Project 137.43.M.D.

XIV. | CULPA

XIV.
CULPA
(guilt)

"The Ministry is really overdoing it."

Draco stretched out his legs (the hard plastic chairs were an imposition) and let his eyes wander sullenly over the other witches and wizards, who were waiting their turn just as impatiently as he was.

"It's part of the concept they worked out after the new government took office. Stop being so whiny, Malfoy."

Granger's rebuke didn't surprise him, as she had been quite snappy ever since they had eaten together in the little diner. Well, maybe he deserved it, because he had really overdone it, too. Even the moment he had said it, he had known it was inappropriate to react so suggestively to her words, but the situation had just been too tempting. Now he was obviously paying the price. Draco supposed he would have to be more careful today.

"What exactly are we waiting for again?" he asked in a decidedly indifferent tone.

If Granger wanted to play the bitch for a while, then so be it. In the end, that would only be exhausting for her, not for him. He didn't give a fuck, honestly.

"We're here to apply for your identity papers and to organise everything for the release of your inheritance. The formalities usually take a few weeks. The earlier the application, the faster the Galleons."

She gave him a haughty look that was most likely a reminder that it would be quite a while before he would regain his independence and that he would have to rely on her until then.

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Identity papers," he sneered. "What bureaucratic shite. Why do we even need them? We're not Muggles!"

"That's exactly why we need them," Granger lectured him. "We live in a magical society full of Glamour Charms and Muggle clothing, Malfoy. It makes life a lot easier for the authorities if everyone has identity papers, believe me."

Gods, she was so self-righteous. Apparently, she just couldn't stop rubbing in his face that she had the answer to everything, whereas he knew absolutely nothing about this new world he'd woken up in a few weeks ago.

"Whatever you say," he drawled, whereupon the conversation fizzled out.

Thank Merlin, it only took a few more minutes before Draco was called up. He rose from his chair and followed Granger into a small office where a weary-looking Ministry official sat at a desk littered with parchments and memos. The bald wizard didn't even look up as they entered the room.

"What can I do for you today?" he asked monotonously.

"We'd like to apply for my client's identity papers and certificate of inheritance."

Granger's tone was professional as she pulled a manila folder, presumably containing her guardianship deed, from her satchel. Draco crossed his arms and let her do her work.

"Surname?" the man asked, reaching blindly for the folder Granger eagerly handed him.

"Malfoy, Draco."

At that, the official looked up and hastily adjusted his glasses. Something about the expression on the wizard's face as he scrutinised him struck Draco as odd. But only a few seconds later, the man regained his composure and turned round in his chair to open the centre drawer of a large filing cabinet.

"Date of birth?"

"5th June 1980."

This time, Draco beat Granger to it. He felt her stiffen next to him, but studiously ignored it. The shock served her right.