Nothing Like You and I

Harlot – Luck you! You are the first to review and I must say that I feel totally honored! I am a facker who reads and doesn’t review – although I have been doing more of it recently. So don’t worry! As long as you enjoy my stories I don’t mind.

SomewhatGlutinous - I know right! I don’t even remember where it came from it just popped into my head and I was like “I gotta write a story on it!”

RynStar15 – Ah but that is the question. IS Draco really dead? If so, why can’t any one else see him? Hmmmm. Hahaha.

Songs:
*Ministry of Magic*
Kooks – She Moves in Her Own Way
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m6-QM0_Prp0

*Mummy Dearest*
Coldplay – Don’t Panic
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4w7an00vGI

*Jealous? No!*
James Yuill – No Surprise
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3l0p1d01P9s

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Ministry of Magic

The Ministry of Magic had changed over the last five years. With Kingsley Shacklebolt as the Minister of Magic there literally was no room for corruption. All laws that once appealed to purebloods had been demolished and new ones erected to allow students of half-breed, including werewolves, to attend school without prejudice. It was a monumental moment for Remus Lupin and the entire Weasley clan celebrated for weeks after Moony’s Law passed.

House-elves were given more rights then even they wanted – although some had gotten together and created S.O.C.K.S. where Dobby headed the organization during his half a day off at Hogwarts. Hogwarts was top school in the world and created more capable wizards every year. Headmaster Snape ensured every child was treated equally, even if he scared the entire student body and half of the staff. Seamus had become the Charms professor, which was weird because he still – to this day – constantly blew his eyebrows up. The wizarding world was now ideal and the picture of a place any parents would love to have their child grow up in.

No longer was a dull greenish color, the Ministry was bright with marble floors and glass walls that let the sun and unknown light penetrate. Large masses of flying paper airplanes soared high into the building before swooping low and distributing across the various offices – some even went into the elevator to go lower. Tall white pillars were erected in the center of the Ministry, spiraling to the ceiling where it was enchanted to show the outside sky, including warm breezes and – at the most inconvenient times – rain showers and snow. This was one reason why Hermione was always prepared. As soon as she stepped out of the large hearth at the entrance of the Ministry, she pulled a large black umbrella from her enchanted pockets and opened it. Walking out into the now raining entry hall, Hermione took a breath of the sweet icy air.

Few people ducked and dodged the rain, their wands held out to cast drying charms – but Hermione always enjoyed utilizing Muggle technology. She liked walking in the rain under her umbrella. Of course, as she passed several offices, she saw Luna Lovegood twirling under the drops with her arms out. A few people, namely her coworkers and underlings, sat by the windows and watched as the dirty blond laughed. Little dancing creatures surrounded her, which turned out to be her beloved Nargles – who were once nearly extinct until she discovered them at the bottom of Nimue’s Hill. There had been acts created to help discover new creatures – which Luna originally wanted to head but settled with her current occupation. Her cloudy blue eyes met Hermione’s for a second and both nodded to one another.

Hermione pulled her umbrella down when she entered the elevator and stood between a tall skinny bloke and a cheeky woman who reminded her of a bulldog. The elevator shot downward, sending everyone’s hair floating upward before abruptly stopping. Hermione managed to pin her hair down before it shot downward again and again until she reached her department. The Department of Mysteries. The door slid open and she stepped out, shaking her umbrella of access water. The halls were still black marble and very – creepy – dark. A few people walked out of the walls and into another, which turned out to be hidden doors.

They would emerge on other sides of the hallway which reminded Hermione of the old days where she watched American cartoons like Scooby Doo. The ‘gang’ would run through a series of doors and appear in a completely different door, with a few added people or monsters. This was exactly how it was pictured, with the exception nothing was chasing people and they didn’t seem to notice or care. She walked down the hall, bumping into a few people who had stuck their noses into their parchment and forgot to look where they were going.

“Good morning, Ms. Granger,” one man said after he nodded to her and disappeared into a door.

“Good morning, Ms. Granger. It is a lovely day!” A woman chirped as she stepped out of that same door and walked diagonally to another before disappearing into it.

Hermione said her good mornings and walked a little further down the hall until she came upon a large black door that was labeled Hermione J. Granger – Assistant Director to the Department of Ministries The door creaked open as soon as she stepped in front of it and the fireplace roared with heat. She gave her umbrella another shake and hung it up on a tall spiraling coat rack. Prying her traveling cloak off, Hermione covered her umbrella and brought her hands to her hair – tying it into a pony tail.

“You’re late,” came a voice from an adjacent office.

Hermione turned and glanced at the figure before walking to her large mahogany desk. “No I’m not. I’m here on time like every day.”

“It’s 8:59, you should have been here at 8:58.” He drawled, crossing his arms firmly across his chest.

“It’s not 8:59, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione frowned, “I’m here on time everyday.”

“If that’s what you think,” Lucius said, closing the door to his office. “We have things to discuss, Ms. Granger.”

“Ah yes,” Hermione nodded, pulling out several folders from her desk, “I have the files on Angus Rookwood, Rodney Spugen, and Carla Sinclaire.”

Hermione unfolded the files from more files, and pulled those files out of more files before handing it to Lucius. He glanced down at it and tossed them onto the table.

“That’s not what I was thinking,” he said quietly, rounding her desk as Hermione frowned at the files.

When she looked up, Lucius was standing abnormally close to her, his fingers entangled in one of her curly locks. She moved from him with a single step and grasped onto her wand in her pocket.

“What were you thinking then?” She asked in a brave voice, which faltered slightly when she posed the question.

“Nimue’s Hill,” Lucius merely said watching her lock slip from his finger, “There will be a team heading there today to see how far we can probe the darkness.”

Hermione snorted, “We’ve tried that already and get nothing.”

“I have specialized people working on it,” Lucius drawled, flipping through files on Hermione’s desk, “You will be dispatched there immediately.”

“What?” Her jaw dropped, she had been trying to get him to let her go out into the field for years and each time he would cast her aside for some other old man who claimed to know what he was doing.

It was obvious what Lucius was trying to do. He wanted to find Draco’s body – bring it back and give it a proper burial. He had told her that once during a drunken stupor she found him in after hours that he wouldn’t rest until they recovered Draco. The poor man had resulted to purging his feelings of guilt through bottles of firewhiskey. She had felt bad for him once, it was always hard to lose one’s family but he was bloody Lucius Malfoy in the end.

“Did I stutter?” Lucius asked with a quirked eyebrow, “Get your things together. Whatever you think you might need.”

“Yes…yes sir,” Hermione mumbled dumbfounded as Lucius stalked out of the room without so much as uttering a syllable.

She stared at her desk for what seemed ages, trying to calm her beating heart. She was returning to Nimue’s Hill after five long years. Where was Draco when you needed him?

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Mummy Dearest

Draco sat in an empty chair beside his mother, Narcissa, and her childhood friend Madam Boride. Madam Boride was unmarried and the size of a small flat. Ok, a little exaggeration. She had her hair piled high in sausage curls of platinum blond and wore far too much make-up for her own good. Draco often wondered what was under the inch thick layer of foundation and why she just didn’t use glamour charms instead. He then remembered why she was so rich – she invented Liquid Glamour which was used by almost every living witch in the world – save Hermione.

Why that curly-haired know-it-all didn’t invest in just a tad bit of make-up was beyond him. Then again, she didn’t really need make-up to make her look pretty; she just needed to spend a little more time combing that massive bush she called hair and wearing clothes fit for her age and not that of a grandmother. Draco pursed his lips as he watched Boride bring a large piece of sausage to her crinkled lips and took a hearty bite out of it. If he wasn’t dead, he would have hurled all over the table when what she was doing to that poor piece of meat.

His mother didn’t seem to notice one bit. If she did she was doing an excellent job of ignoring it! Instead, the blond woman merely sipped at her tea – her cobalt eyes surveying the lavish establishment they were dining at. Rome was such a beautiful place, if you wanted to spend time in the countryside. Yack.

“How is your dear husband, ‘Cissa?” Boride asked, shoveling a spoonful of white mousse into her pasty mouth.

“As good as one would expect,” Narcissa replied solemnly, taking another sip, “I fear that he’s still not over Draco’s…”

She hiccupped when she tried to contain her own tears, causing Draco to look at his mother with worry. He wanted to reach out and tell her not to worry, not to cry over him – but then again he couldn’t touch anything.

“Mum, stop crying,” Draco said quietly, running his hand through her hair – which didn’t even move a single strand.

“I’m surprised he hasn’t taken to the bottle,” Boride said with much indifference, making Draco want to slam her fat head into the large cake that sat in the middle of the table. “And why have you not tried for another heir? He can’t be incompetent can he?”

“Lucius is a very strong individual,” Narcissa said, looking down into her cup of tea, “He blames himself for everything. How he raised Draco and how everything just crumpled around him. The idea of raising another child will make him feel as if he’s replacing his son – he’s still grieving.”

“How long must a parent grieve to get over the death of their child? It’s not like you can’t have any more!” Boride sniffed, chomping down on a piece of cake. ”Suppose it doesn’t help that that Granger girl works under him,”

“He blames her of course too. We all know why Draco decided to go against You-Know-Who to begin with,” Narcissa gave a small lopsided smile, “He may not have realized it but it was woman’s intuition.”

“Oh please,” Draco snorted, resting his elbows on the table, “You of all people shouldn’t assume things, mother.”

“She’s a Muggleborn, Narcissa!” Boride screeched, nearly inhaling her tea, “If you’re implying that my godson…”

“She does have a point,” Draco shrugged, looking to his mother, “Granger is one annoying bint and not worthy of Malfoy affection.”

“She may be a Muggleborn but she is very intelligent,” Narcissa placed her tea cup onto the saucer and looked to Boride, “I’m somewhat glad that she is working with Lucius. Maybe being around her will help ease his mind.”

Both Boride and Draco snorted, but Boride continued, “Yes because having the reason your son is dead flitting around you as if nothing happened sure does put one’s mind at ease. Honestly, ‘Cissa I think in your old age you’re becoming a little…”

Draco slammed his hands on the table, “How dare you speak to my mother like that you fat pompous cow! I should shove that sausage down your throat and make you choke!”

“Oh, looks like the wind has picked up, let’s go inside and I shall have Wallaby fetch us some reading material. I’ve been meaning to ask you about what you plan to do with your foyer.” Boride said, resting her hand on a pile of linens as the wind blew around them.

“That’d be lovely,” Narcissa replied, her eyes downcast as she rose, “We will be having our yearly memorial for Draco next weekend. I do hope you will attend.”

“Memorial? You speak as if your son is a god, ‘Cissa,” Boride said wobbling toward the door with the thin shallow woman behind her, “But I will attend. Got to keep the spirits up of everyone else around you. Especially since you no longer have an heir.”

Draco glared at the fat tub of lard as he rose from his seat. He followed after his mother, who stood a foot shorter than he did. Narcissa was uncharacteristically quiet since the death of Draco – whenever he visited her, she was in such a state that not even the house-elves could work up a fit to rouse her. Draco felt guilty for leaving his mother the way he did whenever he looked at her. She was, truly, an innocent party in this battlefield.

Stringing his arm around his mother, Draco sighed, “Don’t worry mum. Everything will be alright.”

She paused and seemed to look at him – causing Draco to inhaled quickly. Did she see him? Could she see him? Narcissa spun in a circle, moving completely through Draco.

“I thought…” Narcissa whispered, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth as Boride turned around.

“C’mon now my dear,” Boride ushered, waving at her, “Mustn’t catch the death of you. Imagine what Lucius would do if you were gone too.”

“Draco…” Narcissa whispered, causing Draco’s face to fall as she turned and entered the house.

It was times like these did he truly hate being dead, and not like those other ghosts. Hell, he’d give his right eye to be like the Fat Friar at Hogwarts. At least they could see and speak to him.

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Jealous? No!

The gust of wind came from nowhere and surrounded the entire camp at the top of Nimue’s Hill. Hermione Apparated within a few minutes of dispatchment and found herself drawn to the exact spot Draco had fallen from. The grass had grown long and tickled her ankles from under her long skirt. The overwhelming feeling of dread filled her body, causing her to shiver and wrap her arms around her shoulders. She stared out into the distance and then looked below into the dark swirling clouds beneath her. Draco’s body was somewhere in there, as was Voldemort – whom she hoped was rotting and had maggots eating his flesh.

“Granger!” A man named Humphrey called out, huffing up the hill. “We have the necessary equipment ready on your say.”

“Good,” Hermione whispered, turning to walk down the hill.

She felt something rush through her and stopped in her tracks. Her breath was stolen and she felt as if she had been dipped in ice water. Humphrey paused and turned around; frowning slightly.

“Ms. Granger?” He asked cautiously, extending a hand to her, “Are you alright?”

Hermione’s hand shot out and grasped his wrist, causing him to jump with shock. She brought her eyes to his and suddenly moved.

“I’m fine.” Hermione chattered, pulling her wand out to cash a warming charm on her clothing – something she should have done to begin with.

Hermione trudged down the hill beside Humphrey and paused when she came upon the group of wizards hired by the Ministry to research Nimue’s Hill. She had a feeling the Ministry wanted to ensure Voldemort was dead – although Harry’s scar didn’t burn once since his demise – but they had to be sure. Lucius handpicked every individual, including Draco’s former house mate Theodore Nott.

Nott sat on his heels at the base of the hill, overlooking a map. He was no longer the scrawny boy with mousy brown hair that resembled a rabbit. Rather he was tall, muscular in an athletic way, and had a mop of dirty brown hair that blew in the wind. When he turned and smiled at Hermione, she felt an instant blush creep across her face. Pristine white teeth that were set straight, a smile that would melt ice, and brilliant dark green eyes.

He rose and extended his hand, “Hermione, I haven’t seen you since…” he paused and cleared his throat, “In a long time.”

The last time she had seen him was the day of Draco’s funeral – although the Malfoys held a memorial for their son every year, Hermione never went neither did Draco…Ghost Draco. Theodore had comforted Narcissa Malfoy – who had draped herself over the white casket that held nothing but a memory of Draco. Not even Lucius moved to remove his wife but stood in front of it not uttering a word. He looked as if he had aged twenty years in that one day – although now he looked the same as he had when she was in school. Nott and Hermione didn’t speak after the funeral beyond the usual inquiring about what they planned to do.

Theodore was not involved in the final fight, although his father was. Instead, he traveled around the world and settled in Romania working alongside Charlie Weasley with dragons before trading that job in for research. He was unusually bright and stood right behind Draco during their classes – Hermione was always the best.

“It’s nice to see you too,” Hermione said with a curt nod, shaking his hand. They stared at each other for a moment before Humphrey cleared his throat. “Oh right.” Hermione jumped, “We’re going to start at the based of the cliff and work our way down, slowly.”

“Alright,” Theo nodded, waving his arm for other wizards to come up, “Go up to the cliff and measure out five meters marks. We’re going to do this slowly and correctly. No more screw-ups for the Ministry – alright?”

“Yes sir,” they answered in unison bowing lightly to Theo before carrying their equipment up the hill.

“Let me show you where we’re going to try and end today,” Hermione replied, turning to walk up the hill.

Theo followed her as they made their trek not saying a word. When Hermione took one step forward half way up the hill, her boot slipped and she nearly fell face first into the grass. Theo’s hands shot out and captured her in his arms, both falling onto their sides. Hermione looked to Theo, who looked back grinning, they both began laughing.

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione said brushing tears of laughter from the corners of her eyes as Theo helped her up.

“No worries,” He replied wrapping an arm around her shoulder, “I’ll give you an extra push when we get four thirds of a way up.”

Hermione didn’t bother trying to move from his grasp as they finished trekking up the hill. There they stood at one part and Hermione turned back to business. She laid out several plans to look thoroughly through each section, leaving nothing unturned. Theo nodded and looked as if he were mentally storing her instructions into his head – his forest green eyes trained on her face.

“…And I think then we will call it a day,” Hermione finished, turning to look at Theo – who was still looking at her.

“Ok,” Theo replied, clearing his throat as he motioned for his men to come to their direction.

“You didn’t even write any of that down, how do I know…”

“Photographic memory,” Theodore said, tapping his temples, “I remember everything.”

“Oh, right.” Hermione nodded as Theo brushed past her, turning to look at him – just as he turned to look at her and smirked. Hermione felt herself blush.

“Good Gods, Granger,” Draco’s annoying voice called her to look back at him.

“How in the world do you find me?” Hermione grumbled, pushing past Draco as she marched down the side of the cliff.

“I just think about where you are and poof I’m there,” Draco shrugged, following her, “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Research.” Hermione replied, “We’re going to fish through each section of the cliff. Hopefully we’ll find something.”

“And what were you doing playing googly eyes with Nott?” Draco inquired, coming to stand in front of her.

Hermione stopped and quirked an eyebrow, “Why? Jealous?”

“What? Me? Jealous of him?” Draco sputtered and scoffed, “Like I’d be jealous of some one who came in behind me at everything.”

“Right, then why are you giving him the stink eye?”

Hermione smirked when Draco stiffened and averted his eyes from Theodore’s back. “I wasn’t giving him the stink eye. I was squinting. Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Hermione shrugged as she stood at the edge of the cliff, “Do you think there’s a bottom to this thing?”

“Probably,” Draco said, coming up beside her, “Why don’t we push you in and see?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned when Theodore approached them, well her. He didn’t see Draco.

“Ok, we’re ready. I think the blokes are going to take a wee bit of a break – they’ve been setting stuff up all day.”

“That’s fine,” Hermione nodded, smiling at him, “You should take a break too. After all, you did give me that extra push up the hill.”

“Oh Merlin, are you flirting with him?” Draco growled, rolling his eyes, “He’s not going to fall for that poor attempt.”

“You’re light as a feather, Hermione.” Theo replied, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Hermione? Since when have you ever called her ‘Hermione?’ Bloody prat is only trying to get into your knickers with that sod,” Draco gaped, looking down at Hermione – who smiled.

“Well you should still take a break. We’ll regroup in say half an hour?” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest as Nott nodded.

“Yeah, sure.” He turned to walk back down the hill but stopped, “You coming?”

“No. I’m going to stay here for a bit and just think.”

“Rejected again, Nott!” Draco called over Hermione’s shoulder with a wide grin, “Wise move, Granger.”

“Shut up, Draco.” Hermione muttered as she turned around, “And you said you’re not jealous.”

Draco’s jaw dropped and he looked down at her, “You still think you’re worthy of my jealousy? Oh, lovely Granger. Down right lovely. Why don’t you go play with Nott then instead of staying up here with me? Hm?”

“You’re not making sense – which usually means I caught you in denial.” Hermione grinned, “Excuse me.”

“Wha –“ Draco gawked at Hermione and moved after her, “Listen if you think that I find you just a tad bit attractive you’re wrong. You’re still a know-it-all and a mudblood!”

“Mhm,” Hermione hummed, checking things at the site while Draco prattled on.

“I’m just trying to warn you about Nott. I lived with him, you don’t know him. Here goes my good deed for the day!”

“Stop rattling on and look to see if they measured everything right,” Hermione said, pointing in the direction of the first marker.

“Bloody. Bugger. Fucking.” Draco muttered, turning on his heel as he stepped in large strides across the field, counting in his head.

“Oi, Hermione?”

Hermione spun around and smiled, “Yes?”

Theodore held onto a stack of sandwiches in his hand and he looked pink in the face from having had run up the hill.

“Before I forget or find that I don’t have bollocks to ask,” Theo panted, trying to take in a few breaths, “Want to go to dinner with me, tomorrow night? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy. Or if you want it to be fancy it can be. Just…”

“Theo,” Hermione said lightly, smiling at him, “I’d love to.”

“Really?” Theo beamed at her, bringing a hand to his head where he mussed his hair up, “Wow, blimey. I was expecting you to…well you know since we weren’t really friends and…wow. So, I’ll pick you up at say…seven thirty?”

“Sure,” Hermione cupped her hands in front of her, grasping onto a clipboard, “I live in Easdale.”

“Easdale. Got it. I can do a locating spell when I get there.” Theodore smiled, “So, seven thirty?”

“Seven thirty.” Hermione confirmed as Theodore walked backward, smiling.

“Seven thirty.” He mumbled, turning to move back down the hill.

“What’s at seven thirty?” Draco asked as he came back, standing behind her.

“I have a date,” Hermione merely said, spinning around as she went to continue counting markers.

“You what!?” Draco sputtered, “What about…you have to find my body. You need to work not go prancing around with people.”

“Malfoy, it has been five years since I’ve been on a proper date and besides,” Hermione looked up from her clipboard, “I don’t work tomorrow.”

“If you think I’m just going to sit around waiting for you to…”

“I don’t expect you to be home, Draco. Even if you are it wouldn’t bother me.”

“You dirty little mudblood.”

“You slimly little ferret.”

They stared daggers at one another before Hermione turned and trudged back down the hill, grinning to herself.