose strands of her around her face which were starting to frizz. God, she was so nervous and she knew it was showing. This really had been a dream of hers since leaving school a few years back and she couldn't believe it was finally happening, but she knew now was not the time to start blathering.

"I wouldn't go thanking me just yet, I need to let you know who has filled the other positions and hand over your contract for you to peruse, you may not want the job after all that!" He seemed to be joking, but there was something of a genuine warning all the same as he hinted at who her colleagues would be for the next year.

Hermione gulped at the ominous tone of voice as name after name flew through her brain at break neck speed – her mind flipped from Millicent Bullstrode herself to the ghost of Bellatrix Lestrange as she panicked.

"As you know we had many applicants from your year in Hogwarts, and we went on NEWT grades in order to select the best possible candidates for this year's apprentices." He gave her a sympathetic look before moving on to the list in front of him. "Obviously you were the top, making you the first applicant I have met with today. Later today I will be seeing,"

Kingsley's mouth seemed to move in slow motion as Hermione desperately tried to recall who had returned to Hogwarts for one last year to finish their exams and who seemed to have been prepared. Her mind kept returning to those she knew had been near top of the class throughout her school years, and felt her heart sink to the bottom of her chest.

"Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, Padma Patil, Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy."

Hermione knew her face had turned white as a sheet, she never had been particularly good at hiding her emotions, and she felt her mouth go dry as bile threatened to inch its way up her throat.

Four Slytherins, she just couldn't believe it – and Draco Malfoy of all people!

Of course, the rational part of her brain had already reconciled the information. She had known all along this would be a possibility, Draco had threatened her pole position in potions and charms several times, and though she hated to admit it the other Slytherin boys had been particularly adept at arithmancy and defence against the dark arts. She had just been hoping the lot of them had dissipated into the shadier parts of the Wizarding world never to appear again.

"Daphne Greengrass?" Hermione protested weakly, knowing that bringing up any other name would be useless – they certainly had the grades to back up their applications from what she remembered.

"I would have thought you'd remember Miss Greengrass' skills in history of magic and transfiguration, particularly as those are two of your key interests." Kingsley pointed out dryly, a small smile playing about his lips as though he realised Hermione's discomfort and couldn't help but be slightly amused.

Hermione nodded, defeated. Of course, the older Greengrass had beaten her on a few assignments throughout Hogwarts, Hermione supposed she had forgotten as Daphne hadn't been as loudly intolerable as the rest of them. Though that certainly didn't mean she would be happy to see the witch.

"Hermione, I am aware there may be tensions between you and some of the other apprentices, one name comes to mind in particular," A blond pointy face sprung to the forefront of Hermione's mind as Kingsley spoke and she shuddered. "Despite this I expect nothing but respect and good work from all of you. Any behaviour which compromises the integrity and efficiency of the Wizengamot shall be taken incredibly seriously."

"Isn't having an ex-death eater compromising enough?" Hermione mumbled under her breath before she could stop herself, and Kingsley's expression stiffened.

"Has it not occurred to you that a big reason for these young people to be so interested in the machinations of wizarding law and order is to prevent the likes of Tom Riddle ever controlling witches and wizards again? And I'm sure you recall the post-war trials a few years back, these young witches and wizards were found to be innocent at best and under duress at worst." Kingsley said calmly, as though he had anticipated her reaction but was still slightly irritated by it all the same.

Hermione winced and mentally kicked herself. She had recently gotten an earful on being respectful to former Slytherins from Ginny of all people, and this was what Kingsley's reprimand was reminding her of. Ginny had spent a considerable amount of time with the likes of Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini while she played professional quidditch. She'd ended up rather sharply chastising Hermione for her negative comments on the lot of them, informing her quite bluntly that houses 'didn't mean a fucking thing' now that they were all actual adults. She supposed there was some truth in that, and wished she had paid a bit more attention to her best friend so that she might have saved some embarrassment in front of the Minister of Magic.

"Regardless, I don't think now is the time for such conversations, especially as I have the other five successful candidates to speak to." He added curtly, and Hermione nodded.

"Before I leave I would like to apologise for my comments, I was just shocked I didn't mean to be derogatory." She hurriedly explained, and Kingsley gave her a small smile and nod of reassurance before gesturing towards the door.

"That's quite alright Miss Granger, I did dump rather a lot of information on you just now that I'm sure you weren't expecting," He replied calmly, "But please take the weekend to consider your feelings on the matter properly. As I said, there is no room for such opinions in the workplace."

She exited still a little ashamed at her slight outburst, and, staring at the ground, walked straight into the tall, slim figure waiting outside the office.

Hermione jerked back from the young man's firm frame as he stumbled in the opposite direction, both of them landing directly opposite each other on the floor.

"Would you watch where you're…" Draco Malfoy had begun to snarl before he'd even hit the floor, but his sharp comment trailed off as he took in the familiar face before him. "Granger?!" He spluttered in shock.

She looked almost just as she had in school, pretty much the same height which was probably why her dwarfish figure had slammed right into his without looking up first. Her ridiculous hair was scraped back against her skull, revealing her slimmer face and accentuating her jaw and smooth neck.

Despite her new, polished look and evident loss of her baby fat, her eyes were exactly as he remembered. Fiery, glowing amber – almost gold. How fucking Gryffindor. He'd actually last seen her at someone or other's New Years Eve party a few years before, but he doubted she remembered that.

"Well if you hadn't been standing directly in front of the door." She spat back, those electric eyes burning into his own icy grey. Hermione noted he looked far healthier than the last time she had seen him, though granted that had been while he was playing puppet to the cruellest wizard of the century (she had barely seen him at Hogwarts in eighth year, though he had clearly returned to receive his NEWTs). His hair had once been dull and lifeless, and now appeared to be brighter, imitating pale gold. He almost looked beautiful – in an icy, cold and unyielding way.

His lip curled into a snarl once again and Hermione had to bite back a snort of derision – some things did not change.

"If you insist on running around the ministry like a bull in a bloody china shop." He retorted, and it was then that they both seemed to realise where they were – not in the school halls biting at each other like children, but outside the office of the Minister for Magic who was offering both of them the opportunity of a lifetime.

Hermione quickly readjusted her pencil skirt, wiggling it back down over her thighs and muttering a charm to remove the fierce ladder in her tights. Draco snorted at the action – she was dressed in what could barely be labelled office attire, tight red skirts which barely skimmed the knee and rumpled blouses were hardly appropriate.

She stumbled to her feet, willing her blush to disappear as she nearly tripped over her sensible court shoes (Hermione never had been able to hack heels, but it was embarrassing to trip in front of her old nemesis so she tried more than usual to stabilise herself) and angrily pulled a loose strand of her hair back against her head.

"Malfoy." She said with a nod before marching away, praying he hadn't caught the telling shade of red her cheeks had turned – almost the same hue as her skirt.

He watched her leave bemusedly, holding back a grin as she nearly stumbled once again on her ugly shoes rounding a corner. This was going to be fun.

"I don't understand, you pushed him over?"

Hermione groaned into her hands as her best friend took a sip from her Long Island ice tea and tapped a magenta nail against the glass.

It was now 12:15, which in Pansy Parkinson time was definitely cocktail hour.

"I was just trying to get out of there and he was right up against the door, he'd probably been listening the arrogant shit." She grumbled, miserably nursing her green tea as Pansy tried to hold back a smirk.

Her and Pansy had been friends almost as long as Hermione had been working for the ministry, little less than four years. Pansy worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation as she spoke six languages (she'd assured Hermione this had not come from hard work and determination, but an exuberant amount of foreign holidays and nannies as she'd been growing up). She and Hermione had met at her father's trial a little after the war.

Hermione marvelled at Pansy's intelligence and ability to manoeuvre and convince people into giving her what she wanted, Pansy marvelled at Hermione's lack of fashion sense. The unlikely partnership had blossomed from there.

While on paper the two had very little in common, it turned out Pansy was rather hilarious and incredibly loyal, two characteristics Hermione valued very much in a friend. Pansy found Hermione amusing also (though for different reasons) and appreciated her honesty and kind-hearted nature, something she had lacked in a companion pretty much her entire life.

"You do know Draco has worked just as hard for this as you have, I told you he's been slumming it with Hagrid on the school grounds for bloody ages." Pansy pointed out and Hermione nodded from behind her fingers, her lips still downturned in an irritated pout. "And I don't even have to tell you about Daph, Theo and Blaise – I talk about those three and their voluntary work all the time."

It was true, as though Pansy had meshed incredibly well with Hermione and her friends that didn't mean she had abandoned her Slytherin partnerships. Hermione had once enquired about why it was Pansy continued to hang out with such secluded, distant characters and Pansy had bluntly replied;

"Who the fuck else would go to Venice with me and get smashed each summer? You're all off the market and can't speak Italian for shit."

Hermione had begrudgingly accepted her answer and said nothing more on the matter. It wasn't that she was anti-Slytherin or disliked people she had bickered with in school, that was far from it and evident in her close friendship with Pansy Parkinson, it was those particular Slytherins she found herself not trusting.

Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy and the Greengrass sisters were among the few purebloods who after clearing their names in the trials after the defeat of Voldemort had retreated almost completely from society. Harry and Ron had theorised early on that they were hiding their plot to revive the death eater movement, and though Hermione acted as though she agreed, a small rational voice in the back of her head explained that they probably feared rejection and belittlement in the new society which had formed after the war. She knew plenty in the population doubted they had changed at all, and apart from anything else, the changing times had brought with it an influx of muggle culture.

The ministry and St. Mungo's now utilised pagers for emergencies for example, with many offices going so far as to purchase employee mobile phones – a much more efficient way of keeping in touch during work hours than using owls. Though she hated to admit it, Hermione knew it must be incredibly daunting for the Slytherins to assimilate into society – they were effectively social pariahs anyway and their antiquated pureblood ways just made things harder. She couldn't imagine Draco Malfoy going to one of the after hours ministry workshops like 'How to Text' or 'Using a Biro'. Maybe she should be trying a little harder to see them in a positive light.

Pansy sighed as she reached the end of her drink and smiled prettily at a waiter who quickly began to move to their table.

"This is too difficult of a situation to discuss over pissing tea Hermione," She said, beaming up at the waiter as she ordered two porn star martinis. "I think its time I take you out in the city again." A wicked grin spread across her beautiful face as Hermione moaned into her palms.

"Not again Pansy, you saw what happened last time." She thought back to the dreaded Friday a few months ago. She and Pansy had drained a bottle of fire whisky and ended up completely smashed in muggle London. Pansy had snogged a stranger and Hermione had almost gone home with Terry Boot (why the 'Ravenclaw bore' as Pansy dubbed him was out in a muggle club they still had no idea). "And besides it's not even half twelve, I have to be back in the office for one."

Pansy made a face as she delicately sipped from the bright orange drink which had just been placed in front of her. Service, it seemed, was impeccable when one was beautiful and flirted with the wait staff.

"As if you're going back to that hell hole, Hermione you've been promoted! That means not more Bullstrode and no more fucking filing!"

Hermione looked sheepishly up from her hands and then towards the tempting martini in front of her.

"We have to celebrate, remember the night after you broke up with Weasley? Don't tell me I don't know how to cheer you up."

Hermione winced as she thought back to that messy evening a few years before. Pansy had somehow managed to convince her that a night out in Rome after she had ended the only real relationship she'd ever had was a good idea. While it had been an incredible evening, the brunette was unwilling to give her smarmy friend credit.

"Yes, and that too was a fully-fledged disaster." She snapped back, although she caved a little and took a sip from the cocktail in front of her. It was dangerously sweet, the alcohol barely detectable. She had a sneaking suspicion she would not be feeling very well tomorrow.

"I would hardly call dancing with the lead singer of the Wyrd sisters a disaster," Pansy snorted, knowing her best friend well enough to tell Hermione was kidding herself. "Besides I was serious about celebrating, you got into the fucking Wizengamot! You're an apprentice!"

"Yes, but so's Malfoy," Hermione muttered, "I would hardly call the infiltration of ex-death eaters into the ministry a reason to celebrate." The moment the words were out of her mouth she knew they were the wrong thing to say, and she clapped a hand over her mouth as though that could erase what she had just said.

Pansy's face fell immediately as she pushed the martini away from her and looked away. Bringing up the death eaters was certainly a sore subject, not least because of how Pansy herself had suffered at the hands of their manipulations, but also because of the prejudice she herself still faced due to her family's involvement in the war.

"Did you ever think that we just want things to be better too? That we also want to escape the hell we endured at the will of the dark lord? The hell our families endured?" She replied quietly. Hermione shot her hand across the table to clasp Pansy's, although the raven-haired girl resisted.

"It's not the same Pans." She insisted, her voice earnest as she sought out the other girl's eyes.

"Yes, it is." Pansy spoke in a voice barely louder than a whisper, and Hermione recognised the far away look in her bright blue eyes. She also knew that Pansy was probably right, she was just having such a difficult time associating the funny, passionate, loving girl before her with any of those other snakes.

Hermione and Pansy had met in the Wizengamot itself, on the 28th of April 1999. Edgar Parkinson was on trial for his crimes against wizard kind, and Hermione had watched with grim fascination as his own daughter was called to testify against him.

She remembered how the younger Parkinson had stared straight at Shacklebolt the entire time, speaking only to him and trying to block out the sounds of her father's screams and pleas for mercy. She remembered how despite her display of confidence, Pansy's eyes had been wet with tears the entire time she spoke, tears which fell when Edgar cried out;

"Blood traitor, HOW COULD YOU?" Along with streams of harmful slurs and threats.

He had been taken to Azkaban that day, dragged out of the chamber by dementors, screaming that he would kill Pansy when he escaped, that she would never know peace again and the Parkinson line would die with him.

Although Hermione had been aware of Pansy working at the ministry a while before that day, that was the first time they spoke.
She had invited Pansy out for coffee and allowed her to speak for hours on end about how difficult a decision it had been, agreeing to testify against the only living member of her family. She had talked about the times Edgar had been a good father while she was growing up, how he had cared for her once before he fell back in to the service of the Dark Lord.

And Hermione had listened, all the while watching the far away expression on Parkinson's face, as though she were speaking to no one in particular, but just needed the words to be out of her mouth.

The look had reappeared many times since then, though less often now. Hermione had always been the one by her side when she needed it, ensuring Pansy was never left with those thoughts alone for too long – and it killed her that she had been the one to bring them back to the surface once again.

"Pansy, I'm sorry. I think you're right," Hermione began slowly, choosing her words carefully. Though she wasn't entirely convinced of what she was about to say she also didn't want to hurt a witch she respected so much.
"Though I don't know Malfoy, and I sure as hell don't trust him, I can see how the same could be said for his motivations working for the ministry as of yours."

Pansy turned back to face Hermione, blinking away the dampness from her perfectly made-up eyes.

"Thank you, Hermione, truly. I don't expect you to be friends, although that would make things a lot easier for me," She smirked slightly, and Hermione rolled her eyes, confident that she had managed to pull Pansy back from her thoughts, "But it's important to me that you do not see them as their parents. None of us are." She spoke firmly although the tremor in her voice was still evident.

Hermione nodded begrudgingly and took a long drink from her martini.

"And now that you owe me one you're definitely coming out tonight." Pansy grinned, and Hermione sighed.

"You know sometimes I forget you're a Slytherin, before you say something like that."

"Well more fool you." Pansy teased, raising her glass and clinking it gently with Hermione's. "Now let's get smashed."

Well there you have it! First chapter up and several more written with many to come! Please let me know if you have any questions or tips or comments, it would be lovely to see some reviews. By the way, I spent a little time on Pansy & Hermione's friendship just because I love Pansy as a character in this way, but I wanted to make it clear why they've decided to become so close.

See you soon, hope you enjoyed!