Experience

Monday – Day One

Hermione was quivering with pride, it seemed that Hogwarts teachers did look at the suggestion box after all. Hermione felt that she was at last being appreciated. She placed the suggestion that students in their final year should take two weeks out before exams to have experience in the career that the pupils wanted to go into before they left school. Two weeks was sufficient enough to let the person know that they were going in the right direction.

Hermione wanted to be a secretary. She loved nothing better than organising other people, and making sure that they were kept on schedule. Hermione had practically been a secretary for Harry and Ron since she had known them.

Hermione was nervous; she was sitting on a bench in the foyer of the Ministry. She did not know whom her boss was going to be. She hoped that she was going to be Arthur’s. God knows the man needed a firm hand to organise his schedule. Plus she had known Arthur almost as long as she had known Ron, and loved the man.

She was wearing a fairly smart muggle suit and had her hair in a severe French plait. She patted the back of her head to make sure no stray coils had escaped. Hermione’s stomach had butterflies as she saw the Minister for Magic – Rufus Scrimgeour – coming her way. Hermione stood up and smoothed down the front of her suit and breathed on her hand to make sure her breath was all right.

“Miss Granger,” the Minister greeted the young woman. Hermione had only briefly met the Minister at Dumbledore’s funeral and took a decided hatred of the man. She would show cordiality, however, and put up with him. She was sure he was going to be her boss now.

“Minister,” Hermione said politely.

“Let me take you to my office where you will meet the Wizard who you will keep in line for the next two weeks.”

Hermione smiled sweetly. The Minister offered her his arm in an act of civility. He led her into a lift and Hermione felt her stomach go into her throat as the lift made its way up the various floors of the busy Ministry. The lift came to a sudden halt and the Minister turned to her and smiled. The doors opened smoothly and silently. He led her out of the lift and walked her to his office. Hermione gasped at the size of it. It was almost penthouse in size and the he had light streaming in from the windows. Hermione could be the Minister for Magic just to have an office like that.

Rufus offered for her to take a seat and she accepted silently. Hermione sat on the seat.

“Coffee?” Rufus asked.

“Yes please,” Hermione said. “White, medium, no sugar.”

Rufus raised an eyebrow. She was obviously used to giving commands. Hermione started drumming her fingers on her leg. Rufus clicked his fingers and his secretary came into the room he told the secretary to give Miss Granger the coffee she wanted.

“Sir, shall I show him in as well?” the secretary asked.

“Oh, he’s arrived?” Rufus asked. “Then, yes, show him in!”

Hermione began to fidget slightly in her seat. She took an immediate interest in her feet and decided that she would like whomever the Ministry had chosen to help her in developing her skills. The door opened and Hermione heard a confident step. That was a good sign, Hermione thought, at least the Wizard would be one that would know exactly what he wants.

“Ah, Miss Granger, would you please rise from your seat and meet your employer,” Rufus said politely.

Hermione got up smoothed down the front of her navy suit again and turned around, her face still looking at the floor.

“I’m looking forward to training you, Miss Granger,” a smooth, cultured voice said. Hermione’s heart stopped beating for a second and she slowly lifted her head to look at her trainer.

“Mr Malfoy?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I am sure you know the circumstances.”

“I read about it,” Hermione replied. Lucius stood there leering at her.

“Now,” Rufus said. “I might suggest you two spend at least half an hour in casual chat before you start training her.”

Lucius smirked at the Minister and bowed slightly. He then offered his arm to Hermione who took it tentatively. She walked as steadily as she could. Lucius walked her out of the room and back to the lift. His office was on the third floor.

“So,” Hermione said in an effort to start a conversation, “it’s true then. You have given names of your acquaintances and got back to your cushy position in the Ministry.”

Lucius turned towards her. She had spoke to him without looking at him. He cocked his head to one side and contemplated her profile.

“The Dark Lord used my son to punish me,” Lucius said dispassionately, “it was the last straw. He had truly shown his true colours the night he murdered my son. Potter was right about him.”

Hermione was gobsmacked at that strange confession. Lucius Malfoy; proud, arrogant, Lucius Malfoy had conceded to a young boy – an enemy? Lucius noticed he had startled the young woman. He had told the truth, he saw no point in lying. He decided to look her up and down.

“And what of Mrs Malfoy?” Hermione asked quietly.

“She died of a broken heart that very night,” he replied with a sigh. “It might not have appeared so, Miss Granger, but I did like my family. I have galleons by the score but there were very few women like Narcissa, and we could never have another child after Draco was born.”

Hermione remained silent. This was more than a casual chat. Lucius sighed and then the lift stopped. The doors opened silently and Lucius stepped out offering his hand to the young woman.

Hermione accepted the hand and they walked down the hall to his office. It was not as spacious or as light as the Ministers but it was still luxurious none the less. Hermione noted the settee at the far end of the room.

He took her to a chair and sat her down and he walked around the desk and sat on the chair opposite, he joined his hands together and placed them on the desk. He became business like.

“Miss Granger,” he sighed. “I am a harsh taskmaster I think you’ll find. I expect perfection and I expect efficiency, organisation and the ability to keep your head about when things start getting hectic... and believe me there are hectic days.

I understand that you are not to be paid for your services these next two weeks but, contrary to popular belief, I am actually quite generous when it comes to my money... I have squared with the Minister that you are to get slightly less than the minimum wage. I want you to have some sort of incentive after all. The minimum for a young Witch of your age is 1 gold galleon and seven Knuts. I will pay you instead twelve silver sickles per hour... would that be sufficient?”

WOULD THAT BE SUFFICIENT? Hermione roared the question to herself.

“It’s a damn sight better than nothing,” she said aloud possibly without meaning to. Lucius smirked a little at that spoken thought.

“Any questions?” Lucius asked. He leant back and steepled his fingers.

“Yes, how long is lunch?”

“An hour,” Lucius smiled.

“And where is my desk?”

Lucius smile grew wider and he gestured over to a desk situated by a window, showing what the weather was outside, as the Ministry was situated under the streets of Muggle London they had enchanted windows to show the weather of the moment – although some people enchanted theirs to be permanently warm and sunny.

Hermione didn’t realise she would be in this close proximity of Lucius Malfoy... she was hoping for a wall to separate them.

“My lunch hour and your lunch hour is to be the same. I take lunch at one till two.”

Hermione nodded. Harry and Ron had managed that self same lunch hour. Lucius got up off the seat and went to her.

“There is a canteen here in the Ministry,” he said.

“Run by house elves I imagine,” Hermione muttered. Lucius heard but chose to ignore. His son had told him all about her little campaign to free elves. Not realising that she was not the first that had tried and failed.

“Now,” he sighed. “Let me show you where the canteen is.”

She took his offered arm again, and they made their way to the canteen. She noticed that it looked much like a school canteen. The seats were plastic and the tables were cheap with wobbly legs. She looked around.

“And you lunch here?” Hermione asked disbelief in her voice.

“No,” he said. “I have a better place to lunch. This is for general staff and work experience people...”

Hermione nodded. It would be too incongruous for Lucius Malfoy to sit here and lunch. It was too common.

“So,” he sighed. “You know where everything is.”

“Apart from a lavatory,” Hermione replied.

“Ah, of course, there is one two doors down from my office on the same side,” he replied.

Hermione nodded. “That appears to be everything.”

She squared her shoulders and they were just about to walk back to his office when they bumped into Arthur Weasley with his hand proudly adorning his son’s shoulder.

“Mr Malfoy,” Arthur said coldly.

“Arthur,” Lucius replied. He looked down at the son. He sighed a little, he had always been jealous of Arthur Weasley’s profundity of children.

“Showing Ron around the Ministry,” Arthur said with a hint of smugness in his voice as he squeezed Ron’s shoulder. For once Hermione felt a small swell of pity rise up inside her for Lucius Malfoy.

“Mr Weasley,” Hermione said respectfully, “please don’t.”

“Ah, Weasley,” Lucius said turning towards her. “I don’t suppose you know my secretary for the next two weeks. I rather gathered you wanted her to. I’ll leave you to find your own way back Miss Granger, I trust you took in the details.”

Hermione nodded. She was one of the few first years that didn’t get lost around Hogwarts in her first week. Lucius walked past Arthur who stepped aside.

“Wow,” Ron breathed. “You’re stuck with smarmy bastard!”

“He’s not a bastard,” Hermione said. “I am prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt, and guess what! He’s prepared to pay me twelve silver sickles an hour.”

“But that’s against the rules!” Ron exclaimed.

“Perks of working with a Slytherin,” Hermione said a little proudly.

“Be careful, Hermione,” Arthur cautioned. “I was here the first time he was supposedly to have turned.”

“The first time he supposedly turned his wife and child were still alive,” Hermione said. “This time his son is murdered and his wife died of a broken heart, and get this – he actually admitted that Harry’s right about You-Know-Who.”

“He’ll say anything,” Arthur said. “I am not comfortable with the idea that you are working in such close proximity with him.”

“Don’t worry, Arthur, he’s been gentlemanly so far.”

Arthur sighed. If only she knew what Lucius sometimes expected his secretary’s to do. She hugged Ron and then walked away back to Lucius office. Somehow Arthur’s hatred of Lucius irked her. Gryffindors were supposed to be above all that. She walked down the hall and opened the door to Lucius office.

His back was turned and his hands were joined together at the base of it. Hermione could tell the man was lost in his own world.
“Close the door,” he said quietly. She closed the door with a snap. He turned around and looked at her. Hermione felt he was staring right through her. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Hermione asked.

“Defend me?” Lucius asked. Hermione furrowed her brow, and she felt awkward.

“I felt that Arthur was in the wrong,” Hermione whispered. “I know it must be some sort of revenge on his part but it is still wrong to tease a man that has lost people he cares about. No matter whose side they are on.”

“I did not list loyalty as one of things I wanted from you, as you are only here for two weeks.”

“It’s just my nature, sir,” Hermione said. “I hate seeing people suffer.”

Lucius remained quiet as he contemplated the young woman. She was already proving to be good company. At least he can talk to her, which surprised him rather. The little girl he had met in Flourish and Blotts had indeed grown up. He did not know how to tackle the young woman before him.

“Here’s your desk,” he said. She snapped out of the mesmerizing daze his eyes had held her in for the past few minutes and walked over to her desk.

She checked her watch and groaned as she noticed that there was two hours to go for lunch. She looked at the unruly stacks of parchment littering the desk and decided to clean them up. She organised the parchment into two neat piles. Once Lucius was satisfied that she could use her own initiative he strode over to his own desk and sorted through the mail.

He put the ones to answer in one pile, the ones to ignore in the wastepaper basket and the ones to think about in another pile. He then sat down and started opening the urgent ones. He had to give her something to do soon. He read the first three letters without looking at his new companion. After the fourth one he began to sneak surreptitious glances over her way.

Hermione had organised her desk to her satisfaction filling empty inkpots and sharpening her quills. Lucius decided she needed to get out of his sight. She was tempting him already. He felt cold hearted. Narcissa and Draco were dead only six months previously; it seemed tasteless to start thinking about looking for a new wife. And this girl was still at school for crying out loud! He felt that Miss Granger would agree with him on this.

Lucius had not let himself cry over the deaths of his wife and son; why should he? Tears would not bring them back, so what was the point?

He looked at what she was wearing with distaste showing on his features. He decided that the muggle outfit would not do. She was working for a pure bred wizard.

“Miss Granger,” he said. She turned around and swung her legs to the side of the chair so that she could face him. His eyes hooded over at the sight of her young developing limbs.

“Yes, sir?” she asked.

“I suggest that you finish work at least two hours earlier so that you can get some robes,” she opened her mouth but he raised his hand as a gesture to silence her. “Money doesn’t have to be a problem, that outfit, however, is.”

Hermione looked down and frowned figuring out what could be wrong with an outfit her own mother would wear when Lucius sighed. She snapped her head back up.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s muggle,” he said. “You are a Witch, Miss Granger, I think it’s about time you started dressing like one. Go to Madam Malkin’s and charge it to my account.”

Hermione managed to stop herself from blinking in shock.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”

“Yes,” he replied. “I’d like a cup of Irish coffee. You know how to make one of those don’t you?”

“My Irish grandmother taught me it when I was six years old,” she said. Lucius smiled. Hermione got up and Lucius gestured towards a door, Hermione opened the door and walked into the room. She saw a cauldron with hot water already in there. She found the coffee and put in a level scoopful in the coffee pot and ladled some water in and placed the plunger around the rim. She found a nice china cup and some whiskey and cream. She pressed the plunger down and poured the coffee for him and then poured a capful of whiskey and placed some whipped cream on top. She found a silver teaspoon and came back into the office and placed it on Lucius desk.

Lucius caught a whiff of her perfume as she leant over and closed his eyes as he inhaled it. He was trying to reform himself. The old Lucius would think nothing of toying with her affections; but he was a new Lucius. Supposedly in control and – he shuddered – nice.

“Anything else, sir?” Hermione asked. Lucius tried to count to ten in his head.

“That will be all,” he said. Then he noticed she didn’t make herself one. “You know, Miss Granger, when I have a cup of coffee you can make yourself one if you want one to, you know.”

Hermione smiled. She went back to the room and just made herself a cup of ordinary coffee. She went back to her desk and looked at the stack of letters on the desk. Lucius saw her rifle through them and then she turned.

“I would like you to write a reply to each of those letters using your own words. I will look through each of your reply’s and correct them.”

Hermione smiled and resisted the urge to clap her hands happily at such responsibility. She dipped her quill in the ink and picked up her first sheet of parchment. She read through the letter and frowned thoughtfully. Lucius watched her every move. She looked adorable when her brow was creased at the centre and her eyes in contemplation.

She wrote the first three replies in peace and quiet. The perfect secretary, Lucius thought. The absolute perfect secretary, she was not full of questions although; he could see her begin a question several times. She had opened her mouth; he could hear her hitching her breath in her throat in preparation to talk, and then saw her shoulders deflating as the unspoken question never made its way out of her lips.

“Lunch time, Miss Granger, I suggest you be back here five minutes before the hour is up.”

Hermione turned to Lucius and nodded. She tidied up her desk and got up. She took her purse out of her pockets and checked the amount of money she had in there.

“Good,” she sighed. “It’s enough for today.”

Lucius would pay her at the end of each day. She would have to have money to have lunch here. He did not wish to see his secretary bringing sandwiches in a tin foil wrap.

Hermione went to the cafeteria and walked up to the food counter. Harry and Ron were already there. Harry waved her over to their table and Hermione bounced over to them holding the tray. She set it down on the table and sidled next to Harry.

“So,” Harry said, “who is your boss?”

“Lucius Malfoy,” Hermione answered promptly. Harry choked on his sausage. Hermione rolled her eyes and thumped him on his back. Once Harry had recovered she said: “He has been really gentlemanly; and kind, and he’s even paying me daily.”

Ron narrowed his eyes at her. “It sounds like you like the git.”

“That git has just lost his wife and son. Might I remind you two that Draco was tortured to the point of insanity by his own Aunt, and then murdered brutally by that despotic moron? Might I remind you that Narcissa; his mother; had to stand and watch the ceremony and died that night of a broken heart. I’ve just spent the whole morning in a room on my own with him and he hasn’t said or done anything nasty at all.

In fact Harry, he agrees with your assessment of You-Know-Who. He’s shown me around and he’s even prepared to buy me some work robes. He’s not nice, and he never will be but he’s different from the man we met before our second year.”

“This is the girl that still trusts Snape,” Harry said.

“I DO still trust Snape, Harry,” Hermione said. “Anyway, how’s your mornings been.”

“Mine’s been great,” Ron said. “Dad is such a cool person to work for.”

Hermione reserved her judgement. Harry turned around and looked at Hermione.

“Kingsley’s a real taskmaster,” he said. “I might not feel like going to the cinema tonight, Hermione.”

“Oh,” Ron said disappointed. “I was looking forward to that.”

Hermione shook her head. She ate her lunch in silence. She felt she had been spoilt. When she found out it was him she almost screamed but he was actually all right. He was a businessman at the end of the day. And she believed that he was a changed man.

“Why is he going to buy you robes?” Harry asked.

“Because he says I am a witch and should dress like one,” Hermione said.

“Lucius Malfoy allows you to be a witch?” Ron scoffed.

“Yes,” she replied.

“I don’t believe it,” he replied.

“I don’t think he noticed that I noticed; but he was blushing when he looked at my legs. I think that was the main problem.”

Hermione giggled at the thought of being eyed up by a very intelligent much older man; it boosted her confidence somehow, and made her feel pretty. Harry peered at Hermione and noticed that the morning with Lucius Malfoy had given some light to Hermione’s eyes and cheeks that he didn’t like.

“He looked at your legs?” Ron asked in a demanding voice.

“Yes,” Hermione replied shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve got them you know.”

“You should be disgusted,” Ron said. His ears turned pink.

“Hmm, well, at least I haven’t snogged him in front of everybody!”

“I keep telling you, Mione, that I didn’t mean it.”

“For the last time, Ronald, my name is Hermione. Not all of us feel the need to shorten our names,” Hermione said. She finished her lunch and got up.

“Where are you going?” Harry asked.

“I am going to the foyer,” she said. “And I wish not to be followed.”

Hermione had walked down to the foyer to look at the fountain statue. She sighed and she felt the presence of someone behind her.

“I told you not to follow me, Harry!”

“I think you should turn around, Miss Granger,” she did and groaned.

“Sorry, sir, I just wanted to look at this beautiful statue,” she said. “There’s nothing like this in the Muggle world.”

Lucius looked up at the statue, a thing he had taken for granted for most of his working life. She turned around and he saw her wipe a tear or two away from her eyes.

“My grandmother used to say to me whenever I was depressed that a thing of beauty is a joy forever.”

“So it is,” Lucius breathed. He had two beautiful things in his life but he didn’t feel joyous at knowing them at this moment in time. “Miss Granger, I suggest that you leave at 2:30pm. I owled Madam Malkin to expect you, and I’ll walk you to the apparition point.”

“Thank you, Mr Malfoy,” Hermione said.

“We best head back to the office, once there I will read through your replies, and show you where you’ve gone right or gone wrong.”

“Mr Malfoy,” Hermione began, “if I do a good job will you be a reference for me?”

“If you do a good job, Miss Granger, I might not let you return to Hogwarts,” he answered. Hermione stopped and stared at him. He realised that she had stopped walking and turned to look at her. He saw the bright look in her eyes. “How do you feel about that?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully.

He smirked and he strode ahead of her waiting for her to catch up. She caught up and was soon by his side again. He had stopped a few times to talk to associates. His eyes widened when he spotted someone and he stepped into the shadows and grabbed her hand and pulled her to him.

“What the...?”

“Umbridge,” he snarled.

“I thought that you two were friends,” she whispered.

“I try not to talk to her as much as I possibly can,” he said. “She’s vile!”

Hermione stifled a giggle. He snaked an arm around her waist and held her fast against his chest. Hermione could hear his heart thumping and she felt the rise and fall of his chest with his steady breathing and his breath fell on the nape of her neck making her shiver. She felt safe in his arms.

“Why are you hiding me?” she asked. “I know how to handle the pink toad.”

Lucius chuckled and it vibrated through her body. She liked the feel of it playing through her body.

“Yes, I heard all about that little game,” he murmured, he leant his head down, “I was impressed.”

Hermione sighed as she felt his lip graze against her earlobe.

“I want to tackle her,” she murmured. She turned her head around and their lips clashed against each other.

Umbridge had passed and Lucius reluctantly let her go. He stepped out of the shadow and Hermione followed; she felt as if she had been hit with the jelly legs curse, as she could not steady herself. Her lips were pulsing with the touch of Lucius Malfoy’s velvet lips on hers.

They were back in the office and he was standing behind his seat. She walked down towards the chair opposite his and sat on it. He stepped elegantly around the chair and Hermione sighed inwardly at the grace he was showing. He was so different from all the other men she knew. She liked that.

He sat down and looked down at the desk; he picked up the pile of her replies. He began the tedious task of reading the first letter. He pointed out what she had done right and the few mistakes she had made. He was impressed over all. Hermione preened herself under his praise; she treacherously thought what he would be like as Potions Master. Snape could learn a thing or two from him.

“And that’s it,” Lucius said, “six replies. As these are not urgent I think we can leave them to morning. It’s time for you to get your wardrobe.”

“What if I take them home with me?” Hermione asked.

“No,” he replied. “As long as they are top priority tomorrow morning it doesn’t matter.”

Hermione nodded. She walked to her desk and grabbed a sheet of parchment. She wrote in thick black writing:

TO DO LIST

Lucius leant over her shoulder and chuckled again, he liked this already. Hermione wished he wouldn’t chuckle next to her, doesn’t he realise she’s only human?

“I will be prepared to pay for nine work robes and two dress robes, as my secretary you are to be expected to attend my private functions. I am holding one on Saturday.”

Hermione gulped. She had plans for Saturday... oh well; she hoped her mother would understand.

He took her out of the Ministry and walked her to the apparition point. It was an alley between a second hand bookshop and a Debenhams store.

“See you tomorrow morning, sir, at half-eight,” she said.

“I think I should come with you,” he said. “I have spent time away from work before.”

“People will think...”

“Let them, we know we’re innocent.”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. She could not argue with that one. He stepped next to her and apparated with her outside Leaky Cauldron. They walked into the pub and walked through to the back of it. Lucius used his snake cane on the bricks to get into Diagon Alley.

Lucius left her standing outside Madam Malkin’s and Hermione walked into the shop and told the elderly woman exactly what she needed and why. Madam Malkin’s eyes lit up at the payer’s name.

Lucius was back with a pouch full of money. He walked into the shop. Hermione was looking at all the utilitarian colours: black, navy, and greys. Hermione had looked at the robes he knew she would. He decided to advise her.

“How old are you?” he asked.

“Eighteen,” she replied.

“Going on, what? Forty?” Lucius asked. “You might be at work but you can still look good. Most people who end up together in the Wizarding world meet in the workplace. I suggest you go with some lighter, less severe, colours. We don’t want people thinking you’re related to Snape.”

Hermione smiled shyly. He was disparaging the previous times he had met her, but now he was – was...

“How about this colour?” Madam Malkin suggested. She brought out some blues.

Lucius smiled. “That’s more like it.”

They had stayed in the shop for hours getting her fitted up. Lucius was looking at a fabric for some dress robes. Those were going to be a surprise. He didn’t know what was happening to him but he found himself finding joy again. He didn’t mind admitting it; he was lonely. He craved company. Hermione Granger might end up being more than his secretary if she played her cards right.

A/N - I started this one now because I am near the end of Hidden Meanings and the Lucius Muse came to me last night and told me to write this little baby down! I hope no one see's any similiarities with their stories as I try very hard to be original - even if it is another persons characters we're using... sorry in advance if I have unintentionally copied another persons idea!