Hi! This is my first Draco/Hermione story as well as the first time I'm trying the adventure/romance genres so please give me your feedback!
In this story, Hermione, Ron, Harry are all 25...anything in italics are flashbacks or thoughts of the characters. It starts off a little slowly, but I hope to make the chapters better...
Disclaimer : I don't own anything you recognise. It all belongs to JKR.
Don't flame me but R&R please!
I don't know whether war is an interlude during peace, or peace an interlude during war. - Georges Clemenceau
The masked woman gazed out at the burning building, brown eyes misty with memories. Similarly masked people moved around the area along with the dark blue robed Aurors. One of the Aurors approached her, a sad smile on his face.
"You've had better memories at this place, haven't you Hermione?"
"Harry, I've told you a million times, no names when I'm on the job!" Hermione hissed at the bespectacled Auror, adjusting her mask at the same time. "And yes, I have had better memories here," she added sadly.
"R1, we found her. She's not a pretty sight," said one of the masked men, coming over to Harry and Hermione. He gestured over his shoulder. "They just dragged her out of the wreckage."
Harry and Hermione hurried to where a group of Aurors and masked people had gathered around a stretcher. Hermione couldn't contain a gasp as she looked at the once beautiful face, now charred, burned and bloody. She could still see the pride and hint of arrogance the dead woman had always been famous for etched on the disfigured face.
"R3, did you run the tests?" Hermione snapped at one of her masked associates. She didn't mean to snap. The dead woman's face was making her angry. She was a woman she had grown to respect and seeing her now, in such a state was turning out to be more than she could handle. She knew what the preliminary tests on the body would say, she had been through this same situation seven times already, although this was the first time the victims were people she used to know.
"Of course I ran the tests. Like all the others, she's been tortured and left to asphyxiate and burn in the building," answered the masked woman she had snapped at.
"Very well," sighed Hermione. "I'll be back at Headquarters for a while. Auror Potter, keep me posted on any new developments." She Disapparated before anyone saw the tears in her eyes.
She materialized in her office at Headquarters. It was a fairly big room. There were windows on one wall and a desk, a marker board and three chairs comprised of the only furniture. Behind the desk, engraved on the wall in curly writing were the words, "Help will always be given to those who deserve it."
Hermione switched off the surveillance camera in her room, collapsed into a chair and removed her mask, rubbing at her eyes. She stared at the words on the wall, thinking back to why the very building she was sitting in had been built…
Five years ago, after Hermione had got into the Ministry of Magic, she had greatly improved the quality of life for house-elves and muggleborns while Harry and Ron became Aurors. She also wanted to fight and help them round up the last of the Death Eaters but she didn't want to go through the hours of paperwork and training the Aurors had to undergo. She had resigned herself to working in the Law Enforcement Department.
One day, she had switched on the Muggle television she had bought and saw that Muggles had been facing their own battles. She watched reports about a massive terrorist attack; Muggle newspapers reported alarming death tolls. Everyday, more crimes were committed. That was when Hermione had realized that magic could be used to help everyone. She had no Dark Lords to deal with in the magical world now. So, she decided to go back and help her old world, the Muggle world. She gathered some of her friends who wanted to help but didn't want to be full time Aurors too. To protect their identities, she and her band of witches and wizards wore uniforms and masks. Within the year, they had become – in Muggle terms – "superheroes."
She and her group of wizards patrolled streets at night and watched busy areas in the morning. They were successful in catching many criminals. By the end of the year, wizards all over the world had joined them and Hermione's band of wizards had grown into an organization recognized and respected by both Muggles and wizard kind. She had named her organization 'Auxilium.'
The Muggles didn't know exactly who they were, of course. They speculated that Auxilium was comprised of a group of mutants, superheroes, aliens, sorcerers and highly skilled government agents working towards world peace. To further protect their identities, the members of Auxilium were addressed only by rank, even among themselves while in public and in front of new recruits. Only the higher ranked members knew the names of everyone in the organization. To the rest of the world, they were simply called R1, R2 or whatever their rank was.
With the cooperation of the Muggle and magical defense agencies, Auxilium had thwarted several attempts to create chaos in the world. Auxilium bridged the Muggle and magical worlds while still maintaining the secrecy that had been necessary since the time of the medieval witch hunts. They had been so successful in preventing so many atrocities…until now.
The door to Hermione's office opened, pulling her away from her memories of Auxilium's creation and growth.
"How are you, Hermione?" asked the masked man who entered.
Hermione didn't need to see the badge that said 'R2.' The voice was far too familiar and only five people had access to her office. "Hello Neville," she said tiredly, as Neville took off his own mask.
"They found Lucius Malfoy's body too, not far from Narcissa's. Both of them, like the eight other families before them, are charred and burnt and bear obvious signs of ante-mortem torture."
"And the house was wrecked before it was set on fire?" Hermione asked, drawing on her knowledge of the case.
"Just like the other seven." Neville looked weary as he went up to the board in the room and added the eighth name to the list on it. 'Malfoy Manor,' he wrote.
"Does Draco know yet?" Hermione's whisper was barely audible.
Neville didn't meet her eyes. "Harry stayed back to tell him but I was there too. I – I've never seen Draco look so distraught, not since…" he trailed off.
Hermione looked out of her window, not meeting Neville's eyes herself. The whole building was underground, but all the members of Auxilium were skilled enough to enchant their windows like in the Ministry. She cleared her throat. "Right, I'm going home. Ron doesn't know what happened. I should go tell him." She Disapparated quickly, trusting Neville to lock up her office.
X-X-X
"That you, Hermione?" Ron called when he heard the apartment door open and close. A minute later, Hermione appeared in the kitchen.
"You didn't burn down the house?" she asked, looking at Ron's stained apron.
"Not this time," he announced proudly. "I made noodles."
She strode over to the dustbin in the corner and popped open the lid. "Not a successful first attempt, I see," she said, smiling slightly at the mess of noodles inside.
"Well…no," admitted Ron, "but I got it right after a couple of tries." He scooped some noodles out of a vessel on the stove and put them on a plate that he handed to her anxiously.
She took a cautious bite and then smiled fondly at him. "You're a quick learner when it comes to food."
He grinned broadly at the praise and sat down with her on the couch in their living room. He let her eat for a while and then asked the question she had been dreading. "So what was today's case about? Harry told me it wasn't important so I could go home early."
Hermione put down her plate and stared at her feet, avoiding Ron's eyes. "There was another attack. We were too late, just like the last seven times."
"There was another arson and attack? But why didn't Harry want me along then? I'm on this case too!" said Ron, indignantly.
"He didn't want you there because it was Malfoy Manor."
A multitude of emotions passed across Ron's face – shock, anger, pity, hatred, disgust. He rubbed his face. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I – I know the ferret – Draco-" he amended hastily, "-and I had our differences but even he doesn't deserve to have his family and his home wrecked like this." He put his arms around her comfortingly.
"I just wish I knew why these attacks are happening! We've been working on this case for so long and we don't have a single lead. This is the eighth attack in six months and we're no closer to finding the culprit or their motive than we were when the first attack happened. It can't be an anti-Death Eater group because only two of the victims so far have been Death Eater families. It can't be a pro-Voldemort group because of the same reason. It can't be a Muggle group. It can't be an anti-Pureblood group because three attacks were on Muggles. There are never any witnesses, there's never any evidence that points us in any direction. The victims have never been related as far as we know. The only connection we've found so far is that all the families that have been attacked are really, really rich." Hermione couldn't keep the desperation out of her voice as memories of the nine victims' burned bodies and houses flashed before her eyes.
Ron gave her a hug. "It'll be alright. You're not the only brainy one working on this anymore. We'll figure it out. We'll avenge every death…including the Malfoys'," he said, soothingly.
They just sat there for a few minutes, giving each other silent comfort and listening to the muffled sounds of Harry coming home and Ginny greeting him next door. They had rented adjacent apartments in the Leaky Cauldron. Neville lived in the one across the hall. The Leaky Cauldron's upper floors had been rebuilt as apartments by the new landlady, Hannah Abbot (who was the reason Neville was staying there, according to Ginny). There was a knock on their door, and the Potters came in.
"Hi Hermione," Ginny said, looking at the brunette anxiously, balancing a sleeping James Sirius Potter on her hip. Hermione nodded back.
Harry looked at her. "Malfoy Manor's been roped off. As in the previous cases, there were no witnesses. We're still searching for any incriminating evidence with your people helping, but we doubt there will be any. The house still seems to have all valuables even if they're no longer intact. The only thing that's been reported missing so far is a ring that Narcissa always wore."
"How do you know that?" asked Ron.
"Draco told us," Harry answered, glancing at Hermione before turning to Ron.
Ron felt Hermione tense in his arms. "Did he see his parents?" she asked urgently.
"He's more shocked than sorrowful right now. He's paler than usual. When we asked him to leave, he looked…"
"Distraught," finished Hermione.
Ron seemed to struggle with himself for a moment. He hesitated but finally managed to say, "Hermione, do you want to go seen him?"
She looked at Ron, surprised, and then shook her head. "No. He'll want his space for a while. He's probably going thorough a lot of emotions right now." She couldn't help thinking, "And I don't want to add to his emotional stress too." She pulled away from Ron. "I think I'll go to bed."
Ron sighed as she left the room. "You know what? The Malfoys seem to cause me more stress when they're dead than when they were alive."
X-X-X
Hermione lay on her bed but didn't fall asleep. She appreciated Ron's willingness to let her go see Draco. She knew it was hurting him that she was upset about the blonde Slytherin and his family. But she couldn't help it, not after everything that had happened seven years ago, when she'd gone back to Hogwarts for her final year. She looked at the ceiling, remembering Draco as she'd known him then…
"You're coming to my house for Christmas." Draco announced.
"I have to go to the Burrow remember?" Hermione replied, looking up from her homework.
"You go there all the time. Don't you want to spend Christmas with your boyfriend?"
She smiled at him. "Can I go to the Burrow for at least a couple of days? I do want to see Harry."
"Deal." He kissed her softly. "If Weasley troubles you, send me an owl immediately," he added.
"Which Weasley?" she asked lightly, although she knew exactly which one he was talking about.
"As if you don't know. Ronald Weasley." Draco said the name as if it were a swear word.
Three days later, she and Draco stood in front of Malfoy Manor.
"I can't do it, Draco. I can't go in." Hermione looked terrified at the sight of the house.
Draco pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair soothingly. "Hey it's alright. Bellatrix is dead. No one will hurt you in there. I won't let anything happen to you," he murmured. She calmed down and faced the house. "You were always weak around Boggarts and Dementors," he said, "But the only way to overcome fears is to face them head-on. I'll be right there beside you."
Hermione had walked in to the same hall she had been tortured in just a few months ago and enjoyed a very normal tea with the Malfoys. Narcissa had talked to her a few times earlier as she had reconciled with her sister, Andromeda, and she was quite comfortable around Hermione. Lucius had been polite in a rather forced manner but he had been positively nice by his usual standards.
Later that evening, Hermione stood there in that hall alone.
"Hermione?" Draco asked coming in, "What are doing down here, all alone?"
"I don't know what scares me more – this room, or the fact that I actually had a perfectly polite tea with your parents here."
He laughed. "The best way to deal with bad memories, is to replace them with good ones." He fiddled around with an old gramophone in the corner and then took her hand as a slow waltz filled the air. "Dance with me," he whispered, guiding her around the candle-lit room, holding her close. He pulled his wand out as he twirled her around and waved it. Hermione found herself wearing a beautiful white gown with white roses – her favourites – in her hair.
"You always had a flair for old Shakespearean style," she said, resting her head against his chest.
"What can I say?" he replied, with his signature smirk, "I'm an aristocrat."
On Christmas day, he took her out to her favourite Muggle restaurant. He even braved the train to get there. When they returned to his house, he handed her a small wrapped box.
"What's this?" she asked.
"A Christmas present, what else?" he replied, rolling his eyes.
She opened it to find a beautiful gold necklace with a Gryffindor lion pendant with rubies for eyes.
"Not all my relatives are Slytherins," he smirked.
"I can't possibly take this! It must be some sort of family heirloom," said Hermione.
He took the necklace and clasped it around her neck. She shivered as his fingers brushed along her neck and he put his hand on her cheek. "It belongs to a true, loyal Gryffindor. I can't think of anyone more loyal than you," he answered.
She gazed into his silver-grey eyes and then kissed him passionately. "Thank you," she said when she broke away, "for the necklace, for the compliment…and for being so perfect."
Malfoy Manor did hold quite a few wonderful memories. Hermione remembered laughing at Draco's expression when a ferret had jumped into the garden followed by a weasel once. He had pushed her into the pond for laughing at him and she'd pulled him in with her. They'd splashed around for a minute before realizing it was December and the pond was freezing cold. They'd spent the rest of the day inside, reading, talking, laughing and occasionally drinking Pepper-Up Potion.
Draco was smart, wittily sarcastic, a perfect gentleman…After the war when he'd been treated like any common person by Voldemort, Draco had understood that a life was a life no matter what society someone belonged to. As a show of trust, McGonagall had made him Head Boy and Hermione Head Girl when they had returned to Hogwarts to finish their seventh year properly.
They had been forced to work with each other and realized that they rather enjoyed each other's company in the absence of old prejudices. They had grown closer and after a series of events, they had started going out. Hermione remembered fondly how they had sat on his roof at midnight on New Year and he had traced out the constellation Draco in the huge web of stars that had twinkled down on them.
But things hadn't lasted. Hermione hadn't seen or spoken to Draco for five years now. She knew he was working with the Aurors too. His decision to become an Auror had been met with plenty of speculation but within a year, he had proved to be extremely good at his job and the papers were full of praise. She had worked with him on occasion as the head of Auxilium, but he hadn't known her identity. The members of Auxilium were so paranoid that they even disguised their voices occasionally.
The last time she'd heard any personal news about him – something that she hadn't read about in the papers – was when Neville had run into Draco and told her about the conversation later. She remembered Neville's words from earlier that evening : "I've never seen Draco look that distraught, not since…" She knew how Neville had wanted to finish that sentence. She knew he would have said, "Not since I told him you were engaged to Ron."
Sorry about the rather long paragraphs, but they were necessary to explain what was going on. Please tell me if there was something that sounded ambiguous or something you didn't understand and I'll correct it.
Please review! Can I get at least 5 reviews? This is a new type of story for me and I would love to hear your advice :)