Chaper 4: Of Friendship and Ferrets

Author's Note: Millions of thanks to my original beta reader, who helped me tremendously, and to my new beta reader, whose gentle criticism and enthusiasm inspire me to do better. I appreciate the comments and support of everyone who took the time to read and review my story. Your generosity and kindness are amazing!

Disclaimer: The characters you recognize belong to the brilliant J. K. Rowling; I owe her an immeasurable debt of gratitude for her creation, a new kind of Camelot.

Chapter Four: Of Friendship and Ferrets

Office of the Deputy Headmistress, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogsmeade, Scotland

Hermione Granger-Weasley stepped out of the fireplace into her own office at Hogwarts. There, head thrown back against the cushions and sound asleep, she saw Draco Malfoy. In sleep, fine blond hair disarranged he looked very young, and Hermione remembered a certain white ferret with a fond smile. She looked at him sleeping peacefully, and for just one moment she thought longingly of following his example. She was exhausted and wanted a private corner to crawl into; a place where she could mourn the loss of her friend and have a good cry. It would be so lovely to go to sleep right now and not wake up till the funeral was past, and her grief had lost its sharp edge.

Sighing, she took off her cloak and hung it up, then called for Kreacher, who appeared only a moment later.

"Mistress called for Kreacher, what does Mistress want?" he asked, with a funny bob that was all he could manage of a bow.

"Good evening, Kreacher. I would like a cup of hot cocoa, please? And can you bring up tea, sandwiches, and cakes for Mr. Malfoy?"

The little old house elf bowed again and vanished with a soft POP. Hermione went over to Draco.

In public Madam Hermione Granger-Weasley would be very formal when addressing Chairman Draco Malfoy, of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. In private Hermione Granger, who'd known Draco Malfoy since First Year at Hogwarts, could be a great deal more informal.

She flopped down on the couch next to Draco, nudged him in the shoulder with her hand and whispered, "Oi, Ferret, wake up."

Draco shuddered awake with a sneer that belied the suspicious twinkle in his eye and shot back, "What do know-it-alls want?"

"Only to speak to you, then I shall consider my life's purpose fulfilled." She watched for his reaction, then smiled as he rolled his eyes and made a horrible face at her.

"I sincerely hope you do not mean that, Granger. It will destroy the positive opinion of you that I have somehow managed to acquire."

She chuckled. "You've grown up nicely, Malfoy. I never thought I would see the day when you and I would have a civil conversation, much less be able to work together as well as we have."

"I can say the same, Granger. We do work well together. How did things go in London?" As he spoke, he was sitting up straight on the sofa and looking around, clearly surprised at the lateness of the hour.

Hermione told Draco about her meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt and the arrangements for the memorial service. Draco nodded, listening while he helped himself to tea and food when Kreacher brought it in.

"So Friday we'll pay our respects at the Ministry, and Saturday is the service here. Right, Granger, that'll do. How was Kingsley?"

"Sad, as we all are. Not surprised, though. I don't think anybody was really surprised. Kingsley was very supportive, which is his specialty. He fed me High Tea and let me cry, then very efficiently organized the services just as Minerva would have approved. It's really quite nice to have a competent Minister of Magic."

Draco nodded his head, but then changed the subject, his fair brows drawing together in a frown.

"How's Weasel, and where are he and Potter? I would have expected them to be here with you every minute."

"Ron's in Ireland with the Team; he plans to be here tomorrow morning. Trouble with the Floo connection from Ireland to here. They are sending someone out to the training camp to fix it but not till tomorrow. Harry's been teaching all day, as we thought it best not to disrupt the pupil's routines any more than we had to. I shall have to make an announcement at dinner tonight though. Or you could do it. Are you staying for the evening meal?"

She looked hopefully at Draco, and he backed away.

"I plan to stay, but they'll take that sort of announcement MUCH better from you."

She gave him her patented Basilisk stare, but Draco was immune to anything short of a punch in the nose from Hermione. He had been on the receiving end of her glares, hexes, sarcasm, and the aforementioned punch in the nose when they had been schoolmates, and he could testify truthfully that the punch had been the worst.

Now he smiled at her and patted her hand.

"Bear up, sweetie pie. A woman does these little jobs ever so much better than a man can." Being Draco, he spoke as condescendingly as possible, if only to tease a reaction out of her. He had felt suspiciously near tears all day himself; he needed to make Hermione mad, or at least annoy her, so they didn't both break down and cry. When he saw the temper flare in her eyes he allowed himself a genuine smile and spoke encouragingly.

"There's a good girl. Potty and I will be at dinner to support you, and you've the rest of the staff as well. You'll do fine, Granger."

"Don't call him Potty." She spoke crossly. "You make him sound like a potty old geezer."

"Ah, but he already ACTS like a potty old geezer." Draco grinned unrepentantly at her. A visit with Hermione wasn't complete until he had teased her about Potter. Satisfied with his efforts, he picked up another cucumber sandwich and was about to bite into it when he saw her draw in a deep breath. Her anxious question came out in a rush of words.

"Has the Board reached a decision about a new Head of School?"

How fun it would be to torture her, but Draco had matured and knew that grown-ups did not do that sort of thing. He said casually, "Yes, they have, actually." He paused, but gave her a warm, genuine smile. "By unanimous vote, Hermione, they want you to be the new Headmistress. The contract will arrive tomorrow. I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk about that tonight, though."

She sagged in the sofa, resting her head against the back and closing her eyes for a moment. When she sat up a moment later, she patted his hand and whispered, "Thank you for telling me, Draco. I'm very grateful."

"You're the obvious choice, Granger. You've done us all proud, though you won't catch me saying that often in public. It would never do for a Slytherin such as me to offer too much praise to a Gryffindor."

"No, that would never do," she agreed with a smile. "I'll read the contract before I sign it, but just between us, I am grateful to accept. Please convey to the Board that I am honored by their confidence in me."

A comfortable silence fell over the office as they ate sandwiches and drank their tea and cocoa. About midway through the impromptu meal, Hermione looked around at her small office and realized that she would have to move into Minerva's office at some point. She had a sinking feeling that all of her things plus all of Minerva's knick-knacks, plus all of Albus's fascinating gadgets would make for a very crowded, cluttered office. Where would she find the time to clean out two offices, on top of all her other duties?

"Will I need to get permission beforehand to make some changes in the Head's Office?"

Draco chuckled lazily and remarked, "Father always said it was easier to get forgiveness than permission, and I think he's right about that. What sort of changes? As a rule, the board doesn't interfere much with what the Head of House wants to do."

"It's just that Minerva kept all of Albus's gadgets, and I can't walk round that office without feeling like I'm going to break something."

"Oh, that sort of thing is always left to the Head of House. Don't hold a jumble sale or throw it away, of course. Don't chuck it in the Room of Hidden Things, no matter how great the temptation."

"I wouldn't dare throw out anything; I've no idea what most of those things are. To say nothing of what they might do in the hands of a curious first year. I just want to put them away someplace safe that's not underfoot."

She glanced appraisingly around the room again and Draco chuckled.

"Just can't wait to get into that bigger office, eh? I can see you're itching to get started. But do wait till Minerva's buried, there's a good girl."

"Draco!" She sounded so horrified that he had to laugh. "You horrible changeling!" Just then, the clock struck the half hour, and she hastily got to her feet.

"Come on, we need to get down to the Great Hall."

He took a last bite of sandwich and stood up beside her.

Much as she had done for Ron and Harry over the years, she adjusted his robes on his shoulders and straightened his tie, then reached into the breast pocket of his shirt and pulled out his comb. "Loo behind you to the right. You're sort of rumpled. I can't think why, you look as though you'd been sleeping."

"And they said you were no good at divination."

He ducked away from her swatting hand and made his way to the adjoining bath while Hermione crossed to her desk and pulled out a brush, mirror and pot of lip color. She took down her hair and brushed it briskly, then twisted it ruthlessly back into a knot at the nape of her neck. She examined her own face in the small mirror while applying the sheer, glossy color to her mouth. She did look rather red around the eyes, but she wouldn't frighten the children, she decided.

Draco re-joined her in the office. "Ready?"

She nodded, and they walked to the door together.

"Right then, we can do this."

"I'm here, Granger. But you go first."

Chuckling like the old friends they were, they left the office and made their way to the Great Hall.

Prompt Information

This story was written for the Potter Place Deathly Hallows Challenge.

My modifications: The story is written about a portrait and not a ghost. I only borrowed Hermione being in love with Severus from prompt 8.