Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own any other characters in J.K. Rowling's original series.

Author's Note: This is my second Draco and Hermione story, my first being Forbidden Necessities and I'm extremely excited because this story is basically a matured version of both Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. I don't plan my stories out at all beforehand, so everything just flows from my head when I think of it. This is probably why my updates take a little longer than most, but don't worry you will get an update; I'm just thinking. Let me know what your thoughts were on the first chapter.

Chapter One: Aurors

Rubbing the temples of her forehead with both of her index fingers, Hermione Granger exhaled a long sigh and stretched her spine backwards in her seat. Her slender arms raised above her head and her wavy brown hair fell down the back of her chair as she cracked her knuckles above her head. The grandfather clock that stood against the only wall that wasn't occupied by desks or filing cabinets had both hands pointing upwards at the twelve, reminding Hermione that she had gone over her normal work schedule by seven hours - Harry would not be pleased with her if he found her still in her office at this time.

Perhaps I should call it a night, she thought to herself. Lifting her aching body from the high-backed chair, Hermione crept across her cluttered office and lifted her tote bag and plaid coat from the hooks on the back of the door. After shuffling through piles of parchment and selecting a few cases to look over that night in bed, Hermione slid her jacket over her arm and tiptoed from her office into the corridors of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

The only sound coming from the seemingly deserted corridors of the second level were the sounds of the fluttering wings of the memos shaped as airplanes, swooping in loops around the ceilings and waiting for their receivers to return in the morning. Feeling relieved, Hermione began to creep towards the telephone box that acted as a lift. She felt as if a large weight had been lifted off her chest; before she heard the sound of a door opening to her left - the Head Auror's office.

"Shit," she muttered. Hermione turned to see Harry Potter yawning widely as he exited the office, his robes slung over one arm with his black wool coat thrown his shoulder. He blinked sleepily and waited until his eyes had readjusted before he realized he was not the only person standing on the second level. His emerald eyes widened, then his brow furrowed as he muttered a Locking Charm onto his door.

"Hermione, what are you still doing here?" Harry asked, the tone of his voice warning her to have a very good reason for staying seven hours later than she was supposed to.

Hermione frowned. Harry had remained her best friend since their first year and had the two had always been extremely supporting of one another; Harry had been co-captain of S.P.E.W. when Hermione had briefly decided to launch the campaign to fight against house-elf slavery once more. He had barely changed since their seventh year; the same uncontrollably black hair, the same sparkling emerald eyes framed with thin spectacles and the same cheerful smile. The only differences was that he now stood at six foot two and was much broader in his chest and shoulders.

Hermione adjusted the strap of her tote bag on her shoulder and sighed. "I know, I know. I stayed a bit late again…"

Harry snorted. "A bit? Hermione, this is the third time this week that you've been leaving at the same time I have. And I almost always leave at midnight or one," he said with a frown.

"There's just a lot of chaos in the department right now, that's all. I'm sure Wesley, Blaise and I will have everything sorted out by the end of the week," Hermione promised.

Harry shook his head. "You always have to be the hard worker, don't you? Never changed a bit." He grinned and rested a hand on the small of Hermione's back. "There are things called breaks though, you know."

Hermione smiled and walked towards the telephone box, her shoulder straining to hold the weight of the parchments, quills and bottles of ink. She pressed the down button and turned to face Harry. "It's my job, Harry. I've prepared for this my entire life. Why else would I be going to Hogwarts?"

"To learn about magic? To become a successful witch? To rule the world?" Harry said with a childish grin.

Hermione laughed and rolled her eyes at the last suggestion. "You know me so well, Harry." At her words, the lift raised to their level and the bright red doors swung open. Hermione stepped in, followed by Harry and a small cluster of paper plane memos. Hermione pressed the eighth floor button and the lift raised once more.

"I don't want to see you in the office a minute past five this entire week, you hear me?" Harry said, his voice stern but a smile on his face.

Hermione smiled and blushed. "I can't promise anything."

The lift stopped and the doors swung open once more to reveal the atrium. The familiar fountain stood gleaming in the middle of the atrium, and there wasn't a person in sight. Hermione was used to this by now, since she and Harry were usually the last ones out. She raised her eyes to the lifts that would lead her outside and began to walk towards them when she felt Harry's hand rest on her shoulder.

"I have a business proposal for you," he said, suddenly very serious.

Hermione perked up at the thought of doing something specifically towards an extremely praised department of the Ministry, but her chest fell at the idea of having even more work to do. Although she knew what she was getting into when she had been given the job in the Improper Use of Magic division, she didn't expect to be so unorganized. Her office appeared to have a tornado of parchments and folders travel through it at the end of every day, and it didn't help that she shared her office with her equally messy partner, Blaise. Nonetheless, she took a large breath of oxygen and turned to face Harry.

"What's that?" she asked curiously.

"I'll tell you tomorrow, when you've had a good night's rest." Harry beamed. "I just thought I would tell you before so it's not a surprise."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Thank you for getting me all riled up and then sending me away," she muttered.

Harry laughed. "Hey, I'm not Ron," he scoffed with a grin.

Hermione glared. She and Ron had "dated" for three years, if what they had going on classified as dating. They had slept together numerous times, spent the night and morning at one another's homes, and even had stay-in dates where no sex was involved. However, Ron had continuously cheated on her with numerous women over the three year span, broken her heart endlessly over and over again, and even screamed at her once or twice. She always seemed to go back to him in the end, though; she wasn't proud of that.

Again, Harry had been the supporting friend. Despite the fact that Hermione and Ron were his two best friends, Harry was always able to talk to them separately and give them logical answers to their frustrations, concerns and issues. Whenever Hermione had a problem, Harry was the first person she went to. It wasn't because she didn't have any female friends; she did - Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood. However, they were younger and were more interested in which celebrity said what in the world of magic and therefore she rarely went to them for advice.

"Well, I should really be getting home," Harry said after a quick glance at his watch. "Ginny will be waiting, as usual. Are you alright getting home?"

Hermione nodded her response and Harry placed a single kiss on the top of her head before he made his way to one of the fireplaces used for the Floo Network. Hermione watched as he disappeared in a flash of green flames before she pushed a button for another lift and waited for it in silence, her mouth stretching into ovals as she yawned.

The lift arrived shortly after her first yawn, and the doors closed right before her second. Thankfully, as she stepped out of the phone booth after her third yawn, she immediately felt awake from the blast of cold air that hit her face. She shivered in the breeze and clutched the collar of her grey plaid coat closer around her face, hurrying into the alley next to the phone booth.

"Bloody weather," she mumbled before she turned on the spot and Apparated to the front door of her home, six blocks from the Ministry's location. Hermione smiled as she saw the familiar silver and gold striped doorknob of her front door. She gazed from the tall oak doors to the red and brown bricks, and the black shutters to the towering roof. It was a miracle for her to find this beautiful - and inexpensive - home only two years prior, and she had transformed it into a particularly comfortable environment. Pushing open the front door, Hermione sighed as the blast of warmth from inside hit her face and she closed the door quickly to trap the warmth in.

Removing her coat and tossing it on the coat rack next to the door, Hermione kicked off her boots and made her way directly upstairs with her tote bag of notes in hand. Normally she would make herself a warm cup of tea and prepare a plate of biscuits, but she was simply too tired for any of that tonight. Her feet ached on each step she practically crawled up the staircase, and Crookshanks' furry orange body slithered between her legs each time she took a step.

With the bedroom to the right of her, Hermione pushed open the door and sighed. The fireplace was lit from the morning still, to her surprise, and she didn't even bother to change into pyjamas as she removed her black slacks and white jumper, throwing them on a heap on the ground beside her tossed tote bag and climbed into her silky, wearing only her undergarments.

"Perhaps I could have a look at those cases," she mumbled, sinking into the plush bed and stroking Crookshanks slowly. She settled back against her pillows and her head slowly began to sink into them. She never got to the cases after all because her head hit the pillow and she was out before she could even reconsider looking at them.

***

Hermione was awoken the next morning by her alarm clock, which caused her to throw her arm up over her head and slam down on it. Crookshanks hissed and jumped from the bed to hide underneath it, her large amber eyes peering out from the blackness.

"Sorry Crookshanks," Hermione mumbled, throwing her covers back and sitting up. She yawned widely and peered outside the window of her bedroom. It was still dark outside, which was to be expected at six-thirty in the morning. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stood up to pad over to the attached en suite. She turned the hot and cold taps until a neutral warm was found, then shed the remnants of her undergarments and stepped into the shower's warmth. The hot water immediately woke her up, and she took her time washing her thick hair, soaped up the rest of her body and then shaved her legs.

Feeling refreshed, Hermione stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a big fluffy white towel. She combed leave-in conditioner through her waves, secured her hair in a bun at the top of her head, and walked into her bedroom once more to look through her closet. She always had a hard time picking clothes for work; it's not like she had no clothes, oh no. She had hundreds of different choices, but she had never been the most fashionable person. She hardly knew what looked good anymore.

"Shit," Hermione muttered as she thumbed through the racks of clothing. Finally, she found a high-waisted black skirt and a silk white blouse which she brought over to the bed and began to change into. Judging by the way the trees bended into one another on the other side of her window, she knew it would be windy and nippy today so she slid on some pantyhose as well.

At seven-thirty, Hermione was completely ready for work but still had an hour to kill before she was expected to be there. She decided she would visit her favourite little pastry shop four blocks away on her way there. She slid on some black pumps, folded her work robes and stashed them into her tote bag along with the cases she told herself she would look at before bed. Grabbing her coat, wallet and keys, Hermione slid out of the door after throwing Crookshanks a small handful of treats and locked it behind her.

Though it was windy, it wasn't too cold, so Hermione took the opportunity of the breezy conditions to remove her hair from the elastic and let it air dry as she walked. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, so a dreary grey sky welcomed Hermione as she made her way down the street. A few people she who lived on the same street as her smiled as she passed them, and she nodded back with a smile to show her hello.

The pastry shop was quite crowded, which she had already expected. They were extremely popular among witches and wizards of the Ministry because not only were the owners a married witch and wizard couple, but the pastry shop was so close to headquarters of the Ministry. It was a comfortable, quaint little shop filled with clusters of plush seats and sofas, coffee tables, and mostly wizards. Some were so noticeably wizards that they hadn't even bothered to stuff their robes in their bags for safekeeping and donned the emerald, ruby and sapphire colours.

"Good morning, Miss Granger," said Mr. Mathers. Mr. Mathers and his wife owned the shop, and were both reaching the ripe old age of ninety. They looked fresh and youthful, though, as Hermione thought they both looked to be only fifty years old.

"Good morning," Hermione said cheerfully.

"What can I get you today?" he asked, rubbing his hands together as he hovered over the cash register.

"A large coffee, two creams and one sugar, and an egg, cheese and ham biscuit," she said, reaching into her bag to bring out her wallet.

Mr. Mathers tapped numbers into the cash register and then asked Hermione - quietly, so the Muggles in the shop wouldn't hear - for ten Sickles. She handed them over and retrieved her food and coffee, turning to find a seat somewhere within the shop. There was a single table by the window with a newspaper on it, and she quickly made her way over there before it was stolen.

"Good morning," a familiar male voice said. Lifting her head, Hermione beamed up at Blaise Zabini. If she had still been attending Hogwarts, she would have been completely thrown off by the courteous greeting from the former best friend of Draco Malfoy. However, Blaise now worked in the same department as Hermione at the Ministry and the two got along quite well inside and outside of work; they were also considered "partners" since the two shared the same office. Though Hermione hated to admit it, Blaise was extremely attractive, his skin smooth and creamy like milk chocolate and his eyes dark and passionate. He was well-built and tall, and had a gleaming white smile that could be seen around the room.

"Care to join me?" Hermione asked after taking a sip of her coffee. She watched as Blaise turned to bring a chair from another table over and placed it on the opposite side of Hermione, taking a seat and setting his own coffee down. He began peeling the wrapper of his muffin off and didn't say anything to Hermione for a moment as she gazed over the front page of the Muggle newspaper.

"There's no Prophets in here?" Blaise said in a murmur, glancing up to see if Hermione had heard him.

"Mr. Mathers keeps them behind the counter for those who want them that badly. We're not supposed to be exposing them too much to the Muggles who come into the shop," Hermione murmured back, smiling and turning the page to look through the comics. "I'm used to these newspapers, though."

"Oh right, with your parents and everything." Blaise had had a very sudden change of attitude after his mother, a beautiful, famous and extremely wealthy witch, had passed away four years ago. He was no longer arrogant and chose to speak to every single person rather than those who were strictly proud pure bloods.

Hermione merely nodded and began to unwrap the packaging of her breakfast, lost in thought of the work she must endure today. She knew that although she had promised Harry she wouldn't spend any overtime at the office, she would anyway. Harry should know better than to tell Hermione Granger not to do extra work; it was in her blood.

Chewing on her biscuit thoughtfully, Hermione ran her fingers over the top of the table and sighed. The warmth from her food and her coffee immediately spread through her body and diminished the cold she felt from the weather outside. She barely even noticed that Blaise had been speaking to her until she looked over at him and saw his eyebrows raised and his hands extended as if he was awaiting a reply.

Hermione swallowed. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"I said have you found anything new on the Douglas case?" Blaise repeated.

"Oh!" Hermione wiped her mouth on her napkin before she continued. "Well, I found out that he set up his stepdaughter by placing her under the Imperius Curse and ordering her to steal all of the towels from the poolside."

"Did he also make her put the Grindylows in the pool?" Blaise asked thoughtfully.

Hermione nodded. "And this was all from the single Squib who was at the pool that day. Wonderful elderly woman named Mrs. Potts. She helped us a lot on the whole thing."

"How did she know that Douglas put his stepdaughter under the Curse?" Blaise questioned.

"Mrs. Potts also happens to be the next door neighbour of the two. She noticed that the stepdaughter was acting much calmer than usual, which would be strange for a twelve year old, and that she didn't seem to be answering her questions correctly."

"Well then." Blaise smiled. "There's one case that is pretty much done with, right?"

Hermione nodded again. "It was the hardest case, as well. I'm so pleased that it's over with."

Blaise clapped the crumbs out of his hands and glanced at his watch. "It's eight twenty-five. Shall we head to the office?" he asked.

Hermione had just stuffed the last bite of her biscuit into her mouth, so she nodded and chewed before standing up and grabbing her coffee to bring with her. The two of them exited the pastry shop just as a Muggle couple came strolling in with a baby, who Blaise held the door open for.

Walking in silence the entire time for the next two blocks, Hermione went into the telephone box first to avoid suspicion of both of them going in for the Muggles. She dialled M-A-G-I-C, stated which floor she was going to, and quickly descended into the ground below. A wave of calmness flooded over her body as she pressed her back against the wall of the telephone booth, pleased to be out of the cold and into the warmth of the underground headquarters.

Arriving on the correct level, Hermione stepped out and joined the hustle and bustle of the others who were rushing here and there to their correct destinations. Hermione waved casually at a group of Aurors who she knew only by their first names and attempted to dart past Harry's office without being seen. Unfortunately, she was caught.

"Hermione, you're here! Come in, come in," she heard him say behind her back. Wincing, Hermione turned on the heel of her foot and walked back towards Harry's office with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She was welcomed by Harry, who was seated at his large desk and had his hands folded on top of a small stack of files. He smiled and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before he spoke.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said.

"Do you recall what I told you last night?"

Hermione paused for a moment and ran the memory through her head. She remembered Harry had mentioned something regarding a case for her, yet he never continued on with his idea and told her he would tell her the following day.

"Something regarding a case for me?" Hermione said hesitantly, folding her hands nervously in front of her.

"Precisely. Have a seat," he suggested, waving a hand at the chair on the opposite side of his desk. Hermione sank into it slowly, removing her coat in the process, and folded her hands in her lap. Normally, she would not be nervous about the idea of a new case; she welcomed new cases warmly. However, the fact that Harry - Head Auror - was specifically requesting that she work on this case frightened her just a bit.

Harry leaned forward onto the edge of his seat and folded his hands. His eyes were darting back and forth across Hermione's face as he studied her expression, obviously unsure of where to begin. Hermione merely sat and waited until the first words escaped Harry's mouth.

"You need a vacation."

"Pardon?"

"I said you need a vacation." Harry stood up and crossed his arms over his chest, pacing in a circle around his chair. "I know you would never go on a vacation simply for the sake of going on one, which is why I have created it into a work-related vacation."

Hermione frowned. "I don't understand what that means."

"It means that you will be spending time away from the office, yet working on a case while you are away," Harry explained. "The case was given to me for the Aurors to work on, but I decided that taking you and an Auror would boost the ability to solve the crime."

"It deals with the misuse of magic, doesn't it?" Hermione asked cautiously.

Harry chuckled. "Of course it does. I wouldn't put you on the case if it didn't," he said.

"I suppose," Hermione said. She shifted in her seat and then crossed her arms over her chest. "What is the case?"

Harry smiled and reached into his bag to retrieve a small filing folder from within it. He opened it and placed a single newspaper clipping from the Daily Prophet so the face on the page was staring back at her. Hermione studied the woman for a minute, and realized how obvious her Veela heritage was; her hair was pale blonde, shiny and smooth down her back, her skin was pure white, and her eyes were large and round. She was enchantingly beautiful, and Hermione immediately hated her for it.

"Her name is Cora Monsir. She's an Animagus and part Veela who has been on the run for months because she is the main suspect in the murders of twenty-seven witches and forty wizards," Harry explained.

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "How has she not been caught?"

Harry smiled. "Did you not hear me before? She's an Animagus, Hermione. An unregistered one, like my dad, Sirius and Lupin were. And she's a very talented one because she can take the shape of absolutely any creature she wants."

Hermione frowned. "Why does this involve me, again?" she asked.

"Because we believe that she's been leaving a trail for Aurors to follow her through the misuse of magic. Haven't you noticed that we've been getting a lot of memos involving the misuse of magic from all over the world lately? They follow a line in countries."

Hermione thought back to her files. She remembered receiving a case in London, then one the next day in Scotland, then another the next day in Ireland, and so on. She hadn't thought twice about them, but now Harry had her thinking over the files. Had she noticed anything suspicious? Normally, if they were in other countries, she didn't deal with them as much because she figured the International department would work on it.

"Who is the Auror? And where would this be?" Hermione asked.

Harry folded his hands behind his back. "The Auror is to be decided in the meeting I'm having this morning. As for the location, it'll be in the next spot we've pinpointed for Cora to arrive at." Harry stood back and tapped his wand against the wall behind him to reveal a large map with thumbtacks stuck in it to form a curving line through the United Kingdom. "There's a small village just outside the borders of France we'd like the two of you to visit. She tends to make her way through the smaller villages first before continuing to a new country. You'll have to leave right away of course, considering she moves very quickly."

Hermione frowned. "This seems dangerous, Harry."

Harry smiled. "It is. But I know you're brave, and every single Auror we have in the Ministry is the best of the best. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. Now come on." Harry stood up and took Hermione's hand. "Everyone should be in the conference room by now, and I'd like you to witness how I'm picking the Auror - for old time's sake."

Curious, Hermione followed Harry towards the conference room where they would be meeting with the rest of the Aurors. She passed Blaise in the corridors, where she gave him a simple look that told him they would talk later, before she was brought into the conference room. Twenty pairs of eyes followed the two of them in, which was quite alarming at first. However, many pairs of familiar eyes twinkled up at her as she came into the conference room after Harry; Colin Creevey sat near the front, and beside him, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and…

"Malfoy?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyebrows rising to her hair line.

Hermione had to rub her fists into her eyes several times to make sure she was hallucinating. Unfortunately, she wasn't; Draco Malfoy was sitting near the end of the table with his legs raised up and his arms behind his head. His white blonde hair was rustled and fell carelessly over his forehead, and his sparkling grey-blue eyes settled into the cool and pale state of his entire body. He was wearing a crisp white button-up dress shirt, black slacks, shiny leather shoes and royal blue robes with the collar upturned to touch the ends of his silvery blonde hair.

"Good to see you too, Granger," Draco said with a devilish smirk. Hermione shuddered, and mentally prayed that Draco Malfoy would not be chosen to go on the work trip with her. The last thing she needed was someone she despised breathing down her neck all day, every day.

"Let's just get this over with," she mumbled.