A/N- Here I am with a new one-shot! There are probably A LOT of inaccuracies. I have NO idea how a radio show works, so excuse that. Again, with the books, I have no idea about those. I also have no idea what an acceptance letter for publication looks like. The fact that Hermione is offering advice at age 27 is kind of unrealistic, but she's Hermione Granger. Come on.
Last thing: the wizards have some Muggle objects now, they were introduced after the war.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Hermione adjusted her microphone and sighed. "Listen, Cindy, he's not doing you any good. So leave."
"But-"
"I'm done with your buts. Leave. You said you aren't happy, and he's not doing anything for you, so leave."
"Oh… okay. Thanks Dr Hermione."
"Goodbye."
Hermione was thankful when the commercial break music came on, giving her a short couple minutes to leave the world of emotionally unstable people on her talk show. She took out a muffin and began to eat.
"Knock knock," a familiar voice came from the doorway. Hermione spun around in her chair and broke into a grin when she saw Ron Weasley there.
"Hey Ron! What're doing here?"
"Just temporarily rescuing my best friend from the job she must now regret taking. Merlin, Hermione, I was listening, and I don't know how you deal with all of those complaining women."
Hermione shrugged. "Bad day. But being a radio-talk-host-advice-giver-therapist person pays well."
"Right… Well, I'll leave you to your psychological help now."
Hermione smiled as the "On Air" sign lit up. "Bye!"
A member of the staff spoke into Hermione's headset. "Up next is… Jim Heathly."
"Hello Jim, welcome," Hermione said.
A slightly familiar voice responded. "Hello Gra- Dr Hermione."
Hermione frowned… she couldn't tell who it was, but she recognized the man's voice. "And what do you need to talk about?"
"Well… see, there's this girl I really like. I'll call her… Melissa. We went to school together, but my friends and I weren't exactly… nice to her."
"Wait- how old are you?"
"Twenty-seven."
"Okay, okay."
"Anyway, as I said, I really like Melissa and I don't know whether or not I should try anything, because I'm pretty sure she still hates me."
"So it should be nearly ten years since you left school, and I certainly think that's long enough to settle your differences," Hermione laughed in her head, thinking of how that didn't apply to herself- she worked alongside Malfoy at the Ministry, and saying they disliked each other was an understatement. "And if you have feelings for her, there's no use not trying, is there?"
"I… I don't suppose so," the voice sounded awkward. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." Hermione hung up.
For the rest of the half-hour, she listened to stories of heartbreak, emotional disturbances, and tantruming two-year olds until the clock hit two, and she was free.
She apparated back to her flat, and happened to land right in front of her bookshelf. Stumbling forward, she knocked her head on a high shelf and a couple books fell down.
One of them was a book she published on human psychology. She had done many hands-on studies and tests, and it sold well. She branched from there to a book about how to fix and cope with issues dealing with human psychology and emotions and such. That one sold brilliantly, and the next thing she knew, she had her own two-hour show on the radio, every weekend.
She fixed the books and then made herself some tea. Stirring sugar as it cooled a bit, she thought about the one caller who's voice sounded familiar. He reminded Hermione of Malfoy. They were both twenty-seven, bullies at school, and who knows- maybe Malfoy liked a girl who he taunted at Hogwarts. That would be good for a laugh. She knew for a fact, however, that could never be true, as Malfoy hadn't changed much since school.
Because a weekend radio show and a couple books was certainly not enough for Hermione to live on, she worked a job at the Ministry that was (thankfully) low-stress. What made it no fun was the fact that Draco Malfoy worked alongside her, and never ceased to amaze her with how annoying he could be. One would think that he might mature- but of course, then one would be wrong.
Sure, his jeers had lost the flair they had years ago, but they still were certainly not enjoyable in a working environment. His 'Mudblood' comments had ceased to a minimum, as well as his 'bushy-haired beaver' insults, and he had transferred on to poking fun at her various careers, claiming that she needed three jobs just to feed herself and her disgusting cat. Such comments didn't bother her anymore, they were pathetic, actually, but sometimes she would wonder if he was truly trying to hurt her anymore.
As a matter of fact, they had had a couple actual conversations that steered clear of name-calling lately. Hermione hadn't thought much of it until now. And with this revelation, she realized there was an uncanny familiarity between the caller Jim Heathly and Draco Malfoy.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Hello, Granger," a familiar drawling voice drifted from behind Hermione, to her evident dismay.
"Bugger off Malfoy, I have paperwork. You see, I, unlike you, actually work here. I don't know if you've noticed yet, but we're here because of something called a job."
Draco smirked. "Ha ha, Granger, you humor me. Almost enough to lighten up this drab workplace that your," he looked her up and down, "outfit does nothing to improve."
"If you could kindly stop insulting my choice of clothing and mind your own business, I would appreciate it."
Draco ignored her and continued. "Honestly, I know you have a figure, you actually wore a dress to that Ministry thing, but you keep hiding it under those bed sheets."
Hermione went slightly red upon realizing he had complimented her… in a way. "Er… well, maybe I like these bed sheets."
"Sure you do, Granger, sure you do," Draco said as he turned and went to sit at his desk.
The rest of the work week went similarly, with Draco's insults having some sort of flattering twist to them, and Hermione honestly didn't know how to respond. What was he playing at? And most confusing, on Friday, after he was done with his little comment, he stared at her for a moment, opened his mouth as if to say something, then turned bright red, shut it promptly, and ran off to his desk. Hermione had no clue what to make of it.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Next is… Jim Heathly, returning caller."
"Hello, Jim, how can I help you?" Hermione said into her microphone, kind of excited to hear what Jim needed again.
"Well, I called last weekend, asking about how to approach a girl who hates me. I did what you said, see, I tried sending a compliment here and there, but she doesn't notice anything. And I just wanted to know if it's worth it anymore. Should I keep trying?"
Hermione smiled a bit, she almost felt bad for him. A twenty-seven year old… "Jim, I hate to admit it, but girls can be thick sometimes, and slow to notice things. I say keep trying, make things more obvious. Try giving her something she likes- you know, a muffin or scone or something. And it's definitely worth keeping at it until she smacks you."
Jim laughed. "Been there, done that. Well, thank you."
"You're welcome," Hermione hung up again. So Melissa had smacked Jim? That reminded Hermione an awful lot about a certain incident that took place when she was thirteen.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Monday morning, Hermione arrived at work to see a large bouquet of flowers sitting on her desk. Lilies- her favorite. She smiled and looked for a card, to find there was no name or anything. She looked around to the other desks, to see everyone else bent over their work, except for- of course- Draco, who, when she caught his eye, looked down and began writing like everyone else, slightly pink in the face.
Tuesday and Wednesday went by uneventful, but on Thursday, she found a muffin on her desk. It had a small green ribbon tied around it. She smiled at it, but then it immediately disappeared- she distinctly remembered telling Jim that it would be a good idea to give Melissa a muffin or scone or something. She looked up at Draco again, who had wisely decided against making eye contact with her this time.
After work, Hermione got a brilliant idea. She scurried down the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and arrived in front of the receptionist. "Hello, may I speak to Jim Readman?"
A booming voice came from behind her. "Hermione Granger? Nearly missed me, I was about to leave. What do you need?"
Hermione twirled around to see a large man dressed in black. "Jim! Listen, I need your help. Tomorrow, if you could come up to my department and…"
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
The next morning, Hermione arrived a bit excited. She pranced over to her desk, sat down, and then gasped. There, on her desk, was a copy of a book she had been writing. And a letter. She snatched it up.
Dear Miss Granger,
Your submitted manuscript, Elves, Not Slaves, has been accepted for publication. Please contact us for further information.
Thank you,
Rena Swartz
Stalings Publications
Hermione's jaw dropped. She had never submitted this book, and the only people who would've had access to the manuscript would be someone at work, she always left it in her desk at the end of the day, and…
Then it hit her. Her gaze drifted from the letter to a certain blonde across the room, who had his head ducked, but not enough so she couldn't see a small smile on her lips.
She almost went over to ask him about the book when there was a booming cough from the door. She looked up to see Jim, and then remembered her plan.
"Oh!" she whispered. Then she raised her tone to a yell. "Hey! Jim, could you come here?"
Then she glanced at Draco, who had looked up straight at her, a panicked look plastered on his pale face. She looked at him, at the acceptance letter, at him again, and at the letter. It was then that she realized two things:
One- 'Jim Heathly' was Draco Malfoy, and she was ninety-nine percent sure she was Melissa.
Two- She really didn't mind. As a matter of fact, she kind of liked that.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
Over the weekend, Hermione was admittedly disappointed to find that Draco didn't call again. At work, he didn't try anything else, and whenever he looked at her, he looked quite depressed. He avoided eye contact and came off as defeated.
She felt bad about not approaching him about the manuscript or the flowers, but she didn't really know how. She was warming up to the fact he might like her, but didn't know how to explain she knew he was Jim.
She was just hoping he might call her again. Because Dr Hermione could definitely talk to Jim, it was just that Hermione Granger couldn't speak to Draco.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
"Hey Gin," Harry Potter stepped into his kitchen, where his wife was leaning her head on her hand and listening to a handheld radio. "What're you doing?"
"Hermione's show is on, and she almost over. I had nothing else to do, so I figured I'd listen," Ginny replied. "It's the last call of the day, want to listen?"
It was three minutes to two, her show was almost over, and Hermione had decided to accept the fact that Draco wasn't going to call in. Perhaps she was wrong, and he wasn't Jim after all. Or maybe he realized he didn't actually like her. Or maybe he just gave up.
The operator spoke into her headset. "Hermione? Listen, I was hesitant to let him on again, but Jim Heathly is next. Last call for today."
Hermione's heart beat fast in her chest. "Hello? Jim?"
"Hey Dr Hermione. It's me again."
"Any luck with Melissa?"
Harry sat down next to his wife. "Who's Melissa? And who's this Jim guy? He sounds awfully familiar."
Ginny shrugged. "I don't know… but I agree, his voice does sound familiar. Maybe it's someone from work."
Jim continued. "No luck at all… I tried everything. Everything you told me, I even got this book of hers published secretly," he waited for a moment, waiting to see if Hermione might catch on to the fact she was 'Melissa'. "and she didn't notice anything. You were right… girls can be kind of thick."
Hermione smiled slightly. "Anything else?"
"Well, I can't even look at her anymore! And she won't look at me! I can't believe she hasn't realized any of this yet, they call her the brightest student of the age, it's so obvious, and-"
Hermione lost it. "Draco Malfoy, shut up and just ask her out already!"
A slight noise of surprise came from Draco's end of the call, followed by a small pause.
Harry nearly dropped the soda he was drinking, and Ginny gave a little 'huh' of surprise and humor.
Suddenly, the door to Hermione's recording room swung open, and Draco Malfoy walked in, a cell phone pressed to his ear, and a wide smile on his face. "I'm way ahead of you."
Hermione grinned and took off her headset. She walked up to Draco. "I noticed. I noticed everything, you idiot. And I-"
But she was cut off as he walked closer and held her. "Took you long enough."
"I wouldn't be talking, you-" But she was cut off by Draco, who had decided to just kiss her. Faintly, through the discarded headset on the floor, she could hear the aww's of the operators, who could clearly see her through the cameras set up in the room. And far away, very far away, Harry was gagging on his soda and Ginny was smiling at her handheld radio.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
A/N- Okay, I hated the ending. I played with lots of them, then chose this one. :P If anything was unclear, please tell me. And please review! Always appreciated, especially with one-shots!