Chapter Text
“You want me to do what?”
Hermione couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice. When she’d received an owl that morning from Kingsley asking her if she had time for a rather impromptu meeting, Hermione’s mind had come up with the craziest scenarios. But none of them matched the one the Minister of Magic had just presented to her. She scoffed and leaned back in her chair, the cup of tea remaining untouched in front of her.
“I know,” Kingsley held up his hands in acquiescence. “But I really see no other way to handle this situation.”
“I see several other ways. Why don’t you just ask her?”
“We tried. Miss Black is very… unwilling to participate in this research.”
“She has a right to be unwilling. Why is her case even being reopened? I thought she was cleared of all charges?”
It was true. After the war, there had been mass trials at the same time the Wizarding World had to reinvent itself. New regulations came in place, improved relationships with muggles, different ways of education, more animal rights. Overall, a less black and white view of the world. And with it, forgiveness for those who had been led astray by Voldemort. A good chunk of his followers ended up in Azkaban, of course. But apart from the inner core of Death Eaters, most witches and wizards had been redeemed.
It had taken a while for the Wizarding community to find peace in that. Even for Hermione, who’d advocated for better living circumstances at Azkaban, it had been difficult to see the people in public who’d sneered at her bloodstatus. But she’d seen them try to make amends and be a part of society again so who was she to deny them that? She’d even talked to Narcissa Black, accepted the witch’s apologies, and moved on with her life. The scar on her arm no longer there to remind her of the past.
“She was, but someone has asked to reinvestigate.”
Hermione blinked. “Who?”
“I prefer not to tell you. Just to keep you as neutral as possible on the case.”
The case. Hermione scoffed again. She could see why Kingsley had come to her, that wasn’t the problem. He needed a female investigator and preferably someone who was as unbiased as possible towards Narcissa Black. Hermione was a perfect choice. There was no longer any animosity between them, nor was she friendly towards the blonde. Their interactions strictly limited themselves to a polite nod when they ran into each other in the Ministry hallways.
Additionally, Hermione functioned as the Ministry’s problem solver since she’d been working as the Logistical Auditor for Magical Efficiency for a few years now. The fact that her title spelled LAME had caused some hilarity among her friends who vividly remembered Hermione’s SPEW days, but the job itself was a blast. Hermione spent her days eliminating excessive administration, simplifying processes, and modernizing archaic laws and customs. She had access to all Departments and was often summoned as a mediator when things got heated between colleagues. They always involved her when new decisions or laws were implemented to look at the long-term effects or to decide on sanctions when people overstepped.
It was her dream job. Not only had Hermione managed to ensure magical animal rights were improved, she also managed to turn Azkaban into an actual prison rather than a hellhole where people just rotted away. The Wizengamot had sped up their handling of cases by three weeks thanks to Hermione getting rid of their old filing system and St. Mungo’s was no longer underfunded because she’d reassigned the budgets.
But this? This was something Herimone had never expected to be part of her job. Apparently, Narcissa - who’d been working for the Department of Mysteries - was up for a promotion and someone had raised objections against it. The objections were valid, but the problem was that they weren’t based on proof. And thus, Kingsley had no way of demanding Narcissa’s cooperation and the witch refused to do it willingly. It wasn’t the first time Hermione was asked to find proof to see if accusations were solid, but usually her assignments were a bit more… tangible.
“So, you want me to follow Narcissa around and find out whether the rumors about her Legilimency skills are true?”
Kingsley grimaced a little. “You can understand why it’s a delicate matter. If she’s truly as powerful as claimed by our anonymous complainer, then I’m not sure if I can permit her to become an Unspeakable and replace the Head of the Department after a trial period.”
“How powerful are we speaking of?”
“According to this person, Miss Black is a born Legilimens. Everybody has the ability to learn Legilimency, but there’s wandwork required, eye contact, and the person whose mind is being invaded is aware of the reader’s presence. A born Legilimens is rare. They can read minds without any eye contact. They don’t need their wand or a spell to do it. And most importantly, they can do it unnoticed.”
Hermione reached for her tea and sipped it, wincing when she discovered her brew had gone cold. “And I assume this wasn’t simply written down somewhere on a birth certificate?”
“These talents often manifest during childhood. And where a Metamorphmagus can’t hide their skills, Legilimens definitely can. It could compromise the entire Department’s integrity if I have someone walking around who can read all the other Unspeakable’s minds.”
“Fine,” Hermione relented after having put her teacup back on the saucer. “I will pretend to be auditing the efficiency of meetings in the Ministry and sit in on a few of hers. I’m sure it can’t be that hard to discover if she’s reading my mind or not.”
Kingsley nodded. “Thank you, Hermione. Of course, I don’t need to remind you that this case requires some discretion.”
***
Saul Croaker, the current Head of Department, hadn’t been very pleased to hear that Hermione would sit in on some meetings. But her function within the Ministry allowed it and he simply had to accept Kingsley’s decision in the matter. Hermione had reassured him of her confidentiality clause that didn’t allow her to disclose any information she heard that wasn’t relevant to her assignment. The old wizard had nodded at that before shuffling away. It was obvious that he was ready for his retirement so it was probably for the best Saul didn’t know Hermione might eliminate the candidate for his replacement.
She was sitting in the meeting room on the tenth floor that had been booked by a few members of the Department of Mysteries. Hermione had access to the entire itinerary of the Ministry and had arrived early. She was currently reading through a memo when the door of the meeting room opened and judging by the abrupt silence that followed, Hermione knew she hadn’t been expected.
“I’m assuming Saul forgot to mention my presence,” Hermione began while slowly looking up from her memo.
Her own voice faltered when her eyes met the blue ones of none other than Narcissa Black. Despite them being on normal terms, it was always a bit of a shock to see the abnormally pale hue of Narcissa’s irisses. It always reminded Hermione a little of that night in the Manor even when the trauma had healed. Narcissa looked well, Hermione noted. The blonde was clad in a burgundy skirt with a black blouse tucked into the waistband. Her staggeringly high heels were also black and she carried a black leather purse that had some parchment sticking out of the top.
She was entirely blonde these days and her hair fell just below her shoulder blades, sleek as ever. Narcissa would always be a pale woman, not even a five week vacation in the Bahamas could resolve that, but her skin wasn’t so gaunt anymore as during the war. It was clear she slept better, ate better, and no longer suffered from stress and fear. Hermione felt the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile before she could stop herself.
“Good afternoon, Miss Black.”
Narcissa seemed to jolt out of her stupor and let go of the doorhandle. “Good afternoon. Do we have a double booking?”
“Oh no, I’m sitting in on your meeting today. We’re trying to map the total amount of work hours spent in meetings, the efficiency of them, and possible ideas to increase productivity by decreasing time spent in rooms like these.”
The facial expression of the older woman remained impassive. Narcissa merely looked around the empty table before finding a chair as far away from Hermione as possible and sitting down. She reached for a folder in her purse and started skimming through it, clearly eager to have something to do that would allow her to ignore Hermione. The latter wondered why Narcissa was reluctant to talk to her. Perhaps her Pureblood-bias towards mudbloods was still a thing? It’s not because she didn’t want a war that she can’t think herself superior over me.
Narcissa frowned, but before Hermione could determine whether that was because she’d read her mind or because of what the woman was reading, the rest of the team entered the meeting room. They all seemed surprised to see Hermione who quickly repeated what she’d told Narcissa. She couldn’t even be annoyed at Saul. There was a high chance the man had just completely forgotten. There were rumors that his amnesia was starting to affect his work after all.
The meeting started a bit awkwardly since everybody was so self-aware of Hermione’s presence, but she kept quiet and soon the members of the Department of Mysteries had forgotten all about her. A tray of tea was summoned to the table and soon the entire surface was littered with papers. They were talking about the Unforgivable Curses and how outdated the list was. Hermione couldn’t help but nod at that. How was the Cruciatus curse worse than whatever spell Molly Weasley had used to turn Bellatrix into black confetti?
There was a strangled cough coming from the other side of the table and everybody looked to see Narcissa turn a little red in the face. She covered her mouth as she coughed a few times more and fanned at herself with her other hand. When she was somewhat recovered, she pointed at her tea and laughed but it sounded forced.
“I had reheated my tea but I made it too hot and burned my tongue.”
Her eyes accidentally met Hermione’s who squinted at the blonde, but Narcissa quickly turned away from her. Had it truly been an accident? It was so hard to tell. Hermione deliberately thought of Bellatrix’s demise again, feeling only a slight pang of guilt in trying to unmask Narcissa with images of her sister’s death. But no matter how many times she envisioned the cruel woman being blasted into smithereens, Narcissa remained focused on her colleagues.
Hermione wrote that down in her little notebook she’d purchased specifically for this case. Then she thought about the mudblood-scar on her arm and how extremely painful and invasive the treatment had been to get rid of it. She stared intently at Narcissa, eager to catch every change in the woman’s expression. But apart from a light twitch from her eyebrow - which could very well have been a microreaction to the dumb shit her colleague was saying - Narcissa gave no indication that she was reading Hermione’s mind.
Feeling a little relieved that she hadn’t elicited a reaction to images of blood and gore, Hermione let her eyes wander. She’d never paid much attention to Narcissa. When she was younger, the witch had simply been Malfoy’s mum and later, she’d been the enemy. Now they were both working for the Ministry and technically colleagues. Narcissa was twenty-five years Hermione’s elder. Or twenty-four if you counted her TimeTurner abuse that had aged her a year in advance of everyone else.
Suddenly Narcissa turned towards her, and for a second Hermione thought she’d proven that the Slytherin witch could indeed effortlessly read minds. But then Narcissa silenced her colleagues with a lazy wave of her hand and glared at Hermione who felt her spine go rigid in her chair.
“Yes?”
“What?” Hermione felt confused.
“You have been staring at me for the past,” Narcissa quickly glanced at her silver wristwatch, “thirteen minutes and it’s starting to make me uncomfortable. So unless you have something to say, I must ask you to focus on something else. The reason you’re here, perhaps.”
Hermione felt the roots of her hair turn red from the blush that colored her face. No proof of Legilimency whatsoever, just being caught staring. How embarrassing. She heard herself apologize and looked at her notebook again, feeling relieved when the team resumed their meeting. Clearly she needed to be more subtle about this. Besides, maybe staring intently at Narcissa made it easier for the woman to read her mind? Hermione had no idea. She would go to the library and read up about Legilimency as an inherited talent.
She wondered how she could check whether Narcissa was actually eavesdropping on her without looking at the woman’s face. Perhaps she needed to surprise the witch so much that she visibly startled? Hermione wrote down a few ideas when the scraping of chairs alerted her that the meeting was finished. She was just about to apologize again to Narcissa when she noticed the woman had already left the room.
“Ah, Miss Black already left?”
“She always grabs lunch downstairs,” one of the wizards said casually. “And she goes home early on Wednesdays.”
“Thank you.”
Hermione took the elevator to the Atrium, eager for another opportunity to talk to Narcissa when she spotted the blonde witch in line at the take-away food stall. It was insane how she managed to walk so elegantly in those heels. Hermione watched the witch for a little while, noticing how people always made room for Narcissa, but this time out of respect and not fear. A few people addressed the Slytherin woman and she seemed to be politely answering them. Up until now, Hermione had seen no proof that she wasn’t perfectly capable of becoming an Unspeakable.
Suddenly she had an idea. Hermione walked a little closer, pretending to be looking at the memo-board and focused all her thoughts on Narcissa. She screamed the woman’s name in her mind. Further away, Narcissa almost dropped her purse. Hermione grinned, thinking she’d won, when a nearby wizard laughed and approached Narcissa who was clutching at her heart. Hermione ventured closer, catching fragments of their conversation.
“... hadn’t seen you, Atticus. I’m so sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have shouted. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“How have you been? And the childr-”
Hermione walked past them until she was out of earshot. Blast. Narcissa had only reacted to Atticus and not her silent scream. She suddenly didn’t feel like staying at the Ministry for much longer. If Narcissa was going home, then so was she. Her hours were flexible anyway, depending on whatever project she was working on. Hermione grabbed some Floo powder and flung it into the hearth, disappearing into a whoosh of green flames and not seeing Narcissa awkwardly standing by the food stall, tapping her fingernails against her purse in quiet contemplation.
***
The next day, Hermione arrived at the Ministry early. A good night’s sleep and some additional research - yes, she’d gone to the library immediately - had given her renewed vigor. Funny, she thought as her feet connected with the marble floors of the Atrium. Usually she avoided Narcissa. Not because of any specific reason, but mostly because it just felt a little awkward to talk casually with the witch. Hermione was always a little intimidated and now that she’d deliberately gotten herself in Narcissa’s pathway a few times, she could tell for sure.
She was intimidated and intrigued.
Narcissa Black was obviously a smart woman judging by the one meeting Hermione had attended. She’d been the only one who’d been prepared and had a grasp on the complexities of the case. Her suggestions had been thought through instead of rash. But she was also effortlessly elegant, something which Hermione had of course noticed before but found herself a little mesmerized with up close. Furthermore, it seemed like Narcissa was perfectly capable of kindness too. The way Atticus’ face had lit up when Narcissa had asked after his children.
That kindness had never been directed at her and the needy bit of Hermione’s personality was offended at that. For some reason, she’d woken up wanting to experience some of Narcissa’s kindness. She almost chuckled at herself as she walked towards the elevators on autopilot. The witch functioned like a conundrum to Hermione and if there was one thing she liked to get to the bottom of… it was conundrums.
Speaking of. She nearly bit her own tongue when someone asked her to hold the elevator and Narcissa slipped between the opening that Hermione had made by holding her hand in front of the doors. The gate rattled close loudly as if it was angry by Hermione’s interference and they were both whisked away in a direction that was nowhere near where they needed to be.
“I’ll never figure out these elevators,” Hermione laughed nervously.
“They’re magical. Would you say that you’re capable of understanding how that works?”
“Errrr. No.”
The blonde hadn’t spoken with anger or venom lacing her words, but she had sounded so clipped and detached that Hermione immediately lost all her courage to keep the conversation going. Let alone that she was brave enough to apologize for her mishap the other day. Instead, Hermione looked at their feet, noting once more that Narcissa was wearing ridiculously expensive stilettos.
She followed the witch’s calves, visible underneath her knee-length pencil skirt that seemed to be made of dragon leather. Hermione swallowed even though her throat felt like sanding paper as her eyes trailed the curve of Narcissa’s backside. She’d never noticed before how well-rounded it was. Hermione appreciated curves and wit in a woman.
Her brain came to a screeching halt. The combination of her sudden realization that she was attracted to a female body and the possibility of Narcissa having heard every single one of her thoughts was enough to make her want to cast an Avada Kedavra at herself on the spot. She nearly stumbled when the elevator came to a sudden halt and could do nothing but watch how Narcissa practically ran out of the enclosed space, even though they weren’t on her level. Shit . Had she heard? Or was she simply not fond of Hermione’s presence?
***
Hermione felt a little nervous walking to the meeting room on the seventh floor where she knew Narcissa had a brainstorming session with the Department of Law and Regulation. The morning had crawled past while she’d attended other meetings for the sake of the ruse. To kill time, she’d done what she’d never really done before. She’d paid attention to the people rather than to the content of the meeting. And Hermione had come to the same conclusion several times in a row. She liked female curves.
It was… somehow surprising and not surprising at the same time. She’d already sent an owl to Ginny to ask her friend for an emergency datenight in their favorite pub. Hermione needed a soundboard for her thoughts and when it came to sex and sexuality, Ginny was the person she trusted the most.
Hermione opened the door to the meetingroom and was greeted with absolute disinterest. Rumor about her new assignment had spread quickly and she knew most people hoped she would try to cut down on meeting hours. Although there were a few employees who loved to have follow-up meetings about a follow-up meeting.
She sat down in a chair in the corner of the room seeing as the ones around the table were taken, and crossed her legs so she could place her notebook on her thigh. Truth be told, Hermione wasn’t keen on attending this meeting. The images of the women she’d admired today were flashing through her mind and she was trying to make sense of them. How ridiculous that Narcissa’s pair of gorgeous legs in designer stilettos had been enough to cause this epiphany. And despite her discovery being as fresh as can be, Hermione already had a better idea about what she liked and what she didn’t like.
Heels were definitely a thing. There was something about the way women’s backsides swayed when they walked in them. And suits. Gosh, Hermione liked suits. Of course, the women still had to be intellectual. Hermione never liked idle chitchat and preferred her conversationalist partners to be sharp and quick. A little dominance didn’t hurt either… Damn, did Narcissa not only reveal her sexual orientation to her but also set the bar unrealistically high?
Across from her, Narcissa was watching her with big eyes, and Hermione felt her stomach lurch when she met the blonde’s gaze. Was she listening to her thoughts? Shit, was she hearing how Hermione analyzed her attraction to women based on their encounter in the elevator? Just when Hermione wanted to write down her suspicions, Narcissa pointed at a spot on her blouse and then at Hermione. She looked down and spotted some dried up toothpaste. Embarrassed, Hermione wiped it away and tried to look at Narcissa again, but by the time she did, the witch seemed engrossed in the meeting.
Hermione had half a mind to leave the meeting, pretending she had enough information but eager for some time alone, when she caught the last sentence of the elderly wizard in an old-fashioned purple robe.
“Not sure if you understand what I mean, seeing as you are a woman and-”
“Really Nostradamus? You’re going to try and push your opinion through claiming that my poor minuscule female brain can’t comprehend it?”
The sheer steel that laced Narcissa’s voice was enough to make Hermione squirm in her seat. Clearly she had to underline the dominance on her list of attractions. It felt like everybody was holding their breath, not daring to stand in the way of the altercation between Narcissa and Nostradamus. The blonde eyes’ shot daggers, but her posture showed no sign of tension. It was remarkable how she held her ground. Hermione always kept arguments short so she could run to the nearest loo and have a cry.
“Now look here, Narcissa,” Nostradamus broke the silence, but he was once again cut off by his opponent.
“No. You don’t get to patronize me, nor any woman in this room. If you have facts and figures to argue your case, I’m more than willing to listen. But if you think sexism is going to get you to enact this crazy idea of yours, I’m afraid you’re going to find a fierce adversary in me.”
Hermione couldn’t whoop out loud, but gosh was she inwardly grinning from ear to ear. She wondered if Narcissa knew just how sexy she was when she was angry. Perhaps it was a good thing Narcissa hadn’t had an active part in the war or the outcome could have been entirely different. The witch was damn impressive, and Hermione couldn’t help but crush on the Pureblood a little. She suddenly understood why she’d been so fond of McGonagall too… authoritative women were her jam.
Across from Nostradamus, Narcissa’s facial expression faltered slightly. A smug smirk had crept onto the blonde’s face as the wizard spluttered in indignation.
***
It was crowded in the pub, seeing as it wasn’t only Hermione and Ginny’s favorite place to have a beer after work. But Hermione didn’t mind. The conversation she wanted to have with her friend wasn’t meant for any eavesdroppers and it was loud enough that nobody would understand her. They’d found a small table with two stools in the far corner of the pub, next to the entrance of the toilets, and Hermione immediately ordered a beer for Ginny and a Gin and Tonic for herself.
“Gin ey, must be some news you have for me.”
“I just don’t feel like having a beer,” Hermione shrugged, pretending like Ginny hadn’t seen right through her.
Her friend luckily let it slide and sipped her beer, sighing happily when the liquid went down her throat. “Ahh, I needed that! Now, tell me what’s going on.”
“I think I’ve had some kind of… revelation.”
“Okay? What area are we having revelations in? Is it something work-related?”
Hermione sipped her own drink and willed her nerves to go down too when she swallowed. Not that she thought Ginny wouldn’t be accepting of her preferences, but telling someone else made it feel awfully official. And with it probably came questions and expectations and while she loved Ginny, the redhead could be a bit of a bulldozer in sensitive situations. But she also felt the intense need of telling her friend and that was the main reason she’d arranged for their date. It felt right, nerves or not.
“I think I fancy witches.”
Ginny shrugged. “I figured.”
“What?”
“At first, I thought you just had extremely high standards. Almost like you’d decided to only date highly intellectual people after my brother. Which seemed fair to me. I’ve seen him chase after garden gnomes way too many times. But then you stopped dating men altogether.”
“I thought relationships simply weren’t for me.”
“Which would have been fine, ‘Mione. But this makes sense to me.How did you find out?”
Hermione appreciated Ginny’s easy acceptance, but she couldn’t disclose the exact circumstances in which she’d discovered her love for female curves. Everything she did for the Ministry was under a strict confidentiality clause. She told Ginny as much, but her friend was relentless and before she knew it, Hermione was listing everything she thought she liked in witches.
By the time she went home, she knew she would suffer a hangover the next day, but the smile on her face was well worth it. Crookshanks flicked his tail annoyedly at her when she stumbled into her house and she filled his bowl with extra kibble to make up for his neglect. She’d crawled in bed, thinking about Narcissa, and desperately trying to forget her friend’s well-intended, but horrible advice about sex and relationships.