Project 137.43.M.D.

VI. | PRIMA FACIE

VI.
PRIMA FACIE
(at first sight)

To say she was nervous would have been an understatement.

Ever since she had opened her eyes this morning, her stomach had been so unsettled that she hadn't been able to down anything apart from her usual cup of black coffee. The whole situation had literally spoilt her appetite.

Hermione glanced at the large clock on the wall that showed the time to those waiting in the foyer of St Mungo's Hospital. As always, she had been a few minutes early, but now he was already a few minutes late. It was so fucking annoying. She just wanted to get it over with.

It was mid-morning, so she had long since finished her report on Inmate 43.M.D.'s satisfactory Memory Modification. She had dropped it into the Wizengamot's inbox and then spent some time at her desk in the OSAR. In addition to her latest project, there were a few smaller cases that she had to work on more or less intensively. She had distracted herself with these until it had been time to make her way to the hospital.

She was just about to get up and ask the young witch at the reception desk about Malfoy's discharge when the lift doors opened and she realised that it would no longer be necessary. Because there he stood — right in front of the lift, his brow furrowed slightly as he slowly let his eyes wander over the crowd of witches and wizards sitting in the waiting area or bustling through the corridors.

Hermione had been right about at least one thing: Malfoy's hair was now clean and freshly cut. White-blond and casual, it fell across his forehead. As protocol dictated, he had also been dressed in simple everyday clothes. In addition to black denims, he was now wearing a white T-shirt, an anthracite-coloured pullover jacket and black trainers. Although Hermione was sure that clothes had been chosen to match his dress size, Malfoy seemed to disappear in them. He wasn't just thin, he was downright emaciated, she realised again.

After watching him furtively for a while, she decided to put him out of his misery and jumped to her feet.

"Malfoy," she called out, raising a hand in greeting.

When his eyes instantly flicked to her and narrowed in response, she suddenly felt rather silly.

He gave her a curt nod.

"Granger."

They took a few steps towards each other, sizing each other up.

"Where did you leave your ladies' suit?" Malfoy asked as his gaze roamed slowly down her body.

Hermione had to stop herself from clicking her tongue in annoyance. Once again, Malfoy made her feel like he had long since figured her out, because she had put on the trouser suit he was referring to for one reason and one reason only: to feel more secure and confident during their very first meeting.

Bugger, he got her pulse racing in an instant, even though she'd been determined to let every single word he'd say that morning roll off her back.

"Wasn't necessary today," she replied tersely and turned on her heel, signalling for him to follow her with a quick wave of her hand.

To her surprise, Malfoy seemed to have started moving immediately, because as she left St Mungo's through the visitors' entrance towards Muggle London and stepped out onto the busy pavement into the bright morning sun, it only took a few seconds for him to be at her side.

Squinting against the sunlight, Malfoy tilted his head back and took a deep breath through his nose. Apparently, his body instinctively knew that he was feeling sunbeams on his skin for the first time in over a decade. Hermione watched him curiously until she realised what she was doing. She quickly cleared her throat and began to speak.