The Silver Envelope

The Lift

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
The following Monday, Draco appeared in the entrance hall of the Ministry, the sound of his own apparition adding to the chorus of sharp pops and cracks echoing through the gigantic space.
Droves of Ministry workers, bleary-eyed and dressed in dull robes, shuffled their way to the security checkpoint as one. Pulled along with them, Draco kept his hand on his wand, his shoulders tense. He hated feeling crowded by strangers- but today, it was much worse. He felt eyes on him as he walked. Holding back a scowl, he attempted to ignore the people staring at him.
It took him a bit longer to make it to the hall of lifts, as the line through security was held up by a wizard who seemed to have taken his wife's wand that morning by accident. By the time Draco
made it into a crowded lift and reached around someone to shove the number nine button, he was five minutes late. He waited as every other person on the lift exited on their respective floors, checking his silver watch between each stop. Again, he felt people peeking at him, and it made him grit his teeth. Finally, the last remaining person, a woman in bright purple robes who had been not-so-covertly staring at him, got off, and the golden grate shuddered closed. Glad to be away from prying eyes, Draco heaved a sigh and waited for the loud lift to descend all the way to the basement.
"Level Nine. Department of Mysteries," the lift said.
Draco strode through the gate and down the hallway, pausing only to open the plain black door at the end.
Though Draco had been in this room many times before, the place never ceased to impress him.
He took in glass vessels full of bubbling liquids, twisting tubes tangling around various strange equipment, bookshelves stuffed with dusty tomes and crisp texts alike, and gigantic barrels in long rows leading back to unknown depths of the enormous room. Draco had been consulting for the Ministry for two years now, but he had to admit that he knew about only a fraction of what went on in this room, and knew absolutely nothing about the rest of the Department.
Mr. Malfoy!" John said, greeting him with a smile.
John, whose surname was unknown to Draco, was a tall fellow with flyaway gray hair and very large spectacles around his eyes. He was one of the only people Draco actually knew from the Department of Mysteries. Most of the other Unspeakables kept their masks on. Draco didn't like to look at the others much. It reminded him a bit of the masked Death Eaters whose presence he'd constantly had to endure those years his family's home had been a meeting place for them.
"Morning," Draco returned.
He lifted his briefcase onto a sterile workbench and opened it up for John to take a look. Rows of vials, corked tightly and strapped to each side of the case, gleamed from the inside of it. Several of Draco's experiments had been somewhat promising, but most of them had been utter failures. That was fine, he reasoned. With alchemy, it was just as important to document what didn't work as much as what did.
"Here's the full report," Draco said, producing a thick stack of parchment from an inner pocket of
the briefcase. "I've summarized my findings on the first few pages. I believe I got closest with experiment eighteen in this round."
John raised his glasses to his forehead as he leaned in to examine the bottles, frowning in concentration.
"Very good, Mr. Malfoy. Yes, I see eighteen is coming along." He straightened and flipped through Draco's report, checking to make sure everything was in order.
While he read, Draco made his way to the bookshelves. There were several titles he'd wanted to borrow before his next round of experiments, including one about Nicholas Flamel he'd been waiting for. He began pulling out several books when John stopped him.
"Oh, just make a list this time, Malfoy. I'll send them all over with a courier, along with the materials you'll need for your next round. Easier that way," John said.
Draco nodded, conjuring a small piece of parchment for the list. He was there for a while, answering John's questions and adding items to his list. Other Unspeakables came and went, exchanging books from the shelves or speaking briefly with John.
Draco was very glad he was only a consultant. He would hate to work every day in a place like this. The laboratory he'd set up in his study at home was far preferable.
"Well, Mr. Malfoy! I guess I'll see you in three weeks or so," John said by way of farewell.
Draco gave him a sharp nod.
"Yes, sir. I look forward to it."
He turned to leave, but John stopped him again.
"Oh, er, Malfoy, there's one other thing I wanted to talk with you about," John said, sounding
hesitant
Draco raised a brow when John produced a folded newspaper from a pocket inside his robes.
"AFFAIR COMES TO LIGHT AT CHARITY BALL," read the headline. Below, a picture of him placing a sparkling necklace around Hermione's neck had been placed prominently. It was all Draco could do not to growl at the sight.
"I'm sure it's nothing, Malfoy, but you know I have to make sure," John said, wincing. "Protocol, and all that. Are you, er, involved with Ms. Granger, then?"
Draco unclenched his teeth to answer.
"Not really," he clipped out, badly attempting to conceal his feelings.
"I see," John mused, looking at the paper again. "Well, I'm sure you remember, but I have to remind you anyway. If you do get involved with Ms. Granger, make sure she won't have access to your laboratory, and do not give her any details about your work. She doesn't have the clearance level necessary to know."
In truth, Draco thought that telling Hermione about his work would probably result in nothing more than some excellent advice for his next round of experiments, but Draco held his tongue. It was protocol, and he was too attached to his work to ruin the opportunity to use the Ministry's resources.