Author's Note: Hey everyone. Thanks for all the support on this story, and especially those who left thoughts on the chapter! Reviews are absolute love. I told myself to do better in responding to reviews this year, so I'll be making a point of responding before updates like I used to :)
And thanks also to those who responded about update frequency. I'm currently working on chapter 34 so I'm not too worried right now about posting too fast. We'll stick around a 5-day average I think. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and let me know what you think please!
Alpha love as always to the wonderful Kyonomiko. Errors are my own.
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Harry Potter franchise.
Draco looked up in surprise at a tall cup of tea landing on his desk. He followed the arm to see Granger staring down at him, chewing the inside of her cheek. She wore some sort of extravagant wide-brimmed summer hat with her Unspeakable robes; Draco quirked a brow at her untoward fashion sense.
"What's with the hat?" he asked, scrunching up his face.
She released a tight breath. "Healer Randall's still observing my brain but I convinced her to let me out of St Mungo's. Only I have to wear this awful hat; it's imbued with the cognition diagnostics tracking my brainwaves."
"Noted," Draco said, with a flicker of his brows. "You could probably transfigure it into something less… atrocious."
Granger released a breath, scowling. "Mind your own."
"Thanks for the tea," Draco said, returning to the notes he was taking.
"Nothing worth mentioning in here," Granger said, stacking books one at a time on his desk, from within her bag. "I spent half the night going through this lot."
"Nothing here, either," Draco said. "I wonder if we've reached something too specific to be found in any of these books."
"Probably," Granger shrugged. "We can attempt to draw the latent magic out of the figure today."
"Let's do that," Draco agreed. "I met with Francois Moreau this morning, but nothing new. And no updates on either Madame Moreau or Balthazar O'Connell. All the leads here in the DMLE are currently dead."
Granger clicked her tongue a few times. "Fine. We might have to talk to Unspeakable Burke later, but we can see about attempting to expose the figure to something inside the zero-sensory box. Maybe we can draw the magic out of it that way."
"We'll have to try it," Draco said, nodding. "Otherwise we might be able to study the magic extracted from the bloodstreams of our victims. Have you got a spell that can do that?"
"I'm sure I do," Granger said with a small shrug. "Come on, then."
Hermione scowled as she counted to ten in her head, willing her breathing to slow.
It had been an unproductive afternoon; every spell they had cast in an attempt to draw out the latent magic of the sculpture had done nothing. Malfoy's cursing and huffing had far surpassed irritating, and Hermione was ready to throw him out of her office.
She wondered how they had managed to survive a somewhat amicable afternoon the day before when she had been in the hospital. Despite herself, she was curious as to why he had even bothered.
"Can you move your fucking hat!" he exclaimed, batting the overlarge brim of it out of the way as he bent over one of Hermione's spellbooks.
"I cannot," Hermione grit through her teeth, "I need to wear this."
"If it were me," he sneered, "I'd sooner cut off my own head. But we always knew your fashion sense wasn't strong."
"At least I wear colours other than black!" Hermione exclaimed, clenching her jaw as she lost control of her anger management.
"I also wear grey and white," Malfoy drawled, his finger tracing a line in the book he was reading. "Did you try this one?"
"Yes, we did," Hermione rolled her eyes. "That was the one where literally nothing happened."
"Well you could help me look," he scowled.
"What about the condensed magic from the blood?" Hermione said, pressing her fingers to her temples beneath the brim of the hat as she sank into her chair. "This figure is giving us nothing to work with."
"What are we even supposed to do with it?" Malfoy asked, throwing his hands into the air.
"We need to determine its origins," Hermione growled, nearly tearing a page from her book in her anger. On a sharp intake of breath she soothed the battered page, pressing a crease from the paper. "If we can find where it came from – it has to have had a purpose, right?"
"I don't know," Malfoy snarled. "Maybe it had a purpose four thousand years ago, but it doesn't anymore."
"Well we are getting nowhere!" Hermione huffed. "You might as well go back to the DMLE. If we keep working on this here, one of us will kill the other."
"You aren't getting rid of me from the case, Granger," Malfoy spun on her with an accusatory gesture. "You and Burke need Robards' approval to extract the case from Auror involvement."
"That was not my intention, Malfoy, but now I'm thinking about it," Hermione snapped. "Now leave my office! Get your bleeding tea, or firewhiskey, or Merlin cares what."
"Fuck this," Malfoy exclaimed, throwing his notes into his bag. "Fuck you and the figure and the magic."
"Eloquent, Malfoy," Hermione snipped, shaking her head. She wanted to bury her face in her hands at the oncoming migraine she felt, but didn't trust Malfoy not to hex her if she exposed her back to him.
She scrawled a quick memo to Harry and sent it up to level two while Malfoy packed his things.
Once he was gone, Hermione released several long breaths, forcing herself to calm down. He drew the worst side of her to the surface and Hermione was tired of it.
She would solve this damn case on her own, if that's what it took.
Harry's returning memo was quick and brief, and Hermione exhaled a sigh of relief. An evening at the Leaky with her friends was just what her frazzled nerves needed.
Hermione Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron shortly after eight o'clock that evening, smiling when she saw Harry and Daphne already seated at a long table with Dean and Seamus.
"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked, a wide grin on his face and one arm slung around Daphne's shoulders.
"Alright," Hermione agreed, settling into the open seat beside Daphne. "It has been a tiresome day, to say the least."
"Hermione, that's quite the hat," Daphne said, her face inscrutable as she took in Hermione's extravagant headpiece.
"It's monitoring my brainwaves," Hermione said, wishing she could have left the damn thing at home. She had almost forgotten she was wearing it.
"Still no progress on that case with Malfoy?" Harry asked, his face scrunched up. "That would certainly be exhausting, working with him as much as you have been."
"He changes his mood faster than I can keep track of," Hermione admitted. "But no matter. I don't have to deal with him tonight!"
"He's always been that way," Daphne said with a chuckle.
Hermione smiled as Hannah delivered her usual drink order to the table. "Thank you, Hannah!"
"Of course, Hermione," Hannah replied with a smile. "Anything to eat for you?"
Hermione considered for a moment. She had stayed late at work, trudging through countless spellbooks, none of which turned up anything. As a result, she had failed to eat dinner, and if she intended to have a couple drinks, she would need something to eat.
"Fish and chips, I think, please," Hermione returned.
"An excellent choice," Hannah agreed with a click of her tongue. The girl swept away, nearly running into Neville as he stepped through the Floo, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Neville nodded at the group as he took the seat beside Dean.
Hermione took a long sip of her firewhiskey, feeling the warm liquid flow down her throat and settle in her stomach. She closed her eyes, savouring the first sip, allowing the stress of the day to slough away.
"How have things been in International Cooperation?" Hermione asked, turning to Daphne, who offered a bright smile. The girl was growing on Hermione with her cheerful personality. And Harry was more than a little smitten, if the look in his emerald eyes said anything.
"Oh, just excellent, thanks for asking, Hermione!" Daphne exclaimed. "It's never too early to start planning the logistics of the next Quidditch World Cup, and the British Ministry is always taking strides to improve amnesty with other Wizarding societies."
"It sounds quite interesting," Hermione admitted. "Some days being an Unspeakable is incredibly complicated."
"I imagine so," Daphne sympathized. "Although foreign dignitaries can be a handful as well."
Hermione snickered and nodded. "I would guess so."
As she took another sip of her drink, Daphne's attention was drawn to the door and her face lit up with recognition as she waved to the newcomers.
Hermione followed Daphne's gaze, and nearly choked on her firewhiskey as her stomach leapt into her throat. She wanted to vanish into her seat at the sight of a familiar head of pale blond hair, and she rolled her eyes as she saw Malfoy standing with Nott and Zabini, in conversation as they scouted for an open table.
Hannah slipped around the three former Slytherins to deposit Hermione's meal before her, despite that her appetite had just vanished.
"We've got plenty of room here!" Daphne exclaimed when she caught Nott's eye. Malfoy and Zabini exchanged a glance as Nott sauntered over, dropping into the seat beside Hermione and swiping one of her chips.
Malfoy followed, hands in his pockets as he fixed Hermione with a hard stare, Zabini at his side. They selected the two seats across from Hermione and Nott. She pressed her lips together and met Harry's gaze as she looked away; his eyes were concerned and Hermione offered him a small shrug, forcing a smile.
Zabini offered a tight nod and a smile at the occupants of the table. Seamus, Dean and Neville returned to their conversation and Hermione was left to swat at Nott's hand as he reached for another of her chips.
"How have you been, Daph?" Malfoy asked, his shoulders tense as if he expected a brawl to break out at any moment.
"I've been excellent, Draco!" the chipper blonde exclaimed, "and you?"
"Fine," Malfoy returned, nodding. Hannah delivered their drinks shortly and he took a sip of his ale.
Hermione met Zabini's dark eyes across from her, and he leaned in and muttered something to Malfoy, who snickered.
"Nice hat, Granger," Zabini remarked, raising one dark brow.
"It's fucking ridiculous, is what it is," Nott responded, poking at the wide brim.
"You bloody gave it to me!" Hermione exclaimed, glaring at Nott beside her. "And you know better than anyone why I have to wear it."
Malfoy laughed, the corners of his mouth tugging into a grin. "It really is terrible, but Granger's already been given enough shite over the hat today."
Hermione blinked at him. He gave her a sort of half-hearted shrug in return, his eyes rolling back in a self-deprecating way. The man was hot and cold like the weather, she was certain.
"The best part," Nott said, stealing Hermione's fork and shearing off a piece of her fish, "is that Healer Randall was going to give you something unobtrusive and natural. I convinced her you were the ostentatious type."
"Nott!" Hermione fumed, snatching her fork back out of his hand. Across the table, Zabini and Malfoy broke into a fit of laughter and Hermione huffed, turning to Daphne and Harry instead.
But the couple were wrapped up in one another, talking in low voices, and Hermione shook her head, wishing she had stayed home after all.
"Also," Nott said, and Hermione smacked his hand as he made to steal another of her chips, "Randall said this afternoon you don't need to wear it anymore. The magic has levelled off; your brainwaves are no longer shifting under the influence of the spell."
"And no one thought to tell me?" Hermione asked, her teeth ground together.
"I'm telling you now," Nott said with a shrug.
Zabini laughed again, shaking his head. Hermione wrenched the hat from her head, fixing the wild curls beneath it. Zabini said, "Nott, get your own fucking meal, yeah?"
Hermione stared at him, her eyes narrowing on instinct. She couldn't tell if they were being deliberately antagonistic or not. She already knew Nott's sanity was questionable, but Zabini was a wild card, given she hadn't seen him since sixth year.
But Zabini took a long swig of his drink, turning to Malfoy. "I hear the two of you are working on a case together. That's fun to witness, I'm sure."
Malfoy's lip curled as he stared at Zabini. "Not much to witness. So far it's been a whole lot of nothing."
Hermione bit her tongue, willing Malfoy to keep to Department of Mysteries protocol. Despite not being an Unspeakable, saying anything with regards to the experiments they had worked on was strictly forbidden, especially to people without the proper Ministry clearance.
She didn't even know what Zabini did for a living.
But it seemed Malfoy wasn't going to continue the train of thought, and he met her gaze with a raised brow.
"Books and spells and that," Hermione said, holding his gaze. She turned to Zabini. "Nothing too interesting, I assure you."
"Aside from the two dead victims," Harry threw in, waving his pint, and Hermione groaned. Zabini's head shot up, his eyes widening.
"Right," Malfoy clipped. "But of course, as Potter should know, this is all confidential below a certain level of clearance."
Harry waved a hand, and he and Seamus chuckled. "Everyone in the DMLE knows what you two are up to."
Hermione very much doubted it, as they were only privy to the Aurors' side of things. They may have seen the two victims, and Malfoy's investigation into the details and meeting with Moreau's sons – but they had no clue about the origins of the figure or the strange magic trapped dormant within it.
But it was Malfoy who said it. "You don't know the half of it, Potter. And since Granger and I value our positions at the Ministry, neither of us are going to be saying any more about it."
Hermione stared at him again, feeling something akin to gratitude flit through her. She gave him a tight smile, which he returned with a nod.
In her peripheral vision, Hermione caught sight of Nott leaning an elbow on the table, his head resting in his palm as he observed the exchange.
The door to the pub opened again and Ron walked through with Susan Bones. Hermione swallowed, taking a quick sip of her firewhiskey. She had heard the two of them were together, but seeing it was another thing.
She had been over Ron since eighth year – but that didn't mean it wasn't uncomfortable seeing him with someone else.
She tore her gaze away from the pair of them as they joined the group. Hermione offered Susan a tight-lipped smile, and when she glanced away she noticed Malfoy watching her, his expression hard, the skin around his eyes drawn.
She was reminded of Malfoy's words the time Ron had been at the Ministry.
Tell Weasley to fucking kick rocks.
Hermione held her chin a little higher as she turned to face Zabini and Malfoy again, and she would have sworn she saw the slightest twitch of approval on Malfoy's lips.
When Hermione dragged herself into the Department of Mysteries the following morning, a memo was already waiting for her, hovering outside of her office. The missive followed her inside once she released the wards, knocking against the doorframe.
Granger
I'll be staying in the DMLE today. Let me know if you find anything.
D.M.
Hermione sighed, settling down at her desk, her gaze skirting across the stack of books that had yielded them no answers the day before, and wondered what she could possibly find today that would be any more useful.
She hadn't exactly gotten along with Malfoy the night before at the Leaky, but they had been tolerant of one another – it was a scene Hermione had never imagined, a group of former Gryffindors and Slytherins all sitting together.
Usually he would have a reason if he opted to work on his own in the DMLE for the day. Perhaps he too suspected they would end up like they had the day before, at each other's throats, and had simply chosen to stay away.
Hermione flipped through books until lunch, her eyes glazed as she stared at familiar historical data and irrelevant information about ancient cultural magic.
Nothing was adding up – and she was at a loss as to where to go next.
Her shoulders slumped as she dropped her head into her arms on her desk, blowing a stray piece of hair out of her face. She couldn't remember feeling so lost since she had attempted to arrange the first – and most ambitious – draft of her NEWT study schedule.
She debated checking in with Malfoy but he had made it clear they wouldn't be working together that day, for whatever reason.
Rising from her desk, Hermione made her way to Burke's office, tapping lightly against the door.
"Granger," Burke said as he opened the door, his brow furrowed. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes," she hedged, rubbing the back of her neck, "but we seem to have reached a dead-end with regards to the magic extracted from the two victims' bloodstreams. And none of my research is turning up anything, and –" she cut herself off, shaking her head. "I was wondering if you had any methodology suggestions."
Burke scratched the stubble on his jaw as he set aside some paperwork. "Take a seat."
Hermione slipped into the chair across from him, her mind abuzz.
Burke's eyes narrowed slightly as he said, "You're highly intellectual, Granger. I was incredibly book smart coming out of Hogwarts, much like yourself." He held up a hand before Hermione could respond. "It took me some time to learn that things in the Department of Mysteries exist on a spectrum that books cannot follow. Things here are not so black and white."
"I'm aware of that, sir," Hermione tried, feeling colour rising in her cheeks.
"This isn't a criticism," Burke said, his voice soft. "I would encourage you to look through everything you have already learned about the situation. What doesn't line up? Where are there holes that don't make sense? Perhaps you and Auror Malfoy need to take a closer look at what you might have missed. Sometimes the answers we seek are evident and clear within our grasp, only they are not delivered in such a tidy package as we would hope."
Hermione blinked. She hadn't expected such a cryptic answer, but maybe what Burke said contained merit.
She had been through so much information that it was all starting to blur together – maybe she needed to take a step back. Perhaps she would hop up to the Auror's office and check in with Malfoy. What could it hurt?
"Auror Malfoy is working in the DMLE today but maybe I will venture to level two," Hermione nodded. "Thank you for your help, sir."
"It may be that you haven't found your answers yet," Burke said, with a tilt to his head. "But I reckon something in your stacks of research might give you a new lead."
Hermione offered Burke a tight smile and he returned to his paperwork before she had closed the door. Frowning, she made her way to the lifts, bracing herself for whatever type of mood Malfoy might be in that day.
His mood, as she learned shortly thereafter, was frazzled. His hair was disheveled, his tie slightly skewed to one side.
"Granger," Malfoy said, blinking as she fell into step with him as he crossed the department from Robards' office to his desk. "What are you doing here?"
"I think we need to talk through some of the research we've been doing, to see if there's something we've missed," she said, glancing at him to gauge his reaction. "We've got stacks upon stacks – there's a chance we've overlooked something important, don't you think?"
"Fine," he said, running a hand through his hair as he reached his desk, shifting through a stack of papers. "Unfortunately, Granger, today isn't the best. I sent you that memo because we had not one, but two Aurors owl in sick this morning. Robards has been throwing me around like an messenger pigeon trying to keep up with the missed workload."
"Oh," Hermione said, pressing her lips together. "Of course, I knew you were busy –"
"Tomorrow morning?" he asked, his eyes wide as he glanced at her. "I'll come by first thing, and we can go through it all, piece by piece if we have to." He grimaced as he settled into his chair. "I want to figure this out as much as you do, but with these Aurors out sick, it's administrative bollocks for the day."
"Right," Hermione nodded, "tomorrow morning is great."
He gave her a tight smile, and Hermione was taken aback at the utter lack of animosity. He was nearly impossible to read. "See you then."
With a quick wave to Harry across the room, who also looked out of sorts, Hermione returned to level nine.