In the beginning, God created the heavens, the earth, and this annoying little swot that made me believe homicide was perfectly acceptable. – Draco Malfoy
They were running, and Draco Malfoy hated to run. He didn't mind flying high amongst the trees and swooping low on his broom, but Hermione Granger had ruined all that. Instead, he was running, and sweating, and breathing heavy, and not because a delightfully sexy vixen was writhing beneath him. No, it was due to the fact Hermione Granger decided an approach through the trees would give them the element of surprise.
Draco's mussed blonde hair whipped in the wind, and his cheeks were pink from the chill in the air. He dodged the spells being cast in his direction and grunted as branches poked and prodded his ribs. He expelled his breaths quickly and hurled curses with an angry snarl.
"Left!" He shouted, no longer caring if the bloody criminal heard him.
At least his partner listened and immediately veered left, while he circled around to the right. He heard a strangled shout but knew it wasn't her, as the sound didn't grate his nerves. Draco rounded the bend and was mildly impressed to see Rigby snarling and Disarmed.
"You bastard! Targeting children?! They're only children!"
Draco clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes upon approach. Leave it to Hermione Granger to berate the escaped convict before ensuring his capture. It wasn't any wonder as to why she had been assigned to the Hit Squad. She simply wasn't cut out for interrogations. She was always allowing those pesky emotions get in the way of doing her job.
"Stupefy! Incarcerous!" Draco easily interrupted Granger's angry monologue, with a flick of his wand.
"Malfoy, I had it under control." Hermione hissed without turning, knowing it was him.
"We're supposed to be capturing him, not boring him to death."
Draco studied her. He vaguely wondered if she was aware there were twigs sticking out from her head. He noticed her ensemble was quite torn, and there was a smudge of blood on her cheek. He frowned, disliking the way she continuously turned from him.
"Are you injured?" It was customary to inquire as to her status, especially when she was riled, not to mention dishevelled.
Hermione stubbornly remained silent, despite the fact there seemed to be actual concern in his voice. It wasn't the first time they were sent into the field together, and it wouldn't be the last, she knew that now. Despite their differences, they worked well together.
She had fought against the assignment vehemently, but the Minister for Magic refused to yield. Hermione believed working alongside Draco Malfoy would be tortuous, but it wasn't. He was incredibly intelligent and there was kindness hidden beneath the sarcastic quips.
"Aye, I almost had the little Mudblood slag, but you ruined it, bastard that you are." Rigby laughed heartily, completely nonplussed by his current predicament, and smiled widely with his crooked, nearly brown teeth.
They had tracked the degenerate for days, and Draco knew the toll was wearing on Granger. Draco believed her to be entirely too sensitive but had had to admit the trail of Muggle children left in Rigby's wake was more than he could stomach as well. It reminded him of Death Eater revelries and he wasn't the sort of wizard to enjoy reminiscing about his colourful past.
"Shut your filthy mouth, you animal." Draco Malfoy's heavy black boots repeatedly struck Rigby's ribs, until the satisfying crunch shook him from his madness. "You don't call her that." Draco spat with venom, and his wand was shaking with the effort to refrain from ending the blight of humanity.
"Don't, Malfoy. He's not worth it." Hermione hastily repaired the tears in her heavy black cargo slacks, and the slash in her cable-knit jumper.
"Does the little Malfoy have designs on the Mu-"
"Silencio." Hermione flicked her wand, anxious to be out of the forest before nightfall.
"He didn't…"
"I'm fine, Malfoy. I don't know why you're pretending to be so concerned, you've said worse." Hermione yanked the twigs from her hair, scoffing as they were caught around her obstinate curls.
"Granger, it's been two years, like it or not, you're my partner now." Draco sneered, yet the animosity of their childhood was absent as he hauled Rigby against a tree. "When the Minister for Magic assigns you the best mate of the Chosen One and his Sidekick, you learn relatively quickly to be concerned when injury is involved, if you value your life."
"We better be going, it's getting dark and…" Hermione quickly changed the subject, unwilling to venture into her reassignment.
"Yes, yes, I know you have an aversion to the dark. One day you'll have to tell me that story. Come here, Granger. It seems you've got a love bite on your throat and I doubt Weasley would be pleased to see such a thing upon our return." Draco pressed his wand to the obvious teeth marks, purple and bruising near the cusp of her shoulder. "Your defences were down if he managed to sink his teeth into you."
"It happens, Malfoy. You've healed it. There's no need to discuss it further."
Hermione shivered from the chill in the air, and the magic warming her injury. She refused to admit Rigby had gotten the best of her, even for a moment. It had happened before, as it had happened to all members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but it didn't make her feel much better about it. She berated herself, pleased that Malfoy didn't break the silence, not even after they arrived back at the Ministry with their prisoner in tow.
"Oi, you lot are a disaster." Ronald Weasley chortled happily while munching on what looked to be a pastry. "Muggle Ministry is bloody thrilled you caught Rigby. I can't believe he was…"
"Shut it," Draco grunted.
He hadn't the patience to deal with Weasley's ramblings. While they were on somewhat friendly terms, the man rarely had anything of import to say. Draco simply wished for a hot shower, a meal, and to fall into bed. Perhaps, if he were lucky, he could cajole a witch that was easy on the eyes, for a tumble between the sheets.
"We're tired, Ron. We've been chasing Rigby for days. I'm exhausted and I suspect Malfoy is as well. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd wager he wants the same things I do." Hermione leaned into Ron's side, and just managed to ignore the crumbs that landed on her shoulder.
"Hmm, Granger wants a shag, good to know." Draco winked and pushed through the doors leading to their offices on Level 2.
Ron, in his bumbling shock, choked on the bits of pastry still lodged between his cheeks, and Hermione simply sighed. She was used to Draco Malfoy's antics, but Ron was still learning. It seemed he still had far to go, despite their friendliness.
"He's just trying to get a rise out of you, you should know that by now. I'm going to finish up my report and go home." Hermione kissed Ron's cheek and hurried through the door leading to her cubicle within the Hit Squad.
She paused the moment the heavy door clicked shut. The last thing she wanted to do was sit for hours in her cubicle writing her report, but she knew her dedication wouldn't allow her to skive off. Hermione took a small detour to the loo and splashed cool water on her face.
She grimaced as she studied the smudges of dirt upon her cheeks and the remnants of teeth marks on her neck. Hermione shuddered at the state of her unruly hair, and quickly tied it up, deciding it wasn't the time to pick foliage from her head. Her shoulders drooped, and her eyes closed for only a moment, but it was long enough for Rigby's leering eyes to flash before her eyes.
Hermione squared her shoulders with the sort of determination that had been ingrained in her from youth and pushed the door to the loo open. She paused, as she heard quiet conversation stemming from the Hit Squad offices. There was something about the insistent voice that seemed familiar, but it took her a moment to realise it was Harry.
"How is she doing?" Harry Potter squirmed uncomfortably, but the question needed to be asked.
"Potter, why are you bothering me with such nonsense? She's bloody Granger, she's doing what she always does." Draco Malfoy pulled on his blond hair and sneered at the dirt lodged beneath his fingernails. "She's absolutely infuriating, but she writes her reports promptly, which honestly I adore. You know I hate writing those fucking reports. She's entirely too emotionally involved, but strangely, that doesn't bother me as much as it bothered you lot over in the Auror Department."
Hermione leaned against the corridor wall and listened to their conversation. She was shocked to discover Draco Malfoy paying her compliments in his roundabout way. He also wasn't wrong. She was too emotionally involved, but it was part of her nature.
The only reason she had ventured into the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was due to an errant comment made by the late Nymphadora Tonks. It had stuck with Hermione, and in the face of all the death and destruction, she wanted to make a difference. She wanted to be part of the excitement that led to a safe world for both Muggle and Magic.
"You've got good instincts, Hermione. You'd make a fine Auror, something to think about is all."
Those simple words rang with her as she saw loved ones fall by the wayside. They stayed with her when Voldemort fell. They reverberated within her as she aided in restoring Hogwarts, and she couldn't resist the allure any longer. When the Minister for Magic had offered Hermione a position, she did not hesitate, though in retrospect she wondered if she should have.
Hermione knew it was ridiculously optimistic of her, but she couldn't help it. She'd always segued toward the good in others, even as a young witch within the walls of Hogwarts. It had always bothered her that she had been slightly wrong about Draco Malfoy's dealings, but he had changed in such leaps and bounds, what did it matter anymore?
"How is she adjusting though? I mean, it has to be difficult for her not working with us the way she used to. I know the transfer was hard on her, but Malfoy…" Harry mumbled the way he usually did when he was speaking about things that made him uncomfortable.
"Potter, you don't need to explain yourself to me. If I've a choice in the matter, I'd rather you didn't." Draco slammed a book onto his desk and groaned. "Go away. Everything is fine. It's wonderful. We're the best of bloody friends, are you happy now?"
"Must you always be so difficult?" Harry shoved his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, in order to keep from grasping his wand in anger.
"Yes," Draco replied quite easily, the moment he spied an exhausted Hermione in the doorjamb with a frown. "Granger, come write these. They're not going to write themselves."
If Harry hadn't been standing there, Hermione probably would have made a nasty retort and vacated the offices. Instead, she smiled sweetly and sat beside her partner. She barely graced Harry with a perfunctory nod as she pored over the tidy stack of parchment and lifted her quill.
"We'll have these to you by the morning." Hermione sat stiffly, and Harry knew it wasn't the time to have the sort of conversation with her he wished to have.
"I don't give a shit about the reports!" Harry shouted, causing Draco to chuckle at Potter's obvious loss of temper.
"Well, if you're not here about the reports, there's no reason for you to be here, now is there? Unless of course, you only came to gossip about me with Malfoy here, I can't imagine my very best friend doing something as underhanded as that." Hermione tapped a quill against her bottom lip, and silently dared Harry Potter to speak truth.
Draco Malfoy was actually quite proud of her. Of course, he'd never say such a thing to her face, but the thought was there. It had been interesting to watch her grow, away from her counterparts, and this was one of those moments. He'd never understood their unhealthy obsession with being involved with every little facet of the other's lives. It was unnatural.
Harry Potter stood there for a moment, silently sputtering, but his cheeks were flush with embarrassment. He didn't like the way Hermione ignored him, or the way Malfoy and Hermione's heads were so close together while they read the same piece of parchment. If he didn't know better, he would have assumed they were involved in some manner.
He knew Malfoy and Ron had forged out some sort of civil behaviours, but that was all due to Hermione's transfer. The Weasleys were thrilled to add another to their family, and it amused Harry to see the way Draco baulked over their fussing. He and Malfoy were still on unsteady ground, but their conversations weren't nearly as biting as they used to be. It was progress, though to Harry it was still wrought with awkwardness, and Hermione didn't make things better.
"Look, Molly expects you both for Brunch on Sunday, and you know there's no dissuading her." Harry pulled on his hair, and Hermione managed a small smile.
"Hmm, I suppose she'll expect we wear our Yule gifts as well?" Hermione's caramel eyes sparkled with mischief for the first time in nearly a year, and Harry nodded eagerly.
"Oh yes, she suggested it. She is thrilled with the idea of it and Arthur can't wait to take some photographs with the Muggle camera you gave him last year. I believe the plan is to have a portrait done to hang in the lounge." Harry winked with a snicker.
"Absolutely not. I refuse." Draco stood and slammed his pile of parchment to the desk, with a flourish becoming a Malfoy. "You're joking. They itch. They're abysmal. I-I can't be seen…"
"Breathe, Malfoy. Harry's just taking the piss." Hermione patted Draco's hand, and she didn't notice the way he stiffened beneath her touch, but Harry picked up on it and frowned.
Harry had fought Kingsley when the Minister had decided it was in everyone's best interest to transfer Hermione to the Hit Squad. Part of it had been the fact he liked working with her, though he knew she wasn't doing the Auror Department any favours. He loved Hermione, desperately, nearly obsessively, but he convinced himself it was a sibling sort of love.
He despised the way Hermione had so readily agreed to be partnered with Draco Malfoy, despite his objections. Even Ron had taken the news better than Harry. It didn't have anything to do with the fact Malfoy had been an abysmal git when they were children, nor the fact he had been the worst Death Eater in the history of Death Eaters. It was more than that.
It was the fact that Draco Malfoy understood Hermione in a way Harry never would. Malfoy had read all the same books. He had interest in all the things that bored Harry to tears. They, Hermione and Draco, were intellectual equals, and where did that leave Harry? Well, it left him exactly where he always was, being the caring, slightly overbearing best mate, while she dated his other best friend and had camaraderie with Harry's one-time enemy. Harry Potter didn't like it, not one bit.
"Uh yeah alright then. I'm heading out. I expect I'll see you lot bright and early tomorrow." Harry shifted his weight between his feet, uncomfortable.
"I don't think so, Potter. Shacklebolt, Granger, and I have a meeting with the Muggle Minister. I can't recall his name, Granger what is it?" Draco yanked the quill from between Hermione's fingers and commanded her attention.
"Blair. Anyway, Harry, Kingsley is remiss to go alone considering what happened to that Minister for Magic years ago." Hermione barely reacted to Draco's interruption and simply lifted another quill to continue with her reports.
"Yes! That's right. I wondered why he asked us to accompany him. Gods, I would have paid a million galleons to see that Thatcher woman attempt to toss Fudge out the window." Draco sighed with contentment and casually tossed his arm across the back of Hermione's chair.
Hermione glanced at him quickly, from the corner of her eye, but said nothing. Harry didn't much like that either. There was an easiness to their relationship that hadn't been there before, and it set him on edge. He made a mental note to mention his concerns to Ron.
"Harry, you're scowling. Weren't you leaving?" Hermione rested her chin on her palm and looked up at him questioningly.
"Are you…trying to get rid of me?" Harry attempted to smile, but it felt wrong his lips. He knew his words weren't as light as he had intended either, but it was too late to alter such things.
"Frankly, yes. I've got this report to finish, and I can't very well have Malfoy fill in the missing bits with your constant interruptions." Hermione tossed her hands in the air, and her wild curls brushed against Draco's cheek as he turned to look at her in surprise.
Harry's hand tightened into a fist, and he struggled to keep from reaching for his wand. His green eyes darkened dangerously as he observed Draco grasp Hermione by the side of her neck with one hand. The Slytherin pushed Hermione's hair down her back with the other and whispered something in her ear Harry couldn't hear. Harry nearly snarled with fury when he saw Hermione nod slowly, and even release the tension in her shoulders.
"Potter, I don't appreciate you riling up my partner at this time of night. Send Weasley down would you? Granger needs to go home and I believe you need to fuck off as well." Draco quite enjoyed needling The Boy Who Lived. It hadn't changed much from their childhood.
Harry bristled and the tension between grew into an awkward silence. Hermione ignored it the way she usually did and focused on the missing details in her report. The delicate warm fingers stroking the side of her neck aided in easing her distresses, yet she knew it riled Harry for reasons only he could explain. Of course, he was adamant in maintaining his feud with Draco Malfoy without expanding upon a reason and Hermione was no longer interested in discovering the truth of the matter.
"There you are. I can't believe you're still here. There's dedication to your career, but this borders on insanity. D'ya have any idea what time it is?" Ron Weasley slammed through the doors, not even wincing when they crashed into the wall.
Harry Potter looked a bit triumphant the moment Ron appeared, but Draco and Hermione hadn't moved an inch. In fact, Hermione's cheek was resting on Draco's chest, and her eyes were closed. It was yet another thing that didn't sit well with Harry, not that there was anything he could do about it.
He didn't like the way Malfoy shifted in his chair, gathered a slumbering Hermione in his arms, and draped her across his lap. He didn't like the way Hermione sighed and her arm dropped casually around Malfoy's waist. He definitely didn't like the way Draco bloody Malfoy smiled down at her with what looked like affection of all things.
"Weasley, take Granger home. We've a meeting in the morning and she's never going to make it through her list of exceedingly boring questions if she doesn't get a bit of sleep." Draco spoke quietly while his palm smoothed the bumps in her jumper.
"Seems as though you've got the sleep portion of the evening covered, Malfoy." Ron snickered, quite enjoying the utter and complete horror present on Draco's usually apathetic features.
"Hmm yes, as lovely as it is to have a witch drool upon my shirt, I'd rather it not be someone else's girl." Draco squirmed, but delicately, so as not to wake his partner.
"Astoria then?" Harry was desperate to be part of the conversation, but the two sets of eyes baulking at his suggestion, caused him a bit of embarrassment.
"Are you mad? He can't bloody stand her, not that I blame him. Neville and I were just discussing all this at lunch yesterday." Ron rolled his blue eyes but made no move to retrieve Hermione.
"Speaking of Astoria, I'm to take her to lunch. I'd really bloody love it if you could provide a distraction. You know I'm not particularly fond of spending time with her in public."
"Aw poor Malfoy has to court an insipid witch," Ron snickered yet instantly frowned when he saw Harry and Draco staring at him. "Don't look at me like that! I am capable of learning new words thank you very much."
"Word of the day calendar?" Draco smirked and awkwardly adjusted the witch in his lap in order to distract himself from the feel of her soft breasts against him.
"You know what? You can entertain Astoria on your own. I'm sure your parents will be thrilled to see the Daily Prophet photographs of her fawning over you. Won't take them any time at all to plan your wedding." Ron crossed his arms in triumph as Draco's grey eyes widened in alarm.
"I don't even know why I'm friends with you," Draco muttered angrily. "Fine, fine. It wasn't the word of the day calendar I helped Granger choose for your last birthday. You've secretly been a studious wizard and no one has discovered your brilliance until now."
"Git," Ron huffed.
"Weasley," Draco sneered.
It was all in good fun and not a moment later, the two chuckled together. Harry silently watched the exchange and shook his head. He wanted Malfoy to remain the incorrigible arse from their youth, but if Malfoy had managed to soften Ron Weasley and befriend him at that, Harry's animosity was pointless.
"Alright well, at least choose a place that isn't going to be ridiculously obvious when I show up? Last time you chose that posh restaurant and I showed up in my bloody uniform." Ron grimaced and Harry wondered how often Ron and Malfoy have orchestrated interruptions of dates.
"Fine, but the Leaky isn't going to cut it," Draco spat with a customary eye roll.
"In that case, I'm going to need you to promise to accept mum's invitation," Ron grinned triumphantly.
"Ugh, fine, but I'm not wearing that fucking jumper." Draco's eyes quickly dropped to Hermione and softened as he watched her sleep. Harry's eyes narrowed when Draco's hand wandered to Hermione's hip and he clenched his fist.
"I'm sure your father will be thrilled to discover his Muggleborn nemesis asleep on his heir." Harry's cringe-worthy attempt to interject himself into an irrelevant conversation only raised the ire of both wizards.
"Harry!" Ron hissed.
"What the fuck is your problem, Potter?" Draco attempted to wake Hermione then, but she merely snuggled into his chest with a happy little sigh. "I'll have you know my mother is quite fond of Granger. She says she's increasingly impressed with Hermione's poise, despite her blood, which is a compliment from Narcissa Malfoy if there ever was one. If my father's opinions matter so much to you, send him an owl. I'm sure the two of you can drown your sorrows in firewhiskey while you discuss his disappointing son." Draco stood then, and even Harry was amazed at the wizard's grace as he hefted the sleeping Hermione into his arms.
He strode toward Ron and carefully deposited the witch in the other man's arms. Draco scowled at the wet spot on his shirt but managed to collect his cloak despite the irritation. It was second nature to shove the reports into his leather messenger bag, and then he magicked his desk. It would have been irresponsible to leave his and Hermione's workspaces penetrable to those outside the Hit Squad.
"G'night, Malfoy." Ron didn't bother saying a word to Harry, and Harry knew he had apologies to make, but he wasn't ready.
Harry watched Draco collect his belongings and carefully set everything in its place, not only on his desk but Hermione's as well. He didn't have anything to say. He simply wanted to see Malfoy vacate the Ministry while Ron took Hermione away.
"You're in love with her." Draco paused near the exit, with a half smile on his lips, and a knowing gleam in his eye. "Planning on telling her?" Draco winked and left Harry to his own thoughts.
"You first." Harry spat, but it took him a moment to realise that he was alone, and his reply didn't make a bit of sense.
Harry didn't like feeling off kilter, but that's exactly what watching Draco and Hermione's interactions had done to him. He wasn't in love with her, even the thought was preposterous. Wasn't it?