The slamming of a car door rang deafening to ears that were waiting long to hear it. Hermione perked up from the laptop she'd been furiously typing on, her attention automatically turning with her to the window. She twirled around in her chair, the wheels squeaking as she rolled over to the glass and peered outside. Down below, she could see the tall and broad figure of her father, and the following much nimbler, fairy-like body of her mother from the passenger side. But the one she'd been waiting most anxiously for took his time getting out of the back seat of her father's SUV. And, from the less than happy faces of her parents, Hermione, though confused as to why, figured her brother didn't exactly want to come out.

Still, she hauled out of the confines of her room, forgetting the English paper she was in the process of editing for the sixteenth time, and flew out the door to greet the boy. The unsuspecting gangly figure was still in the process of getting out of the car when she pounced.

"Harry!" She cried, leaping onto his back as he tried in vain to close the door. An overexcited sister clinging to his shoulders made it all that much harder to do, but the quiet smile on his face made her confident he didn't really care about the obstacle.

When Hermione finally released him, Harry turned to whisk his sister into a hug meant to make up for a year away. He was taller than she remembered him being when he'd left for Cambridge and yet he still felt the same. Still Harry with hair that hadn't been brushed in weeks, glasses that wobbled precariously on his face, long arms and legs that made him more tree than boy. She'd been afraid that her parents would bring back a man who was foreign to her, grown up from the sarcasm and idiocy of adolescence into a more distant figure whose mind was still roaming his college halls.

Instead, he was whining about hair in his mouth. Apparently, somehow, her locks had weaseled their way past his glasses and into his eyes, too.

"So, how is it? Is it as wonderful as it looked on paper?" She sighed excitedly when he'd dropped her back to the ground. "Is it hard work? How are the professors?"

"You do know you can just ask these questions when you go for orientation, right?" He shied away from the question, his eyes hesitantly looking over to the entrance where their parents had disappeared into.

"I suppose, but those people always sugarcoat reality. I want to know the truth before I even think of going there," she replied, though her mind was following Harry's and she wondered what had both him and their parents all bothered.

"Right, so you haven't already made a PowerPoint with the pros and cons of each school," he muttered absently.

She stopped him short of walking into the house, forcing him to look at her and what he would see was a mixture of annoyance and distress. "What happened?"

Harry scratched his head, his already frazzled brown hair becoming even more so.

"Look, mum and dad already gave me the third degree. I don't need you judging me, alright?"

He was making for the door again and already their sibling reunion had gone sour. She got to the doorknob first and closed it behind her. "I promise not to, this one time," she added when he started to roll his eyes. "Tell me. You know I won't stop asking and, if I have to, I'll just ask dad."

He sighed, fidgeting with his too-big glasses. "Fine, you win. Look, I just- okay, so I'm not exactly staying for the summer."

"Are you going back for a summer term? I can understand why they'd be frustrated that you won't be here long but-"

"No," Harry muttered. He sucked in a deep breath. " 'Mione, I'm not going back at all."

She stared back at him, dumbfounded. "What?" She heard herself say, like it was bouncing back to her ears through a thick pane of glass.

"I said, I'm not going."

Draco huffed, his fingers almost tearing holes in his jean pockets after he'd had to repeat an already strained answer. It hadn't taken him long to utter the words once Tom had offered a ride that would surely end in Draco breaking his promise to Hermione. He'd blurted it out automatically, not even thinking about his mother or house because he just couldn't afford to think about it. But when Tom had asked for him to clarify, it had taken everything in Draco to reassert himself. Sure, Tom hadn't outright said that if he didn't get something back from Draco then he wouldn't help him out. But, Draco had been around this man long enough to know what the deal was.

Tom's eyes were watching him stoically and Draco could feel ice developing from the man's stare. Those dark eyes finally looked away as Tom heaved a sigh, his face looking wistfully at the road ahead. It was almost certain that the two of them were seeing two diverging ways.

The door clicked shut again, and Draco almost allowed himself to feel relief.

"You know where to find me when you change your mind," Tom replied casually.

Draco shook his head, kicking a rock away in hopes that his agitation would somehow transfer onto it. "No, man. I'm sorry but I've got a girl now and I'm trying to clean up my record," he tried to say but Tom already had a hand raised against him.

"I understand, Draco. Someone in the family needs to take responsibility, and it should be you. So, do what you feel is best."

Draco felt as if there was a boulder in his throat and he saw that Tom's road was leading farther and farther away from Draco's and his mother's best interest. The man was moving to shift his car back into drive and, stupid as it was, Draco put a hand on Tom's car.

There was a sharp hiss from inside and Draco recoiled. Still, Tom had stopped long enough for Draco to get back his attention.

"You'll let me know about that lawyer, right?" He tried not to sound desperate but the image of his mother having to move what little furniture they had left out of their home was enough to drive him mad. Even as controlled as he was trying to be, minus trying to cling to the car, Tom could tell Draco was hanging on a wire. There was a quirk to the man's lips before he frowned, his fingers drumming against his steering wheel.

"I don't know, Draco. He's a busy man, but I'll see what I can do," he muttered, his voice and face matched in its disinterest. He wasn't even trying to look troubled by the Malfoys' state of affairs anymore. He was probably already thinking of someone else to do his bidding. "He'll be looking to get paid and with less income, I don't know if I'll be able to offer what he'll want."

They both knew that was a lie. The man was loaded. He didn't even really live here, had a condo in the city where prices ran high and crime even higher. That was where he got most of his drug profit, but this was where he could suck the life out of any bored kid with nothing better to do than try to impress a big shot.

With a father locked away, Draco had been a perfect candidate when he was younger. It hadn't taken much for Tom to take the boy under his crooked wing after being introduced during his father's trial. He'd started out doing little things for the family, helping gain connections with lawyers and giving tips to Narcissa and Lucius on how to work the case to their benefit. All the while, he'd been taking Draco to the city, showing him everything he and his mother could get if Draco just made some money on the side. Tom had mentored him on how to be the smug criminal Draco thought he was. But he'd been played, and Tom was still strumming his tune. Draco just couldn't hear it.

"Are you sure you didn't hear wrong? Maybe that guy was misinformed," Draco huffed, those hands back in his pockets and digging for hope he wasn't likely to find.

Tom shrugged as Draco tried to find any alternative that could ease his bubbling panic. He was quickly looking more and more annoyed by Draco's persistence and simple being.

"That is a possibility. Do what you will with the information I've given you. I'll do what I can, as long as you do what you can," and with that the Cadillac was awake, gliding away with Draco's last chance in the driver's seat.

He tried not to look completely screwed, but it wasn't really working.

"Fuck."

The elementary school bell tolled, barely reminding him that he'd come out here with a very different purpose in mind. And, as the kids swarmed around him and through the park, Draco made his way down the road that lead towards Hermione.

Hermione lead her brother to her room, pushing the door shut against the tension that filled the house like slime. Her parents downstairs were silently mourning, talking in whispers about what Hermione could only guess was Harry's future and the state of it. With her room closed to the awkward silence, they were finally free to talk.

He was already ready for the onslaught, his glasses writhing between his hands and eyes staring way too intensely at her rug. It became blatantly apparent that he didn't want to see the look on Hermione's face. But, besides being shocked by the news that her brother had dropped out of college, Hermione's expression was devoid of that disappointment they'd both seen in mom and dad.

"But I thought you wanted to be a chemist? Did you just, I don't know, not like it there?" She asked as she dropped down on her bed, an invisible weight on her shoulders making the impact harsh. She was having a hard time wrapping her heavy head around what must've happened. All she could remember was Harry constantly talking about going into chemistry and, since it wasn't biology like their parents, Hermione had figured it was a decision of his own making.

Harry pursed his lips, put his glasses back on after rubbing the lens way too thoroughly for a boy whose bedroom still reeked of dirty socks, and sat down at Hermione's desk.

"I thought I did?" His hands were in the air, as if Hermione was supposed to have all the answers. Usually, she did. But not this time. "I guess I did, for a while I was sure I did. Honestly, with you being you, I felt like I needed to go off and cure mortality or something."

Hermione ran her hands down her face before they plummeted down and onto her crossed legs. "Harry, I thought we talked about this."

"I know, I kno-" He should've known better than to try and get a word in.

"You're my brother, and you're their son, and just because you didn't get mum or dad's genes doesn't mean you have to compensate for it. You're smart, all on your own, and you don't have to try and constantly prove it. If you didn't want to study chemistry, you didn't have to," she rambled on and Harry was having a hard time stopping her from getting too riled up. Her hair was reaching astronomical heights, her hands moving about in ways Harry just couldn't keep up with.

" 'Mione. Sissy. Hermione," he beckoned to her, waving his hands in front of her flustered face. She finally took a well-needed breath, let it out in a puff that flew so far it left a dent in Harry's hair.

He bit back a laugh, knowing well that she didn't like to be laughed at when she got this way. "It's not that. Well, maybe it was a little bit but, you know, adopted or not: I'm a boy. I'm going to change my mind every which way until I finally get hit upside the head with reason."

Her face collapsed with relief. "Really? You weren't trying?"

"No, Hermione. I was just making dumb choices," he soothed her.

Her shoulders relaxed along with her nerves. But she was still wary as she looked her brother over, wondering if his next choice was going to consist of finding himself in the desert. "Are you sure you're not making another dumb choice?"

Now, he laughed. "No, I'm not. I think I finally got this one right."

Hermione stared at her brother, contemplating the green eyes, the black hair, the lanky legs that always hit the wall when he sat at her desk or sprawled all the way to her bed and took up the entire room. He looked nothing like his adoptive family, but he had been Hermione's other half since he'd first came home when she was five and he was on the verge of turning eight. They'd been inseparable and they'd been each other's backbone for as long as she could remember. He had trusted every choice she'd ever made, so whatever choice he made she would back up wholeheartedly.

As long as it wasn't something crazy, of course. He was known for making very odd decisions when she wasn't around to hit him back to sanity.

"What's your plan, now?" She ventured to ask.

Now his features lit up like a Christmas tree, and those legs of his hauled him and the seat over to where she sat on the edge of her bed. He grabbed her hands and held them tight, like he was already trying to sooth her nerves.

"Okay, don't freak out."

"Why would I?" He shook his head.

"You always do, don't play that card." She shut her mouth.

"Okay, so," he paused to add suspense. If he wasn't holding her hands, she'd probably slap the information out of him. "I'm going to go into the police academy."

She nearly shat a brick.

"No," he murmured, slowly shaking his head. "No, no, no. I thought I said no freaking out."

She took a deep breath, gripped his hands in hers, closed her eyes, tried not to find any irony behind her eyelids. "Mhmm, I'm not. No, I'm just," she trailed off, opened her eyes to see Harry look completely concerned and gave as convincing a smile as she could. "I'm just surprised, is all!"

He slouched in relief. "Well, I hope it's a good surprised because I already enrolled."

"Wow, Harry. I mean, I never knew you wanted to be an officer," she stammered. He was beaming, his grin making it hard for her not to be happy for him.

"You remember when I tried investigating my biological parents?"

Hermione scoffed. "Yes, you were ten and you thought the fake badge you wore would make the police give you information."

"Okay, there you go! I was really into it. And after I actually found out what happened to my parents, I thought about how I didn't want that to happen to another family."

"Harry." She'd remembered the day he'd turned eighteen clearly. He'd wanted so bad for his birthday gift to be seeing who his parents were only to find out from his files that they'd been killed by a robber. He had reassured them all that it wasn't too devastating, that he'd been raised by a wonderful family and he was happy with how he'd lived. But, Hermione had never completely bought it.

"Have you stopped talking since I left?" He teased, making her smile. "I went off to Cambridge already feeling as if I hadn't gone the right route. And, after taking a handful of courses, I realized how not made for college I was."

"You always were the procrastinator," she mumbled.

"Compared to you, everyone is," he shot back.

"Sorry I do my homework." She pursed her lips, glancing off at her window, where she saw a familiar shadow taking form. If it were possible to shit two bricks, she was about to do just that.

"Two months ahead of time?" He asked, but she was suddenly on her feet with a fumble and tumble off her bed. She barely got to see Draco's confused grey eyes look at her and her brother before she pulled her curtains together with a rushed and mouthed "sorry". Her heart was about to collide with the glass.

Now was not exactly the time for an introduction.

She turned her back to the window, heard a mumbled stream of curses from the other side of the window, and saw a more than confused Harry staring back at her.

"Sorry, the sun was right in my eye," she blurted before sitting back down. "Okay, so I go overboard. It was to make sure I got into Cambridge, too, so I could go to the same school as you," she reasoned, trying to get Harry's attention away from the curtains.

She succeeded. He turned back to her with an incredulous look. "It was all your fault that I worked half as hard as I did. If I got accepted there, you're a shoe in."

She feigned a frown. "But you won't be there."

Harry laughed. "Do you really want your brother at the same university as you? High school was one thing, but college is another animal altogether. But, if you really want me there, after I finish training I can be your personal security. That way, no boy will ever lay a hand on you," he threatened smugly. She gawked at him, wanting the complete opposite of just that.

"I'd rather you didn't!" She shot.

Harry looked at her sideways, questioningly. "Well, that hurt my feelings."

She rolled her eyes, trying to play it casual. "No, it didn't."

"You're wrong, but whatever. Are you still applying to Cambridge, then?"

"Of course," it had already been sent in.

"Where else? I heard mum talk about Harvard but I don't like the idea of you in America. Doesn't work," he thought aloud, looking like he'd swallowed something sour.

"Doesn't work? What, am I not cool enough?" She scowled, and he grinned.

"No, it works. I just know that the old people downstairs don't want you so far away."

She sighed. "It's the best law school, it'd be foolish not to apply."

"And they would let you go, after complaining for a good month or so about how you owe it to them to stay somewhat nearby. And now, they'll hold it to you to go to Cambridge since I couldn't follow through," he chimed.

"This is all your fault," she groaned.

"Just imagine it this way: I'll catch the bad guys and you'll put them in jail. We'll be the perfect duo."

There was a rustling outside her window, the familiar scrapping of feet against clay. She tried not to look in that general direction. She didn't want Harry catching any bad guys just yet.

"So, which one would you rather go to?" He pulled her back into the present. She blinked, momentarily stumped.

"Who says I'll have a choice?"

He looked at her incredulously. "Putting aside the fact that you've applied to over 100 schools, there's no way Harvard would overlook you."

She bit her lip, knowing well there was an anomaly here when it came to going anywhere anytime soon. She wasn't used to having something outside of school to worry about. It had been for this reason she'd ended her last relationship. But, this was different.

"I don't know," she confessed. Harry looked taken aback, and she could only imagine how her parents would react to her not knowing something for once. Let alone not knowing which university she wanted to go to.

"Speechless," he articulated as he got up from her chair. "On that note, I leave you to contemplate your fate seeing as you're the golden child now."

She rolled her eyes. "You know they're just worried. That's a dangerous job, Harry."

He waved his hand at her. "I know. They'll get over it."

He was halfway out the door when she stopped him again.

"Harry," he turned towards her expectantly. She felt the words lodge themselves in her throat. "Do you remember the Malfoys?"

His features darkened substantially. "Is that punk bothering you again? I know you told me to leave it alone when your car was vandalized but, Hermione, once I'm official he'll be paying for that and whatever he's doing now. Promise."

It wasn't exactly the answer she'd been hoping for. She repressed a groan.

"No, no, he's not. You know what, nevermind. I'll talk to you about it later," she tried her hand at being nonchalant, and she thought it worked for the most part. Harry shrugged.

"Whatever." And then, when the door was safely shut behind him, she scrambled for the window coverings.

Pulling them back, Hermione saw that the shadow was gone.

[A/N: thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far, and I hope you'll like what I have coming up!]