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Chapter Text

The water flowed over the edge of the tub as she slowly emerged from her bath. Long, pale legs that were thin but muscular gracefully stepped over the edge while a manicured hand grabbed the nearby towel. With slow strokes the woman dried herself, completely lost in thought. Dropping the towel to the floor, she walked over to the master bedroom to which the bathroom belonged too.

She didn’t cover herself as she lived alone in the London house. It wasn’t very big but the way she decorated it and the materials that were used, made it feel grand. The detached house had a distinguished Victorian style and was located in one of the more quiet London suburbs. Real oak and marble made for a complex balance between warm and cold while the use of colours was kept to a minimum with a few decorative items in green.

The whole house breathed luxury as the taps and cutlery were real silver. The sofa and chairs covered in suede, although a pain in the ass to keep clean, felt like soft caresses against your skin. And last but not least, there was art that took your breath away. Sculptures and painting, all similar to match the house but still unique of their own.

The house itself consisted of a hallway with a staircase and a separate toilet. A double door led to the dining area with an open kitchen and a porch filled with plants and flowers. Immediately next to the dining room, was the living area with a fireplace and a small office. The upstairs held three bedrooms of which two shared a bathroom. The master bedroom had it’s own. The attic was not being used but still had an occupant. A majestic blonde barn owl slept the day away, gaining energy to hunt during the night.

The mistress of the house sat crossed legged and naked in front of her vanity while loosening her hair that she had pulled together in a bun to avoid it getting wet in the bath. Her almost black hair with platina blonde streaks fell sleek against her back, perfectly in place as always. Narcissa Black, once Lady Malfoy, looked at herself in the mirror and sighed.

Although everybody would agree that she was still a very beautiful woman, the years had definitely left their marks. There were small wrinkles around her eyes and mouth and despite people disagreeing with her, she was convinced that there were grey hairs hiding between the blondes. Her breasts weren’t as perky as they used to be and there was an ache in her joints on rainy days that she found harder to ignore by the years. But above all, there was a pain in her eyes that aged her. An undeniable proof of her past and the things she’d been through.  Hidden behind a stoic expression but visible for those who paid attention.

Humming to herself she grabbed a pencil and drew a meticulous line above her eyelashes. Her fingers, skilled from years of practice, quickly finished the task and grabbed the dark reddish lipstick next. She pushed her lips into a pout and painted her lips without faltering. She smacked them once before returning the lipstick to the vanity and sighing once more.

Normally she had no problems going to work in the morning, but today was a difficult day. It has been two years since she divorced Lucius and saw him running off with a younger, French version of herself. They sold Malfoy Manor and split the money, agreeing on never contacting each other again. Draco tried to keep contact with his father at first but noticed rather soon that his efforts were not reciprocated.

Her son had lived with her in the Victorian house for a short while before deciding that Astoria was the woman he wanted to grow old with and moving out to start a family of his own. They visited her quite often but it wasn’t enough to drive the loneliness out of the house. All the grandeur, all the luxury, it could not fill the longing that had settled in Narcissa’s chest. The longing for a friend.

It was a particularly hard day today because it reminded her of the fact that after two years, she still had a long way to go in earning her forgiveness from the Wizarding community. Not a week could go by without someone snarling at her or muttering an insult as they passed her. She had made progress of course. Two years ago, she couldn’t go outside without being chased by an angry mob.

Atonement. It was her cross to bear. She had kept her freedom but still she always felt like she was a prisoner. Held hostage by a cage she herself created from years and years of allowing injustice without blinking an eye. Atonement. The word weighed heavy on her shoulders for today, the anniversary of the start of her new life, reminded her of how much people loathed her and all she wanted was to be loved again.

Startled from her own pained expression in the mirror, Narcissa conjured her famous ice queen arrogance back on her face and reached for the jewels. Her earring were ridiculously expensive emeralds that had a matching necklace but she decided not to wear it today. Graciously she stood up and walked to her dressing, hips swaying as she moved. Elegance had always come naturally to her.

For years she believed it was because of her *pure blood*. She knew better now but it still pained her when she realized how brainwashed she was. How brainwashed they all were. From the day she was born, she was led to believe that she was better than others. Smarter, richer, more powerful and with a legitimate claim to magic others didn’t have. She shuddered at the realization of all the blood that was spilled for this horrible cause. Innocent blood and most of all, talented blood whether it’d be pure or not.

Although the Ministry would claim victory in her change of mindset, they had nothing to do with it. Their so called “reintegration” program was utter nonsense. For hours she had to listen to a senile man nuzzling about magical creatures and muggles weren’t inferior but rather allies in the survival of wizards and witches. No, it was only until recently when she had applied for a job at the Ministry – mostly to fight boredom and to have a purpose in life again – that she had experienced a change of heart. It was only until no other than Hermione Granger herself, became her boss.

Narcissa felt her patience waver as the clerk behind the reception of the Ministry kept stuttering in an attempt to fathom what she had just said to him. Nevertheless she kept her polite, but very fake, smile plastered on her face. She wore a dark green tailored jumpsuit – something she’d always fancied wearing but wasn’t allowed to do so from Lucius – with a black belt around her waist. The belt buckle was a silver snake with an emerald eye. Her boots were made of black dragon skin and had heels she could kill with. Her black coat, also tailored, was buttoned just below her breasts and flowed freely just an inch from reaching the floor. To finish her look, Narcissa wore silver jewellery with green emeralds as always.

‘You want to apply for a job at the Ministry?’

‘As I have stated twice already, yes.’

The clerk almost turned purple as his brain forgot to function completely. Eventually he managed to scribble down a memo that immediately flew away.

‘If you would be so kind as to take a seat, Lady Malfoy. The Minister of Magic will be with you shortly.’

‘It’s Lady Black now,’ Narcissa said as she arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. She had not expected her job application to cause such a fuss.

Nevertheless, she strode towards one of the wooden benches and perched herself atop of it. Her back straight and one leg crossed over the other, hands on her knee. It was the proper way to sit for a lady, the way she had been taught. Despite the bench being by far the most uncomfortable piece of furniture Narcissa had ever sat on, her stoic expression gave nothing away.

Luckily for the former Malfoy Matriarch’s backside, the Minister arrived mere minutes after the memo was send. He looked like he had dropped everything he was doing and hurried all the way to the reception to greet Narcissa. She immediately rose to her feet and offered her hand to the man in front of her.

‘Kingsley Shacklebolt, to what do I owe the pleasure of being received by the Minister of Magic himself? You are known to be a busy man.’

‘Yes, Lady Malf- Black… I apologize. I’m still getting used to your new name. Or old name actually. I also apologize for not receiving you in my office, I was in the middle of – something classified..’

Narcissa smirked as the man kept babbling as he inclined his head until his lips met her knuckles. She perfectly knew why he was acting so nervous around her. She had sent him at least three owls inquiring after a job at the Ministry, all which had gone unanswered. The man obviously never expected her to actually show up in a place where everyone either feared or hated her.

‘Since my owl seemed incapable of delivering my letters to you, I decided to butcher the animal and address you in person as I am convinced you would never deliberately ignore me, Minister.’

It took Kingsley a few moments before he seemed to realize that the one and only Narcissa had just made a joke. Surely she wouldn’t kill her owl? The Minister of Magic mentally kicked his own ass and composed himself. He had his reputation of being calm and unshaken to uphold!

‘I sincerely apologize for the lack of an answer, Lady Black. Your request was a rather unusual one and it demanded lots of debate and discussion before we could come to an agreement. Your timing is impeccable as always though since I just left the final meeting in which we came to a decision regarding your job application.’

Kinglsey waved his hand in the general direction of the Atrium as he invited Narcissa to walk alongside him. The witch with the platina streaked hair obliged and folded her hands in front of her stomach while walking. She tried to hide her curiosity even if it felt like she was going to burst.

‘You see Narcissa – can I call you Narcissa? – it’s not that we doubt your abilities. You have proven yourself to be a powerful and very intelligent witch. It’s just that you’ve been on the wrong side of the war for so long and that hasn’t gotten you many friends. I’m just going to be really honest with you, no department was willing to employ you apart from one.’

‘I sense a but…’

Kingsley smiled a sad smile. Narcissa was far more receptive than people gave her credit for. The witch hadn’t batted an eye when he told her she had no friends in the Ministry. She must have gotten used to being by herself, he thought.

‘You’d to become assistant to the deputy Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She’s the sole employee in this department and it’s becoming a bit much. Although I must admit that she’s partially to blame for that. Her work could be much more simple but she always saw it big.’

‘Whom are we speaking of? Who’s to become my boss?’ Narcissa inquired, not in the least taken aback by the inferior position she was offered.

She honestly didn’t care as long as she could keep herself busy. Suddenly she realized that Kingsley had stopped dead in his tracks and was looking at her with a rather uneasy look on his face.

‘You’ll get a 2 months trial before she decides to hire you. Of course you will receive correct compensation for your work and –‘

‘Who will become my boss?’

‘Hermione Granger.’

Narcissa smiled fondly as the memory played in her mind. She remembered inhaling sharply at the surprise of the name but maintaining her poise nevertheless. She also remembered requesting when she could meet her new boss, making Shacklebolt stutter all over again.

The witch looked at herself in the mirror with an approving nod and went downstairs. It was still dark outside as the morning had yet to begin. But she was always up early as she had trouble sleeping. It’s been years since she had a decent night of sleep but she had gotten used to it by now. Willy, the house-elf she employed was still asleep.

Narcissa was perfectly capable of doing her household by herself. After all, it wasn’t a very big house and only she lived in it. But the comfort of having another living creature in her house, soothed her. The loneliness could be so cruel sometimes. Willy’s previous owner had died and there was no living relative that could inherit her. Therefor, Willy had become a free elf.

But unlike Dobby, the poor elf she had treated so unnecessarily cruel, Willy did not like her freedom very much. Nevertheless, Narcissa had insisted on paying her for her service and the elf had agreed. The witch chuckled when she remembered how insulted Willy had been the first time she discovered Narcissa had woken up before dawn and made her own cup of tea.

It had taken some time for the two to find a routine they were both comfortable with. Hating boredom, Narcissa had demanded to still do some of the household. But that left Willy not knowing what to do. Luckily for them, Narcissa’s neighbour was an elderly muggle lady who struggled to keep up.

She was demented and almost blind and should have been in a home for elderly people by now, but she had no relatives who could take care of that for her. Narcissa had lived in her new house for a few months only when she saw the woman lying in her driveway after having stumbled and fallen to the ground.

If someone would have told Narcissa years ago that she would have taken pity on a muggle and helped her, she would have scoffed and hexed them. But she had changed. The world had changed. So Narcissa had assisted the woman and agreed with her that Willy would come over for a few hours each day to take care of the household.

The woman was too blind to see that Willy was a magical creature and even if she did suspect something, she had forgotten it the next morning. As had she forgotten Narcissa so that still left the witch lonely and without friends. Now, almost two years later, she still hadn’t got many friends. In fact her boss, Hermione Granger, probably came closest to being a friend to her.

And that was something that surprised both witches as Hermione certainly had not planned to keep Narcissa in her employment. The witch groaned as the memory resurfaced and decided that today, she would need coffee instead of tea to be able to face another day at work.

‘Enter.’

The answer sounded short but not unfriendly as Narcissa knocked on Hermione’s door. They had tucked her away somewhere deep within the Ministry at the end of a hallway of which Narcissa was convinced there used to be toilets instead of an office.

Apparently the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was considered a side job for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement but since they never had enough time to do their own work, it had been neglected for years.

That’s why house elves had been abused and enslaved for years without consequence. That’s why Centaurs and wizards had been living on the brink of war. That’s why Buckbeak had been sentenced to death when Lucius pressed the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to quickly make a decision in his favour.

But it all ended when Hermione Granger graduated. After the war, she returned to Hogwarts, determined to earn her job instead of being given it for being part of the Golden Trio, a name she hated. When everybody had expected her to take on some fancy post and work herself up to become the new Minister of Magic, she had asked to be in charge of the forgotten Department.

And the woman took her job seriously. The war had aged her in a way none of her other classmates could understand. She had seen things. Experienced things. It left her with scars and nightmares and the young witch found solace in her work and buried herself in it. She did not care about the tiny office that had such a small window, it barely let enough sunlight in to illuminate the room. She did not care about the years and years of neglect she had to make up for. And she did not care about being the sole employee of the Department.

That was until she heard that no one else but Narcissa Black was looking for a job. For some strange reason she couldn’t really name, she was intrigued by the idea of having one of her former tortures under her supervision so she told Shacklebolt that she needed help. Maybe she saw a way of taking vengeance on Narcissa? Or was it merely another distraction for her brilliant mind that was still scrambled from trauma? Back then, when Narcissa entered the office and looked Hermione in the eyes after years of not seeing each other, none of them exactly knew.

Narcissa finished her tea and forced herself to eat the last bit of toast on her plate. She was never really hungry in the mornings but after fainting once at Twilfit and Tattings where she wanted to have her clothes altered because she lost so much weight, she realized that she needed to take better care of herself.

True to her routine, Narcissa started to head out as soon as the sun was up. She muttered a good morning to Willy who came downstairs to make a list for the grocery shopping and shut the door behind her. For a few seconds she allowed herself to enjoy the mixture of fresh air and morning warmth to settle on her cheeks before starting her walk.

As always she bought the muggle newspaper as she headed towards the park. She could read the Daily Prophet at work but since she lived in a muggle neighbourhood, she liked to know what was going on in their world as well. Narcissa smiled as she found her favourite bench empty and sat down. At this hour, there wasn’t too much movement in the park apart from the early joggers and muggles who walked their dogs.

After spending almost half an hour skimming the newspaper and reading all the articles she found interesting, Narcissa began solving the crossword puzzle at the back. She had struggled so intensely with them when she first started doing this and realized that her knowledge of muggle words was lacking profusely. Lady Black was almost halfway when she looked at her silver wristwatch, a gift from Draco who realized his mother liked to do things without magic once and a while.

Narcissa’s heart skipped a beat. Almost time. The thought hadn’t even formed in her head completely as she saw the person she had been waiting for. Punctuality had always been a family trait. She nervously watched as muscular legs jogged their way through the park, cheeks flushed and brown curls bouncing wild. Andromeda. Andy.

She hadn’t found the courage yet to talk to her sister, but as soon as she found out that she jogged here very morning, she made sure the park was part of her own morning routine. It always tore Narcissa apart to see her sister. She felt happiness to see her, alive and well. But she also felt an overwhelming grief for all the lost years. Despite Andromeda surviving the war, Narcissa always felt like she lost both her sisters.

When she saw her sister wearing a blue spandex outfit disappearing behind a curve, she stood up and sighed. She always started work early so she could avoid the morning jam in the floo system. It had just started to rain when she saw her house emerge at the end of the street and she quickened her pace to avoid getting wet. Willy was not home so Narcissa assumed she was tending to her neighbour. Without much enthusiasm, she grabbed a fistful of powder and dropped it in the flames as she clearly stated ‘Ministry of Magic.’

With a loud ‘whoosh’ Narcissa appeared at work and quickly stepped out of the fireplace to make room for the next person to enter the building. She went to the stall that sold hot beverages and newspapers for her daily purchase. She avoided the gazes of the other witches and wizards that preferred to avoid rush hour by coming to work early.

‘One coffee with vanilla and the Daily Prophet,’ said the man behind the stall while he handed the items to Narcissa.

He wasn’t being friendly to her. He simply remembered everyone’s order who worked at the Ministry. New employees only needed ordering two or three times and he would know for the rest of their career. Even frequent visitors of the Ministry were stuck in his memory. It was rather impressive but Olivander managed to remember every wand he sold and to whom so it wasn’t a rare quality.

Narcissa put one Galleon on the counter and received four Sickles and seven Nuts in return, the way it always went. She didn’t bother smiling at the man or thanking him for he was already busy with his next customer. At least she made it through the first part of her journey to the office without a snarl or a hurtful comment directed towards her.

She sighed with relief as she had the elevator for herself and pressed the button. While nipping her coffee that was still burning hot, she let her eyes roam over the front page of the Daily Prophet. The witch was glad to see that this year there wasn’t some petty journalist who devoted an article to the anniversary of her divorce with Lucius. Last year it had been quite annoying to relive everything through the newspaper.

The doors from the elevator opened and Narcissa began the long walk through the hallways all the way to the end, where she and Hermione were hidden away in their office. Much to her surprise no witch or wizards she encountered in the hallway gave her an angry look. Even Minister Shackelbolt gave her a small smile that she returned with a polite nod. By the time her coffee had reached an acceptable temperature, she saw the door of her office appear. It instantly reminded her of the first time she went into that office.

‘Please take a seat Lady Malfoy,’ Hermione said while gesturing towards the chair in front of her desk.

‘It’s Lady Black now actually.’

Hermione inclined her head as to acknowledge the new name and took a moment to think before addressing the older witch in front of her. Narcissa surely looked older than the last time she saw her but it couldn’t be seen by her looks. She was still a truly beautiful witch. No, Hermione saw it in her eyes. The war had aged her like it had aged Hermione.

‘I assume Shacklebolt told you about the trial period?’

‘He did.’

‘I am going to be honest with you, Lady Black. I do not in Godric’s name know why I decided to give you a chance. The trial period is not only for you but for me as well. From the moment I decide that this arrangement does not work, I terminate your employment here. The same goes the other way. If, at some time during the two months, you decide that this is not what you want, you can walk away without consequence.’

‘And what if one of us decides that this does not work after the trial period?’

Hermione frowned, ‘then the usual procedures will need to be followed.’

‘I understand.’

‘You agree then?’

‘I do.’

Both witches fell silent whilst trying to form an opinion about the woman in front of them. Narcissa was surprised by Hermione’s honest answer but understood the girl nevertheless. She assumed it was her unending curiosity and kindness that drove her to accept Narcissa’s request for a job at the Ministry. Well she would make sure that she lived up to the expectations and vowed to exercise her job with vigour.

Hermione in her turn was pondering on the question why a wealthy witch as Narcissa would want a job at the Ministry. She assumed it might be to fight off the boredom and to amuse herself while drowning in Galleons. But Hermione refused to let her Department be a form of entertainment. She took her job very seriously and would make sure that Narcissa did the same! While scanning the witch’s face in front of her for clues of what she was thinking, Hermione decided to test her loyalty for her new job.

‘Very well. Your job will consist mainly of organizing and filing the years and years of untreated cases. I have not found the time to do it myself as I had to battle ancient laws first in order to protect Magical Creatures from the present and the future and well, I had to build a whole Department from scratch.’

Hermione gestured towards the teapot on the tiny stove and got up to make some as Narcissa nodded at her. While the brunette was busy, the older witch let her eyes roam the office. There were only two rooms. In the main room there was Hermione’s desk with a small window behind her. One chair behind the desk and one in front of it. The stove was in the corner directly besides the door.

The walls consisted of shelves filled with books and there was a comfortable looking armchair with a small table next to it. The other room was almost stacked to the roof with files and boxes. One wall consisted of an enormous closet with drawers. In the midst of the room was a small desk with a chair. The entire office felt a bit depressing and dark in Narcissa’s opinion.

‘I realize that this must not live up to your standards,’ Hermione said when she saw the frown upon Narcissa’s face.

‘This should not live up to your standards, either. Or anyone’s for that matter. There’s not enough light and fresh air. How do you cope?’

This question took Hermione by surprise as she was used to the woman glaring down at her in disdain. But she seemed genuinely shocked that Hermione worked in this inadequate environment. Did the war change her or had she always been more human than she let people to believe? Hermione was curious to find out.

‘I honestly have too much work to care about the state of my office. They told me I had to prove that this Department was worth the time and money of the Ministry. So that’s what I’m doing right now. Proving that this Department is necessary and then we can talk about remodelling.’

Narcissa felt a smirk tugging at the corner of her lip but she refused to let it appear. She accepted her cup of tea and listened to Hermione describing what her job would look like. It was all rather basic and monotonous work but when the filing was done, Narcissa would be reassigned to more interesting stuff.

When she finished her tea, Hermione looked at the clock and startled. Narcissa took the hint and excused herself, telling that she had to run some errands. The brunette stood and offered Narcissa a her hand. Narcissa looked at the outstretched hand in shock and then at the younger witch who was to become her boss. The woman looked at her defiantly, almost challenging Narcissa to refuse her hand.

But Hermione did not know that after years of refusing hands from people she deemed unworthy, Narcissa had endured years of people refusing her. So she looked her boss straight in the eyes and shook the outstretched hand with a firm grip. The skin to skin contact send a jolt through Narcissa’s body and she suddenly realized how touch-starved she had become.

She did not notice however that when she closed the door behind her, Hermione and sunk into her chair a trembling mess. The confrontation with Narcissa had been much harder on her than she had anticipated. She still didn’t completely understand why she had gotten herself into this situation. Maybe it was to get some form of closure? The brightest witch of her age felt rather stupid as she poured herself another cup of tea.

Narcissa shook the memory from her mind as she knocked twice on the door and opened it immediately. Hermione sat behind her desk and acknowledged her presence by muttering a ‘good morning’ and glancing up quickly. Narcissa nodded and immediately trotted into her room to read her paper and drink her coffee before starting the day.

Chapter Text

Narcissa is completely absorbed in her work as Hermione knocks on her door. The older witch barely hears it. She’s almost near the end the enormous task of filing years and years of neglected cases. The job could have been finished a lot sooner but there were always little task that needed doing first or meetings that should have been memos in the first place.

‘Narcissa. It’s nearly noon and I was wondering if you would like to join me for lunch?’

Despite them being colleagues, it still sounded strange when Hermione called her by her first name. Not necessarily in a bad way though. Narcissa liked Hermione saying her name but insisted on calling her Ms Granger despite Hermione’s efforts to let her call her by her first name as well. It just didn’t seem proper!

‘I’m really not that hungry Ms Granger. I think I’ll just continue working.’

‘I’m afraid I must insist.’

Narcissa arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow at that response, swallowing whatever harsh retort she would have come up with in her old days. Hermione was her boss even when she was almost half her age. She felt a smile tugging at her lips but scraped her throat to cover it up.

‘Very well then. I’ll be there in a minute.’

Hermione nodded and disappeared from the doorway. Narcissa looked at her stack of papers with a regretful look. She knew that she would not be as motivated when she returned. Filing these cases was often a matter of getting into a good flow, otherwise it felt like a never ending story. Nevertheless she rose from her seat and walked to the other room.

Hermione was waiting for her which surprised the witch. She had assumed Hermione just wanted company when they ate their lunch at the small table and the comfortable looking chair that had recently been duplicated so both witches could sit. But apparently they were going out?

The brunette smiled rather wickedly at her which unsettled the older woman a bit. Her icy cold expression slid back on her face since it was the perfect way for her to shield herself against the unknown. Hermione noticed it but pretended not to as she closed the door behind them. They walked in silence towards the Atrium and when Hermione saw Narcissa hesitate, not sure where to go, she softly touched her elbow.

‘The main entrance. We can walk there.’

The witch jolted at the touch as if she had been hexed and quickly strutted towards the main exit to hide her embarrassment. Hermione frowned. Surely the witch was used to her company by now? She shrugged it off and followed her employee who had disappeared at such a speed, Hermione secretly suspected her to wear trainers underneath her dress and not stilettos.

Luckily for her, Narcissa had to wait outside since she had no clue where they were going. She turned around so fast, Hermione almost didn’t see that she had been fidgeting with her purse. Lady Black seemed rather nervous when her routine was broken. The young witch tried to hide her amusement and beckoned Narcissa to follow her.

They walked while Hermione held a monologue about how the weather had been dreadful with Narcissa just walking awkwardly besides her. It wasn’t long before both witches entered a very cosy looking coffee shop and sat themselves down on two armchairs around a table that had a little reservation card on it. Before Narcissa could even begin to form a coherent thought, two cups of coffee were placed in front of them.

‘I had a feeling this lunch wouldn’t be something you liked doing since you barely take a half hour break when you’re busy filling. That’s why I went ahead and ordered for us. I hope you don’t mind. It’s your usual.’

Narcissa blinked as she looked at her cup of coffee. She could smell the vanilla in it and she suddenly realized how much she craved the coffee. She was in the midst of thanking Hermione when the waitress returned and put two scandalously big pieces of cake next to the coffee. Hers was a gooey chocolate cake which was still a bit warm on the inside and Hermione’s was a cheesecake with raspberry sauce.

‘Oh, I also ordered us some cake because when it’s busy, it can be a long wait,’ Hermione laughed as she saw Narcissa stare at her food.

‘How did you know I like this?’

‘The coffee wasn’t very hard since you carry one of those inside the office every day. The cake… well let’s say it was a calculated guess.’

‘Chocolate is my guilty pleasure but I rarely allow myself to have it.’

‘Well don’t make me use my boss-authority and force you to eat it.’

This joke earned Hermione a glare but the witch laughed again. A tingling sound that filled the shop and Narcissa’s head making her brain go “error”. She silently berated herself. She was a Black, by Salazar’s Snake! She was trained for social conventions, thrived in them and moulded people to her will.

At least, she used to thrive in them. The solitude had left scars and where there used to be such confidence that it easily flowed into arrogance, a nervousness was all that was left. She hated her old self, but she didn’t know how her new self should behave and it drove her insane. Suddenly she felt a hand on her arm and it was all she needed to jerk back to reality.

‘It was a joke, Narcissa. I apologize if I insulted you.’

‘You did not insult me Ms Granger. I’m afraid my mind took me elsewhere for a moment.’

‘Can you please consider calling me Hermione?’

‘It doesn’t feel very formal, now does it?’

Hermione sighed but decided to let it go for now. She picked up her fork and attacked her cheesecake while nodding appreciatively. Narcissa hesitantly did the same and despite her years of training in etiquette, she failed in holding back a moan when she first tasted the chocolate cake. Merlin it was heavenly!

Narcissa managed to eat the rest of her plate in silence but little did she know that her accidental moan had send such a shiver down Hermione’s spine, she feared it would break in half. Never had she heard the woman make such a sound but DAMN, it was like music to her ears. For the first time, Hermione looked at Narcissa in a different way and it ruined her for good.

To distract her from all the very confusing thoughts that swirled through her mind, she tried to have some small talk with the witch in front of her. But she seemed hesitant to answer her questions and never asked one back. Eventually, Narcissa was fed up and looked Hermione straight in the eyes.

‘Not that I don’t appreciate this lunch, Ms Granger. But why did you organize this?’

‘Well… I know that today isn’t an easy day for you. I know that it’s been exactly two years since you divorced Lucius and I also remember the circus that went on last year. It must have been so horrible for you so this year, I wanted to do the right thing and actually celebrate you regaining your freedom.’

‘Regaining my fr – ,’ Narcissa spluttered and felt herself become flustered.

She did not understand. At all! Why was this girl being to kind towards her? Why did she even remember this day? But apart from her confusing, she felt angry as well. She had NO freedom. None at all. They might have well tossed her into Azkaban because sometimes she felt as if that would have been a kinder faith.

The dangerous mixture of emotions overwhelmed the former Malfoy Matriarch and she did the only thing she knew. She rose from her seat and looked down at Hermione in disgust. Arrogance as her weapon! The brunette immediately rose as well, her Gryffindor courage kicking in as she would normally have shrivelled away from such a nasty look.

‘Narcissa! I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened?’

‘Thank you for the lunch, Ms Granger but I shall take my leave now.’

‘But – ‘

Hermione never stood a chance as the older witch stormed off, her stilettos making angry clicking sounds on the wooden floor of the coffee shop. The door slammed shut and Hermione was left alone and utterly shocked. When a new group of customers asked her if she was finished so they could take her spot, she could only nod. Defeated she walked to the counter, ordered a coffee to go and paid for their lunch.

Narcissa did not return to work for the remainder of the day, nor the day after and Hermione was worried sick. She had hoped to talk to the witch about the incident at the coffee shop but she had vanished without a trace. The brunette had tried to shrug it off and focus on work but for the first time in her life, she realized that drowning herself in work did not distract her from her other problems.

At the end of the third day without having seen or heard her employee, she decided to take action. Getting Narcissa’s address was ridiculously easy. She just had to pretend to the clerk that Lady Black was suspected to keep dark artefacts in her house and he secretly gave her the information breaking at least 10 Ministry rules in the process.

So not ten minutes after deciding that she wanted to talk to her employee, Hermione stood on her doorstep waiting to stop trembling before knocking on the door. It didn’t take long before it was opened by a female house-elf who looked expectantly at Hermione.

‘Good evening. Is your employer home? I’d like to talk to her.’

Hermione refused to use the word ‘owner’ and smiled kindly at the elf. She looked well nourished and wore a very plain grey dress that symbolized her servitude. If Hermione got her way, house elves would be able to wear any clothing to their liking, but at least this was an improvement from Dobby’s filthy pillowcase.

‘My Mistress wishes to be left alone,’ the elf squeaked.

‘I’m Lady Black’s boss and if I cannot see her tonight and talk to her, I will have no other option but to fire her. Surely you don’t want to be responsible for that?’

Willy’s eyes became as big as saucers and she immediately opened the door to let Hermione in. The witch felt a bit bad for threatening the poor creature but she was desperate to resolve things with Narcissa. She wanted to know what she did wrong to cause such distress. When she entered the house she was momentarily amazed by the elegance it breathed. This was Narcissa through and through.

The next thing she saw, was very unlike Narcissa but nevertheless it was the very same witch Hermione saw pacing around her kitchen island. She looked like a mess. Her usually elegant dress that she always kept creaseless, was dirty and looked crumpled. Her neat hair was wild and in dire need of a wash and her ice blue eyes were bloodshot.

As soon as Narcissa saw Hermione, she turned on her heels and bolted through the doors of the kitchen to flee to the living room. Before Hermione could fathom what was happening, Narcissa returned with her wand pointed at Hermione’s chest. She had a bad tremor and wasn’t very sturdy on her feet but nevertheless Hermione raised her hands.

‘Lower your wand, Narcissa. I am not here to harm you.’

‘It’s Lady Black to you,’ the older witch spat.

Hermione saw so many emotions flash over the Witch’s face; anger, confusion, sadness, fear and anger again. The tremor in Narcissa’s hands only got worse up to the point where the witch collapsed and sunk to the floor. She leaned against an armchair and pulled her legs up so she could burry her face between her knees.

Her wand clattered against the floor and she wrapped her arm around her head, trying to avoid Hermione’s gaze. The older witch, known for her cool and distant demeanour, broke down in sobs. Hermione recognized the signs that she was going to hyperventilate as her breathing became ragged. She slowly sank to her knees and pulled out her own wand.

The Brightest Witch of her Age had been in this situation many times before. When she returned to Hogwarts after the war, she had suffered severely from PTSD and anxiety attacks had often caused her to hyperventilate. McGonagall had been her most trusted person throughout her ordeal. She had taught Hermione a calming spell which made breathing easier again.

But the best method to get someone to calm down, was physical contact. Minerva had held a crying Hermione in her arms so often, trying to soothe her student. The feeling of warmth and trust and kindness. It was the best way to calm Hermione down. When she graduated, she kept in touch with Minerva. Often writing her or going to grab dinner together. She truly felt like she had a friend in her former tutor.

And now, Hermione was determined to show the same kindness to Narcissa. She muttered a quiet respirare and started rubbing Narcissa’s back. The young witch made sure to apply enough pressure and made big, slow circles. The gesture visibly soothed the destressed woman who already started breathing slower and deeper.

‘There you go. Try to focus on one thought at the same time, Narcissa. You’ll notice it helps a lot. Maybe focus on my voice and the fact that I won’t do you any harm. We’ll talk about the rest later.’

After a few minutes, Narcissa seemed to have gathered her wits again as she sat up straight and exhaled deeply. She nodded when Hermione asked if she was feeling better and accepted the outstretched hand to help her get up. Her boss guided her to the armchair she had been leaning against and sat her down.

‘I will make us a cup of tea if that’s alright?’

Suddenly a loud pop of apparition sounded and a rather displeased looking Willy looked at Hermione.

‘You will not make a cup of tea. Willy will make you a cup of tea. Willy already hasn’t got enough work as it is.’

Hermione wanted to argue but felt Narcissa’s hand on her arm, demanding her to sit down in the armchair next to her.

‘It’s alright, Ms Granger. I pay her for her services.’

Hermione opened her mouth but no sound came out of it as she sank into the armchair. Narcissa scoffed when she was the perplexed expression on the face of her boss.

‘Does it surprise you that much Ms Granger?’

‘Well… yes. After Dobby…’

‘I treated that elf horribly and I was very sorry to hear that he had passed away. He deserved so much better. It is one of my actions for which I must atone. One of many.’

Hermione didn’t miss the nudge Narcissa gave but she didn’t come to her house to talk about what happened between them and Bellatrix. She came to talk about Narcissa’s peculiar meltdown.

‘How are you Narcissa?’

The witch gulped at the kindness in Hermione’s voice. She suddenly seemed to realize that Hermione had not come here to exchange pleasantries but to talk about something she had never talked about with anyone before.

‘I’m afraid I was dealing with too many emotions at once Ms Granger. On top of that, it were emotions that I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I wasn’t known as the Ice Queen for nothing.’

‘Talk me through it. Tell me which emotions you felt and what triggered them so that we can resolve this and make sure that it doesn’t happen again.’

Narcissa looked as if the mere notion of talking about emotions made her sick to the stomach. Luckily for her, Willy chose that exact moment to bring the witches a cup of tea and a tray of biscuits. The little elf smiled when she saw her Mistress felt better and left the living room with a bow. Narcissa gratefully took her cup of tea and sipped it. The brunette realized that she needed to give the woman next to her another nudge.

‘It’s alright Narcissa. I understand that it’s hard but trust me, I’ve been through this as well. I know what I’m doing. Let’s agree that you can ask me questions in return and I will answer them honestly.’

That seemed to do the trick as a sad smile appeared on Narcissa’s face. She bend down to pick up her wand that was still on the floor and placed it back in her robes. Absentmindedly she combed her fingers through her hair and started smoothing the creases in her dress. Hermione only smiled at that. Narcissa was starting to behave like herself again.

‘Well, the first thing I sensed when you said that you wanted to celebrate the anniversary of me regaining my freedom was anger.’

‘And why did that make you angry? I can assure you, the gesture was a friendly one with no other intentions.’

‘I know, Ms Granger but I feel like nobody really understands the situation that I’m in. Lucius left me. Draco has a family of his own now and although he tries to stay in touch, it feels like we aren’t on the same page anymore. He doesn’t truly understand me. One sister won’t talk to me and the other one is dead. I’m seen as a traitor among my former friends and the witches and wizards I helped by lying to the Dark L – Voldemort – look at me with suspicion.’

Narcissa pinched the bridge of her nose and calmed her breathing which had become rapid again. Hermione said nothing but gently squeezed the witch’s knee to encourage her to go on. She knew this was difficult for Narcissa but it was the only way to move forward.

‘So despite me not being send to Azkaban, I am not a free woman Ms Granger. For years I barely left the house because when I did, people would glare at me, insult me or try to hurt me. I have no one to talk to apart from Draco and Willy and those conversation are always very superficial. Not even in my dreams am I a free woman because the war haunts me. What I did haunts me. The horrible woman I was back then, HAUNTS ME.’

She almost screamed the last words as she broke down in tears again. For years she had always kept her emotions at bay. Never showed people what she truly thought let alone openly cry. So now, Narcissa cried all those unshed tears. When Hermione leaned in to offer comfort, she buried her face in the crook of her neck and those brown curls and cried some more. Her body almost seemed grateful to finally let go of all the tension and her muscles relaxed into Hermione’s embrace.

The younger witch began rubbing Narcissa’s back again and conjured a handkerchief with her wand which she offered to Narcissa. After a few moments, Narcissa’s sobs faded and she straightened her back again. Blue but bloodshot eyes looked into brown ones expecting to see amusement or even worse, pity. But she only saw kindness, worry and understanding and it almost made her cry again.

‘So you’re angry because people assume you live a free life in luxury and don’t realize that as long as you are not accepted in the society, you will always be a prisoner in your own house. What else?’

‘Confusion Ms Granger. I felt a lot of confusion.’

‘Why? Because of the cake?’

‘No,’ Narcissa laughed softly, ‘because of your kindness. I can’t fathom why you would remember the date of my divorce in the first place, let alone invite me to lunch to celebrate it. I do not deserve kindness Ms Granger, least of all yours.’

‘But Narcissa! If you are not willing to accept kindness, how will you ever be a part of society again? You cannot punish yourself forever. Your actions in the war will always be your cross to bear but we all did horrible things during the war. It’s not like you actually killed people.’

That last part did not sit well with Narcissa as she immediately rose to her feet and stood before Hermione who needed all her bravery to not shrivel in her chair.

‘Doing NOTHING while people get tortured and killed is just as bad! Don’t try to make me feel better by pretending my actions during the war were any less severe than those of my sister.’

The older witch’s knees gave away and she slumped down onto the coffee table, making the teacups rattle. Her hands lay in her lap, fidgeting. Hermione sighed and gently took Narcissa’s hands in her own.

‘You are absolutely right and I apologize. Doing nothing is just as bad but you did it to save Draco and a mother’s love for her child can never be a crime. Not being brave can never be a crime. I am not saying you are a perfectly wonderful witch because I have often dreamed of wiping the arrogance of your face but you are worthy of kindness Narcissa. And if you insist on making the comparison with Bellatrix… She took pleasure in inflicting pain and torturing and killing. She thrived in it while you are a mess because of what you did.’

They remained silent for a long time, just holding hands while Hermione granted Narcissa the time to reflect upon what was said. And then, very slowly, Narcissa wriggled her hands free and gently pushed Hermione’s sleeve back, revealing the mudblood scar on her arm. It wasn’t as bright red as it used to be but even the faded letters were very visible against Hermione’s tanned skin.

‘I am so very sorry about this.’

‘I know.’

‘Bellatrix wasn’t always crazy.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You claim that I am a better person than Bella but she was a wonderful sister and a very clever woman before she fell for the Dark side.’

Hermione could only nod. While she was capable of talking and touching the woman who stood by when she was being tortured, it was something else entirely to think about Bellatrix as a kind person. She understood Narcissa’s need to redeem her sister. To tell the world that it was the madness that drove her to do those things and to tell herself that she didn’t have such an excuse for her actions.

But it was a conversation she wasn’t ready for to have yet. Healing takes time. So just as it would take time for Narcissa to stop punishing herself and to try and start anew, it would take time for Hermione to talk about the greatest trauma in her life. And when she looked into Narcissa’s eyes, she realized that the witch understood. Maybe it was her talent for Legilimency or maybe it was written all over Hermione’s face but Narcissa nodded a silent agreement. They would talk about it some other time.

‘I also felt grateful for my job at the Ministry. It’s not a terribly exciting job but I feel useful again. Like I have a purpose and am no longer bored out of my mind. It felt like an important first step to one day obtain a job I’ve always wanted.’

‘Which is?’

‘I’d love to be a potion Mistress at St. Mungo’s. I’ve always had a talent for potions an healing and intended to study for that specific position but my engagement with Lucius made sure that would never happen. The Malfoys are one of the eldest pureblood families and they do not approve of women having a job. Luckily those beliefs are slowly disappearing form our world. It’s so awfully medieval.’

Hermione laughed at that, genuinely surprised at the revelation. She made a mental note that she would look into this position at St. Mungo’s, determined to help Narcissa achieve her goal. The brunette felt that they had almost reached the end of this conversation so she asked for the last time:

‘What else did you feel?’

‘Hope,’ Narcissa answered after a long pause.

‘Hope?’

‘Yes. I’ve started to notice that people no longer insult me when they pass me in the hallways. Some even start to acknowledge my presence instead of ignoring me. But then there’s this annoying voice in the back of my head that always whispers to me that I’m an imbecile for believing people would accept me.’

Narcissa holds her head and shakes it to demonstrate how infuriating this voice is to her and Hermione sympathizes with her. She stand up from her chair and gives Narcissa her hand to pull her to her feet as well.

‘I perfectly understand what you mean. That voice you speak of used to torment me as well but I discovered that it’s a symptom of loneliness. It prevents you from forgiving yourself, accepting the new you and living your life.’

‘How did you get rid of it?’

‘I found the perfect medicine.’

Blue eyes pierced into brown as the witch tried to pull the answer from Hermione’s mind but the younger witch her mental wards were impenetrable. She chuckled at Narcissa’s impatience and held her by the shoulders.

‘A friend.’

‘What?’

‘You’re in dire need of a friend. Someone who can counter that voice inside your head. Someone you can have meaningful conversations with. Someone who can pull you out of your loneliness and back into society.’

‘Who was your friend?’

‘I’ll introduce you to her when you’re ready but for now, Narcissa Black, I’d like to be your friend.’

A deafening silence followed as Narcissa visibly struggled against her tears once more. When she finally spoke, it was nothing more than a faint whisper.

‘I do not know how to maintain a friendship.’

‘Well you can start by calling me Hermione and we’ll figure the rest out along the way.’

Both women smiled at each other. Hermione realized that it would be her turn soon to answer questions but for now it had been enough.

Chapter Text

‘Good morning Hermione.’

The brunette looked up in surprise as Narcissa walked into the office for the first time since her breakdown. She had given her the rest of the week off to put everything in perspective and it clearly had been a good call. The witch looked rejuvenated. No. She looked absolutely gorgeous!

She wore black slacks which accentuated her ass in such a way it should be illegal. Her black stilettos had a silver bow on them and looked terribly uncomfortable, yet she walked in them like a queen. She wore a dark green blouse that also had a bow on either sleeve. The slim, black tie she wore was tucked into her pants and she carried her black vest on her arm together with her purse that had a silver buckle. And if that wasn’t enough to make Hermione’s brain go numb, the silver framed glasses perched on top of Narcissa’s nose definitely would.

‘Good morning Narcissa,’ the brunette finally managed to stammer.

Narcissa barely managed to hide her smirk as she walked into her part of the office. The enormous stacks of files had almost completely disappeared as Narcissa had filed them and put them in the drawers of the closet against the wall. The closet itself was magically enhanced so that it could store and endless amount of paperwork.

Hermione had been thoroughly impressed with Narcissa’s filing system. She had made an index with colour codes and within each colour she had worked alphabetically. Apart from that she had made three main sections: closed, urgent and pending. On the blackboard behind Narcissa’s desk was an overview of all their cases. So both witches could immediately tell how many, urgent, pending or closed cases they had in each colour section. The board itself had been spelled so it altered automatically when cases were closed or new cases were filed.

Narcissa hung her purse and vest on the coat rack and put her vanilla coffee down on her desk. She put her braided hair over her shoulder and strutted back into Hermione’s part of the office. The brunette tried to hide her surprise behind a smile but all she managed was a painfully looking grin.

‘I didn’t know you wore glasses.’

‘I only need them when I’m very tired or when my eyes are strained. I can tell you that a few days of non-stop crying makes your eyes very sore.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that you have cried so much more after our talk. But the glasses suit you.’

‘Thank you Hermione. I just wanted to inform you that starting tomorrow we will have to work from home a few days.’

‘I don’t understand?’

‘Despite you giving me the rest of the week off, I’ve been busy. I made a report from all our files and went knocking on the Minister’s door. He was perplexed to see how many pending cases we had and how many had been closed because of the fact that the Magical Creature in question had died without receiving the proper aid. I made him clear that this Department, whether it’s small or not, is a valuable asset for the Ministry of Magic that is been trying to keep up with all the modern changes.’

‘It sounds like you gave poor Kingsley quite the lecture.’

‘I sure did. I even told him that he looked like a fool when he proudly proclaimed his support for same-sex marriages since that has been legal for years in other countries. When I asked him if he would also proclaim his support for animal rights at least 5 years too late, he caved.’

‘I applaud you but I still do not see why we have to work from home.’

‘I have his permission to turn this depressing shack they dare call an office into a worthy workplace.’

Hermione squealed as she jumped to her feet. She happily accepted the blueprints Narcissa handed her and looked in awe at the improved office. It had four rooms instead of two and looked very comfortable.

The tile floor that used to be the floor of the toilets was replaced by a wooden laminate flooring. The walls were white instead of the brown they now were and the tiny window was replaced by a large one that looked out over London. There was a small waiting area with a coffee corner and a toilet for visitors and clients.

The bookshelves in the main room had disappeared and made room for a bigger desk that could hold two people seated opposite one another. The comfortable looking chairs had now been placed on either side of that desk and there was a closet for supplies of parchment, ink and quills.

The part of the office were Narcissa was currently seated now held all the bookshelves and the closet with all the files. In the midst of the room was a giant blackboard and a few chairs that they could use for meetings or debates.

The fourth and final room was a tiny kitchen with a table and chairs so that they could eat lunch without having to sit at their desks or holding their food in their laps. The entire office was decorated with plants and flowers and wooden accents.

‘It’s lovely Narcissa. I cannot believe you fixed this! Where did they even find the funds to pay for this renovation?’

Since rooms that existed purely out of magic began to act funny after a longer period of time, the basics had to be present. You could transform a wooden chair into a cosy sofa or you could enlarge a room but you couldn’t conjure it all out of nothing or it wasn’t entire impossible that your office just vanished again after a few months. And even the transformations of the basics were tricky and best handled by professionals.

‘There are no funds,’ Narcissa waved dismissively with her hand, ‘but I offered to pay for it myself and Shacklebolt agreed.’

‘He may agree but I certainly do not!’

‘Hermione, before you go all righteous and honourable on me, let me just clarify that I have so many Galleons I’d need at least 3 lifetimes to spend them all. This renovation won’t hurt me one bit.’

The brunette had no retort to that statement and rolled her eyes to indicate her defeat. She was secretly very excited to work in a decent office after years in this dark dump. But suddenly she realized that she didn’t want Narcissa to find out about her other dark dump; her little apartment in London.

When Hermione had retrieved her parents from Australia and restored their memories, not everything had gone well. They remembered that she was their daughter and that they loved her very much but real knowledge seemed to be lacking. Her father would never be able to be a dentist again as he simply didn’t remember how anymore.

Her mother wasn’t much better off as she had trouble with maths and spelling. Even cooking sometimes was a challenge. So Hermione sold their house and moved them to a cosy bungalow in a more rural area of England where they had constant care from a social worker. They had private tutors to help them regain their skills and memories while they lived a very comfortable life.

It was the only thing Hermione could do to not feel an all-consuming guilt wash over her each day. She had only wanted to protect her parents but messing with memories was a dangerous thing. Luckily both her parents were happy as they had made some friends who lived nearby and spend their days in peace and quiet.

But it did leave Hermione practically without Galleons to spend on herself as the social worker and private tutors were very expensive. So she rented an abysmal apartment that was so small, it was impossible to not let it become cluttered. She had thought about using magic but her overly friendly neighbour had the habit of barging in unannounced and she had no desire to deal with the paperwork of erasing her neighbours memory on a daily basis.

The small apartment didn’t even bug Hermione that much as she was always at work and spend most of her free time either at the Burrow or at Grimmauld place. She had kept close contact with Harry and Ron who were both aurors now. Harry had renovated Grimmauld place and lived there with Ginny and their firstborn child James. Ron was dating Lavender after he and Hermione broke up but still lived with his parents as he didn’t want to rush into a new relationship yet.  

Despite the two of them not working out together, Hermione was still very welcome at the Weasleys and she never missed an opportunity to spend time with her friends. Nevill and Luna had also become a part of their group after all they’d been through together and had recently announced their engagement. That left Hermione as the only single in the group but she always joked about being married to work when someone teased her about it.

‘Hermione?’

Narcissa voices brought her back to reality with a sharp intake of breath. She had been daydreaming about her friends in front of the other witch who looked at her with concerned eyes.

‘Oh sorry. My mind took me elsewhere. Can we work at your place? There’s construction works near mine so I think it’ll be hard for us to concentrate.’

‘Very well. I’ll be expecting you tomorrow at 9am sharp,’ Narcissa said with a wink believing Hermione’s lie without question as she headed back to her part of the office.

And at 9am precisely, Hermione stood once more on Narcissa’s doorstep and knocked. This time, the witch herself opened the door and smiled at her visitor. Hermione felt her last bit of common sense leave her body as she took in the woman before her. Narcissa still wore her silver framed glasses but had her hair up in a ponytail and it made Hermione’s stomach ache.

She wore her black slacks again but this time with a pearl white blouse and no tie. The fact that she was barefoot didn’t help Hermione to scramble her brain back together to try and say something.

‘Good morning Hermione. Please come in. Would you mind terribly to take of your shoes? Willy and I cleaned the house this morning.’

‘This morning? You’ve been up early then. Maybe I should say good afternoon instead?’

Narcissa chuckled but didn’t elaborate on the subject. They both knew she doesn’t sleep well and she wasn’t going to spoil this attempt at jolly chitchat with a conversation about nightmares and lack of sleep.

When Hermione kicked of her shoes and stood in front of her colleague, she noticed how small Narcissa actually was. The witch who normally towered over her, looked her straight into the eyes and was barely taller than the brunette. Hermione snickered and went to the kitchen.

‘What are you laughing about?’

‘You’re tiny.’

‘I am most certainly not tiny! You’re the same height as me.’

‘I never claimed I wasn’t tiny, now did I?’

Narcissa tssssk’t  and followed her boss to the kitchen. The witch was in the midst of making herself comfortable at her kitchen table when Willy apparated into the room to make them both some tea. They started chatting a bit and when the house elf disappeared and Narcissa told Hermione that she was going to help her neighbour, the young witch was at a loss for words.

Not knowing what to say, Hermione threw herself on her work and after a few moments of awkward silence, Narcissa did the same. Hermione was preparing some important presentation in which she had to tell what her Department had achieved the past year. It was an annual obligation for every Department in the Ministry and the amount of funding they received highly depended on this presentation.

Narcissa on the other side of the table decided to leave her filing for what is was and focused on the protocols that were in place. They were ancient and dated and Hermione had suggested that they’d look into them together after she read them all first and wrote down some ideas. Narcissa didn’t even make it halfway the first scroll when Hermione dropped her quill.

‘You should write a book.’

‘I beg your pardon.’

‘You should write a book Narcissa! I mean it! It’s the perfect way to show your side of the story. Tell the people why you did what you did without trying to talk yourselves out of your crimes. And then you could talk about your struggles afterwards and how you changed in order to get a second chance.’

‘That’s preposterous.’

‘No, think about it! Don’t answer me now but think about it.’

Narcissa frowned and resumed her work as Hermione’s words ghosted through her head. The thought had crossed her mind as well if she was being honest but she never had the courage to actually do it. The public opinion scared her too much. But maybe with Hermione’s support…

‘You should call it “behind the façade” to refer to your ice queen nickname but also the walls of Malfoy Manner.’

‘Ms Granger, please focus on your work,’ Narcissa scolded but she failed at hiding her smile this time and Hermione felt her heart skip a beat.

They worked opposite each other for hours, barely speaking but the silence was never uncomfortable. When Willy returned, she made both witches another cup of tea and some sandwiches to eat for lunch. When Narcissa suggested to eat outside in the garden, Hermione beamed with happiness. A garden! She loved gardens and missed having one of her own.

Narcissa’s garden turned out to be phenomenal. There was an elegant gazebo in the midst of it and the grass and bushes were kept meticulously. A stone path connected the gazebo to the house and white daffodils decorated the entire garden. It looked like a fairy tale and Hermione was in awe.

‘This is the prettiest garden I have ever seen.’

‘Then you mustn’t have seen many.’

‘I’m serious Narcissa. It’s gorgeous.’

‘Lucius always found my choice in flowers rather egocentric but I just genuinely like them.’

Hermione smiled at the witch. It was the first time she spoke about her life at Malfoy Manner with Lucius and the brunette sensed that she wasn’t in the mood to elaborate on the subject today. So she kept the conversation light hearted by pointing at the herbs at the back of the garden and asking whether she believed fresh herbs made better potions than dried ones.

She found Narcissa to be an extremely intellectual witch and she was happy to have found someone who could match her own wit. They brainstormed about Hermione’s hypothesis concerning the herbs and discovered more similarities between them than they expected. Narcissa liked Ancient Runes as much as Hermione did and had a weakness for books. The only difference being that Narcissa never showed her intellect and talent unlike Hermione.

‘I preferred to be underestimated so that they wouldn’t send me on missions. I rather cleaned the entire Manor on my bare knees than having to kill people for a cause I no longer believed in.’

‘Well you’re a very capable witch. St. Mungo’s will be grateful to have you working for them.’

‘We’ll see,’ Narcissa said with a shy smile.

They had both finished their tea and their sandwiches but neither one of them wanted to end lunch and resume work. Narcissa looked like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. Since she was one of the most skilled persons in Legilimency and Occlumency Hermione had ever come across, she couldn’t find the answer in Narcissa’s head. Therefore, she simply just asked.

‘Sickle for you thoughts?’

‘Oh I assure you Ms Grang – Hermione… they are barely worth a knut.’

‘Share them with me anyway?’

‘I was thinking about the questions I wanted to ask you. You remember? It was part of our deal.’

‘Of course I remember.’

‘I have three questions for you. Asking less questions seemed like a wasted opportunity to get some honest answers but asking more felt like I was taking advantage of your inability to formulate a clear business agreement.’

‘My inability to what?’

Narcissa laughed at that. It was a soft laugh but it made Hermione grin from ear to ear. She had made Narcissa laugh for the first time since they became colleagues!

‘It’s just obvious that you trust people too easily. You formulate some sort of deal and assume that all will be well. If you’d been raised in my world, you would have known that you should clearly state the number of questions and the timeframe in which they should be asked to avoid someone taking advantage of you.’

‘To be honest, that sounds terribly exhausting. Don’t you Slytherins ever grow tired of all the scheming and plotting?’

‘It’s merely politics, dear.’

Hermione almost bit her tongue when she heard the nickname but Narcissa was so engrossed in smoothing out a crease in her slacks that she didn’t realize what she’d said. She had taken off her glasses for lunch and was now leaning backwards in her chair to enjoy the fresh air on her cheeks. Her tongue wetted her lips as she sighed her contentment. Hermione was the first one to speak.

‘Well? What’s the first question?’

‘How did you fare after the war?’

‘Not good. Not good at all. In the beginning all went well but after a week or two, reality started to sink in. It was as if my brain needed some time to comprehend that we lost so many people. So many friends. I started to sleep worse and during the day, panic attacks would completely floor me. I initially thought it would get better, but it only got worse.’

‘Tell me.’

‘Ron and Harry had difficulties too of course but Ron focused on his relationship with me and his family and Harry focused on his godson and Ginny. But I was dealing with the realization that Ron wasn’t the person I wanted to grow old with and with the guilt concerning my parents memory loss.’

‘That must have been quite a burden.’

‘It was and I felt like I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I got more and more estranged from my friends and eventually Ron cheated on me with Lavender. I never blamed him for it as I completely pushed him away. He deserved better and I’m glad he’s happy now.’

‘He shouldn’t have cheated on you though.’

‘I know but Ron always had the sensitivity of a teaspoon.’

‘I believe all men have. Go on.’

‘The anxiety and depression only got worse up to a point where I started neglecting my own health so bad that I fainted. This didn’t go unnoticed by Minerva of course and she took me under her wings. She recommended me to go to a talking group and despite being very reluctant, I went. It changed everything.’

‘You must have met your mystery friend there.’

‘I did. She listened to me and supported me and eventually I felt strong enough to return to my friends who welcomed me as if I’d never left. I graduated and immediately applied for jobs as I needed to support my parents. I’ll admit I’m still a bit of an outsider but I’m quite happy with my life right now.’

‘I’m glad to hear it Hermione. You certainly deserve to live a fulfilling life after you’ve sacrificed most of your childhood to the war.’

‘Many of us did. Harry and Ron obviously. But also Luna, Ginny, Nevill… Draco. We all lost a piece of us during that damned war. Every student at Hogwarts did, I suppose.’

This time it was Narcissa who offered comfort to Hermione by squeezing her knee. The young girl had become a very beautiful woman and Narcissa couldn’t deny the fact that she liked her company very much. She knew she was touch-starved after years of solitude but there was a voice inside her head that kept insisting she wouldn’t react this way if she touched another person. Hermione was a very attractive witch after all.

‘Narcissa?’

‘I’m sorry. What did you say?’

‘I asked what your next question was,’ Hermione said kindly.

‘Oh. Right. Well… I’ve asked you this before and you couldn’t answer me yet. Perhaps you still can’t but I’d like to know why you hired me.’

‘I feared that question might pop up,’ Hermione sighed, but she answered it nevertheless.

‘At first, I thought it would give me closure. I had the idea to give you a trial period so that I could deal with my nightmares once and for all and then terminate our agreement. But it wasn’t before long that I realized, you could never give me closure.’

‘Why not?’

‘You are not the one who carved this word in my arm. It was only when we started working together that I realized you are indeed a Black, but you aren’t Bellatrix. She’s dead and can never hurt me again and that’s what gave me closure.’

‘I see. Then why continue my employment?’

‘Because then a version of myself that I’m not proud of, decided that it might be fun to have some revenge. I wanted to get back at you for always glaring down on me, looking at me in disdain. I’m sure you remember our outings where I had you knee deep in mud and dung?’

‘I remember,’ Narcissa said dryly but there was a flicker of mirth in her eyes.

‘Well I honestly apologize for that. Luckily it also didn’t take me long to figure out that revenge wasn’t going to make me feel better.’

‘So it wasn’t for closure nor revenge that you hired me. For what reason did you let me keep the job then? Out of pity?’

‘No Narcissa. Out of understanding. I got a second chance when McGonagall saw my distress and decided to help me. You struggled as well after the war and I saw your need for help. I understood your desire for a new start. I guess I recognized myself in you and wanted to give you your second chance.’

Narcissa fought against her tears but failed as they ran down her cheeks. This was the second time the younger witch saw her cry! Just when Hermione was about to comfort her colleague, the clock in the kitchen chimed three times making Hermione jump up from her seat.

‘Merlin! Have we been talking for three hours? I’m really sorry to leave you in distress Narcissa, but would you mind terribly if I left you alone for the remainder of our workday? I have somewhere I need to be.’

‘No of course not! I’m not crying because I’m sad or unhappy Hermione. I’m touched by your kindness. So no need to worry! But promise me one thing.’

‘And that is?’

‘I still get to ask my third question.’

‘Which is?’

‘I’d like to know who helped you get back on your feet.’

‘Ah, my mystery friend! Well consider this a promise made: I will introduce you when the time is due. I’ll see you tomorrow at 9am sharp?’

Narcissa smiled and nodded as Hermione waved at her and let herself out. The older witch rose from her seat, asked Willy to make another cup of tea, and went back to work. She heard the front door close as Hermione left the house and apparated to her destination.

She remained in London but found herself in a less wealthy suburb where only muggles lived. As usual she had appeared behind some bushes and walked into the street. For a stranger’s eye, it would seem like she came from the park and took a shortcut to get home. The house she walked up to almost felt like a second home as she had spend many nights there trying to sort her life out.

It was the house of her mystery friend. The woman who spend hours and hours talking with Hermione. Just talking. She always refused to admit it but to Hermione it felt like she had saved her from insanity. Shaking the memories from her head, Hermione knocked on the door and laughed as she heard a little boy squeal in excitement.

‘Hello ‘Mione.’

‘Good afternoon Teddy,’ Hermione answered to the blue haired toddler who opened the door.

She lifted the boy, pressed a kiss to his cheek and carried him inside on her hip. Harry’s godson was a truly wonderful boy with a kind heart who inherited his mother Metamorphmagus abilities. They all knew he was a Hufflepuff through and through and his grandmother, who was a Slytherin, couldn’t be more proud for the boy reminded her so of her daughter who died fighting in the war.

‘Hello Hermione. I almost thought you’d forgotten our appointment.’

Where Hermione used to cringe when Bellatrix’s lookalike talked to her, she now smiled warmly at the witch in front of her. Because now she saw the differences instead of the similarities. She was a bit shorter, her hair was lighter and the curls not as wild and unkept. Her eyes weren’t as dark and cold as her sister’s and her smile was always warm.

‘Hello Andy. I’m sorry I’m late. Narcissa and I got lost in conversation.’

‘Ah yes, how is my little sister?’