Chapter Text
“Draco, did you see this?”
Hermione’s question echoed in the sparsely decorated office in the Muggleworthy Excuse Department. The blonde man in question was straightening his colourful bow tie in a small mirror.
“See what?”
“The front page of the Prophet. ”
“Not yet. You know I read the paper with my 10 am tea and not before,” Draco said, looking for her behind his own reflection.
“Yes, I know, pretty boy. I do so hate to break up your routine, but it might be worth looking at now. Everyone will see.”
“Give me the highlights then, Hermione.”
The smirk in his tone was evident. Gone were the days of him bullying and harassing her. Their friendship was slow to develop, but it ran deep now. They had seen each other through the rebuilding of the wizarding world. They graduated and had gotten jobs at the Ministry. When they saw that their desks were next to each other, they both realized that they would need to find a way to get along. And so they had at first forged an awkward alliance as the only two young people in their department. With the turning of seasons, the awkward conversation turned genuine. Hermione saw Draco for who he was, a changed man who was head over heels in love with Harry Potter. And Draco saw Hermione for her caustic wit and charming intelligence.
“Our government is apparently still struggling with reconciliation nearly a decade later.”
“That could not possibly be the news. I feel as though that is well known,” he said turning sideways and ensuring the perfect tuck of his shirt into his pants.
“Obviously.” Hermione rolled her eyes. “But its a near thing, they are proposing a scheme under which those who are still on the reforming list and unattached must enter or attempt to enter formal courting with someone who is not on the list. Apparently choosing someone who is half blooded or muggleborn could have them removed from the list entirely.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Draco moved quickly to her side and peered over her shoulder.
“Is this even legal,” he asked.
“It… it seems to be.”
The implications for Hermione were starting to sink in. As a famous single muggleborn she was bound to be the focus of quite a bit of attention.
“Have you ever considered starting a security business, Draco?”
“No, I haven’t. Oddly, having just gotten off that list I don’t think I would be authorized. But as your friend, I promise I will chase off as many suitors as you need me to. Of any gender.”
The last sentence rushed out of his mouth, because as much as they had talked about his preferences, Draco had no idea if Hermione fancied anyone.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, before relaxing fractionally.
“I am not opposed to… romance. I am just extremely picky. Those I am interested in most, do not seem to notice me.”
Hermione shrugged ready for the conversation to move on.
“Oh Granger, I find it hard to believe that there are many in our world that don’t notice you. Perhaps you and I should have a nice drink this evening. This seems like a very important and very private conversation. I can get us an exclusive table at the bar I’ve been dying to take you to.”
Hermione sighed and weighed her options. She was under no false illusions. She would be bombarded with offers, some of them even might be quite desperate. She needed a plan and all the friends she could get.
“Fine, Draco. But I won’t stay for more than two drinks. And there had better be snacks.”
Draco laughed happily and clapped his hands.
Walking into the bar, Hermione had to admit that Draco had taste. She could already tell that she was going to like it. Damn him.
She found him tucked away in a very private corner with two drinks and accompanying snacks already on the table.
“Well, hello there Miss Granger.”
He stood gallantly and Hermione could not fight back the smile.
“Mister Malfoy. This is lovely.”
“I knew you would like it,” he said triumphantly. “Please, join me. I feel we have a rather lot to discuss, judging by the number of owls that came by the department only today.”
Hermione flushed red. It had been fucking embarrassing to have all of her colleagues witness the parade of owls. She hadn’t opened a single letter. She knew it was possible that there was some legitimate personal correspondence lost in the stack. She knew she would have to find the emotional energy to sort through it and she suspected that it would not be a one time occurrence.
She settled into the seat.
“Gloat all you need to, Draco. So long as you want to help me, I will try to keep from complaining.”
She paused to take a sip of her drink.
“Oh, this is wonderful.”
“I am very glad you like it. It will make this evening much easier.”
“Tell me it is NOT Dragon’s Blood,” Hermione blurted.
“No. No, of course not. I would never….”
Hermione smiled at him.
“Ah, I see what is going on here. You are taking the piss out of me. I am scandalized ,” he said dramatically. “So tell me, Hermione, have you gotten many letters today?”
She smacked his shoulder.
“I’ve been afraid to count. Draco, this is a nightmare. While I have been thinking about maybe considering dating, courting with government oversight is not my idea of an aphrodisiac.”
“You might be surprised by how charming courting can be. Endearing missives, family dinners, ritual trinkets. It can be quite magical.”
Hermione nodded.
“That does sound nice. But only if it is someone you are interested in,” she snarked.
Draco chuckled.
“Yes, I imagine that does make a difference,” Hermione replied evasively.
“This is not the time to be overly modest, Hermione. Now would be the ideal time to spill your preferences so that I can help you sort through this mess.”
“I’m not talking without snacks,” she answered petulantly, which made Draco laugh.
“Very well. Food and another round of drinks. But then you will tell me what you would consider in a partner.”
Hermione nodded, happy to have grabbed a few more minutes to put her thoughts together. She reminders herself that this was her best friend, Draco. The kind man who wanted nothing more than for her to be as happy as he was. A man who faced considerable descrimination for his past and for who he loved. No one could possibly be more compassionate of a listener.
“To be totally honest, Draco, I’ve never discussed this with anyone,” Hermione started after having eaten a few chips.
“So I had gathered.”
“Meaning you already pumped Harry for information,” she said knowingly.
“He was useless. Thank goodness he is so hot, otherwise what use would I have for him?!”
Hermione laughed.
“Fine, Draco. Fine. I will put you out of your misery. I prefer witches.”
“Yes,” the blonde man hissed. “I fucking knew it. Harry has to do dishes for a month.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. It was just like the boys to be irrationally competitive about her dating preferences.
“Surely there are many witches who have shown interest in you,” he half said half asked.
“There have been a fair number,” she admitted quietly. “And I am not entirely without experience. It’s just been a very long time since someone was of enough interest to bother.”
“I see. Well what would you want? Someone intelligent, I imagine.”
“Yes. I would want someone interested in advanced magic and learning. Someone who is not naive and understands the world. I’ve seen too much to be bothered with someone who still has rose colored glasses on.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Draco raised his glass and took a sip before continuing. “So someone accomplished and likely our age or perhaps older to account for maturity. Is there an upper age limit?”
Hermione thought carefully.
“Younger than Professor McGonagall would be ideal, but aside from that I am more interested in the witch than her age.”
“Ah ha! So you are interested!”
Hermione flushed.
“I have been thinking lately about perhaps not being alone. But it likely would have taken a much longer time for me to have done something about it.”
Draco nodded.
“Any strong preferences on looks?”
Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Not really. I do like a witch who is put together and has self confidence.”
“So what I am hearing is that you are going to be very picky,” Draco teased.
“Order me another drink, Malfoy. And let’s discuss how to handle the obscene amount of mail that I have already received.”
The blonde tilted his head and looked at her contemplatively.
“I’ll do you one better. Come back to mine and I’ll make you that drink. I know Harry would want to help. And you can always crash if it gets late.”
Hermione wasn’t the biggest fan of sleeping anywhere but in her own bed, but this was not an ordinary situation.
“Alright. Fine. But we both have to work tomorrow so nothing too crazy is going to happen,” she said sternly.
“Of course not,” he affected innocence somewhat badly. “Let’s go.”
Draco had dropped far more money than required for the bill and was already gathering his things. Hermione did her best to keep up with his speed.
“You did bring the letters, didn’t you?”
Hermione nodded. Leaving them in her office at work had seemed rather inappropriate, particularly since she wasn’t clear on what would be in the letters.
She was grateful they were both sober enough to travel via floo to his flat. And it was impossible not to feel happier in the warmth of his and Harry’s home.
“Mione,” Harry said cheerfully, giving her a tight hug. “How are you holding up?”
She took a deep breath.
“Better than expected. But this is a hell of a situation. I thought we would be past the magical insanity and this point.”
“Not a chance,” Draco chimed in. “But on the bright side, we might as well have a bit of fun going through all of the courting proposals.”
“But first, a round of drinks. I have some snacks already out. Darling, would you mind telling Hermione about the rituals?”
Hermione took her drink and then looked at him expectantly.
“It would be my pleasure.”
Hermione thought that Draco looks as wistful as she had ever seen him. It wasn’t hard to understand why The Chosen One would be utterly in love with him.
“As you have likely already noticed, the opening salvo is a letter. But these are not just any letters. A traditional courting letter must above all be anonymous. If it is clear who wrote it, you should throw it out immediately as they are not trying hard enough. The goal of the writer is to prove that firstly they understand, admire, and respect you. Secondly, they should make their case for why they are the best potential match.”
“Wait, are you telling me all of these letters are unsigned?”
Hermione choked on the question.
“Yes, it’s terribly romantic.”
“Or weird,” Hermione said before downing her drink. “What happens next?”
“You choose a selection. I would suggest no more than 5. And you respond with questions, poetry, or other things.”
“How will my letters know where to go,” Hermione asked skeptically.
“Each letter contains a spelled paper for you to reply on. Any magical animal will know where to take it.”
“Can I use a tracing spell on it?”
“Hermione!”
Draco was clearly getting exasperated.
“I understand your concerns for safety,” Harry interceded. “I believe that a family member.” He pointed at himself. “Can do so on your behalf.”
“Yes, quite right. And very sensible,” Draco agreed. “We can certainly do so on your behalf. Its very traditional for your family to help sort through the early rounds of suitors. After the letters, you will further narrow to 3 at most. You will agree to attend a formal dinner. Both you and the suitor will be accompanied by a family member.”
Hermione didn’t say anything, because it was almost too much to process.
“Then,” Draco continued, “you will continue writing letters, exchanging small gifts, and sharing meals. Naturally, you will part ways with the suitors until it becomes apparent who is the best match. Then your families will negotiate a union.”
“I cannot believe that Kingsley put this legislation in place,” Hermione finally said.
“But Hermione,” Draco leaned forward to make his case, “traditional dating hasn’t worked for you? Why not try this? Harry and I will happily act as your family, which means we can decline matches on your behalf.”
She looked between their two earnest faces, doing her best to remember how much they loved her and that they simply wanted her to be happy.
“Ok. I promise we can go through the letters. If, and I do mean if, there is anyone remotely interesting, I will consider replying.”
“Excellent.” Draco clapped and rubbed his hands together. “This is going to be so much fun.”
“Let me get you another drink,” Harry offered. “And please, do eat. Also drink water while I am gone. It is a work day tomorrow.”
“We might be finished going through them by then,” Hermione snarked. “But seriously, I am not kidding, there must be at least 50.”
“Anyone who is worth even considering will already be in that stack,” Draco said as she pulled them from her bag. “This is kind of magical, isn’t it? The love of your life might be in that stack.”
Hermione did not manage to restrain her laughter.
“Oh yes, Hermione. You laugh now. You won’t be laughing when I am right.”
“Stop bickering, children,” Harry said, handing them each a drink. “And show me the letters. Let’s get going.”
Hermione drew out her wand and magically removed them from her purse and stacked them on the table in front of all of them. Draco reached for them eagerly and started dividing them into 3 equal stacks.
“Now, Harry the handwriting is going to be important. Our girl, Hermione here, has a penchant for the fairer sex. Any handwriting presumed to be male, should be put in the pile for Hermione to do a final decision to reject.”
“Yes, my love,” Harry said patiently, “Let’s see if we can find a powerful older woman in this pile.”
Hermione turned a shade of red that Draco had not yet seen.
“Oh… I see. So you do have a type?”
“Maybe,” she said, not looking up from her pile of letters.
As the clock was about to hit midnight, there was a sizable stack of rejections. Hermione was looking through them one final time. She had only chosen four so far and wanted to make sure to have the five that Draco had recommended. She was nearly done, when she picked up a letter that she knew she had looked at several times already. It had been initially dismissed due to the slightly messy handwriting being categorized as masculine. But there was something about it, that Hermione just couldn’t let go. She liked that they too were invested in working in the Ministry.
“Are you going to keep that one,” Draco said sleepily.
“I think I am. What does that leave us with… a Ministry worker, a potioneer, a herbologist, an arithmancer, and an astronomer.”
“It's a fairly ambitious list,” Harry said approvingly.
“Would you expect anything less?”
Hermione swatted Draco on the shoulder for the jab.
“So now I just need to respond to each of these letters,” she asked earnestly.
“Yes, but there is a particular style and we are too tired tonight.”
“How about I cook dinner tomorrow and we can spend the evening sending out responses,” Harry offered.
“Will you make your famous lasagna,” Hermione asked hopefully.
“I will,” Harry promised. “And breadsticks.” He looked affectionately at Draco, who beamed in response.
“Off to bed. We need our beauty sleep after all.”
Hermione agreed. She was beyond exhausted physically and emotionally. She knew she would be out as soon as her head hit the pillow. She could only hope that tomorrow offered less excitement.