AN: As a general note, I'll be fairly busy over the next two weeks and my intention is to get another chapter out by next Tuesday latest (fingers crossed!) Without further ado, here's the next installment. Happy reading all!

CHAPTER FOUR

Now I'm Here

Hermione walked into the Ministry Monday morning with her head held high. To all outward appearances, she looked the epitome of calm, confident collectedness. Behind the meticulous front, however, it was an entire story altogether. She was an utter mess of rattled nerves. The photos she had found outside her flat had shaken her terribly. She had hardly slept the previous night and had kept checking her wards, afraid that some faceless murderer was stalking the hall outside just waiting for her to let her guard down.

Once in the Department of Internal Defense, she was greeted by an ever-chipper Pansy. "Good morning!" she called, sliding gracefully out from behind the reception desk.

"Hello, Pansy," she replied.

The young woman handed her several letters. "These came in the mail for you. If I'm not mistaken one of them looks to be a check for the benefit." She grinned widely. "See? It's not beyond the realm of reason to hope that more donors will pull through in the next two weeks."

She was trying to cheer Hermione up, and she appreciated the effort. "I suppose," was her half-hearted reply.

Pansy frowned. "Cheer up, Hermione. Things can only get better, right? Did you make any progress in the investigation?"

Hermione shook her head. She had decided that it would be best to keep the photos and note to herself for the time being. No sense in rousing needless worry. "No, not really. I'm thinking it might be helpful to revisit the crime scenes."

Pansy nodded enthusiastically. "You'll get him. I know you will."

Hermione nodded. "Hopefully sooner than later."

"There's one last thing…" Pansy began, scrounging around the surface of her desk. She pulled out a small note card. "Ah. Here we go." She passed it to Hermione. "Kingsley's made an appointment with you scheduled for later this morning."

Hermione took the appointment card. "Thanks. Well, I'll see you later."

Pansy returned to her desk, promptly settling back into responding to owl mail, and registering and organizing completed case files.

Hermione strode into her office, softly closing the door behind her. She was hoping that Kingsley had thought up some ingenious plan to bring attention to the serial killings. It was her firm belief that the more attention there was directed at him, the more he'd second guess himself. Hopefully that would increase the chances of him taking a misstep. Hopefully.

.cppw.

At eleven o'clock sharp, Hermione rapped her knuckles on Kingsley's office door. He called her in, sounding rather cheery. She let herself into the cozy office. Kingsley was flipping through a few documents. He put them aside and gestured for her to take a seat.

"I think I have found a solution, Miss Granger, to this ordeal of yours."

"I'm eager to hear it," she replied carefully, scrutinizing those sly eyes of his.

Kingsley nodded thoughtfully. "I spoke to Mr. Potter earlier this morning to make certain inquiries after my plan. He seemed to be in full support of its potential to, not only bring in the press' attention in order to keep the public better informed of these murders, but to ensure your safety as well."

Hermione frowned deeply. "My safety?" she asked. She had told him about the ribbon incident, but had no intention of telling him about the photos she'd found delivered to her doorstep last night.

A brisk knocking at the door interrupted her thoughts. A secretive smile graced the Minister's lips then, and Hermione felt dread rise in her throat. "Yes?" he called.

The mousy receptionist peered inside the office. "Minister, Mr. Malfoy is here for the meeting."

Hermione froze.

"Please invite him in," Kingsley replied, nonplussed.

Draco gracefully strode into the room, seeming to stop short at the sight of Hermione glaring up at him. He narrowed his eyes into silver slits in return. "Granger," he drawled, unaffected by her hostility.

"Malfoy," she bit out.

Kingsley gestured him to sit in the chair beside Hermione's. She shifted uncomfortably as he stiffly lowered himself into the seat. "Harry told me you wanted to speak with me, sir. I didn't realize the meeting would include anyone else."

"Yes, well, minor detail, don't you agree?" Kingsley's wise dark eyes swept over the clearly unhappy pair. Not so minor a detail, Hermione thought, and judging by Draco's dour expression, it was not so minor in his opinion either. Well, at least they shared some common ground.

"Mr. Malfoy, allow me to quickly bring you up to speed on some recent developments in the Department of Internal Defense. In the past month, there have been three murders. All the victims were female witches and the murders, as Miss Granger was quick to point out, all shared the same MO. To put it plainly, we fear that we may have a serial killer on our hands." Kingsley paused to allow this to sink in.

Hermione turned her perceptive chocolate eyes to Draco, wracking her mind for why the Minister would involve an auror in the intricacies of her case, and Malfoy, no less. Draco was wearing a deep frown on his pale face. One might say he appeared upset by the revelation.

"I had heard whispered rumours, sir. I didn't know the extent of the case." His grim frown deepened. "Has any progress been made in the case?"

Hermione found herself speaking before she could help it. It was her case after all and she was the authority on it. "I've been combing the files for anything that could give me a lead, but there's nothing. The crime scenes are always magically swept clean before we arrive. No magical traces are ever found, not even DNA," she said automatically.

"DNA?" Draco asked, blonde brows knitting together, confused.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Wizards; so hopeless. "It's a muggle version of a magical trace, an imprint of sorts that can be used to identify someone's identity. I've tried employing it since a trace didn't work, but he's incredibly thorough and I've had no luck yet."

Draco turned his eyes to her, staring deeply into her own. Hermione bit her lip, tearing her gaze away from his own. "Forgive my inquiring, Minister," she said abruptly, eager to move the focus away from her case while Malfoy was there, "but why is Malfoy even here? I thought we were going to figure out a plan to draw in the media's attention to raise the public's awareness and encourage citizen self-surveillance?"

Kingsley nodded patiently. "That is indeed why we are here, Miss Granger. That is also why I invited Mr. Malfoy to join us."

Draco narrowed his eyes, reflecting Hermione's own suspicion.

"I have a solution to our problem," he continued pleasantly addressing both of those present in the room. "Mr. Malfoy has had a tireless past two years and I think assigning him some lighter work would serve him well and provide him with adequate time to recover. In a similar vein, Miss Granger, you have been personally attacked by the suspect and you and your family's safety called into question." He paused here, allowing Hermione and Draco time to take this in.

Draco's silver eyes slowly moved from the Minister to Hermione. She shifted beneath the gaze of both men. "What are you implying, Minister?" Hermione asked tersely.

"I am implying nothing, Miss Granger. I am suggesting that Mr. Malfoy take time off from being on-call and serve as your security detail." Hermione and Draco both went still at this. "Mr. Malfoy is attracting much of the press' attention these days which will automatically bring attention to the case you're working."

Hermione was out of her chair in an instant, nearly knocking it over. She was flushed with indignation. Kingsley looked up at her tumultuous face, unperturbed. "With all due respect, Minister. I don't see why a security detail is necessary. I'm one of the top agents with Internal Defense. I have been trained extensively in combative magic. I can fend for myself, sir. Respectfully."

Kingsley did not look pleased by her defiant attitude. "Respectfully, Miss Granger, it is our firm policy here at the Ministry to respond to threats posed on official personnel with a security detail. You are a government worker and are not exempt from this regulation."

Draco spoke up finally, voice smooth and level, but there was an evident strain to his normally velvet tone. "Minister, I appreciate your concern, but I don't need time off from work. If anything, I desperately need to keep myself busy. I didn't train for years to become an auror, then lead a company in a two-year long offensive, only to return and be assigned babysitting duty."

Hermione bristled, rounding on him. "Babysittting!"

Draco merely looked up at her, apparently bored by her antics.

"That's quite enough. Both of you." Kingsley rose. Draco swiftly followed suit. The Minister turned first to him. "Fortunate for you, Mr. Malfoy, that I am sure that with Miss Granger's security on your hands you will by kept sufficiently 'busy'." Draco tried and failed to conceal a scowl. Kingsley's knowing eyes then drifted to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you will continue to work your case and Mr. Malfoy will back you up throughout your investigation. As a security detail he will take care of securing both your home and your family's home to protect you from potential threats. That is final."

Draco pursed his lips. Hermione fumed silently beside him.

"Minister, please reconsider…" she began, but was promptly cut off.

"I will do no such thing," he said briskly. "Now, if the two of you will return to your department, Miss Granger you can debrief Mr. Malfoy on the case." He turned his dark eyes to Draco. "I trust this will not be a problem." His eyes slid back to Hermione. "For either of you."

"Not at all, sir," Draco replied levelly, all traces of disapproval vanished from his face. He looked, much to Hermione's annoyance, the epitome of professionalism.

Draco was the first to shift into motion. He let himself out of the office and Hermione begrudgingly followed after him, closing the door behind them. She marched past him and the mousy secretary, straight to the lift, punching the call button with a vengeance. The doors opened and she stormed inside, holding it open until Draco had caught up with his long, unhurried strides and stepped in as well. The doors shut and the magical lift began dropping and jerking to and fro. The two silent occupants of the lift planted their feet wide and firmly to keep their balance. Silence pervaded.

Hermione was roiling with fury inside. How was it that of all the people she could end up having assigned to her as a security detail, it had to be Malfoy? Malfoy! She huffed angrily, crossing her arms over her chest. Ever since Hogwarts she had successfully evaded the prat, but now that he was back and all of a sudden the unlikely hero of the hour, he was everywhere. Not only was he buddies with her best friend, but now he was her partner in a manner of speaking. Some greater power was out to get her, that much was certain.

"You know, you could try a little harder to hide how much this arrangement infuriates you," he said evenly, as the doors of the lift finally slid open on their floor.

Hermione pursed her lips, refusing to look at him. "Bugger off," she growled.

He easily kept pace with her as she navigated her way towards her office. "Tell me, when did you become so pleasant to be around?"

Hermione didn't deign his taunt with a response. Soon enough, Pansy came into view. Apparently it wasn't a busy day at the department because she had a bare foot planted on the desk and a jar of black nail polish open beside her. She delicately brushed the shiny polish across her perfectly manicured toenails. She looked up as Hermione and Draco drew near, her eyes widening.

"What happened? You both look like you just got a disciplinary scolding"

"We did, in a manner of speaking. But it's worse than that," Hermione scowled.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Kinglsey's assigned me as Granger's security detail. She's pissed because she's immature and can't handle working with an old foe from school," Draco grit out.

Pansy's eyes widened even more, with anticipation or dread at what was sure to be a coming storm, only she knew.

Hermione rounded on him, fire flaring dangerously behind her dark eyes, one slender finger pointed accusingly at his chest. "That has nothing to do with it."

Draco quirked a fine brow, clearly not believing her one bit.

Hermione grumbled under her breath. "Fine! Maybe it has a little bit to do with it. But I'm not immature! I don't know you, all right? The fact of the matter is that I don't like you. I never got a chance to… get used to you… unlike my traitorous friends," she growled. "And I don't trust you. Not with my safety and certainly not with my parents' safety. I can handle myself. I don't need or want your help," she snapped venomously.

A moment of silence encompassed the tense office space. Hermione's cheeks were slightly flushed and Draco was wearing a downright surly expression, clearly irked by her cold words. He leaned towards her until his face was several inches away. Neither looked away, both equally fierce in their face-off.

"Well, here's news for you, Granger. No one gives a fuck what you want. I'm not asking you to trust me. Kingsley's confidence in me should be enough to placate any of your concerns. I'm not the bigoted child that I used to be. I'm an auror—a professional—and I do my job bloody well. You may not like me, and I may not be particularly fond of this arrangement, but my job is to guarantee you and your family's safety, and that," he paused, his gaze meaningfully serious, "you can rely on me to do," he countered. His face lingered close to hers for a moment longer than necessary, their harsh breaths intermingling in a disconcertingly intimate way. He slowly pulled his head away, towering over her.

Hermione's heart was pounding loudly in her chest as she drew in a slow, calming breath, her fists clenched by her side. This was a pointless battle. It was wasting precious time and energy. He was stuck with her, and she with him. There was nothing to be done about it. She would just have to deal with it. He was right, though she'd never admit it to him, but she was being immature about this situation.

"Meet me in my office in five," she stated sharply, before turning on her heels, leaving a frowning Malfoy and suspiciously grinning Pansy behind her.

.cppw.

Draco had been sitting in the chair opposite her desk for the past five minutes and Hermione had not so much as looked up to acknowledge him. He hadn't seemed bothered at first by her obvious avoidance of him and his duties, but judging by his steadily tapping fingers across the armrest, it was finally grating on him.

She looked up from her case file, surprised to see his grey eyes staring fiercely into her skull. She blinked, shifting under his gaze.

"Are you done ignoring me?" he asked. "Because despite what you may think, I still have other responsibilities to tend to. Ones that don't involve you."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. She slid a copy of the case across the desk to him. He took it into his hands, flipping through the documents and images. He took his time, carefully perusing the documents. She didn't rush him, but watched carefully as he progressed through her investigation. He kept a relatively straight face, not betraying his emotions, but the occasional tick in his jaw certainly looked like withheld anger.

"This is revolting. It's sick."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "Yeah."

"What's the Ministry doing to spread awareness?" he asked, finally looking up at her.

Hermione tossed a copy of the Prophet onto the desk in front of him. "Not much. The information is in the press' hands." She watched as his silver eyes scanned the inadequate coverage of the suspected serial killings. "Unfortunately, the Prophet cares more about what cologne you're wearing than dying women," she said coldly.

His porcelain face held no emotion when he finally looked back up at her. "I didn't ask for this attention."

"Well you've got it," she snapped, "and now that you're on my security detail, I fully intend on exploiting you." Her eyes flashed challengingly, as if daring him to say something in protest. He didn't rise to the bait.

Leaning back in his seat, he tossed the paper back onto the desk, crossing his muscled arms over his chest and levelling his eyes at her. "Kingsley said you were threatened. It's why I'm here in the first place."

Hermione scowled. She pulled open the top desk drawer and withdrew the yellow ribbon. He watched her carefully, curious. She ran her fingers over the familiar material, trying to ignore the sickening feeling in her chest. She thrust it towards him. He took it. His eyes carefully appraised her, before lowering to scan the elegant script.

"Do you understand the game yet?" he recited, turning over the faded ribbon in his hands. "Does it mean something to you?" he asked, sliding it back across the desk. Hermione didn't take it.

"Not really. Obviously this is some kind of sick game to him, one that he's involved me in." She rose from her desk, running a shaky hand through her hair. "That ribbon was mine when I was a little girl. It's been sitting in a box of mementos in my parents' attic for the past twenty years." Her dark eyes met his silver ones. "He was in my parents' house, Malfoy. He was in their house," she repeated, feeling shivers run up her arms. She dug the heels of her palms into her weary eyes. "He could've…" she couldn't finish the thought.

"But he didn't," he said with assuredness. Hermione lowered her hands and looked at his impassive face, oddly comforted by his certainty. "Take me there."

Hermione raised her brow. "What?"

"To your parents' house," he clarified. "I'll strengthen the wards, perform some safety measures. Regulation stuff. The auror emergency response team will be notified should there be some kind of breach of non-secure persons." He rose from his seat, not wasting any time.

Hermione wanted to tell him no. She didn't want him in her childhood home. She could take care of her parents. She struggled with the desire to refuse him, but ultimately conceded. She wouldn't let her pride get in the way of securing her parents' safety.

"Okay," she relented, "but I don't want to scare them. So don't let on about the serial killer." He didn't look too pleased with her request. "Please," she whispered, too tired to argue.

He seemed to weigh his options for a moment. "They should be made aware of the facts, Granger. But it's not for me to explain the situation to them."

Hermione nodded, hating how his words made her feel guilty for wanting to protect her parents from unnecessary worry.

"Let's go," she said, eager to get things rolling.

.cppw.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was knocking on her childhood home's door. She couldn't quite believe that she was standing on her parents' stoop right beside Draco Malfoy. Never in her wildest dream had she imagined the equivalent of this bewildering situation. "Be nice," she hissed at him when she heard the locks being undone on the other side of the door.

He directed a grin at her. "I'm the epitome of charm, Granger."

The door opened to reveal a greying Jane Granger, hair swept up in a top-bun, wearing faded jeans and a t-shirt, an apron dusted in flour tied about her waist. She beamed at the sight of her daughter. "Hermione! Sweetheart, I wasn't expecting you!"

She embraced her daughter, ushering her inside, the smell of fresh baked bread warming Hermione's body and reawakening nostalgic memories of her childhood. Jane's green eyes turned to survey the tall, handsome figure that Draco Malfoy cut. She gave her daughter a mischievous smirk and Hermione inwardly groaned when she saw the twinkle in her mother's eye.

"And who might this dashing young man be?"

Malfoy courteously took her hand in his. "Draco Malfoy. Mrs. Granger, it's a real pleasure."

Jane smiled warmly, patting his hand affectionately. "Oh, call me Jane, dear."

Hermione watched as several emotions flitted across Draco's austere face. He looked taken aback by the effortless warmth of her mother's greeting.

"Henry! Come down and meet Hermione's boyfriend!" Jane hollered up the stairs.

Hermione felt her cheeks burn bright red. Draco stiffened beside her, also shocked at Jane's assumption. He shifted uneasily beside her.

"Mom, we're not…"

"You're mistaken, Mrs. Granger…"

"He's not my boyfriend…

"Your daughter's a fine girl, but…"

"He's really not my type…"

"We're just work acquaintances…"

"… and he's a prat, really."

Draco shot her a glare at that. "A prat?" he hissed at her as Henry Granger appeared in the living room, a broad smile on his face.

Hermione shrugged and gave him a sly, saccharine smile. Draco scoffed.

"Hi, dad," she said, kissing him on his coarse cheek.

"Hello, baby girl." His smile dimmed somewhat, when he looked up at Draco, his kind, wise eyes appraising the tall man before him. He held out his hand, firm. "Henry Granger."

"Draco Malfoy." He shook Hermione's father's firm hand.

"You're the tyrant from her school years. The one who made her life at Hogwarts a misery, aren't you?" Henry demanded flatly.

Hermione choked on her own breath, eyes widening. Draco stiffened, attempted to speak, but faltered, completely unprepared to respond to Henry's brusque, but nonetheless astute, observation.

"Dad," Hermione said warningly.

"He's your boyfriend?" Henry asked, accusingly.

"No. He's not."

Jane smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry dear, you both just looked so well-suited. I just assumed…"

"No harm done, Mrs. Granger," Malfoy insisted gruffly, finally finding his voice.

"Just as well," Mr. Granger mumbled. "Well?" he asked, gaze directed at Malfoy.

"Henry…" Jane said, taking his arm.

"I was no friend of your daughter's while at Hogwarts, sir," Draco said, voice surprisingly even. Hermione was quite frankly shocked that he had responded honestly to her father's rather curt inquiry. "I regret that I was unkind to many of my peers during my teenage years. I've been trying to make amends."

Henry nodded, the fraught lines in his face softening somewhat.

Hermione felt responsible for Draco, somehow. She had brought him unwittingly into the crossfire of her dad's protectiveness. Without much thought, she stepped slightly in front of Draco, taking a defensive stance, her shoulder brushing his arm unintentionally. "He's changed, Dad. " She glanced over her shoulder at him, only to find his silver eyes intently watching her, some unknown emotion swirling behind his smoky gaze. "He's done great things for the Wizarding World, and I… I've forgiven him for the past." She felt Draco's body tense behind her, felt him release a long breath that tickled the back of her neck. "He's here to help me secure the house."

"I thought you already did?" Henry asked, attention now on Hermione.

"Draco works for the Ministry and has more security measures at his disposal. We won't be long," she assured him.

"What's going on, Hermione?" he pressed, eyes narrowed.

Hermione shifted under her dad's sharp gaze. "I'm working on a murder case. It's just a precaution, nothing to worry about," she explained, brushing it off.

Henry relented, returning to his study to read, while Jane went off to check on her Cornish pasties. Hermione in the meantime, took Malfoy around the main floor. He secured the floo, creating an emergency line to both the Internal Defense Department and Hermione's own apartment. They worked silently while he threw up some wards on the main level to enforce Hermione's, then she proceeded to lead him upstairs to the second story.

Halfway up the dim stairwell, he caught her wrist, jolting her to a stop. Hermione felt her heart tighten uncomfortably as she turned to face him, his angular face somewhat cast in shadow. She was two steps above him, which left her even with his height. She found herself staring straight into two silver pools. She swallowed thickly.

"You forgive me?" he asked, his voice low.

Hermione licked her lips and studied his handsome features. She had never been this close to his face before, and what a pretty face it was – surprisingly angelic. She caught herself, and chastised her wayward thoughts. "I guess I do," she breathed shakily, ultra-aware of how close he was to her.

He released her wrist and merely nodded, thoughtful. Then he smirked. "So you've told your parents about me?" he asked with a smirk. The intensity of the moment vanished in a flash and Hermione rolled her eyes. Electing to ignore him, she continued up the stairs.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was satisfied with Malfoy's work and no longer regretting allowing him to enter her parents' home. Aside from her mother's awkward interpretation of their relationship and her father's own Spanish Inquisition, quietly working alongside Draco had proven not as terrible as she had thought it would be. He was a quiet, diligent worker, like herself, she hated to admit.

She found her parents in the kitchen softly talking. She walked inside, Draco waiting in the arch of the room, not wanting to overstep his welcome. He was still treading thin waters with her dad.

"Well, we're done here," she declared.

Jane smiled, turning her gaze to Draco who stood stiffly in the doorway. "Are you going to secure Hermione's flat now?"

"No, he's not," Hermione said quickly, talking over Draco's response. She shot him a glare. "I can take care of my own flat."

Jane didn't look happy with this. "But you said he had more measures available to him. Your father and I would feel a lot better if he'd take care of you as well."

Hermione bristled at the thought of Draco 'taking care of her', as her mother put it. She made to speak, but this time Draco spoke over her, confident and collected. "I couldn't agree more, Mrs. Granger."

"Jane," she corrected warmly.

"Jane," he repeated smoothly, directing a sly smile at Hermione. She narrowed her eyes at him. Who did he think he was, coming into her home and charming her mother like that? Why she ought to…

"Your mother is right, Hermione. Take the appropriate measures," her father chimed.

Hermione recognized a lost battle the minute her father backed Malfoy. She didn't stand a chance. She huffed, "Fine. I'll do it. Are you all happy?" she growled.

Jane smiled brightly and laughed. "You can be so stubborn, sweetheart. But it's for the best."

A few minutes later Hermione and Draco were leaving the house. Jane quickly caught Hermione's wrist while Draco walked halfway down the front path. "Your friend is really quite charming. Bring him over again soon."

Hermione didn't respond to that, fighting back the blush that was spreading across her cheeks. She joined Malfoy behind a particularly large tree, concealing them from the view of any muggles who might potentially see them apparate. She grabbed his arm to side-along apparate when she felt him staring intently at her.

"You're blushing something terrible," he observed.

Hermione avoided his eyes. "My mom just said something silly…"

"She likes me."

"Yes, well, I've always questioned her tastes."

He chuckled softly, his body vibrating beneath her hand. That deep, rich sound echoed around them as she apparated them onto the doorstep outside her London flat.

.cppw.

Hermione let Draco into her flat. It was unsettling to see the tall blonde man who was once the bane of her teenage existence walking casually into her flat. They stood in her living room for a moment. She shuffled uneasily while he scanned the small room. He soundlessly began to wave his wand, testing the strength of her wards. She felt proud when he didn't improve upon them. She was that good.

Crookshanks, curious as to who the stranger in his home was, waddled up to them and began to weave his way between their ankles. Hermione laughed softly when Draco's lips morphed into an unfriendly scowl. He stepped away from the ginger half-kneazle, continuing his work, but Crooks was having none of that, apparently taking a liking to him. She watched, glaring at her cat, as he brushed up against Malfoy's calf and started to purr. "Traitor," she muttered under her breath. Why did everyone in her life, including her mother and now her cat, seem so smitten with Malfoy?

Crookshanks began to paw at his pants and Malfoy seemed acutely uncomfortable. "Would you care to remove your feline from my trousers?"

Hermione, rather amused at the site of a discomfited Malfoy, merely shrugged. "I wouldn't care to, actually." She grinned in response to his glower, contenting herself with watching him make a vain attempt at ignoring the insistent cat.

He finished securing the living room, kitchen and the floo system. His eyes paused on the mantle, scanning the photos Hermione had set up there of her and her friends, her parents, and to the extreme left, one of her wrapped in Ron's arms. Call her sentimental, but she still hadn't had the heart to take that one down. It had been a wonderful day. She quickly looked away. He turned to her, face shadowed. "Anymore windows?"

"Just the bedroom, come on," she called, leading him into her bedroom. He walked right in after her, as if standing in Hermione Granger's bedroom was the most natural thing to do. She was grateful when he set to securing the windows without making any comments or looking around too much.

"Done," he said softly, some minutes later.

They stood in her bedroom for a silent moment until Hermione broke the awkward silence. "Let's get out of here, then." She met his gaze for a moment and his eyes were penetrating. She was lost for a moment, in those perceptive, entrancing eyes. She felt like he could see right through her and it unsettled her. "Right." She turned away from him and led him out into the hallway where they silently apparated back to the Ministry.

.cppw.

That week passed by quickly. Things in the department were relatively quiet. Hermione had arranged to visit the first murder location on Friday so she had little need for Malfoy's assistance until then. It was Thursday and mercifully she hadn't seen him since Monday. At around four o'clock, Pansy skipped into her office, lively and spritely as usually.

"So are you coming over to mine to get ready for tonight?" she asked cheerily, plopping down into the chair opposite Hermione.

Hermione looked at her blankly. "What's happening tonight?" she asked, distracted.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "It's the award ceremony, remember? The Ministry is presenting Draco's team with honourary medals for their work abroad."

Hermione groaned inwardly. She had completely forgotten about the ceremony. She'd been far too immersed in her work to pay attention to such trivialities. She would have to go, of course. It would reflect poorly on her to not should her support for the team. "I don't have anything to wear," she said tersely, putting her papers away.

Pansy grinned blindingly. "That's fine. I have a great new outfit that I think will look fantastic on you."

Hermione begrudgingly conceded to Pansy's desire to dress her for the evening, hoping she wouldn't regret it. Two hours later, she and Pansy walked into the Ministry ballroom which was bustling with members from various departments, press reporters, journalists, photographers, and the family and friends of those being honoured that evening.

Everyone looked elegant as they enjoyed bright cocktails and delicate canapés. Hermione couldn't help but admire the lively, optimistic atmosphere.

She glanced down at her own apparel, thoughtful. Pansy had given her a classy ensemble to wear, consisting of a pair of high-waisted, straight-legged black slacks, classy black heels, and a white, fitted v-neck blouse with a wide neckline that just barely clung to her shoulders, exposing her pail neck, petite shoulders, and a tasteful amount of her chest and back. Hermione shifted uncomfortably. The outfit was not something she would normally wear. It accentuated everything: her chest, her waist, her legs, and her neck. And it showed more skin in the collarbone to sternum area than she'd recalled ever showing. She felt incredibly exposed and insecure, despite Pansy's continuous reassurances that she looked 'simply beautiful'.

Hermione made small talk with several of her peers until Harry and Ginny appeared beside her and Pansy. Harry looked smart in a formal suit beneath his official robes and Ginny looked the epitome of grace in a periwinkle knee-length number that flowed listlessly around her thighs.

"Hermione! You look amazing!" Ginny exclaimed, fiercely hugging her friend. Hermione returned the gesture with a warm smile. Harry seconded the compliment.

"It's all Pansy, really," Hermione insisted. Pansy basked in the praise that ensued and the group chatted, soon joined by Neville Longbottom and his fiancé, Luna Lovegood. They were an odd, but charming little couple and Hermione couldn't help but admire how well they got along despite the others' respective eccentricities.

The crowd mingled for an hour or so until a voice announced that the ceremony would be starting, asking everyone to kindly take their seats. The group of peers made their way towards the front, sitting around one-third down the length of the rows of seats. Hermione sat between Pansy and Ginny, settling in for the ceremony.

Kingsley took to the stage dressed in formal Wizarding robes. He looked regal standing there at the podium, majestic violet robes richly swaying with each step.

"Welcome, all, and thank you for joining us this evening to celebrate this important moment in history. Two years ago, a team of one dozen of our finest aurors were assembled and deployed on a mission of utmost significance. For the past two years, these brave men and women have scoured Europe to locate and contain the last of the free-roaming Death Eaters. Today we recognize their efforts by awarding them with high honours to commend their dedicated work. We are all greatly in their debt."

Hermione listened politely to the Minister as he called up each auror in turn to receive their respective honours. A polite and warm applause followed each auror. The eleventh name to be called was Blaise Zabini, who fell last in the alphabetical list of names. Pansy applauded with renewed fervour when they called him, sitting up straighter in her seat. Hermione glanced sideways at her, watching the young woman's face which was filled with adoration. Hermione smirked and applauded as well as Kingsley pinned the medal of honour to his chest.

"Lastly, this young man served as the team's fearless leader throughout the entire, arduous process. A pillar of strength and constancy for his team, he saw them safely through these past two years. He brought our soldiers home and with them the promise of peace. Please join me in commending Mr. Draco Malfoy, task force leader."

An uproar rose in response to this final name as the crowd surged to their feet. Camera flashes went off in a violent flurry, capturing every step the tall blonde took across the stage. Hermione rose as well, she wouldn't have been able to see, otherwise, and carefully watched his progress across the platform.

His face was set in a firm expression of determination. He betrayed no sense of being flattered or particularly pleased by the high praise he had received and the wild cheers that had erupted for him. In fact, to Hermione's trained eye, he appeared uncomfortable with the praise. Kingsley pinned the medal to his chest, and the two men shook hands.

Another few minutes and Kingsley's closing comments of a future peace came to an end on a hopeful note and the crowd rose, applauding, as the chairs vanished into thin air. Moments later, waiters swept out with trays of drinks and canapés. Instrumental music began to play and everyone mingled.

Hermione, Pansy, Ginny and Harry hung together towards the edge of the room, discussing the ceremony. Neville and Luna had slipped out right after the ceremony. Neville had to get to a night-shift at St. Mungos.

"Weren't the boys so handsome up there?" Pansy asked dreamily. "Blaise looked just fine, didn't he?"

Hermione and Ginny laughed gently at this. "Someone's smitten," Ginny cooed. Pansy blushed, making the three friends laugh harder than before.

"Who's smitten?" came the sultry voice of Blaise Zabini. He and Draco had crept up behind them. Blaise was smiling brightly at everyone, thanking them for coming out to support them. Hermione couldn't help but notice Draco sulking beside him, unsmiling as ever. He hardly seemed to notice anybody, content to just stare at his polished black dress shoes.

"Those were some words the Minister shared about you, Draco," Harry said lightly.

Draco looked up, shrugged. "It was unnecessary. I just did my job," he drawled.

Harry shook his head. "People don't realize just how dedicated you were to the task. You saved the teams' lives multiple times," he pushed.

Hermione's brows rose at that. "You did?" she asked, before she could help herself.

Draco turned his grey eyes to her as if seeing her for the first time. She felt a shiver course through her as those smoky eyes took in her figure, slowly drifting from her face to her ensemble. She could almost feel his eyes tracing her bare shoulders. She instinctively wrapped her arms around her waist. His expression darkened somewhat, his eyes glittering with some indefinable emotion. She shuffled her weight from foot to foot, uneasy, and his eyes promptly returned to her face.

"Once or twice," was his gruff reply. He looked away from her.

Blaise smacked his back. "He's being modest. This guy hardly slept these past two years, paranoid about keeping us safe. He stopped two surprise Death Eater attacks in the middle of the night and saved just about all of our skins at some point during take-downs."

Hermione observed Malfoy for a moment. He was scowling at Blaise. She realized then, rather shockingly, that Draco Malfoy truly had changed. He wasn't the boy she had known all those years ago, the snotty prat who craved attention and spoke down to anyone he felt superior to. He was a man now, a man who, from her perspective, looked like he had many demons.

"I think you've impressed Hermione, Draco," Pansy chimed mischievously. "She's rarely ever that thoughtful after a conversation. I think you struck a chord."

Hermione glared at Pansy. Draco was watching her again, quietly assessing. She hated when he did that, she felt so vulnerable for some reason. "Excuse me for a moment," she said rather quickly.

Without waiting for a response, she strode away from the small group, making her way across the floor. She reached the other side of the room where the band was playing and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Why was she feeling so overwhelmed? How was it that Malfoy seemed to make her lose her composure so easily? It wasn't like her. She attributed it to nerves, stress and being overworked. She just needed to clear her head for a moment…

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione's head shot up, cheeks lightly flushed, as she looked for the source of the feminine, airy voice. Her eyes landed on the last woman she ever thought she'd encounter in the Ministry. It shouldn't have surprised her, though. Why wouldn't Narcissa Malfoy come to support her son?

"Mrs. Malfoy. Hello," she said curtly.

She hadn't seen the woman in years, not since she'd been tortured in the manor and then at the final battle. Everyone knew now that it was in part thanks to Narcissa's deception that Harry survived the final battle at all. Hermione didn't really know the woman at all, but she had never been personally injured by her in anyway, so she gave her the benefit of the doubt. There was no reason to not be polite to the Malfoy matriarch.

"I'm so glad to have run into you," she said kindly, her blue eyes softening.

Hermione was taken slightly by surprise to hear the warmth in the outwardly regal-looking woman. "You are?"

Narcissa lightly placed her hand on Hermione's shoulder, a sympathetic gesture. "Draco's told me about the case you're working on. It's horrible what's been done to those poor girls."

Hermione could only nod. Draco had spoken to his mother about her? How incredibly odd and unsettling.

"But I'm sure there's no one more suited to the task of bringing a murderer to justice than you. Draco says you've always been a bright young witch."

Hermione's eyes widened. "He said that?"

"Why yes," she said, as if Draco Malfoy complimenting anyone was the most normal thing in the world. "But let's not speak of such grim tidings on a day as celebratory as this. I've heard only recently of the campaign you've been working behind, to create a scholarship to support witches pursuing politics. I just yesterday made a donation for your benefit. It's a wonderful cause," she declared, her hand slipping away from Hermione's shoulder.

"Thank you," Hermione said. "That's very generous."

"Have you almost reached your goal? I recall you set the bar at 400,000 galleons."

Hermione averted her gaze, never one to enjoy admitting failure. "I'm afraid not," she said begrudgingly. "As of yesterday I'm still over one-hundred thousand galleons shy. I suppose I overestimated myself."

"Nonsense. There's still a week to go. I'm sure you'll find a way," she said encouragingly. The elegant woman took a dainty sip of champagne, blue eyes twinkling.

Hermione couldn't help but stare at her in awe. She seemed so kind. She had never imagined Narcissa would prove to be this down-to-earth. There was something about how she carried herself and spoke that fostered a sense of motherliness and nurturing.

"I hope you're right," Hermione replied in earnest, though doubting that she'd come up with the funds by next Saturday.

Narcissa's smile widened even more, her eyes flitting just over Hermione's left shoulder. She followed the woman's gaze and jumped. Draco Malfoy was towering over her, just behind her, nearly touching her back. She willed her heart to cease its mad pounding.

"Mother," he said, voice low. "I'm glad you made it."

Narcissa reached for her son's hand, pulling him closer until he stood between the two women. She squeezed his hand, then let it go, beaming proudly. "I wouldn't miss it. I am so proud of you, darling. And you looked so dashing up there."

Draco smiled thinly, his eyes shifting to Hermione briefly before returning to his mother.

"I was just having a lovely conversation with Miss Granger. Have you heard about the campaign she's working on?" Narcissa asked conversationally.

"No, I haven't," he said levelly, turning to Hermione. Narcissa turned to her as well, nodding encouragingly at her.

"Oh, right. Well," she paused to collect her thoughts, "it's just another one of my pet projects. I'm sure you recall my affinity for S.P.E.W.," she recollected thoughtfully.

The corner of Malfoy's lips upturned at the corner. "How could anyone forget," he teased. Teased? Now he was teasing her? She was clearly going mad. Or he was. Either way.

"Through the campaign I'm trying to raise money to fund a scholarship for witches pursuing politics in higher education. I've moved on from house elf labour to the bridging of the gender divide," she admitted with a self-deprecating shrug. "There's a gala next week for the donors where the program will be launched."

"How very noble of you," Draco said. "Though, I'd expect no less from a Gryffindor."

Hermione glowered at him. Narcissa laughed gently. "I like this one, Draco. She's quite charming."

It was Hermione's turn to laugh as Draco's cheeks burned red. "Mother," he growled warningly.

"Son," Narcissa replied innocently. "Make sure you donate generously to Miss Granger's cause," she instructed her son. "I must be off." She kissed Draco's cheek then, much to Hermione's surprise kissed hers as well. "I suppose I'll see you next week then."

"Yes," Hermione replied, somewhat breathless. With that, Narcissa swept through the crowd in an elegant swirl of emerald skirts. For a time, Hermione and Draco simply stared after her. "You mother is…"

"Meddlesome," he offered helpfully.

"Lovely," she said. Draco gave her a long, searching look. She looked up at him and smirked. "Were you adopted? Because I don't believe you share any of her genes."

Draco rolled his eyes, scowling. Together they made their way back through the crowd until they joined Harry, Ginny, Pansy and Blaise once more. Pansy was directing a strange look at them and Hermione belatedly realized just how close she was standing to Draco. She subtly took a step to the side.

"What have you two been up to? Kingsley came looking for you with several quality gentlemen and women who wanted to meet you," Blaise said.

"What a shame I missed them," Draco murmured, though anyone could tell he didn't consider it a shame at all.

Pansy wasn't going to let the first half of Blaise's inquiry go unanswered. "So what were you two up to?" she demanded.

Draco quirked a brow, amused by Pansy's eagerness. "My mother cornered Granger and I chivalrously swept in to spare her my mother's antics."

"You met Narcissa?" Pansy exclaimed giddily. "Isn't she just the most kind and elegant lady you've ever met?"

Hermione nodded. "She's very sweet and the embodiment of poise. I was enjoying our conversation up until Malfoy interrupted with his grim mood."

Draco pursed his lips, eyes flashing. "I'm not grim."

"You're a little grim, mate," Harry insisted. The others nodded emphatically.

"Well forgive me for resenting all of this ostentatious pomp and circumstance. It's no desire of mine to see my face plastered on every page of the Prophet," he growled moodily.

The conversation lightened after this and Hermione fell into silence, content to just listen to her friends' blithe chatter. Malfoy stood quietly beside her, hands buried in his pockets, eyes scanning the room. He always seemed so alert. Hermione wondered if it was due to spending two years watching his back.

"Your mother mentioned something shocking earlier," she said softly.

He didn't look at her, but his jaw tightened. "And what, pray tell, was that?"

Hermione couldn't help the grin that forced its way onto her face. "She said you think I'm a bright young witch."

Draco tensed beside her.

"And that's an exact quote. I'm quite flattered," Hermione teased. "To think the great Draco Malfoy complimented me, albeit indirectly. I might just swoon."

Draco turned his head towards her, staring at her with no trace of humour on his face. "You don't think I'm capable of complimenting you?" he asked, a challenge in his eyes.

Hermione shrugged, nonchalant. Frankly, she didn't expect anything from him. She just wanted to rile him up a bit, get back at him for some of the jabs he'd thrown at her over the past two weeks. "I don't think your pride could handle complimenting me in person."

She looked up at him and her smirk faltered. He was gazing intently at her, as if weighing something significant in his mind. He subtly angled his body towards her own, leaning close to her, his steel-grey eyes firmly holding her own. "Well, then permit me to say that you look beautiful tonight. In fact, I'm tempted to say that you're the most striking woman in the room," he breathed, his lips close to her ear, eyes commanding her own.

Hermione felt her knees tremble beneath her. Her heart lurched in her chest and all of a sudden she forgot the most basic function of how to breathe. She could feel a deep blush staining her pale cheeks. He chuckled deeply and stood his full height once more, clearly pleased with himself. Hermione averted her gaze, unsure of how to handle the situation. Was he goading her? Teasing her? She really couldn't tell. He had spoken so assuredly, like to him those words were a simple truth.

"I'll pass the compliment along to Pansy. She's the one who chose the outfit," Hermione replied tersely, brushing aside the compliment entirely in hopes of diffusing the disconcerting intensity of his words.

"I'm not complimenting Pansy, Granger. I'm complimenting you," he said, voice deep, hardly louder than a whisper.

Hermione tried to look into his eyes, but those silver orbs were far too intense. She couldn't handle their force. "What are you playing at?" she asked shakily, careful to not be overhead by those clustered closely around them.

Draco pursed his lips. "What are you on about?"

"You're trying to get a rise from me, aren't you?" she hissed accusingly, fighting back the feeling of hurt. He was trying to embarrass her – it was the only possibility, the only reasonable explanation.

"You need to learn how to take a compliment, Granger," he replied, his tone suddenly taking on an unexpected edge. He turned away from her, as if abruptly disinterested by their conversation. At the same moment, Ginny's voice interrupted the conversation transpiring around them.

"Everything all right you two?"

All eyes simultaneously focused on the two quiet members of the group. Hermione nodded fervently.

"Everything's swell," Draco drawled, as if completely unbothered by the interaction they'd just had. "I was just about to leave, actually."

Hermione thought that Malfoy leaving was just as well. If he wouldn't have, then she would have gladly done so to escape the tension that had abruptly mounted between them. He made his goodbyes, ignoring Hermione altogether. She tried not to let that bother her. She'd exhausted her quota of Malfoy-hours for the day. She fully intended on recovering from the evening by curling up in bed with Crookshanks and a good book: the cure for all ills. She was seeing more of Malfoy than she had in… well, she had never seen this much of him. Ever. It took some getting used to. A little downtime was all that she needed to be right as rain in the morning.

There you have it. The next chapter ups the intensity as Hermione and Draco slowly start piecing together a rather disturbing connection between Hermione and the murders…