Between Certifiable and Bliss

Chapter 7

At Hogwarts, Draco could admit he'd often wondered what it was like to be part of Potter's little gang.

He didn't think it involved this much research and paperwork.

He did think it would involve a swotty little overlord.

Because gods if Granger wasn't still so fucking annoying.

Everything had to be done by the book. Everything had to be checked not once, not twice, but thrice. Every affidavit, every statement, every bit of research or evidence copied in triplicate.

She had the audacity to give him a Merlin-damned schedule. Like he worked for her or something. Three days per week he'd Floo directly to her office and fold himself behind his designated research desk and read through the mountain of prison paperwork.

However, the more meticulous and studious side of Draco could appreciate this quality in Granger. Instead of barrelling into the prison, wands raised, demanding answers (Potter's chosen course of action if he had his way, Draco guessed), Granger would have everything done above board. On parchment at least. He'd remembered a fair few times at school when she'd employed her more cunning and cutthroat side to achieve her end goal. He wondered if Marietta Edgecombe still had the pustules on her forehead.

She made a show of introducing Draco to the little cadre of advocates and legal aides employed by the firm, giving him a far-too flattering introduction as a major benefactor behind the initiative and so interested in being hands-on he'd be personally working with her to ensure it got off the ground.

She had him greet every one of these bleeding-heart minions and Draco promptly forgot all of their names and faces.

Draco knew she had her own cases to work on in addition to this clandestine project, and so quelled the urge to interrupt her every few minutes. She had a rather important court appearance in the upcoming months—the parole eligibility hearing for Gregory Goyle.

Draco silently congratulated himself on this quiet peace that reigned in her office in the name of civility. He read through delivery reports, infirmary reports, redacted psychological evaluations, medical and potions supply lists, visitor logs, disciplinary records. Draco combed through them all separately; he'd begin cross-referencing once he had a better idea of how the information was organised and where he could sense discrepancies.

After two weeks of practically breathing down his neck and making sure he knew how to perform a simple Duplication Charm on any relevant notes, Draco finally snapped.

"Did you want to do this yourself?"

"I'm just making sure you have a proper organisational flow of the information."

"It is organised Granger, if one knows how to read."

"And have you made sure to—?"

"Yes, and if you ask me one more time whether I've made sure to keep the reports separated by type, I won't think twice about throwing a Slicing Hex at your hair."

She didn't respond to his childish threat but to narrow her eyes.

"This needs to be done right, Malfoy and I—"

"So trust me to do it right then! Actions over words, isn't that what you said on the first day?"

Spitting her own words back at her successfully shut her up. Draco filed away that observation.

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and let him carry on without interruption after that.

She would clear her throat and inquire about his tea preferences at exactly two points during the day and lunch at exactly 12:45.