Disclaimer- Okay, again, I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine.

Author's Note- I want to thank everyone who has taken the time to review, I love you all. This chapter has been edited by my wonderful Beta Coff.

The first thing she did, early the next morning, was to go to George's flat.

During the past year she had established a close bond with him. She found that she could open up to George more than anyone else, often even more than Ginny. He had changed so much in the time since Fred had died. Gone was the tall gangly youth who had worn a perpetual grin on his face. Life had transformed him into a man; his tall frame had become broad and strong, his face held traces of wrinkles caused by a great suffering. The grin was replaced by a bittersweet smile. For a long time it seemed as if he would not be able to recover from the loss.

Then, one day out of the blue, he had announced that he was going to open the shop again. There were even hints of a budding romance with a certain young lady who was also dealing with the loss of Fred.

A muffled curse came from the other side of the door when she knocked. The door was swung open and a very dishevelled and sleepy looking red head stood there with a surprised look on his face.

"Did I wake you?" smiled Hermione.

"No, of course not," he answered sarcastically. "What makes you say that?" He glared at her in mock irritation, and stepped aside so that she could come in.

"Oh, well, in that case, I'm probably just in time for breakfast," Hermione grinned at him, walking into the kitchen and sitting at the small table.

"Only if you're willing to cook it," George retorted, "and we both know that's not likely. I'll make us some tea while you fill me in on the reason you're here at this ungodly hour."

As George busied himself with the tea, Hermione smiled and began to recount the events of the previous night. She didn't omit any part of the story and George was obligingly quiet as she spoke. There was an almost indiscernible upward twitch of his lips when she mentioned casting the Locomotor Mortis at Dean. The small smile was quickly replaced by a frown when she described being disarmed by the suspected Death Eater. To his great relief, she explained how Dean had arrived just in time to help get her out of the mess she'd created. She concluded her tale with the order Harry had given.

George didn't say a thing as he poured them each a cup of what could arguably be the world's strongest brew. After handing Hermione her cup, he sat across from her and levelled a glare at her. There was not a trace of amusement on his face. His silence was a bit distressing, to say the least.

"Oh, George, you can't be mad at me as well. I've already heard it from…"

"Hang on, Hermione," he snapped, holding out his hand. "Stop. I'm trying to sort this out for myself."

He kept his gaze on her, his tea forgotten. She began to fidget nervously under his never ending stare, and yet still he didn't say anything. After several moments he stood up and walked to the sink, pouring his tea down the drain. Turning back to her, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

"Okay, Miss Granger, its time for us to have a little chat, yeah? Look, you've been living your life like this for the last year. It has to stop. I've stood by and watched you lose yourself in that job. Ron left because he had his own demons to deal with. It seems that you're trying to bring in every criminal out there so he can see your world is safe, and come home to you. That's not the going to happen. The truth is it that you've gone out of your way to be in the middle of the most dangerous situations in hopes of bringing him back."

"That's not fair! I do my job just like any other Auror at the Department! What am I supposed to do? Danger is part of the job. I'm highly trained and I can take care of myself. You know that, I shouldn't have to remind you. Oh, and you don't have to remind me that Ron's gone for good! I've had plenty of people telling me lately! And anyway, don't you think I'd already know that?"

"Look," George said impatiently. "I know that you're one of the best Aurors! That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about how each day you lost a little bit more of yourself. Can't you see that? And now, now you're making bad situations that much worse by taking the risks that you did last night!"

He took a deep breath. "It's going to stop. Today. Yeah? You're going to do exactly as Harry said. Take the day off, do whatever you need to do, soul searching, whatever, and then go back tomorrow fresh and ready."

He hesitated before continuing, as though he knew she wouldn't like what he was about to say. "Maybe you should think about asking Kingsley to reassign you to a desk job."

Hermione swallowed, and then nodded. "Okay. Look, even though I think you're, well, over-reacting, I'll take your advice. I mean, not about the desk job. I won't do that, but I will do some 'soul searching' during my day off." She hesitated. "I…well, I love you." She fixed a stern gaze upon him. "Don't let it get to your head," she ordered.

George grinned mischievously at her, and gave her a massive hug. "Oh, isn't that sweet, Hermione!"

She pushed him away, and punched his arm. "I said not to let it get to your head. Now make me some breakfast, I want something to get rid of the taste of this ghastly tea."

Standing in Kingsley Shacklebolt's office two days later, Hermione felt incredibly uneasy. She had tried to get to work early that morning, hoping to get there before Harry arrived. She had really wanted to avoid him for as long as possible. Even though she admitted to herself that she had been irresponsible, she was still rather hurt that he'd used his higher position like that.

Unfortunately, no one had been listening to her wishes. Harry had arrived at exactly the same time that she had. She had initially tried to ignore him as he held the door open for her, but one glance at the hurt look on his face stopped her in her tracks. She took his hand in hers as she passed him, giving it a quick squeeze, before continuing into the office.

Her hair was plaited into two loose braids, leaving a few tendrils to curl rampantly around her worried face. Under her robes she wore artfully ripped jeans tucked into a pair of fur-lined boots and a light brown Henley shirt. Around her neck was a necklace with a heart-shaped pendant that she kept fiddling with as she waited for Kingsley to address her. For several minutes he merely fixed his eyes on her, his elbows on the huge mahogany desk, his chin resting on his interlaced fingers, seemingly in deep contemplation. Harry was patiently leaning against the same desk, arm crossed, facing Hermione.

After an eternity Kingsley's baritone voice gently inquired, "Miss Granger, would you care to remind me how many times I've had to re-assign you in the last twelve months?"

Hermione looked first at Harry then at the wizard in the exotic robes sitting behind the desk. Her hands had dropped to her sides as she clenched them into tight fists.

"Look," she said desperately. "I know how this looks, but it hasn't always been my fault, there have been circumstances…"

"How many times, Miss Granger?" gently persisted Kingsley.

She clamped her mouth closed in the middle of her explanation. Taking a deep breath she began again. "Well, this will be the fourth time, but…" She paused, and then quickly continued before he could interrupt her again. "The first one doesn't count, though, because that was when Ron decided to leave the leave his job."

"That's fair enough," Kingsley nodded. "You weren't responsible for that. The fact remains, however, that since his departure you've gone through three partners."

"I know," Hermione said sheepishly. "I know. Look, I promise that things will get different. I'll be much better from now on. I know I've been an annoyance, and I'm so thankful that you've both been so patient. I promise that I'll be able to get along with any of the Aurors in the department from now on."

Kingsley turned to look at Harry and, with a curt nod, he stood and left the office.

"Take at seat, Hermione," Harry said, walking around the desk and sitting in the chair that Kingsley had just vacated. "I hope you're not still angry with me."

"Well," Hermione said shamefacedly, "I was a little put off before. It's just a little hard to be angry when you've realised it's your fault."

"Good," Harry nodded. "Right, so now I can introduce you to your new partner. He's not here, yet, but we need to talk about some things first."

"Oh no," Hermione said with a groan. "Please don't tell me I'm going to have to train them. I just remembered what a pain it was having to train those other two." She grinned sheepishly at Harry. "I'm really regretting hexing Dean, last night. Are you sure you can't talk him into remaining my partner?"

Harry gave her a small sad smile and shook his head. There was something he was having a hard time telling her. He ran his hand through his hair, straightened his glasses and gave her a deliberate stare.

"Nah," Harry said. "You won't have to train him. He's already been trained at the Scotland Academy of Defence."

Hermione let out a gasp. "The Scotland Academy of Defence?"

Harry nodded. Hermione was incredibly impressed, and, at the same time, a little intimidated. Only a select number of applicants were trained at the Scotland Academy of Defence, and only the very best were able to complete the one year course.

"He'll be here in a few minutes," Harry told her. "Look, Hermione, I really hope it when you said you promised to work with whoever we placed you with."

Hermione swallowed, and then nodded.

"Okay," Harry said. "Well, he trained for a year at the academy, and then spent last year in Bulgaria on a secret mission for the Ministry."

"He was on a secret mission for the Ministry?" Hermione asked bemusedly. "Who is he? Why haven't I heard of him?"

Harry was saved having to answer by a sharp knock at the door. He walked over to the door and opened it. After a slight hesitation, he extended his hand in greeting and allowed the man into the office. Hermione had twisted in her seat to get a look at her new partner.

A small gasp escaped her lips. She stood up and slowly approached the figure standing in the middle of the office. He didn't move at all as she walked around him, taking in all the changes in his appearance since the last time she had seen him. He was taller and his shoulders were broader than she remembered. His expensive robe was perfectly tailored to his new body. His platinum colored hair was shorter and devoid of the gel that had been ever so present in the past. She stopped in front of him and studied his face. The aristocratic features were still there, the strong chin, pointed nose and the way he held his head, but there were some subtle changes like the thin white scar curving from his right temple to the corner of his mouth. Gone was the sneer that had characterized him for the seven years she'd known him, now his face seemed more severe and ruthless. His steely grey eyes were the only feature that had remained unchanged. Those same eyes now locked with hers.

She pulled her gaze away from his, and turned with raised eyebrows to face Harry. "Er, Harry. This is Malfoy," she informed him. "Why am I being partnered with Malfoy?"

Harry had been steeling himself for this from the moment Draco had stepped into the office. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Hermione. "Hermione," he said hesitantly. "Look, I can probably have a fair guess as to what you're thinking -"

"I bet you probably can," retorted Hermione. "But what were you thinking? I mean, if you were thinking at all, that is."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Look, Hermione," he said, slightly impatiently. "He's been reassigned to this department, you need a new partner, and so therefore, you both go together."

Hermione was struck dumb, she stood there looking first at Harry then at Malfoy. It was surreal; she couldn't believe this was happening. The only indication that Malfoy was listening to the exchange was the clenching of his jaw.

"Come, Hermione," Harry said imploringly. "Think of it as a challenge."

"A challenge? Is that what this it? Are you trying to make my life so miserable that I'll walk away? It won't work Harry. I'm not walking away and I'M NOT WORKING WITH DRACO MALFOY!"

Draco snickered, and walked over to sit on the edge of the desk. He crossed his arms and continued to gaze at the arguing couple with a look of impatience. Hermione glared at him then returned her attention to Harry.

"Of all the Aurors in the department, you decide that I need to work with Malfoy? Merlin, Harry, have you forgotten what he was like at school? And how can you overlook the way he treated Ron and his family? If all that has escaped your memory, Harry, how about the night Dumbledore died, do you remember the Death Eaters getting into Hogwarts? Do you remember who made that possible?"

"I told you this'd happen, Potter." Malfoy drawled, sounding mildly annoyed. "But of course, you didn't listen to me."

"Draco, shut up and let me handle this. I'm still not completely comfortable with this arrangement myself, so please just keep your mouth closed right now. I told you yesterday, no one knows Hermione better than me. She'll listen to reason and eventually she'll appreciate the importance of her cooperation."

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," Hermione said angrily.

Draco caught her eye and with the lift of one eyebrow, he caused her to blush. That had been exactly what she had been doing just minutes earlier to him.

Harry walked back to the chair behind the desk and sat down. Facing both his Aurors he leaned back and simply ordered them to sit down and listen their instructions.

"Hermione," Harry said. "You're going to be Malfoy's partner, right? And you'll do exactly as you promised earlier. For Merlin's sake, we're not children anymore. He's not, well, that much of a git anymore. I don't really want everything to fall apart, just because you can't get on with people I partner you with."

He turned determinedly to Malfoy. "And you, I expect you to keep your promise as well. Don't antagonise her. I really just want you to be able to work together, for Merlin's sake."

He looked at them both for a moment, before he seemed to assure himself that they really were going to do what he said.

"Kingsley said to have the rest of the day to, well, get to know each other. Come back later this afternoon, so we can go over some stuff."

Hermione stood and walked to the door without looking back. She quickly rushed out into the corridor, walking without even knowing where she was going. She didn't hear him come up behind her, but, without warning, she felt an iron grip on her wrist. Before she knew what he had in mind, she was being led to the lift. As she stood next to him, her wrist still trapped in his vice-like grip, she attempted to free herself, making him hold on that much tighter. As she looked up at him, the steely eyes glazed with controlled rage, stopping her words of protest. Getting off the lift, they continued walking toward the office she had shared with Dean. Draco must've been here before because he knew exactly which door to go into. Only after he had closed the door did he let her loose.

"What?" she shouted. "What do you want? I have a lot of work to do and I would appreciate it if you would leave my office now."

There was nothing to indicate that he'd heard a word she said. His icy veneer never wavered. Walking around Dean's desk, he slowly turned around to face her with a determined look. "You heard Potter, Granger. We have to get reacquainted. And this is our office now."

Hermione's quickly looked across the room. Her browed furrowed into a scowl as she noticed that all of Dean's things were indeed missing from the desk. Gone was the wedding picture of him and Luna as well as all the photograph of Seamus and himself on the fishing trip they'd gone on last year. Also missing was the mess of papers and half empty coffee cups that usually littered his half of the office. Instead, the desk was almost completely bare, no photographs of loved ones, nothing out of place, only some parchment, ink well, quills and a small lamp.

"I don't really need to spend the entire morning with you Malfoy," Hermione snapped. "We know each other quite well, don't you think? I know you're a two faced ferret, and you know better than to try my patience."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Don't you think name calling is a little immature, Granger?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "Oh, so you're not immature anymore? I suppose, I haven't heard you call me a mudblood yet. But what I really want to know is how you talked the Ministry into giving you a job." She smiled sarcastically at him. "I mean, how did you get them to overlook the lovely tattoo on your arm…"

Malfoy exhaled in annoyance. "Yeah, okay. I'm a two faced ferret, as you've already said. I'm a callous bastard. I only care about myself. I'm a coward, I switched sides in the middle of a war. Is there anything else?"

"No," retorted Hermione, "you're also a git, a Death Eater, and an arrogant prat." She nodded, tilting her head to the side. "That's about it."

"Alright, then," he said, and Hermione was shocked to see that he was amused. "Now that we've got that off out chest, can we start acting a little more mature?"

There was an awkward silence while they regarded each other.

Malfoy rolled his eyes again. "Look, did you want to go get something to eat?"

"You'd better take off your robes then," she challenged. "I'm in the mood for tea from Sotheby's."

How she ended up sitting with Draco Malfoy at Sotheby's Café having biscuits and tea, was beyond her. She had been sure that he would balk at an outing to muggle London, but he had stunned her by accepting without even a hint of a sneer. Before she could think of way to get out of it, they had started out of the office, back into the lift and proceeded to exit the ministry.

Once outside they had apparated to the back of a small book store about four blocks from the café. It was the spot she always used when she wanted to go there. The walk to their destination was quiet; neither of them uttered a word. Hermione was a little surprised to notice that he'd adjusted his pace to match hers so she wouldn't have to run to keep up with him. She was also taken aback by his attire; she had never seen him wear anything but his school uniform, his robes or a quiditch uniform. There was a confident ease in which he wore the apparently expensive muggle clothing, and there was no denying that he could be described as extremely sexy, that is if you were into tall fair-haired mysterious types, that is. Her tastes ran more along the lines of big redheaded lovable oafs. But she did suddenly feel a bit under-dressed and wished she had suggested eating in the dining hall at the ministry.

There was usually a waiting period of several minutes before being seated, but after a boyish smirk from Draco, the blushing hostess immediately found them a table. Hermione gave a small snort and rolled her eyes. Malfoy turned and gave her an innocent. She just shook her head and followed their hostess to their table, trying not to notice the exaggerated swaying of her hips.

The funny thing was that after all the screeching and screaming she'd done earlier, she now felt oddly shy sitting across from this silent stranger in one of her favourite places to go in muggle Westminster. He sat back in his chair and leaned slightly to the left, his right leg stretched out before him, absently stirring his tea. For a few minutes it seemed as if he had forgotten she was there. She took the opportunity to just observe him. He was so different. There was an undeniable aura of danger that radiated from him. Her scrutiny led to the discovery of a tattoo peaking out from the cuff of his shirt. It was hard to be sure, but it looked like it might be a dragon's tail. She was intrigued because she knew that it was the same arm that had received the dark mark. Her gaze continued up his arm, noticing that there were tattoos visible at his collar as well. The dark ink was vivid against his fair skin. She felt herself blush as she met a pair of hard steel hued eyes that were trained on her.

"I thought you'd finished your inspection of me back in Shacklebolt's office."

"Don't be a prat, Malfoy." She snapped, as she felt a blush creep into her face.

For a moment, Malfoy didn't say anything. When he did, however, the words came as a complete shock.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "Old habits are hard to break."

Looking away, she was at a loss for words. Taking a sip of her quickly cooling tea, she suddenly wished she were sipping on something a bit stronger. She could feel his gaze on her. Chancing a glance at him she saw him perusing her in much the same manner in which she'd looked at him earlier. When his eyes locked onto to hers there was a momentary flicker of something she couldn't quite name but before she could question it, or even really process it in her mind, it was gone.

Hermione swallowed apprehensively before deciding to at least try to make small talk. "Er," she began, "you trained at the Scotland Academy?"

She was nervously twisting her serviette in her lap. She couldn't understand what in the world was wrong with her. She was acting remarkably like the hostess that had seated them only moments before. This was Malfoy, for Merlin's sake!

"Yes."

"And you've spent time in Bulgaria?"

"I have."

"Have you been back in London long?"

"No."

"So, which one did it? The academy or Bulgaria," she asked curiously.

"Pardon?" The indifferent veneer seemed to crack a little.

"Well," Hermione said innocently, "I was just wondering which of those two experiences changed you from the snivelling Slytherin Prince, to this, oh I don't know, amazing Auror Harry was talking about."

"Slytherin Ice King"

It was her turn to look at him blankly.

"You said Slytherin Prince, I was known as the Slytherin Ice King. Come on Granger, you, of all people, should know how important I regard lineage and titles."

"Malfoy," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "Don't be a git. But I notice you've started talking in more than one word sentences."

"I'll stop acting like a git," Malfoy retorted, "when you stop provoking me. And I'm perfectly capable of talking in proper sentences."

"Look, Malfoy, why don't we make this easy on the both of us? I don't want to work with you, you don't want to work with me, so why don't we just tell Kingsley and Harry that it's not going to work?"

"Granger, where did you get the notion that I don't want to work with you?"

"I'm not in mood to play games, Malfoy. I don't care what you want at this point. The thing is that I don't trust you. I'll never trust you. Besides, I do believe and I really have never said this to anyone in my life, but I truly believe that I hate you."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Well," he said, sounding quite impressed, "your bluntness is rather refreshing, I must say. Look, I can't change the way you feel about me, and to be honest, I don't really give a shit what your feelings are. I do care, however, about my career, and this assignment, which I've been working towards for a long time."

He took a deep breath, as though he was trying to steady himself before continuing. "Things have been, well, difficult for me, especially since I've got that 'rather nice tattoo' on my arm, as you said before, and I'm not going to let you and your feelings get in the way."

They sat facing each other, the tea and biscuits untouched. Hermione was quite positive that if there were such things as Unforgivable Glares, Draco Malfoy would have been dropping dead right about now. Draco's face was hard and unreadable. His unwavering gaze was not giving any of his inner turmoil away.

"Oh, I can imagine how difficult it has been for you. What with having to try to convince everyone that the reason you were such an arsehole for seven years and the reason for you taking the dark mark was because you were forced to. And trying to prove to everyone that you're not the same arsehole you were back then. I bet that took a lot of time and energy. But look at you now, Wonder Man. You must be an amazing actor."

"Granger," Malfoy said coldly. "Let us get something crystal clear. I'm still the same arsehole you knew at school. It would benefit you to remember that. There are some who may say that I've changed, but the fact is I am still the same person. The only thing that is different is the fact that I now recognize that my views were a bit skewed. If you're still the smartest witch ever to come out of Hogwarts you would know better than to perceive my change of view as a weakness."

"I'm smart enough to know that this conversation is over," Hermione said angrily, and, with a loud pop, she disapparated.