Second Time Around

Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!


Hermione groaned at the sound of the alarm she had set. Her hand skittered over the surface of the nightstand and finally came to rest on the cheap alarm clock. She clicked it off and thought for a few moments of going back to sleep, but she knew better. She wasn’t looking forward to the day, but it had to be done. It’s the first day of the rest of your life, she reminded herself. She let out a soft humph! when Crookshanks jumped onto her belly and began digging his paws into the blanket, purring. She smiled and scratched the top of his squashed head. She stayed there for a moment, allowing the rhythm of his purr’s to settle her mind before plucking him off and placing him on the floor. She padded across the rough carpet and flicked on the blinding light of the bathroom. She would definitely miss the luxury of lighting the room slowly like her bathroom at…well…her used to be home.

Hermione took a shower and readied herself for the day, using the little makeup she had on-hand to cover the large bruise and black eye from last night. She still had a bump on her head as well from the railing. Hermione contemplated just calling in but that little girl needed her. She could make up an excuse, no one need know or care. Besides, it wasn’t that obvious. Was it?

She decided to keep her hair down to mask what she could. Nothing would work, but she didn’t know any charms to rid herself of it having never bothered herself with silly cosmetic charms like Lavender and Parvati used to practice in the dorm room they’d shared.

Resigned, she packed up her things with a flick of her wand and grabbed the room key. She left Crookshanks food and flipped the tag hanging on her doorknob to “Do Not Disturb” in hopes they would never know she had a cat in there. She was paid through the rest of the week so they better not care too much.

Now, on top of everything else she was going to have to go apartment hunting, something she’d thought she’d never have to do again. So while waiting for the bus that would take her to the phone booth to the Ministry, she bought a paper with ads in them and started circling ones in her price range.

When she finally made it to the phone booth with minutes to spare, she raced out of it and hurried through the throng of people, intending on getting to her office before eight and she only had three minutes.

“In a rush?” a voice drawled behind her. She turned to Malfoy whose smirk fell as soon as she did. She quickly realized her mistake and positioned her hair but he wasn’t to be deterred. He moved her hair back from her face and his own hardened into stone. He grabbed her upper arm as if to steer her away but she cried out as pain sliced through her. He looked at her incredulously and tugged her jacket down her arm enough to see the hand shaped bruise left there by Ron. He swore loudly and pulled her jacket back up before placing a hand on her lower back and urging her into an elevator. Hermione went with him silently, more embarrassed than she’d ever been in her life. They didn’t speak because of the other people in the small box but when he pulled her out on his floor she started to protest.

“I’ll send an owl to your office,” he growled then snapped at his secretary to hold his messages and to cancel his morning meetings.

“Malfoy, really, don’t do all that. It’s nothing, really-,”

“This is nothing? I thought you said he didn’t hit you!”

“He didn’t! Not until last night! It was an accident, he didn’t mean-,”

“Granger, something like that is not an accident! You don’t just ‘accidently’ backhand a woman!” he raged, throwing things about on his desk. Hermione clutched her briefcase nervously.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice shaking. He said nothing but found the papers he was looking for and grabbed a quill and ink so violently he nearly shattered the glass. He wrote furiously while she stood by the door, too nervous and embarrassed to speak. What had she gotten herself into? What had her life turned into?

When he finished he threw the papers at poor Gretchen, barking at her to get them sent off at once before pushing Hermione into a chair. He knelt in front of her pulling her hair back once more as if to assess the damage. He looked angry enough to kill.

Then he pulled off her jacket gently, trailing his fingers softly over the raised, bruised skin, Ron’s finger marks clearly evident. If she had known she’d had that bruise she would have worn a long sleeved shirt, but she must have passed it over this morning in the shower.

“What happened?” he asked lowly.

“It doesn’t matter…we had a row…it’s not a big deal,” she said, tugging her jacket back on.

“It is a big deal. I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”

Her heart clenched at the idea of having to relive it. She shuddered and shook her head. “I can’t. I’m sorry-,”

“It’s okay, that’s alright. You don’t have to do anything that will make you uncomfortable. Fucking Merlin, I’ll kill that bastard! You should have stayed with me last night, I knew something like this would happen…”

“How could you possibly have known? I didn’t even see it coming! That’s why I didn’t defend myself. It was just so sudden, I never thought…”

“Hermione, I’ve seen hundreds of cases like this and they almost always end the same! I let my biased judgment get the best of me, but not again. You’re to stay at Weston House and I want someone with you twenty-four/seven. If he gets even close to you, looks at you or tries to contact you in any way I want to know. I’ll pick you up for lunch breaks and you can owl me when you’re ready to leave work-,”

“Malfoy, stop. No, I’m not doing this, I can’t. I can’t live in constant fear. No, it’s not necessary. He won’t do it again. I’ll let you know if he contacts me but I’m not going to have a bodyguard for goodness sake! I have my wand, I won’t leave anywhere without it. I can take care of myself. I thank you for your concern, really, but he isn’t dangerous. Things just got a little out of hand last night-,”

“And if they get out of hand again, what will happen then, hmm? Do you think he’ll stop at one hit? Maybe try two? Or will he beat the living shit out of you?”

“He wouldn’t do that!” she protested. “He’s not like that! He may be a right git-,”

“Are you even listening to yourself? You are defending his actions! Unless you like it when he hits you? Maybe you even get off a little on it?”

“You’re sick,” she said, disgusted.

“And so are you for trying to eradicate his actions like it was nothing! This,” he yelled, pointing to her sore face. “Is not nothing!”

“I know!” she cried, surprised when it came out as a sob. She clasped her hands to her mouth to hold back another but it came anyway, along with the tears she had thought herself divested of last night. She cried into her locked hands and took the comforting warmth of Malfoy when he took her up in his arms, pulling her off the chair and onto the floor where she curled into his comfort, not caring about the impropriety, not caring that there would be consequences to these actions or that someone might come in and get the wrong idea. She didn’t care about anything except that she was in pain and needed him, his strong arms, his concern. He was on her side.

He muttered nonsense words and stroked her hair while she cried nearly as hard as last night. She couldn’t stop. She thought over every charming word from Ron, how sweet he had been, how kind and caring and protective. She thought about how he had always made her laugh, thought about the little sacrifices he’d made to make her happy. And then she thought about the monster he’d become, the anger on his face as he’d struck her, all the nights he’d stumbled in smelling of alcohol and sex, all the night’s she’d been summoned to the bars with an angry owl because he was causing problems. She thought of the owls she’d gotten from him saying “I’ll be late…”, the excuses he’d made when she’d wanted to have sex, the blank look in his eyes as he’d ridden her…the fact that she hadn’t had sex in nearly six months…

When the tears slowed she realized that she was sitting on an office floor in the arms of Draco Malfoy blubbering like an idiot. When she moved to release herself he held tight and her mind raced. Oh gods, what if she’d given him the wrong impression? What if he thought…?

“Just relax for a minute, will you? Turn off that brain of yours. I’m not going to do anything untoward, I promise.”

She took a deep breath and attempted to do as he said.

“How many times has this happened to you?” she asked.

“A fair few.”

“I suppose you have women just throwing themselves at you.”

He laughed but said nothing. She figured it was true. He was incredibly handsome, far out of her league. Disappointment filled her as she realized this and the fact that probably every woman who had come through his doors had used him for a handkerchief, just as she was doing now and he was doing no more or less than he would for any of them.

So why should she feel disappointed? She should feel relieved! But she sort of liked the fact that he was being so sweet and caring…she supposed he did this with everyone. That’s what made him a good lawyer.

She finally pulled away from his grasp and took the swatch of fabric he handed her to mop up her face. She worked carefully on her right side which was still very, very sore. And swollen. Great, she probably looked a right mess.

“Why don’t you take the day?” Malfoy suggested as he got to his feet and reached down to help her to her own.

“What? No, no I couldn’t possibly…I took yesterday…”

“Yesterday was your day off and you still worked, remember?”

“How did you know yesterday was my day off?” she asked suspiciously.

“I’m a lawyer, I investigate. It’s my job. And my sources tell me you have accumulated four months worth of vacation and have not taken a day off in a year and a half, the last time was to go to a match of Ron’s against England and he yelled at you for being there without telling him.”

“Where are you getting your sources?” she breathed exasperatedly. She hadn’t told anyone about that game, no one knew why she never went to his matches anymore.

“That is for me to know and you to not worry about. Now, take the day off and go back to Weston-,”

“Really, Malfoy, thank you…for everything. It’s not necessary. I’ll be fine. Are we still on for tonight?”

He looked at her for a long time before giving her a curt nod. “Of course. I’ll walk you back to your office.”

“Malfoy that’s not-,”

“I know it isn’t, but allow me to do it anyway. I have some free time on my hands and could use a walk.”

So she allowed him to walk her back to her office and he spoke in low tones to her boss which made her cheeks flame with embarrassment. She didn’t want anyone to know, least of all her superior. But Bryce merely nodded to her and she went inside her office where she sank down on her chair and dropped her head into her hands. What a mess.

A knock sounded on the door. “Mrs. Weas-er-Miss…?”

“Granger,” she told Bryce as he stepped awkwardly into the small excuse for an office. Their department was so packed now that even Bryce’s office was miniscule.

“Right, Granger. Er, are you alright? Do you need anything? You know, you’re more than welcome to take a few days off…a week even, maybe two. I would understand…”

She smiled at the man, a decade her senior and stuttering over her feelings when she knew he could take out an ex-Death Eater in 14.9 seconds. She’d timed it.

“I’m fine, Bryce, really. I’m just going to get caught up on some of this paperwork and then I will get right to work on the Loretta Britter case.”

“You didn’t hear? Smith found her yesterday. Apparently she’d tried to Side-Along aparate with her unknowing father and dropped off halfway through in Bosnia. Some warlock found her riding his son’s toy broom in his backyard and owled the Ministry.”

“Oh. Well that’s, that’s great news,” she said. She was happy that the little girl was home safe but felt guilty that she’d taken no part in her recovery.

“Hermione,” Bryce said, sounding much more like himself. “You did all the background work. It’s alright to let someone help out a little sometimes. What have I always told you?”

“There’s no ‘Hermione’ in ‘team’,” she repeated with a smile. “Alright, I got it. Now get out of my office and let me work!”

He grinned at her and left Hermione to her papers. She dug through her briefcase and found the folder she was looking for and got to work.


==============================================


Draco stormed into Gerald R. Wright’s office and slammed a folder onto his desk. The older man jumped and looked up.

“I have a pusher. We need to get this through immediately.”

“A pusher? For what?”

“A divorce. It’ll take you no time at all. Just sign it and send it to the Wizengamot so we can get this over with.”

“A divorce? Draco, that’s the last thing on my mind right now. Do you know how deep my ass is right now? I’m up to my fucking eyes is so-called ‘pushers’ and criminal cases, I can’t justifiably put a divorce settlement ahead of the rest. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to go through the works.”

“Gerald, this case needs to be pushed.”

“On what grounds?” he sighed exasperatedly as he leaned back in his chair, hands linking behind his head.

“It’s turned physical. She came to me for a divorce and we settled on a premise and the next day she comes into the office with a black eye and bruises on her person. He’s tried contacting her and I don’t want to wait and see what happens if he finds her again.”

His superior looked at him long and hard, finally letting the air out through his nose and sitting back up.

“Draco, do you honestly think she is in physical danger of this man?”

He ignored the protest Hermione had delivered that morning. “I do.”

He scrubbed his face and flipped through some files on his desk. “Alright. I can’t promise it will be today but leave it with me and I’ll make sure we have a court date by the end of the week.”

“Knew I could count on you,” Draco smirked.

“You know I’m only doing this because you’re my best man.”

“I know,” he grinned.

“You owe me.”

“Lunch at Waterbrook on me. Pick a day.”

Gerald chuckled. “My diet right down the pisser! Alright, how about Wednesday?”

“Wednesday it is,” Draco agreed, tapping his now empty folder on his desk before leaving. He was lucky Gerald had fit him in, he had caught him on a good day. He knew Hermione probably wasn’t in any more physical danger, mostly because he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, but he wanted this settled quickly. He didn’t need to give Weasley any more reasons to become violent.

His blood boiled when he thought about the bruises he’d seen, the way she had cowered in his office as he’d documented his findings. The way she’d cried uncontrollably in his arms. He’d always hated comforting women, but in Hermione’s case he’d wanted to give her the best he could. Once she had gotten into his arms, however, he hadn’t wanted to let her go. It was a minor problem. He was getting attached, he knew, too involved in this case. He couldn’t help it. Every time he thought about Weasley hitting Hermione he wanted to smash his freckled fucking face in. He hadn’t used an Unforgivable since the war but he wasn’t sure if he could restrain himself if he ran into the spineless bastard. What kind of a man could lower himself to hit a woman?

No matter how pissed he was about the occurrence and the fact that he hadn’t trusted his gut and forced her to stay with him, this was good for their case. Having two grounds would push the divorce through faster than one and since one of them put her in danger, they were golden. If you knew the right people. Which he did. His prestige was finally paying off. He was finally in the position to give back to Hermione what she gave him.

His life.

She’d saved his ass when there was no reason for her too. He’d been rotten to the bitter end, only coming around after the war was over in fear of the consequences that were to be bestowed upon him. But she’d been there, she’d stood up for him. He’d never given her a reason to and yet she’d done it anyway. He would never forget the way she’d looked, flouncing around the court room, her bushy hair frazzled, her cheeks pink as she spouted things he’d never heard before. She’d been beautiful after the month he’d spent in hell. She’d been his savior, his guardian angel when he’d had no one to turn to. She’d never given him the chance to ask why and he never tried to seek her out, not wanting to mar her life with the likes of him. But from that day on he knew there was purpose, there was reason to live. One day he would show her, show all of them, that he had been worth the effort to save, he would make a difference to someone, somewhere. And he liked to think he did, a little. Hermione’s talent in the court room, even having no proper training whatsoever, had drawn to him. That’s what he could do, he could give people the second chance he was given and someday, he would repay Hermione Granger. Today was that day. Nearly eight years later, he could finally pay her back.

His step lighter, he checked his watch and dove into an elevator. It was time for lunch.

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XOXO

RynStar15