Very short story we have here… and by short I mean probably a two shot… although this is the longest chapter I've ever written I think. Just a random story now that I've finished Catalyst, and before I start my new Dark Harry fic, that Draco Potter has been telling me for a while now.

Currently Beta'd

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The young girl in the flash back is named for one of my beta's – Noel Cullen, as a thank you for going back to all my old stories, and fixing them.

Hope you enjoy

Chrys

HGDMHGDM-HGDMHGDM

"Draco… Draco open this door… I know you're in there." Hermione shouted at the front door to his flat. After the war was over he had left the manor, as he had nothing but unhappy memories whilst he lived here. He had bought a decent size flat near the Ministry, where he worked as an auror, with his partner, Hermione Granger.

Hermione shook her head and pulled out her wand, muttering a quick alohamora, she entered his home and looked around. It certainly wasn't the first time she had ever been in his home, in fact over the last three years of working as his partner she had spent quite a bit of time there, for research, for parties… and a number of other things.

When she didn't find him in the living room, kitchen, dinning room or study, she decided that he must really be sick and still in bed. She knocked softly on the door, "Are you decent?" she asked quietly, figuring that if he was asleep she wouldn't wake him up, and if he was already awake then he would be able to answer her.

A muffled groan came from behind the door, causing her to open the door and close it behind her quietly. There laying on the bed, was her partner. Who, if he hadn't looked as if he was about to die from the plague, was so damn good looking, she would have contemplated jumping him… which she did contemplate daily but had never followed through. Draco laid there, completely naked from the waist up, his legs clad in what looked like silk lounge pants, amongst his black satin sheets that were thrown every which way, and were doing no good to cool him down or warm him up.

Hermione moved to the bed and sat down next to him, and placed a cool hand on his burning forehead. Draco who had been to busy being extremely uncomfortable and annoyed at how sick he was hadn't noticed that she had come in, until her skin met his. His eyes opened immediately and latched on to hers, causing her to give him a softly smile as she brushed his beautiful blond hair out of his eyes and off of his sweat drenched forehead.

"You're burning up," she said simply.

"I noticed," he replayed slightly sarcastic but not nearly to the extent of his days at Hogwarts. Something about the past few years had soothed him. He was no longer the scared little boy who cursed the world, but rather a strong man. He was still sarcastic, and witty, but it wasn't malicious, simply funny.

"Would you like me to brew a potion for you?" she asked him, silently thinking about how if it had been three years ago she wouldn't have cared if he died of his fever… now it mattered.

"No, it won't work… speaking of work, why aren't you there?" he asked, closing his eyes, and silently enjoying her cool hand against his burning skin.

She stroked her hand down his face, "Number one rule: you don't do anything without your partner, remember? You take a day off, making me take a day off… not that I'm complaining or anything," she replayed, "And why wouldn't a potion work, I'm sure I could correctly brew it for you, I'm not that bad at potions."

"I wasn't insulting your potion making skills, Granger. It has to do with my body… and the ingredients for the potions that cure colds and flus." He was cold yet hot, burning and freezing all at the same time and he no idea what to do about it. So he lay there and shivered as the sweat fell from his body drenching his sheets.

"Ok, how about this, I'll go run you a bath, which well help with the fever and the chills, and while you're in there you can tell me just why a potion won't work."

"You don't have to stay with me Granger, I've managed to live with the flu before your help you know," he was pushing her away, trying to make her leave so that she wouldn't see him at his weakest… frankly she wasn't having any of it.

"I know that, I'm not trying to insult your ability to shake off a fever without me Draco. I'm just here to help, and since I grew up a muggle, I do know the muggle way to cure a flu." She got up then, pulling her hand away that had been resting on his face. He instantly regretted the loss of contact. "I'll be right back." She said to him and moved towards his bathroom.

When she returned she was holding a pair of his swim trunks, which had been laying on the counter of the bathroom as well as a set of cotton sheets that she had apparated home to snatch.

He opened one eye and watched her come back towards him, "What's all that for?"

"I put a relaxing potion in the water, and charmed it so it would stay the perfect temperature. The trunks are so I can talk to you while you're in the bath, and just incase you fall asleep if I need to levitate you out, you will be covered. I'm going to replace the sheets on your bed with these, "she said pointing to the set of navy blue cotton sheets, "because that satin is not going to do any good with you trying to sweat out your fever… cotton works much better."

He nodded but still didn't move, simply closed his eye and relaxed.

"Would you like to put the trunks on or are you going to make me do it?" She asked holding him in one hand, the other on her hip.

"Wouldn't that defeat the purpose of the trunks if you put them on me?" he asked, a small smirk forming on his lips.

"As much as you want to be naked in front of me, Draco now is not the time… now is the time for you to put on the trunks and get into the tub."

"Are you always this bossy or do you just like me?" he asked sitting up slowly and pulling the shorts out of her hands.

"Both… now hurry up." She said pointing at the bathroom door.

A confused look crossed his face as he lifted himself off the bed and moved into the bathroom, gently closing the door behind him.

Hermione shook her head, does he always have to be this stubborn… I swear if he were dying and I was holding the antidote, he would fight me tooth and nail before taking it…

She pulled out her wand again and made a wide sweep of it over the bed, causing the satin sheets to come off and land in a pile by the door. She then flicked her wand at the pile of cotton sheets in her hand and they found themselves on the bed, followed by a blanket and a comforter.

"Slinky" she called softly, knowing the head house elf would quickly pop up into the room. When she did Hermione greeted her and asked her kindly to take the satin sheets away and get them cleaned. Slinky bowed her head and quickly did as she was told.

Hermione then moved to the door to the bathroom and knocked. At Draco's, "come in," she opened the door and slipped inside, catching sight of Draco relaxing against the rim of the tub, letting the water calm him as well as warm him up.

"Better?" she asked as she took a seat on the edge of the tub facing him.

"Much, but I can think of a way to make it even better…" he replied a sly look coming across his face.

"How's that?" she asked wondering just what was on his mind.

"If you were in here with me…"

She laughed softly and rolled her eyes, "Your inches from death, with the worst flu I've seen in a long time, and your trying to seduce me… nope you haven't changed one bit."

He shrugged, "Would you want me to?"

She shook her head, "How about instead, we talk about why you can't take a potion to clear all of this up…"

He lifted his left arm out of the water and stared at the scarred skin. When Voldemort had died the tattoo of every death eater went with him… but left behind an ugly burned forearm. "The summer after sixth year… Voldemort was testing out a potion, which would make the drinker immune to veritaserum. Because I failed him, he decided to use me as his test subject, not caring what side effects it left me with. In the end he never found what he was looking for, maybe because Snape had been telling him lies, or he just couldn't figure it out, but it never worked. Instead I became immune to any potion that uses wormwood… which as I'm sure you know, is the main ingredient to any potion dealing with the immune system."

"Fuck…" Hermione cursed under her breath.

"Yeah," He replied, letting his headrest against the edge of the tub as he floated there.

"Are you hungry at all?" She asked, attempting to find other ways to make him feel better.

"Extremely, but I haven't been able to keep anything down."

"What were you trying to eat?"

"My usual three-cheese omelet, with sausage, bell peppers, bacon, and avocado."

"No wonder you couldn't keep it down…" she sat back against the wall for a moment, "Slinky?" she called again.

The elf popped into the room, "What can I do for you Miss. Hermione?"

"Would you prepare a double helping of my usual breakfast please, along with some crackers, and two cups of Orange Juice, and place them on the table next to Draco's bed?"

"Of course Miss Hermione." She was gone again with a pop.

"I thought you hated having Slinky do anything for you?" Draco asked without opening his eyes.

"I do, but since you warded your kitchen so that I can't go in there and make my own damn food, I have to ask her to do it." She responded.

"You don't really think I'm going to be able to hold down that Peanut butter banana toast concoction that you usually eat, do you?"

"Hey, don't knock it till you try it. And yes, as a matter of fact I do think you'll be able to hold it down. The peanut butter will coat your stomach, so you feel more full than you are, the bread with give your stomach something solid to digest, and the bananas will help your immune system." Her hand idly swirled in the water above his leg, creating odd rippling patterns.

Draco was much too tired to argue with her. Any other day, they would have already have been in a heated debate about something or another, but right now all he wanted to do was curl up into a ball and catch up on the sleep that his illness had prevented him from receiving the night before.

Later he would blame his next question on lack of sleep, but currently his burning brain wanted to know something, "Why do you call me Draco?"

Hermione's hand stopped in the water, and her eyes caught his now open ones. "It is your name isn't it?"

"Well, no shit… but that's not what I asked. Why do you use it? What made you stop calling me by my last name…? I still call you 'Granger."

It felt as if Hermione's heart stopped for a few seconds. How the hell was she supposed to answer that? "I still call you 'Malfoy' some of the time." That's right… avoid the question.

"Only when your angry." He pointed out, as if it were the most obvious statement.

She paused again, "Um… Fine. You aren't Malfoy to me any more."

Draco was confused… he was still Malfoy, he always had been, "It is mean to confuse your partner, especially when he is as sick as I am."

She rolled her eyes again, a trait she had picked up when she spent long amounts of time in the presence of her partner… which was pretty much every day for the past three years. "Malfoy… Malfoy was the asshole from school, the one that couldn't stand Harry, or Ron or me. Malfoy was the highest degree of prat known to the face of the earth. And I hated Malfoy. You aren't Malfoy any more. We get along… even if we do argue, we still get along. You and Harry, while not 'Best friends' can work together with out throwing insults around. And no matter what you think of yourself, you are not the world's biggest prat anymore… That's why I call you Draco."

"I still can't stand Ron." He said as if that argument negated the rest of the reasons she listed.

"That's alright, I don't get along with him either. Especially since Luna fucked with his mind, and he now believes in Nargles and other imaginary creatures…"

"He really did get the short end of the stick when he got her as a partner. Harry got Ginny, you got me, and Ron got Luna."

"And yet years ago, they were saying they were sorry for me, for having to put up with your arrogant ass…"

He just grinned at her, "You guys were looking at my ass? I knew those two were poofs."

She would have hit his arm at that comment, but chose to roll her eyes… again.

The room was silent for a few moments. Hermione could faintly hear the elves in the other room putting the food down. She stood up to go and check on it when Draco said something that surprised her. "Are you bothered that I still call you by your last name?"

She turned to him, her eyes raking over his dangerously beautiful face. She closed her eyes, as if in pain, and gathered her breath, "I'm used to it."

When Draco opened his eyes to tell her to stop avoiding the question, she was gone.

Hermione stood stock still in his bedroom, appearing to watch the food, but her mind was far, far away. Did it bother her that he still called her 'Granger'? To be honest? YES. She hated it. To her it meant that he still saw her as the buck-toothed bushy-haired bookworm that she was in school. She looked at herself in the mirror and couldn't even see that girl anymore.

She had filled out, grown up. She stood at a decent 5' 7", her hair was soft and curly, and hadn't been bushy in years. She wasn't a toothpick, but she was in no way fat, and she didn't dress anywhere near as conservatively as she used too. Take her current outfit for instance. Bright blue tank top, which showed off just enough cleavage, and a thin strip of her stomach. Paired with some black boot cut jeans, and blue ballet flats. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, and she had enough make-up on to emphasize her honey brown eyes.

She wasn't anything like the girl she was back in school. Books didn't hold every answer. She went out, and she partied. She even learned to enjoy Quidditch. She wasn't Granger any more… But it seemed like Draco wasn't planning on noticing any time soon.

She finally pulled herself out of her thoughts and moved over to the bed, pulling the covers back, and placed a charm on the food to stay warm. She went to the closet by the hall and grabbed the biggest, fluffiest towel she could find, which of course was silver and black and had a huge snake on it, before going back into the bathroom.

"Time to get up," she told him, holding out the towel.

Draco stayed silent and slowly got up, and took the towel from her. By the time he finished drying himself off he had the chills again, and wanted to get into bed. Before he could ask her to leave the room so he could change into some dry pants, she pointed her wand at him, and wordlessly changed his wet swim trunks into a pair of dry cotton pjs.

He gave her a thin smile and followed her out of the room, practically diving into this bed under the covers and pulling them up.

"You've got to eat before you sleep, Ma…Draco." she had to stop herself from calling him Malfoy, a sure sign that she wasn't happy with him. She knew it was stupid for her to be disappointed that he still called her Granger, but being a girl and prone to emotional mood swings, had to put up with it.

Draco shivered, "Could you hand me a T-shirt out of the bottom drawer over there… I'm really cold."

Hermione grabbed a black T-shirt and handed it to him as she took a seat on the chair that Slinky had put next to Draco's rather large bed. She flicked her wand and several things happened at once. A breakfast table found itself on Draco's lap, holding his food, the blinds covering all the windows were opened to let the light in, and the temperature of the room rose a good ten degrees.

Draco looked down at his food, and picked up the glass of juice, taking a small sip of it. He looked over to Hermione to find her already half way done with her breakfast. It can't be that horrible if she eats it almost every morning right? He thought to himself as he picked up the toast and took a bite.

HGDMHGDM-HGDMHGDM

(Three hours later)

Hermione sat in her chair next to Draco, who was currently fast asleep, huddled under pretty much every blanket in the house. She was watching the large flat screen TV she had helped him pick out a last year for Christmas.

Dogma was on, a movie that Draco and her loved to watch, yet she found it less than intriguing at the moment. Instead of the movie, she watched Draco, and let her mind wander to the last three years as his partner. No matter what problems they ever had on a personal level, they always worked well together. Both pulled their own weight, they never got in the other's way, and somehow they tended to think alike. She couldn't count how many times they had both shown up for work, found one tidbit of information, that no one else thought was important, and had both solved the case instantly, without even talking to the other one.

Once they had moved past the petty insults, he really was quite easy to work with, and while they didn't go so far as to finish each other's sentences… at least not most of the time, they always seemed to be on the same wavelength.

It had taken one year, eight months, thirteen days, ten hours, and approximately twenty-two minutes to realize that she was madly in love with him. They had been on a raid, of a former death eater's house, one of the few who hadn't been picked up after the war. Hermione went left, Draco right, and moved through the house as quietly as possible.

Draco had found a small girl, in the corner of what appeared to be a child's bedroom. She had a few cuts on her face and the outline of a hand on her cheek. When she had caught sight of Draco she launched herself into his arms, and wouldn't let go. He couldn't even get her to take a Portkey to the Ministry. Instead of force the child to take the Portkey, he put it away and shifted her to his hip, his left hand curling around her protectively. He left the room and continued around the house. Hermione saw him again across a large ballroom. He was on one side, she on the other, the perp in the middle, attempting to floo out of the house. When the Death Eater realized that they had blocked off the floo network, he pulled his wand on them, attempting to fight his way out. He never stood a chance.

Hours later, once the house had been swept for evidence, the man was sent to a holding cell in Azkaban, and all statements were taken, the child, who's name was Noel, was fast asleep on Draco's shoulder. Her face was buried in his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist, and her hands still clamped tightly to his shirt. While Hermione was sure that by now his arm was very tired of holding her up, he hadn't even tried to put her down. He held her close and asked for the people around them to talk more quietly so as not to wake her.

They were waiting for Noel's mother to show up, to pick up the kidnapped girl when Draco had turned to her and complimented her on Sandex curse. The sight of him with a child in his arms, grinning and giving her a complement, nearly brought her to her knees in the realization that she loved him.

"What time is it?" a groggy Draco asked from beside her.

"About 1pm." She answered him. "How do you feel?"

"Like I am in a sauna," he was kicking off all of the blankets now, he even pulled off the black shirt she had handed him earlier and was fanning himself.

Hermione grabbed her wand and lowered the room temperature back to what it had been before he claimed to be freezing to death.

"You don't have to stay you know…"

Hermione looked at him, a flash of hurt briefly crossed her face. "I know I don't have to do anything. I'm your friend Draco, I'm just trying to help." She paused for a second but when he didn't say anything she continued, "Slinky made you some soup, which if your hungry I'll go grab, and then you can go back to sleep, or we can watch a movie, or read, or something."

"You're not my GIRLFRIEND, Granger. I don't need you to baby me; I don't need you to take care of me. I don't need you to do anything. I don't need you. You're my partner at work… That's it." Draco practically yelled.

Hermione's world crashed and burned right in front of her eyes, and she didn't even try to stop it. She loved him, they were friends, and they hung out a lot. Yet to him, that's all she was. A partner.

She wanted to scream at him, yell at him, cry over him, punch him in the face or hex him into oblivion, anything to make the pain stop. But she didn't. Where she suddenly found all the self-control in the world, neither of them would ever know.

She wanted to call him a liar. They were friends, and had been for some time. They had confided secrets with each other. They went to movies; watched Quidditch matches, and drank together. He had been the one that she ran to when Ron broke up with her. She had stood next to him at his father's funeral. They were more than partners…

Hermione calmly stood up, placed the remote on the bed near his hand, and walked out of the room.

HGDMHGDM-HGDMHGDM

What do you think? Like I said probably a two shot, maybe a few more… who knows?

Review pretty please.