You're All I've Got Tonight
Disclaimer: My name is Brigitta and not Joanne Rowling, so I can not claim any rights to the Harry Potter series.
To: Current Readers
From: Starlight-Mist
Subject: Important Fluff
Right off the bat, I would like to say that all names used in this story are solely for literary purposes and I am never trying to accuse or suggest anything about anyone who has the same name. This is meant to be a humorous crime-fighters story about Draco and Hermione as they overcome their insecurities. The title was taken from the 1978 song, "You're All I've Got Tonight" by The Cars. However, the most important thing to know is that I am not an FBI agent, psychologist, or a doctor. Do not take everything you read seriously.
Lastly, I have changed some information about the characters (e.g. Draco is four years older than Hermione) in order to help the story flow better (reason: he is a doctor and had to have completed medical school in order for the timeline to work). I apologize if this annoys anyone. I will try my best to keep things close the the original books.
※ Modus Operandi - the way that a criminal commits their crimes until doing so is no longer an option
Chapter One
The Coffee-Sloshing Partner
(Published on Jan 1, 2016)
Special Agent Hermione Jean Granger.
"Four years years just to become one of them," the aforementioned agent whispered as she lovingly caressed her brand new badge, then slipped it into the pocket of her black slacks. Having recently graduated from the FBI Academy, it was her first day on the job. With her head held high, Hermione stepped out of her car and marched towards the front doors of the J. Edgar Hoover Building, ready to take on any challenge. However, what greeted her beyond the front doors was anything and everything but what she expected.
Maybe it was the woman behind the front desk who was savagely ranting on the phone as she made stabbing motions with her pencil. Or maybe it was the dreamy-looking blonde who was wheeling a skeleton through the lobby, seemingly mindless to the fact that its right arm was falling off the cart. But, it was most likely the distinct feeling that someone had just splashed her with a warm cup of coffee. A someone who had all-but disappeared in the few seconds that it took for her to recover from the attack.
In other words? Her assailant was a slosh-and-run drinker.
"Welcome to the prestigious Federal Bureau of Investigation, victim three or four hundred something. Pansy Parkinson at your service! I'm so sorry about your blouse, although I suppose that it should be Draco apologizing?" a young brunette apologized as she walked up to her, holding out a fluffy pink towel. Pansy was a relatively short woman with a round face that reminded Hermione of a pug, though not in a bad way. Her hair was styled in a sharp bob and she had a small streak of magenta on her right side. Her clothes seemed very high-end and she was a very put-together individual, from what Hermione could tell.
"Victim what?" Hermione asked as she accepted the offered towel.
"I lost count sometime after the two hundredth victim," Pansy shrugged, shooting a lopsided grin as Hermione toweled her hair dry and mopped up the drips at her feet. "Draco is my coworker, who has apparently made it his responsibility to douse people with coffee. Of course he takes care that the coffee is not scalding-hot, but still."
"Draco, late-twenties. Modus operandi is pouring coffee on people when irritated, then fleeing the scene of crime. Probably an incredibly arrogant man who enjoys challenging and defying authority, though it is quite possible that he has an inferiority complex," the new agent profiled peevishly as she accepted the blouse that Pansy had magically pulled out of her bag, which made Hermione wonder how often Pansy was stuck cleaning up Draco's messes...literally and figuratively.
Pansy whistled, rocking back on her heels, "Other than the inferiority complex thing and his age, which is actually thirty, that was an extremely accurate profile. I'm impressed! The bathroom is this way. So, are you a new agent or are you looking for one of our offices?"
"Both. It's my first day," Hermione replied as she followed Pansy, frowning as her shoes squeaked loudly. "I think I would look forward to it more if I knew exactly where I was supposed to go. I was just given a slip of paper with a place and a name, but I have absolutely no idea about anything else."
"Is that so?" Pansy asked as they entered the bathroom.
Hermione nodded, handing the friendly brunette a slightly soggy piece of paper before slipping into a stall to change out of her coffee-stained blouse. Pansy opened the soggy note and squinted down at the smudged ink, gasping loudly when she finally deciphered what the note said - Hogwarts, Executive AD Severus Snape.
"What is it? Really bad department or something?" Hermione asked as she emerged from the stall, adjusting the new blouse as she hung her old one off her arm.
"Hermione, you do have absolutely no idea how lucky you are that I was the one who found you," Pansy hissed, grabbing her arm and dragging the confused woman out of the bathroom. "To put it simply? You are part of Hogwarts, an elite secret division of the FBI. We often work on current cases, but our specialization is dealing with cases that have been open and unsolved for decades. Anyways, Hogwarts operates solely under the order of Albus Dumbledore, the right hand man of the Director. "
"Wait, do you mean we are practically charges of the Director Cook?" the new brunette asked incredulously, her heart nearly stopping at the mere thought.
"Not quite. Dumbledore and Cook work on the same level, but Dumbledore governs three Executive Auror Directors, one of whom is our boss. Each of the three Auror Directors leads a unit of five Auror Agents. Our badges identify us as Special Agents because our positions are not publicly-recognized titles. For example, we were supposed to get a new agent two months ago, but she showed her slip to someone who didn't know about Hogwarts and was terminated."
"Terminated? As in killed?"
"No, terminated as in the offer for her becoming an Auror Agent was revoked. She caused a large security scare for Hogwarts and got normal agents involved, which is taboo. Only a select few know about Hogwarts. She is now currently working as a normal agent and has been sworn to secrecy," Pansy explained as they stopped at the front desk. "Hey, Cho!"
"What can I do for you, Pans?" the pencil-stabbing woman from earlier asked as she swept her hair out of her eyes and readjusted the large blue blanket draped across her lap. It was only upon further examination that Hermione realized that the pretty Asian woman was wheelchair-bound.
"The higher powers finally noticed the fire burning under their butts and sent us a new agent."
An unspoken understanding passed between the two women and Cho wheeled away from them. When she returned, Cho presented Hermione with a small golden key with silver wings. She sent Hermione a quick smile before Pansy whisked Hermione away yet again, giving her no chance to examine the strange key that she had just received.
"Am I allowed to ask why she is in a wheelchair?" Hermione asked softly, clutching the key tightly in her hand.
"Mission gone, uh, horribly wrong. She was part of a Hogwarts unit under the supervision of Pomona Sprout," Pansy explained quietly as she ushered Hermione into an elevator and pressed the button for the ninth floor. "She and her four teammates - Marietta Edgecombe, Cedric Diggory, Anthony Goldstein, and Michael Corner - were on an undercover mission. We don't really know what happened, but by the time the rescue team arrived, it was too late and she was the only one alive. We found her with her legs under a steel beam, holding Cedric's body and screaming. Cedric was her fiancee, and they were to be married a week later."
Pansy clenched her fist.
"I was on the rescue team. We never found out who killed her team and none of us remember much about the night. I think we were drugged, or something? There's a lot of hush-hush around the case, although it is still open. Between everyone on the rescue team, there is only one thing that we all remember and it was that there was something wrong about the place they had been killed and we had to get the bodies out of there. Some of us think that we loaded the bodies into a van and drove to the nearest hospital, and others think that we were squatting at the place and waiting for more backup. Either way, none of us have any idea if the van made it to the hospital or whether backup ever came. We all woke up in our respective homes and the four bodies were in the morgue."
"That is all you remember?" Hermione asked, frowning. There was a lot that didn't add up. If they had been drugged, wouldn't there have been something in their bloodstream? And how did the bodies get there? And how did an entire rescue team manage to get drugged? And what exactly did 'something being wrong about the place' mean?
Pansy bit on her bottom lip, "No. I remember seeing a large snake. A large green snake. Nobody else remembers it though, so it could just be a hallucination, but it seemed very real."
The rest of the ride up to the ninth floor was quiet save for the opening and closing of the elevator as it slowly made its way up, dropping off people and picking up more people. Mere minutes later, the two women were standing in front of a metal utility door labeled NINE AND THREE-QUARTERS.
"This is the door to Hogwarts," Pansy exclaimed, pulling a key out of her pocket. "Our keys are engraved a long string of numbers that is scanned by the inner workings of the keyhole. I don't know who started it, but somewhere along the line we started calling our keys Snitches and this keyhole is the Seeker. Sounds pretty fantastical, doesn't it?"
Pansy slid the entire golden stem of her Snitch into the Seeker before even starting to turn it. After a few seconds, a light next to the box glowed green and she removed her Snitch. Tucking it back in her pocket, Pansy opened the door and escorted Hermione through.
Hogwarts carpeted in a simple beige that matched the walls. The baseboard trim looked to be an oak and both the doors and door frames looked to be the same. The center of the room housed a large, but low table, surrounded on three sides with chairs. To her left, there were three large windows which let in just the perfect amount of light to make the room seem light and airy. To her right, a gigantic screen was mounted to the wall, below which were two sinks, a mini-fridge, a microwave, and oven. Looking straight forwards, she saw three doors labeled with the names of the Auror Directors, and to each side of the main door were yellow sofas that clashed horribly with the rest of the interior. However, the thing that most-clashed with the interior was the horribly out-of-place graffiti painting of a fat lady, which was mounted on the middle door. She winced.
Pansy led her around the table and to the door marked Severus Snape, "The two offices to your left are for active agents and the three on your right lead to a conjoined lab. Door at the very back is for the Executive Auror Director. We better get you to Snape's office...he is a big stickler for tardiness and holds grudges against everyone, save the other active field agent."
The two walked down the hallway and to the far office.
"Good luck and I hope to see you soon," Pansy whispered, shooting her an evil grin before opening the door to her new boss' office and shoving her through.
XxxX
For some weird reason, I think that my pendant is having an off-day, Hermione sighed, fingering her four-leaf clover necklace as she slouched in her seat.
Bored out of her mind, she started tapping on her armrest, only to stop when her boss (a hook-nosed man who had only looked away from his computer long enough to crossly inform her that she was late) cleared his throat in a creepily menacing way. Hermione shivered. Just when it seemed like her partner would never show up and save her from the slow passage of time, the door to Snape's office swung open, admitting a tall and devilishly-handsome man with a jacket casually thrown over his shoulder.
His facial features were flawless, from his stunning mercurial eyes to his well-defined jaw and aristocratic nose. Platinum blonde hair topped his head in a simple cut. He was dressed in a white button-up shirt with the top two buttons tastefully undone, a pair of grey slacks, and black shoes that were polished to the point that you could probably see your reflection in them. Frankly, he was drop-dead gorgeous, and undeniable eye-candy. Ginny, her partner from the NYPD would've approved.
"Miss Granger, please meet Special Agent Draco Malfoy," her greasy-haired boss announced, closing his computer as the blonde sauntered over to his seat.
"Pleasure to meet you," he greeted, extending his hand with a suave smile.
Hermione's heart stopped cold and she closed her eyes, a headache starting to form as she pinched the bridge of her nose, refusing to shake his hand. "You mean to tell me that this guy, the Jerk Who Intentionally Sloshed Coffee Down My Blouse and Never Apologized, is my partner? You are effing kidding me."
"Who, me? You must be mistaken, my dearest Miss Granger. I would never do such a thing to a beautiful lady such as you, but should you wish to grab a coffee with me, we can meet at The Whomping Willow after work," he said, trailing off in a suggestive manner.
Hermione's eyes flew open, and she snapped, "I don't typically go on dates with sweet-talking, lying, conniving cockroaches."
Startled by the intensity, Draco dropped his hand to his side. His eyes fell upon the blouse draped on the arm of Hermione's chair. "So, that must be the legendary blouse, huh? Must have been a very tasteful mastermind who committed the crime...very artistic splatter. Now, what makes you think it was me that ruined it? I mean, we've just met, after all."
"I am sure that the footage provided by the twelve security cameras in the lobby will be extremely helpful in proving that you are the tasteful mastermind," Hermione answered confidently as she crossed her own arms, watching as Draco's smug face dropped off the face of the earth and was replaced by one of shock and guilt.
An expression that didn't last long.
"You paranoid freak! How the hell do you know how many security cameras there are in the lobby?" he demanded, regaining his composure as he threw the blouse back at her.
It was then her turn for a smug little smirk.
"Wow, really. Bluffing? I fell for bluffing? What an amateur trick," he scoffed, kicking himself as he realized what he had just done.
As Draco took a seat on the edge of his desk, Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and drawled, "Now that your childish dispute has been settled, we can finally get started. As I was saying earlier, you two are partners and I expect you to act civilly - or at least in my presence. If you want to kill each other in your free time, that is fine too. Just remember to fill out the paperwork afterwards. Next order of business..."
Hermione was tempted to gape at the man.
"Draco, Miss Granger will be your partner until any further notice. As for you, Miss Granger, I have met many psychologists and newcomers to our field, most of whom were and are an absolute disgrace. As such, I feel it necessary to tell you that I am not a believer in psychology, nor that I expect you to actually notice the subtle signs and exact art of psychology. Lastly, please keep in mind that there will be no foolish gun-waving or false psycho-babble on this unit. Understood?"
With a careless wave of his hand, the two agents were dismissed.
XxxX
It was pink, and not any kind of pink, but an exotic bubblegum-pink type of pink.
"This job is not going to work. My partner dumped coffee on me, my boss has no respect for me, and my office looks like a flamingo advertisement center. This was supposed to be the best day of my life..." Hermione muttered under her breath as she stared at the disastrously-bright color of her walls.
Draco chuckled, having overheard his fiery partner's little rant, "Welcome to your new home, Granger! Please meet Danny the Desk, Claire the Chair, Chester the Couch, Courtney the Coffee-Table, and the unnamed twin bookshelves. I am sure you will all get along well."
Hermione grunted, "I declare all those names void. And jeez, these walls seriously need to get repainted before my eyeballs are fried."
The new agent walked over to her bookshelf to examine the contents, and found herself just as unimpressed as she had been with the rest of the room. Plucking a very familiar book off the shelf, she held it up questioningly, "Who reads Goodnight Moon while working?"
The blonde snorted, "I was tempted to put Georgie Porgie there instead. I know the entire thing by heart. I quote, 'Georgie Porgie, pudding and pie, kissed the girls and made them cry-'"
Before the insensitive side of Hermione could jump up and punch Draco, mainly because he was annoying-cruel-unsympathetic, the door to her office opened and Draco stopped reciting.
"I would ask what Draco did this time, but I really don't want to know the answer do I?" Pansy sighed as she entered the room, followed by two young men in white lab coats. The first was a brown-haired Caucasian male with a square-cut jaw and a casual slouch. The other was a narrow-faced Italian of lightly sun-kissed skin and a pierced right ear. Both of them made themselves at home on the couch as Pansy perched herself on the edge of Hermione's desk. Draco continued to spin in her rolling chair.
It was silent for a few moments as Pansy examined her nails, "How was Snape? He can come off a little cold, but we all know that he is a cuddly teddy bear on the inside. Right, guys?"
Nobody nodded except for Draco.
"Anyways, I guess that we are a unit now. A team, really. It nice to have you on board, Hermione. The boys and I did a little digging while waiting for your meeting with Snape to finish. Almost all of your personal records were locked, some of them under some military red tape, but we were able to find out a little about you. Harvard graduate, was part of the NYPD crime scene unit, parents are Monica and William Granger, and a little more unimportant stuff. Would you like to tell us a little about yourself that can't be found in files?"
Had Pansy not seemed like such a nice person, Hermione would've been a little miffed that she had snooped on her file, but she figured that it wasn't that bad.
"The red tape you ran into is probably because of my father. Army veteran. Uh, I'm twenty-four and my favorite color is purple. Yeah."
"Ah, that explains it. Where did you grow up?"
"A little bit of everywhere, I guess. I moved around a lot. And there were a few other complications but you know how it is. So, pardon me sounding ignorant, but what do you guys," here Hermione gestured to the rest of the room's occupants, "do on the team? I figure lab for you two?"
"You are correct. I'm Theo and nice to have you on the team. You're a little young, but if you are as smart as you are beautiful," Hermione was tempted to laugh at the obviously flirtatious tone the handsome man had taken on, "I'm sure that won't be a problem. I specialize in slime and grime and entomology. I used to be a marine biologist and scuba diver, but hey. Dead bodies sounds like a party, doesn't it?"
Pansy shook her head, "Is there anyone you don't flirt with until after the first meeting?"
Theo shot her a saucy smile.
"So, how old are you all if I am considered young?" Hermione queried, joining Theo and the other man on the couch.
"Draco and Theo are twenty-eight, Blaise is twenty-nine, and I'm twenty-five," Pansy answered cheerfully.
"You are not," Theo laughed, throwing an arm around her neck and giving her a noogie. "Pretend as you may, but we all know you're a ripe old plum."
"Twenty-six is not old," Pansy argued, struggling to get out from under his arm, settling for elbowing him in the ribs. With a loud grunt, Theo released her and the bobbed woman sat up and straightened out her hair. "I also work in the lab, specialty is facial reconstructions and conflict mediation between the rest of these yogurt-heads. Used to be a linguist as I am fluent in both Italian and Spanish, and then a museum guide, but I got fired for dealing with a nuisance."
"Read, she kneed a guy where the sun doesn't shine," snickered the darker-skinned of the two male lab agents. "We've got the security tapes of it."
Pansy pouted at him.
"I'm Blaise," the still-snickering man introduced, holding out his hand to shake. "You're not the only one with a little red tape on your file. I majored in cyber security and might've used my skills to be a hacker-for-hire, but hey, I am very much-so reformed. Read, I've been pardoned of my crimes. I worked as a cyber security analyst for a while after I was cleared, but now I work in programming, tracking people down, research and analyzing, and puking when Draco does his little dissection-thingy."
"Autopsy...not a dissection. Besides, Blaise, I am not fully certified to perform autopsies," Draco corrected, stopping his incessant spinning. "The quick rundown of my life. Graduated from Stanford University and the UCSF School of Medicine, received my doctorate, worked at Stanford, arrived here two years ago and became a field agent. I am not yet certified to autopsy, but am working on that during the weekends. That being said, get used to seeing bloody goop and bone bits."
"I'm sure she has never seen a dead body before," Pansy snarked with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "I mean, crime scene unit totally doesn't spell out dead bodies..."
Draco frowned, then turned to Hermione.
"The first few months or even year is going to be pretty lax, but I can promise you...when we really get started, whatever you saw working with the crime scene unit was just the icing on the cake. It only gets worse from then on. Welcome to the fucking team."
With that, Draco tossed his jacket over his shoulder and strode out of the room, the door closing soundly behind him and leaving nothing but the smell of his cologne.
Pansy rolled her eyes.
"He has a bit of a flair for the dramatic."
Inspiration Song: "River Flows in You" by Yiruma
A Special Thank You To: ApriltelloIsMyOTP, who encouraged me and gave me advice, though he has never read the Harry Potter series!
A bit of an information dump, but I am setting up the story and the intrigue, as well as the overarching plot line hiding under minor cases. I promise future chapters will be easier to follow. The FBI Director is indeed made up, as FanFiction doesn't typically approve of us using real people. You will notice that Blaise typically speaks with the explanatory word "read" and that aspect of his speech pattern is based on an elderly lady I met on a family vacation. Margot if you are reading this, which I highly doubt, you are awesome.
To anyone who wants to see a schematic of how the offices are laid out, please check out my DeviantArt. Also, I did reference some of Snape's lines from the movie during his little speech to Hermione. Also, yes, I am writing psychobabble in here. As I stated before, I am not a psychologist, so anyone who is one is invited to give me critique. Greatly appreciated!
Please pardon any mistakes, as I normally edit my own work, but feel free to give me a gentle correction if you see a glaring error.
