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    “I really love to hate you and nothing you do will ever change my mind...”- Britney Spears “Love to Hate You”






The office wasn’t at all how he’d expected it to look.  Entering a large and roomy reception area, he saw a couple people waiting for other doctors.  Draco walked up to the counter and immediately charmed the receptionist.
   
“Good afternoon, Minister,” she blushed scarlet.
   
He smiled at her, a flirty, flashy grin that he reserved for these types of occasions.  These smiles never did him wrong.  “’Afternoon.  I’m here to see Dr. Granger.”
   
The receptionist continued blushing.  “I’ll let her know.  Please have a seat.”
   
As Draco sat, he felt eyes on him in recognition of who he was.  He smiled politely at them and then looked down at the magazines sitting on the side tables.  There was an older issue of Witch Weekly as well as a newer one of Magic Traveler.  Out of curiosity, he flipped through the Witch Weekly to find an article on the ten hottest wizards of the year.
   
Flipping through the different pictures and descriptions of each guy, Draco scanned the top 5.  Number five was Blaise Zabini, biggest donor to St. Mungo’s.  Number four was Ron Weasley, Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts.  Draco shook his head at that.  A blood traitor like Weasley didn’t deserve a spot in Witch Weekly.  Number three was the lead singer from a Wizarding band called Potion Brewers.  Number two was the great Harry Potter, vanquisher of Lord Voldemort and current Headmaster at Hogwarts.  Draco rolled his eyes at Harry’s photo, smiling up at him.  Potter was yet another man undeserving of his position at number two.  But Draco was soon distracted by the first photo:  Draco Malfoy, Minister of Magic.  Draco smiled at his incredible photogenic skills behind a camera.
   
“Minister?” the receptionist smiled at him.  “Dr. Granger will see you now.”
   
With a sigh, Draco put down the issue of Witch Weekly that he had been perousing and followed the receptionist down a short hallway. 
   
The receptionist knocked on the door softly.  “Dr. Granger?  Minister Malfoy is here.”
   
It was quiet for a few moments before he heard a voice say.  “Let him in.”
   
The receptionist opened the door and smiled at Draco.  With a heavy heart full of anxiety about who this new doctor would be, Draco entered the room. 
   
He didn’t see her at first as the chair at the desk was facing the window behind it that overlooked the city.  All he could see of his new doctor was a small patch of light brown hair, the color of ginger or honey.  Draco couldn’t be sure.  He took that opportunity to look around the office.
   
It was small and slightly cramped, though some lesser souls would probably call it cozy.  A couch lined one wall, complete with two matching arm chairs of black leather.  Well, Draco thought.  At least she has taste.  A mahogany book shelf stood next to the matching mahogany desk where the doctor was seated in a black leather chair.
   
   
Hermione waited a few moments after she heard the door close before turning around, instead pretending to be fascinated by what was going on outside her window.  In truth, though it was fun to people watch on both Muggles and wizards alike, she was really trying to gain her bearings before turning around, knowing full well who she would be facing.  Hermione wondered whether the Minister knew who his new doctor was. 
   
She heard muffled footfalls on her dark blue carpeted floor that stopped, as she could see out of the corner of her eye, by her bookshelf.  He seemed to be perousing her selection of books.  The titles ranged from Color Psychology: Decorating a Doctor’s Office With the Best Results to Psychology For Muggles. 
   
Taking a deep breath, she turned around slowly in her chair.  “Would you like to begin, Minister?”
   
It had been five years since she had seen Draco Malfoy in person and the last time having been when she, Harry, and Ron had saved his life in the Room of Requirement when Crabbe had burst it into flames.  He had been a snivelling two faced weasel then and Hermione doubted that he was that much different five years later.
   
Hermione did notice that he looked much more mature, his face having filled out a bit so it was a bit less pointed.  He looked like he had gotten some sun which did wonders for his complexion and nicely off-setted his white blond hair.  His eyes were still the same smug blue that she remembered.  He was tall... taller than she rememebered, and very fit.  But all the same, his body echoed the smugness in his eyes, for he carried himself as if he was royalty and as if, because he was Minister of Magic, he was better than everyone else.  
   
Malfoy seemed to be perousing her the same way that she had been perousing him.  Hermione had to agree that she had changed.  She was slim and fit since she’d been running and doing toning work, she had found a hairdresser and a potion that she took to permanently keep her hair from being too bushy, and most of all, she actually looked like a woman as opposed to a girl who hadn’t gotten her curves yet.  Hermione was happy about the changes but she doubted it would make any difference to Malfoy.
   
“Don’t bother,” Malfoy finally responded.  “I can see I’ve made a huge mistake.”
   
“Meaning?” Hermione asked.
   
“I should have trusted myself when Dr. Thompson told me that she was referring me to a Dr. Granger,” Malfoy snapped.  “I only know one Granger and she’s a Mudblood.”
   
Hermione let the sting of the insult wash over her.  “Jeez Malfoy, we’re not seventeen anymore.  I would’ve thought that your insults would have improved over time.”
   
Malfoy shot daggers at her.  “Be careful who you’re insulting, Granger.”
   
Hermione smirked.  “I believe that’s Doctor Granger to you, Minister.”
   
“Glad to know you still have manners,” Malfoy shot back.
   
Hermione raised her eyebrows.  “Oh... You mean, unlike you?”
   
A muscle twitched in his jaw.  Hermione took pride in the fact that she was probably the only person in the world that could get Malfoy riled up this fast.  It was as if he forgot the manners that came with being Minister of Magic all because of her biting comments.
   
“I’m going to find another doctor,” Malfoy retorted.  “There’s no way my thoughts with you.”
   
“Good,” Hermione shot back.  “Because I don’t want to hear them.  Besides, I could imagine how hard your life was, Malfoy.”
   
He looked truly angry.  “You have no idea what my life was like, Granger.”
   
Hermione just looked at him curiously.  What was he talking about?  He was raised in a Pureblood family who was wealthy and very well known.  He didn’t have to worry about affording anything and no one ever dared insult him.  How could that have been hard?
   
“Thanks for nothing, Granger,” Malfoy strode toward the door.
   
Hermione rolled her eyes.  “You didn’t even give me a chance to help you.”
   
“Like you would help me if your life depended on it, Granger,” Malfoy said in a low and dangerous voice.  “I just want to let you know how much business you’re losing.”
   
“I never had you in the first place,” Hermione reminded him.  “And besides, Dr. Thompson sent me all her patients, not just you.”
   
“None of them can pay you as much as I can,” Malfoy reminded her.
   
It was true but there was no way she was going to admit it to him.  “No.  But that’s not why I do my job.  I do it because I like helping people.  I like listening as they open up to me and tell me things that are their secrets alone.”
   
“So you can go blab about them?” Malfoy snapped.
   
“Listen, Minister,” Hermione retorted.  “You have no idea how to do my job.  There’s an agreement that I make with all my patients that protects their privacy.  Any good doctor would do that.”
   
“Fine,” Malfoy sneered.  “Have a good life!”
   
And with that, the door slammed behind her.  Hermione just shook her head and sat back down at her desk.

~*~*~  

Draco left in a huff.  How dare Hermione Granger, the Mudblood, talk to him, the Minister of Magic, like that?!  It was completely unheard of.  No one else would ever dare talk to him like that, especially with the power he wielded.  It would be so easy for him to pass some bill saying that wizard doctors couldn’t treat Muggles anymore.
   
Besides, how many wizards would go see her if she wasn’t allowed to treat Muggles anymore?  And then, a plan appeared in his head.  Maybe he would pass that law.  He could.  He was, after all, Minister of Magic.
   
Smiling to himself, Draco Disapparated to the Ministry of Magic, already writing the bill in his head.

   
~*~*~

The next morning, Hermione picked up a cup of coffee, a scone, and a Daily Prophet on her way to work.  Her day was packed but she didn’t mind at all.  She loved working with people and now that her business was shooting off, she had absolutely nothing to worry about.  She had even forgotten about her unpleasant encounter with the Minister of Magic the day before.  Who needed politicians anyway?  They were just a bundle of trouble.
   
When she sat down at her desk ten minutes later, Hermione finally looked at the front cover of the Daily Prophet and gasped.

Minister of Magic Bans Treatment of Muggles In Wizarding Medicine


Minister of Magic, Draco Malfoy, says yesterday
“To better protect the wizarding world, doctors and healers of all kinds
who previously treated Muggles are not allowed to treat them as of
next week.”
When interviewed, Malfoy says, “I think it kind to give these practitioners time
to send the Muggles on their way before punishing them.”
According to another source, this punishment includes kicking them out of practice...


   
Hermione looked away from the paper with frustrated tears in her eyes.  She hated Draco Malfoy.  She had just made her life Hell.  It wasn’t like she would be too badly affected by this law as only a few of her patients currently were Muggles, but what was she supposed to tell them.
   
Out loud, she rehearsed it.  “Oh, I’m sorry Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne.  I’m afraid I can’t treat you anymore because you’re Muggles.”
   
She shook her head.  If she ever saw Draco Malfoy ever again, she swore she would kill him. 
   
At that moment, a ring sounded right behind her.  Hermione jumped as she noticed her phone ring.  Though it was rare to have one in the wizarding world, she found it convenient to talk to her Muggle patients and her receptionist, Susan Bones, who had been a fellow Hogwarts Alumni from Hufflepuff.
   
“Hello,” Hermione said.
   
“Did you see the paper?” Susan’s voice echoed on the other line.
   
“Yes, I did,” Hermione said through gritted teeth.  “I am going to kill that bastard.”
   
“And to think I was actually nice to him,” Susan said ashamedly.  “I didn’t think he was that awful.”
   
Hermione sighed.  “Come on, Susan.  Think back to when were in school.  When has Draco Malfoy ever not been awful?”
   
“True,” Susan said grudgingly and then added.  “Though he is awfully cute.”
   
“No, he’s not,” Hermione sneered.  “He’s as much of a ferret as he was in school.”
   
Susan was silent.
   
“Sorry, Susan,” Hermione sighed.  “I didn’t mean to take it all out on you.”
   
“It’s okay, Hermione,” Susan replied.  That was what Hermione liked so much about her, she was very loyal.  “What are we going to tell the Muggle patients.”
   
“I guess we’ll have to put some spell on them to make them think that their insurance doesn’t cover our office anymore and then refer them to a Muggle doctor,” Hermione shook her head.  “I know a couple good ones.  My ex, for one.”
   
“Okay,” Susan answered.  “Should I call them?”
   
“Yeah,” Hermione sighed again.  “Thanks Susan.”
   
“No problem,” Susan answered.
   
“Hey, Susan?” Hermione asked, an idea forming in her brain.  “When’s my first appointment today?”
   
“Not for a couple hours,” Susan replied.  “Since we have to cut out our Muggle business.  Why?”
   
“Because I’m going over to the Ministry,” Hermione put on her coat as she spoke. 
   
“What are you going to do there?” Susan asked curiously.
   
“Give Draco Malfoy a piece of my mind,” Hermione said.  “I’m furious and there’s no way I’m going to let him get away with this.”
   
“Good luck,” Susan simply answered.  “I’ll call all those patients.”
   
“I’ll see you in a while,” Hermione said and then hung up the phone.
   
Taking a deep breath, she Disapparated.

~*~*~  

“So are you going to be at dinner tonight?” Narcissa’s head asked in the midst of green flames.
   
Draco smiled at his mother.  “Of course I am, Mother.  How could I ever miss an occasion to dine with you and Father?”
   
Narcissa smiled at her son.  “Well, you have been awfully busy with all your Ministry work lately.  Your father and I are so very proud.”
   
“Thanks,” Draco smiled and was about to ask what time dinner was when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.  “Excuse me a moment, Mother,” he turned to the door.  “Who is it?”
   
“Avery, sir.”
   
“Avery,” Draco said happily.  “Come in.”
   
The door opened and Draco came face to face with his secretary.  “Yes?”
   
Avery took a deep breath.  “There is a Hermione Granger who insists on seeing you, Sir, though she doesn’t have an appointment.”
   
Draco sighed.  He knew this was all about the new bill that had just been in the paper this morning.  He must admit that the paper’s publishing time was impeccable. 
   
“Shall I send her in?” Avery asked nervously.  By the look on his face, Draco could see that she must have given his staff a very hard time indeed.  Best that he get it over with. 
   
“Yes,” Draco nodded.
   
Avery nodded to Draco’s mother as he left who turned back to him as Draco collapsed in his chair.  “What was that all about, Darling?”
   
“I’m about to get tongue lashed, Mother,” Draco explained.  “By a Mudblood.”
   
“About what?” Narcissa asked, surprised.
   
“About my new bill,” Draco replied.
   
“Well, I won’t stay any longer,” Narcissa gave him a smile.  “Dinner’s at seven, Sweetheart.  Make sure you show her her place.”
   
Draco nodded.  “Oh, I will.  Thank you, Mother.  See you tonight.”
   
And with that, the head in the fire disappeared, the flames turning orange again.
   
A moment later the door burst open and Hermione Granger appeared flushed in anger and cold.  She was dressed in a long wool overcoat, the dark blue setting off nicely with her honey blond hair.  The coat, though loose did not hide the unmistakable delicious curves that he had seen yesterday.  Her eyes were shooting daggers at him which very much brought Draco back to his senses.
   
She might be beautiful but she was still the insufferable, know-it-all bookworm Mudblood that he had known since he’d been eleven.
   
“Take a seat, Dr. Granger,” Draco smirked.  “I understand you have some business with me?  Why not be comfortable as we talk?”
   
“No,” Granger shot back.  “You’re such a jackass, Malfoy!”
   
“Language, Granger,” Draco smiled connivingly.  “You dare speak so ill to the Minister.”
   
“Yes,” she said, backing him up toward his desk.  “I can’t believe that you passed that bill and it was all because of me.”
   
“Why don’t you let me explain?”  Draco asked, walking around his desk and sitting down.  “You see, you were only the inspiration.”
   
“What are you talking about?” Granger shot back. 
   
“Well, you alerted me to the fact that the wizarding community is being far too kind to the Muggle or non-magical community,” Draco explained.  “As the Minister of Magic, it is my duty to stop this.  If it isn’t ended, we risk exposing our world.”
   
“The wizarding world has been safe thus far,” Hermione argued.  “I don’t see any reason to change the law.”
   
“Well,” Draco looked at his watch.  “As you are not in Politics and the law has already been written and put into effect, nothing you say is going to change anything.”
   
Granger just glared at him.  “Fine.  That’s all I have to say.  But I just want to let you know one more thing.”
   
“What’s that?” Draco raised an eyebrow. 
   
“People are going to be angry about this and your search for another doctor is going to get harder and harder,” Granger said pointedly.
   
“Thanks for your concern, Granger,” Draco’s tone was laced with hatred.  “But I’m perfectly capable of finding a doctor on my own.”
   
“Just telling you what’s going to happen,” Granger shot back.  “And don’t come groveling back to me when you don’t find anyone to take you in.”
   
“Before you go, Granger,” Draco smirked.  “I rarely grovel and least of all to you.”
   
And with a last glare from the Mudblood, the door slammed in his face.

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