Project 137.43.M.D.

LXV. | EX POST

LXV.
EX POST
(retrospectively)

Draco sauntered through the corridors of the Ministry of Magic as if it weren't a problem at all. As if it were nothing. As if he were just one of countless wizards who had some boring, bureaucratic crap to handle here today.

Inside of him, however, things looked a little different. He hadn't set foot in the Ministry since testifying at his own retrial. Everything that had to be taken care of he had either done from afar or offloaded onto Blaise, which his friend had grudgingly but nonetheless sympathetically accepted. But today, after realizing in how many ways he had fucked up, there was just no getting around it. (Well, theoretically he could have waited until evening, but he hadn't trusted his own courage.)

Ginny Potter hadn't been mad at him. Rather, she had given him a look that might have rivaled that of a disappointed mother who had been presented with a Transfiguration O.W.L marked with a big, fat Dreadful. A raised eyebrow and a pursing of her lips later, she had been gone, leaving him alone with his drunken, ashamed thoughts. After that the party had been over for Draco as well and he had left the sports bar pretty quickly.

This morning, he had gotten his twofold comeuppance for the mistake he had made the night before, waking up with a bad hangover and an even worse conscience. He had taken a headache potion, shirked the decision for at least three more hours, and finally gone jogging to feel a little better - and ready for whatever he was about to do.

Now, freshly showered, he stood in front of the office he hadn't yet known existed, staring in bewilderment at the brass plaque that had been affixed to the wall next to the door. He was in the corridor of the Office for Social Adjustment and Rehabilitation, he was absolutely sure of that. The reception witch's directions had been pretty clear. But until now he hadn't known about the sub-department represented by the shiny plaque.

Magical Legal Counseling and Criminal Defense
Hermione Granger

Well, that was new, even though it made perfect sense. After all he knew how fiercely she had fought for him. How eagerly she had thrown herself into the retrial and how many books and files she had pored over beforehand. It had probably always been in her, considering that even in her Hogwarts days she had defended the weaker like a fury. House elves for example.

Suddenly, there was a warm feeling in Draco's chest.

Before he could change his mind and chicken out, he raised his hand and knocked.

The "Come in!" sounded almost immediately and he took another deep breath before finally opening the door to the small office and stepping over the threshold.

There she sat. Her curls were pinned up in a messy bun on top of her head through which she had pushed her wand. Her blouse was a little wrinkled and tucked into a dark gray pencil skirt. She held a quill, the end of which she tapped against her lips as she frowned at the parchment on the desk in front of her. Then she raised her head and her gaze darkened abruptly.

"Oh," wasn't exactly the greeting Draco had been hoping for, but it was the one he got.

He closed the door and came to a halt in the middle of the room, somewhat disoriented. Hermione tapped the parchment nervously with her quill and eyed him indecisively.

"What do you want?" she asked at length.

Draco sighed. This was obviously one of her signature defensive reactions, and the best way to deal with it was (as he knew) ignorance.

"So you're now... something of a lawyer?" he asked, pretending to be smarter than he really was, having in truth only picked up the term from Blaise.If you had had a lawyer back then none of this would have happened. Lawyer, advocate, criminal attorney, whatever.