Six days after Hermione had stormed out of Cameron House in Loch Lomond, she still seethed about it. At her desk in the Ministry of Magic, Hermione remained irritable and easily distracted. She had resorted to tonics from St. Mungo's for her near constant headaches. They got to be so bad that she very nearly considered going home for the day, but her sense of duty prevented her from doing so.

So, she sighed as she signed a form she had been working on, and charmed it to fold itself into a paper airplane, to be sent to Kingsley's office. She sighed, and returned to reading reports of magical law breaking, signing off on fines and correspondence between offices. Hermione usually loathed this kind of work, though it was a necessary evil in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but today she had no energy to devote to hating the tedium of Ministry work.

She was so lost in her thoughts about Saturday night that she barely noticed her name being called to her. She rubbed at her eyes, and it wasn't until the fourth time her name had been called that she realized Kingsley Shacklebolt stood before her, a look of concern playing on his face.

"You alright, Hermione?" he asked, his dark eyes narrowing at the sight of Hermione shrunken the way she was.

"Yes, Minister," she said, and sat up straighter. "Headache's all."

"'Minister'…" Kingsley grumbled. "When am I going to get you to start calling me Kingsley?"

Hermione smiled tiredly. "It's only 'Minister' at work, sir. That's my rule."

Kingsley nodded and smirked. "We'll have to agree to disagree." His eyes sparkled a moment.

Hermione looked at her employer patiently. For Kingsley to come to Hermione's desk on a Friday morning, it meant that he needed something. The Minister of Magic did not often pay social calls to his subordinates.

Kingsley sighed. "Well, I'll get right to it then," he said, not wishing to delay the inevitable any longer. "I've got a case for you. I know your workload has been a bit dull lately, and this… promises to be anything but that."

Hermione didn't like the sound of that. "Oh?" she asked, dutifully. "What have you got for me?"

"I've offered it to others on this floor, I promise," Kingsley said, bolstering his case. "No one else would take it because of the… clientele."

Hermione's stomach flipped. "Who is it, Kingsley?"

Kingsley sighed. "The Malfoys. Or rather, their company."

"What?" Hermione shouted. Immediately she regretted her volume, but narrowed her eyes at Kingsley. "And you thought I would be a suitable case worker?"

"Actually, Hermione, yes," Kingsley said, drawing himself up, ever the impressive figure in his midnight blue robes. "Malfoy Magical Technologies is looking to expand into a new Muggle technology and research, and seeing as you are my best worker here in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and you also happen to be Muggle born, you would be the best person to steer this ship."

Hermione brought her fingers to the bridge of her nose and pinched. This headache was probably going to turn into a migraine very soon.

She wanted nothing more than to reject Kingsley then and there. The idea that she would have to face that snake again repulsed her. The way he'd prowled around her almost a week ago made her skin crawl. Why in Merlin's name had she even agreed to go? She would be mortified if she ever had to see him in person.

Still. Hermione was a model employee, and wanted to rise in the ranks of the Ministry. She had hopes that one day she might be the Minister, but that was a long way away. But she wouldn't get there if she weren't a team player. Normally she was, but now? This was a trial like she hadn't faced since she was eighteen, and she was chasing Horcruxes across England.

"What's the technology?" Hermione asked, removing her hand from her face, and looking at Kingsley through bleary eyes.

"Mobile Telephones," Kingsley said, stilted.

Hermione laughed weakly. "Kingsley, the Wizarding world hasn't even brought in corded Muggle telephones. Going straight to cellular telephones?" She shook her head.

Kingsley was silent a moment, and Hermione realized he probably didn't know the difference between corded and cellular phones. "Well, the Malfoys have reasoning there. They're better able to explain. Which they actually will be doing today, so you need to look sharp."

"T-today?" Hermione said, scooting her chair back abruptly.

"Yes, I'm sorry I couldn't delay them any further. It took me the week to get around to asking everyone else, that they won't be put off any longer."

Hermione might not have had the same reaction last week, before she knew that Lucius Malfoy headed the clandestine Erotes Society. The Malfoys had been reintegrated back into the Wizarding community through great pains. The Malfoys had made reparations to Hogwarts, and had spearheaded many philanthropic efforts. Hermione knew it was all hot air, but still, they were still fixtures of Wizarding society. She had encountered Draco a handful of times since Voldemort's defeat, and though he hadn't been downright rude, he had been standoffish and cold. Considering his past, this was a considerable improvement.

And the Malfoys had certainly stopped groaning on about "purity" and that nonsense, at least in public. Hermione suspected they probably still held their prejudices, but kept them to themselves.

But that was just the Malfoys in society in general. Now it was different. Now she was involved.

"Kingsley," Hermione said, standing, "I haven't been able to even read the case." She smoothed the skirt of her dress down, suddenly worried that her cream, silk brocade dress wasn't suitable work attire.

Kingsley raised his hands reassuringly. "That's fine, Hermione, they just wanted to meet with their case worker so they could explain their ideas. This is routine. You've done this dozens of times before."

Hermione ran her hand over her plaited hair in defeat.

"How long do I have until they're here?" Hermione asked, trying to remain calm.

"Within the hour I'd say," Kingsley said, his eyes full with his apology.

Hermione didn't know what to do with herself, so she rested her fingertips on her forehead. They shook only slightly. "Uh," she started. "Ok, I need some time to get ready then. I'll be in the conference room in an hour." She started to walk away, not bothering to be dismissed by Kingsley. She was so caught up in herself that Kingsley had to stop her.

"Hermione," Kingsley called to the dazed girl walking towards the break room.

Hermione turned, the color of her face pale. "Yes?"

"I won't forget that you're doing this," he said. "I know you're an ambitious girl."

This gave Hermione some small comfort, and she upturned the corners of her mouth in what she assumed might pass for a smile. She had other things to be thinking about now, rather than her own upward mobility within the Ministry.

Hermione paced up and down the hallways surrounding the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. After several minutes of this, to steady her hands, Hermione entered the staff workroom, where she made tea with a manic fury that she had no idea she possessed. Hermione made quick, but sloppy-for-her work of setting her kettle boiling with her wand. Satisfied that the water was hot enough, she poured it over the bags they had in a communal box. It wasn't loose leaf, but it was enough for one person, and she would have drunk pond water at this point, she was so consumed with her thoughts.

The Malfoys. Here, at the Ministry. And Hermione was sure that Lucius knew it was her that night at Erotes. At first, she wasn't sure if he knew, the way he prowled around her, but when they were in that hallway, when he had confessed he knew he'd done terrible things to 'her and her friends'… There was no doubt that Lucius knew it was Hermione. And that made facing him even more stomach churning.

What had he said? 'I'll be waiting'? The thought made her shudder.

Still, this was her job, and she couldn't refuse. The Erotes Society, after all, maintained complete anonymity outside of their meetings. Why should the Leader of the Society be an exception?

No, Hermione would not give him the satisfaction of being flustered, or shirking her duties. So, with what little courage she could muster, Hermione cleared her throat, grabbed her mug of tea, and marched off towards the conference room. Through the glass walls of the conference room, Hermione made out two silver-headed figures in black tailored suits, Draco with a purple ascot, and Lucius with a silver one. The elder Malfoy stood a few inches over the younger, his figure impressive.

Hermione swallowed, set her jaw, and walked into the conference room, where the two men turned. Draco's face was impassive, but Hermione noticed a look on Lucius's face that displayed there for a millisecond. She couldn't quite place it, but with his eyes darting down to Hermione's body, then back up at her face, she could only guess.

"You," Draco said, his voice full of shock.

It wasn't the acidic tone she had expected. Still, their presence offended, so she sighed.

"Indeed, me," Hermione said, setting her mug down on the wooden table, which looked as if it belonged in a banquet hall rather than a conference room. "I'm afraid I'm the only case worker who would take on a case of such… complexity."

"Draco, we must take what we are given," Lucius said, holding his hand out to be shaken by Hermione. Hermione's eyebrows threatened to knit together, but Hermione held it together and extended her own hand for a terse handshake. Draco sighed, and did the same.

"Sit down, please," Hermione said, choosing the head of the table, leaving Draco and Lucius to take the seats down the length of the table. Draco placed a well-made, black, soft sided leather briefcase on the table, which he then proceeded to open, and pull out papers for Hermione.

"Miss Granger, are you alright?" Lucius asked, his voice bordering on taunting. "You look a little pale."

Hermione forced a smile, and smoothed a few baby hairs off her forehead. "I am alright, Mister Malfoy, just a headache."

"We could always come back, when you are… ready," his tone was flat.

Hermione took the papers that had been put in front of her. "No, Mister Malfoy, you have already waited a week to be seen by someone at the Ministry." She looked at the papers. "So, Messer's Malfoy, please tell me why you're here today."

Lucius looked down on Hermione with a cold condescension that shocked Hermione. Was this the same man who had not a week before offered to take her to bed? If he indeed could separate his extra curricular activities and his work life, Hermione was impressed, if not a little frightened by what this meant about him as a person.

"Our company, though we have taken great pains to hide this fact over the years, utilizes and invests in Muggle technology. Purely a financial decision, I assure you."

Hermione's eyes opened wide. This was a surprise. The Malfoys, the most notorious of the prejudiced, pure blood wizarding families, was profiting from Muggle technology.

"Well, Mister Malfoy, this is a surprise," Hermione started, and began to look through the papers in front of her. "I hear that you wish to utilize mobiles. Please, tell me more about that."

"Draco will be the one to explain that to you," Lucius said, arrogantly placing his arm on the back of his chair. "You see, Miss Granger, this is Draco's endeavor, one that I will have no part in after today. Let us hope this gamble pays off."

Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for Draco. She had seen the way his father badgered him in the past, and once or twice in their school days, it had occurred to Hermione that Draco might have been a foul git only because his father had indoctrinated him as such. Still, knowing that people like Sirius could reject their familial prejudices, Hermione's sympathy only extended so far.

So, Draco drew himself up impressively, and cleared his throat. "Mobiles are a growing technology in the Muggle world," he said, with less of the arrogant tone his father commanded. "It's the twenty-first century now, and it looks as if they aren't going away. I've long thought telephones could be adapted to fit the wizarding community, but wasn't sure how until mobiles became more commonplace."

Hermione smiled and hid a snigger. Draco had actually thought of such things? How very un-Malfoy of him. She quickly stifled her reaction as not to incense the elder Malfoy, whose eyes blazed a fierce blue at her reaction.

"Very well, Mister Malfoy," Hermione said, addressing Draco. "But do you mean to completely replace the owl system? I think the Wizarding community would be hard pressed to do away with such an honored tradition."

Lucius scoffed. "My thoughts exactly."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. Hermione, in her heart, welcomed the idea that the Wizarding community would start to advance technologically. She hated skirting both the Muggle community and the Wizarding community, and not being able to bridge the gap. Lucius's attitude, though not surprising, only added insult to the fact that he was here, seeking her help.

"I want you both to know that I will be taking this case very seriously, and we will find a solution that not only honors the Wizarding community, but brings it into the twenty-first century," Hermione hoped this diplomacy would set the senior Malfoy at ease at this new venture.

Draco nodded. His eyes shifted sideways towards his father. He adopted a stern expression. "When can we begin this process, then, Granger?"

Hermione paused a moment, and read his tone. She new when Draco's insults were genuine. This felt very much like showboating. She raised her eyebrows in amusement.

"Monday," she said flatly. "This is my only case, so we will start at nine in the morning. I'll take the weekend to look all this over," she glanced down at the stack of papers, "and hopefully we can start sketching out a plan."

"Very well," Lucius said, standing abruptly, buttoning his tailored coat. Hermione, shocked that the meeting went so quickly, stood to match Lucius's movements. Draco languidly followed. "I'll return when the plan is laid out. I don't want to be bothered with this until it's done." He left so quickly, Hermione's mouth hung open. She hadn't known what to expect from his visit.

Only, Draco stayed behind. They both watched Lucius walk away, office workers scattering as they saw him approaching. As they watched, Draco addressed Hermione in a way that utterly shocked her.

"Sorry," he said, awkwardly. "He's… never really liked to admit to anyone that we utilize Muggle technologies sometimes. I had to fight to get him to agree to let the company take on telephones."

"Er…" Hermione stood gaping still. "You're sorry?"

This woke something in Draco, and he huffed. "See you on Monday, Granger," he said, and skulked off in the same direction as his father, causing the same reaction among the Ministry workers.

Utterly bewildered at what she'd just gone through, Hermione scooped up the Malfoy Magical Technologies papers and her untouched tea, and walked to her desk, where she plopped down. Her vision started to blur a bit, and the light in the office seemed a bit too bright. Nausea finally gripped her, and she realized as it hit her like a ton of bricks—her tension headache was now a raging migraine.

Unable to cope any further with work, Hermione grabbed her things, and headed for the Floo network downstairs. She was sure if she stayed at work a minute longer, she would be sick. They could fire her for leaving early, but she knew they wouldn't. In her haste to leave the Ministry, Hermione forgot to grab the case file.

Parvati and Hermione sat in a terse silence across from each other. It was a warm spring morning, and it seemed the perfect weather for brunch in Diagon Alley. The patio table held two mimosas.

"Am I going to have to beat it out of you?" Parvati asked finally, taking her drink in her hand.

"What exactly do you mean?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione, how was it? You haven't responded to my owls all week, I have to know."

"It wasn't," Hermione said, busying herself by drinking half her mimosa.

"Wasn't what?" Parvati asked after a pause.

"It just wasn't, it didn't happen," Hermione said, not wishing to beleaguer the point any further.

"You didn't go through with it?" Parvati shouted, drawing looks from other restaurant patrons. She lowered her voice. "Hermione, the Leader himself spoke up for you. And you rejected him?" Her eyes filled with dread.

"Well it doesn't matter, because I'm not going again," Hermione said. "I'm not getting into bed with that snake."

Parvati grumbled, and adjusted her sunglasses. "You told me you would try it once. You didn't even give it a chance."

"Parvati, in case you have forgotten—I know you weren't there for it, but you know—that man sat by while I was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. The things he did… Even he says he knows they're horrible, but that's not exactly an apology."

Parvati sighed. "Hermione… I don't mean to be a bitch but…"

"Get over it?" Hermione asked, her eyes wild.

"No, but… Remember what the Society is? It's anonymous. It doesn't matter who you are. Your real identity doesn't matter when you show up. I'm not saying he isn't a horrible man, but look at what he's done these past few years."

"Smoke and mirrors, Parvati," Hermione said, pouring more mimosa from the carafe on their table. "And no one else spoke up for me, so am I supposed to just take what I can get? That doesn't seem very liberating."

"Well," Parvati said, chewing her lip. "Not that it matters now, but… I didn't exactly get a chance to talk to you after your Naming."

Hermione's eyes lit up. She'd completely forgotten that part. "Yeah, what exactly was that? Why was my name such a big deal?"

"Well," Parvati said, looking around at the other patio tables, trying to figure out if they were being eavesdropped on.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Hermione said, grabbing her wand. "Muffliato. There, now no one can hear us. Out with it."

"Persephone," Parvati said, steeling herself with another sip of her mimosa. "There was another Persephone in the group before."

"Yeah, and?"

"It was Narcissa," Parvati blanched.

Hermione felt a pit form in her stomach. She didn't want what she was thinking to be true, but she had to ask.

"Parvati, what is Lucius's alias?"

Parvati was quiet a moment. "Hades."

Hermione laughed breathily, and felt momentarily like crying. Hades, in Greek mythology, was the god of the underworld, and Persephone was his captive consort. "Oh, how fitting… What the fuck, Parvati? What does that mean?"

Parvati looked perplexed. "I don't know, I mean… Narcissa and Lucius alike were free to choose partners within the Society, but him choosing to give you that name was not lost on anyone."

"But what does it mean?" Hermione pressed the point.

"I don't know, 'Mione! But it would certainly explain why none of the other council members spoke up for you. Maybe they didn't want to… I don't know, take that privilege away from him? Being your tutor."

"You say it like I'm a piece of property, Parvati. That's sick!"

"Well," Parvati said, shrugging. "People can get possessive with partners, it's true. People have favorites. Blaise comes to me almost every time, but I'm always able to pick someone else. No one is going to prevent you from being with anyone else, Hermione. It's just that for what ever reason, he wanted to be your tutor. It is a huge honor," she added smally.

Hermione bristled a moment, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Have… you ever? With him?"

Parvati sighed like she was a fifth year Hogwarts student again. "No, but I would. There's kind of a hierarchy, and you normally let the council approach you."

"Who does he usually, you know… ask?"

"Hermione, if you're so curious about him, just go."

Hermione reversed the muffliato charm just as their brunch was being served to them. "If I even get another invitation. He was rather terse when he came into the Ministry yesterday."

Both Parvati and Hermione began picking away at their eggs benedict. "He's not supposed to act any differently outside of the Society. Don't take offense to that."

"Well, he's a ponce in real life, so that I can take offense to on its own merit," Hermione said, and the two girls laughed lightly.

Parvati opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't get a word out for being interrupted.

"Hermione?" a familiar voice came from behind her on the sidewalk. Hermione turned, and saw Harry, hand-in-hand with Ginny. Hermione smiled and stood to greet the two.

"Harry! Ginny!" she hugged them both over the small railing that separated the patio seating of the restaurant and the greater part of the sidewalk. "What are you all doing here?"

"Just went for a film," Harry said, his smile oddly staged. "That new business that just started showing Muggle films? It's actually getting a bit popular. Hi Parvati!"

Parvati inclined her head in greeting.

"Oh yeah, what did you see?" Hermione asked, looking from one friend to the other.

"Er," Ginny said, grabbing onto Harry's arm with her free hand. "What was it? The Godfather?"

Hermione smiled and laughed. "Bit of a classic, I'd say."

Harry and Ginny nodded, and the three of them stood there. Hermione had been growing apart from Harry and Ginny after her breakup with Ron, but it was still a fresh wound. She knew she would always find her way back to Harry and Ginny, but something about this meeting felt off to her.

"Everything alright, guys?" she asked, hopeful.

"Yeah—Hermione," Harry started, in a way Hermione knew was about to be a bit of a blow, "please don't be upset but we've just been to the theatre with… Ron."

"Oh," Hermione said, her smile now growing painful. "Yes, of course, I mean… You can't stop being friends with him just because of, you know…"

"Right," Ginny said, speaking up. "But there's the thing, Hermione—"

"Alright then, I'm starving, where's lunch?" Ron's familiar drawl came up from around the corner, but what Hermione saw shocked her to her core.

Ron's arm was draped casually over Romilda Vane's shoulders, and the two of them appeared to be all over each other. Hermione felt as if she had been punched in the gut.

"Hermione, I'm so, so sorry," Harry said, not knowing how to explain himself.

"I cannot fucking believe this," Hermione said, her eyes filling with tears. She refused to blink, lest they fall.

Ron's face fell, and he promptly removed his arm from around Romilda. Romilda, on the other hand, looked at Hermione like her face had just sprouted hundreds of pustules.

Hermione scraped her chair back over the cobblestones, grabbing her purse as she made to leave. Parvati snapped to attention, and dug in her pocket for a handful of galleons, which she promptly dropped on the table.

"Hermione, please, we don't want there to be any bad blood between any of us," Ginny pleaded as Hermione made her way around the tables so she could walk out onto the sidewalk and away from her friends who had dealt her such an insulting blow.

"Hermione, we just want to get along with everyone," Harry said, his face fallen and full of sadness.

Hermione reached them in the sidewalk and paused a moment. "I can understand staying friends with him, Harry, I really can," Hermione said. "I did after all think I was going to spend the rest of my life with him. I did love him. But what I can't forgive, Harry, is cavorting with that…" Hermione clenched her jaw, and it was Parvati's presence at her side that steeled her.

"What I can't forgive is cavorting with that whore." She laughed to herself pitifully, and finally tears fell. Parvati followed in Hermione's wake as she made her way down Diagon Alley, leaving her best friends behind her.

Once the two of them had rounded the corner, Hermione chanced a glance back, and Parvati looked at Hermione to allow her to decide what to do next (sometimes the best way to support a friend is to say nothing, Parvati reasoned).

Hermione reached into her purse, of course bewitched with the same spells as her old beaded bag from the Horcrux hunt, and grabbed a vial. Without a word, she put her wand to her temple, and pulled out a silvery web of a memory, and placed it into the vial. As she did so, she realized her hands were shaking.

"Right," Hermione said, nodding, and thinking a moment as she put a stopper on the vial before putting it back in her purse. She never wanted to forget this feeling. If she needed to, she would place the memory in her Pensieve. "You say the letters come at eight in the evening every Saturday, right?"

Parvati's face lit up, and she squealed in delight, throwing her arms around Hermione.

AN: Thank you so much for the reviews and thoughts. They mean a lot. They help me stay inspired to keep going. I definitely feel inspired by you guys to keep going, and have a third chapter halfway written. I don't want to rush anything, so this chapter will be up in a few days' time. I have a few Grown Up Responsibilities to tend to, but once I can, I will update for you.

As always, please share thoughts. I like your input as I steer this story around.