A/N: Since it's right around all those lovely winter Holidays, if you want a funny untraditional-Christmas song, I suggest "Don't Shoot Me Santa" by The Killers. It was actually done for Project RED in '07 and some proceeds went to charity. The video was directed by Matthew Gray Gubler who plays Spencer Reid on "Criminal Minds". I dig his work and how he views the media of film but that's a different story.

Anywho…

In order to write this chapter, I did a complete run through of what I have so far. I have a few concerns… 1. Hermione's voice which has become less proper with the latter chapters. 2. I must spend more time on her adventures at the Ministry and unraveling the mystery that is Jonathan Rowe. I would love any feedback on any of the aforementioned concerns and anything else you'd like to throw out there. As always, I do not own. Feedback would be as amazing as signed copy of Joseph Heller's "Catch-22". Thanks!

-Jeline.

Chapter 11: Another Word for Empathy

Waking up the following morning, I found myself angry and confused. Not only did I have to endure that fiasco last night but due to the shower I had to take to calm my nerves—I was now left with insanely unruly hair during the daylight hours. Trying to tame that mess nearly made me late for work. I dodged Malfoy by skipping breakfast altogether and leaving the house. Once at a safe enough distance, I was able to perform a simple teleportation spell I had learned years ago.

Minerva was waiting for me in my office, giving me a quick run through of yesterday's events. It seems that she separated both Chang and Kraja to split my cases in half and each tend to them—without much formal training from my part I was afraid to see how much more work I would have for myself.

It turns out that each of my assistants was able to rise up to the occasion and deal with their particular cases. Kieran, for example was sent to Oxford where a pair of elves were up to no good, harassing the university students. He was able to defuse the situation quite nicely, offering to buy the pair a round of butter beer if they composed their behavior. He confessed to Minerva that he reasoned that they had been bored and were in need of amusement or attention and were actually quite harmless.

Cho, on the other hand was sent to Heathrow Airport where a group of sea monkeys had decided that they would create a new habitat out of many of the terminal toilets. She attempted to reason with them and finally found a great compromise. She created their own mini-pond on the outskirts of a remote town just west from where she grew up, knowing they would have peace and privacy. It was a brilliant approach, I must confess.

I was undeniably impressed with their tactics and levels of diplomacy. Granted, these were not generally tactics I employed when I had to deal with these particular cases but these were relatively easy. Calling them both into my office, I decided to give them a crash course in their jobs, of what it entailed and the types of situations they could potentially see themselves in. I tried to prepare them for situations they may see themselves in repeatedly. (We do get the same cases over periods of time, often enough.) After about fifteen minutes into my monologue, Kieran asked a particularly interesting question:

"Ms. Granger, have you ever come across a situation that was extremely dangerous and required immediate action from the Ministry?"

I thought for a moment before I spoke, choosing my words carefully. "To be honest with you Kieran, I have been in some particularly dangerous situations before. Yet, I would like to think that my training and past experiences have taught me how to control such a situation. What it really comes down to, I think, is learning to trust your instincts."

I did not need to tell them of a particular experience that put me in quite a perilous situation and was the cause of a still visible scar on my forearm. It had come to the point where people were just too polite to ask about it, or they had probably heard a rumor. Either one of these scenarios though was probably very far from the truth of how it came to be both a mark and a scar that I will probably carry with me forever. Shaking off the vivid memory, I gave them both a winning smile and continued on with my ramblings.

We had quite an interesting case to tend to. We received an owl about a possible leviathan gone astray from its group who was causing chaos along the English Channel. The particularly interesting part about it was that many witnesses claimed that it looked eerily like Voldermort's own pet. After calming down the crowd with the help of both of my assistants we were able to asses the situation. I actually had to call Harry to use his services since he was still quite fluent in parseltongue although he thought he had lost it when Voldemort was defeated.

Cho's demeanor had changed significantly with his arrival. I swear on Merlin, I saw her flip her hair and stifle a giggle when he came to stand beside her. He was only asking me about the situation. The few times she had run into him since Hogwarts she still seemed to have fancied my best friend. I caught her eyeing him as he and I spoke a few yards away from her and Kieran. Harry was either too dense to notice or just did not care…I wasn't sure which it was at this particular point.

Upon arriving back at the Ministry, I let my assistants handle the paperwork. Harry's team was on a small hiatus for the time being so he offered to take me out to lunch. I think the fact that he had not invited my assistants deflated Cho's ego quite a bit but Harry offered to bring them something from our destination which they politely declined. I knew my best friend strategically did this because he wanted to inquire about the Malfoy and Granger dinner fiasco.

We settled on a quaint Japanese restaurant that he had wanted to try. I noticed him eyeing me curiously. I knew Harry; he was quite perceptive when he wanted to be. I gather this was one of those times. He did not even give me time to even taste my miso soup when the interrogation began: "Well, do I have to put a truth hex on you or will you tell me on your own?"

"I don't think I even know what you're referring to," I said, trying to get some food in me before he started his spitfire round of questioning.

"Don't play coy with me Hermione; you know it doesn't work on me."

Looking round to see our surroundings I realized that I now had to be careful. Anyone could overhear our conversation and relay it back to the Daily Prophet. My fake engagement would be known to the world. Remembering the one thing I always carried in my purse in case any such important conversations should take place, I placed the pink quartz in the middle of the table. Whispering the incantation, there was a faint glow and I knew the perimeter around our table was sound proof.

Harry raised an eyebrow but did not question me. I knew that expression, he was seriously wondering how much of Malfoy's obsessive distrusting qualities had rubbed off on me. I gave him a warm smile and he rolled his eyes at me. I decided it would be best if I started off indifferent because I was indifferent about the whole mess, wasn't I?

"It was an interesting experience. The git bought me a new dress for the damn thing. It was hard for him to win over my parents at first…especially my father but he actually didn't do that bad…for a Malfoy." I said, trying to stay away from the messy details from the night before.

"You're hiding something," He mused.

"It's nothing; I can't wait until this whole mess is over, really. Now that I have two assistants I can work on uncovering all the dirt on Jonathan. The faster the insanity is done with, the faster I can go back to my life before Draco and Jonathan."

"You called him by his first name. Something's changed… hasn't it?"

Damn his amazing observational skills! "It's not important." I croaked.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"Not now… maybe later." I reasoned with both him and myself.

Another twenty minutes into our meal and I got Harry to talk about his life. I felt sorry for having my life take the forefront of the conversations these days. He told me about the girl he has been seeing for the past several weeks, Julie Logan. He was explaining to me how they had first met a few years ago on one of his first assignments in Sussex as an auror and how much he really fancied her. I squeezed his hand, an encouraging gesture for him to tell me more when we were rudely interrupted. The pink quartz in the middle of the table crumbled into pulverized dust before our eyes. I looked up meeting a set of angry steel gray eyes.

Yes, there was Draco… in a furry no less, hovering over our table. My hand was still over Harry's and I realized to an outsider this would look very bad. There was nothing for me to feel guilty about…This was one of my best friends since first year. He was like a brother to me. Malfoy and I were not in any sort of relationship aside from our 'partnership' to bring down Jonathan. This whole mess is not conducive to my already slipping sanity.

Looking at Harry, I could see his mind racing and he had deduced (very well, I might add) what was going on and what might happen. He calmly stood up and pulled my hand slightly to do the same. Protectively placing himself in front of me, he said the following:

"I don't give a damn how you're feeling right now, Malfoy. And I really don't give a damn about what you may or may not do to Rowe once this is over but this is one of my best friends. I know that she can hold her own but I will do everything in my power to make sure no harm comes to her. It is in your best interest to calm down before I have to take you down by force." He said in an eerily even tone.

Draco took a deep breath and turned his heel, walking out of the restaurant. I had to blink a few times before fully registering what had happened. I was prepared for many things… I was used to their testosterone driven thoughts so naturally, I assumed there was to be a wizarding duel, a fist fight, a broom race—something! This, I was no where near ready for.

"How did you do that?" I asked astounded.

"I can be intimidating, I suppose." He said sitting back down to finish our meal.

"Yes, but it's Malfoy we're talking about. He never backs down, never."

"Maybe he's grown up a bit since we left Hogwarts," Harry said nonchalantly while he asked for the check.

"What—why? What do you know?" I asked, flabbergasted.

"Nothing, Hermione... Come on, we should get you back to work." He said ushering me out the door.

Harry was acting uncharacteristically odd. We got back to the Ministry and he insisted upon coming back with me and 'hanging out for a bit' with me in my office as I got some work done. At least I could rest in knowing that he didn't fancy Cho back but was rather interested in his new romance with Julie. Walking into my office, I realized there was a freshly brewed cup of coffee on my desk. I wasn't sure which of my two assistants had resorted to try playing teacher's pet. As I about to grab it, Harry pulled out his wand and the cup flew off the desk, hitting the wall and then into my nearby trashcan. I looked at him angrily. There was never a good reason to discard a perfectly good cup of coffee!

"What did you do that for?"

He motioned for me to come over and look at the contents in my trashcan. From the impact of the contents of it, you could see a gooey green liquid that was at the bottom of the already broken mug of coffee. Needless to say, the shock on my face was evidently clear.

"How did you know? More importantly, what is it and what the hell was it doing in my coffee?"

"Haluco-wax, I've seen this stuff used on some very powerful wizards. Permanently sends you to St. Mungo's. People hallucinate all kinds of crazy things, comes to the point where their hallucinations drive them so mad they die from heart attacks."

"Why the hell would someone want to send me to St. Mungo's and/or eventually kill me?"

"I'd say someone's upset about your recent engagement," he said darkly.

"Well that seems to be quite obvious."

"I think it's safe to say I'm staying with you for the rest of the day." Harry said sitting on a small sofa I had at the opposite side of my desk.

Suddenly, a dark thought crossed my mind… No, it wasn't possible. He wasn't capable of it? Was he? My face blanched, I looked at my best friend and involuntarily squeaked. His unbelievably calm demeanor was not helping my current situation.

"Calm down, Malfoy is not responsible for this. He may be many things but a murder he is not. Sit down, I'll be back—I'll go get the Minster."

Deciding that wasting time was not something Hermione Granger invested in, I dove into the closest file on my desk. This was not working at all because I believe I had reread the same paragraph at least four times by the time Harry and Minerva had returned. She rushed to hug me, and then went to examine the contents inside my trashcan. She and Harry were completely silent but just gave each other knowing looks.

For once—okay, not necessarily once, I felt completely out of the loop and it both frustrated and terrified me. What were they keeping from me? Before I could start the all knowing list of reasons I should be informed at once of what the hell was going on, Minerva raised her wand and said a spell—oddly enough it was all in Greek. Latin, I understood like conversational Spanish…as for Greek, my skills were lacking.

Apparently my analytical mind was much too busy with the linguistics of her particular spell and I didn't realize that we were now in Malfoy's study/library. Ah, it must have been an ancient transportation spell. She must have used it to avoid detection; I sensed she must have learned it from Dumbledore. I always secretly believed they were each other's (I would think) platonic soul mate.

I was now resting in an emerald armchair beside Minerva while Harry paced around the room pensively. Fredrick showed up at the door and handed us all some tea and informed us that Malfoy was on his way. I couldn't help but eye the tea suspiciously but then drank it once Harry gave me an approving nod.

I was trying to work this all out in my head. Jonathan Rowe, my ex-fiancé was a criminal—that I had come to accept. I was now the fake-fiancé of one of my enemies at Hogwarts… I was now mildly attracted to said fiancé; only physically I'd hope—not completely accepted but almost there. Someone was either trying to have me committed or slowly kill me—not accepted in the slightest. Alright Hermione, think rationally…

Only four individuals outside of said parties involved in fake engagement that were at least somewhat in the loop: Harry, Ron, Minerva and obviously Fredrick. This left us a slew of individuals including Jonathan Rowe as possible suspects responsible for the coffee Haluci-hex fiasco a few minutes ago. I must also include my two seemingly hard working assistants…any crazy ex-boyfriends, possibly Draco's exes from his own (disgusting, I imagine) escapades. I must also factor in any ex-school mates at Hogwarts or anyone in the Ministry who had access to my office. Any individuals involved in any ex-cases of mine… In other words, anyone in the wizarding world who I may or may not have had any contact with in my lifetime. This was giving me a headache of epic proportions.

The door swung open loudly and Malfoy walked in fuming. Swearing in French, he looked over to Harry and Minerva. I knew Harry had picked up several languages over the years as an Auror, he was rather skilled linguistically and so was Minerva. They all spoke rapidly to each other and I could only catch bits and pieces of it, especially when my name was constantly being thrown around. I think the next project I should pick up is learning another language…

Only I would think about something like this at a time where my life is perhaps in some kind of peril. Whatever keeps me relatively sane, I suppose. I stopped looking at the spot on the wall where I had thrown my empty glass of wine only a few days before. Was it only a few days ago that my life had significantly changed from entirely dull to something from a plot off a television series?

Now eyeing Malfoy curiously, I read his body language since it was all I could study for now. His eyes were the color of titanium… angry, cold but there was some underlying worry in them. There were bags under his eyes that I had not noticed during his little tirade at the restaurant earlier. His posture was stiff and his shoulders hunched over slightly, as if almost a protective crouch. His words were directed at Harry who was still under that same calm demeanor that still irked me. Minerva was the levelheaded one who had a crease of worry on her forehead, and noticeable frown but would interject between the two men. Finally, she had enough and stood up glaring at them both.

"Gentlemen, stop pointing fingers at one another—at least, she is safe thanks to the both of you." She said loudly.

Both men backed away from each other. Harry came to sit atop the arm of my armchair while Draco rested on the edge of his desk.

"The question is what do we do now?" Harry asked, for the first time I saw a little fear cross his face.

"Mr. Potter—I suggest you go find Mr. Weasley. He also must be informed of the situation." Minerva said diplomatically. He did as he was as instructed and left the room.

Minerva spoke again, "I think it best that I go back to the Ministry. They will think it strange if I am gone for too long and we must have everyone believing that there is no alarm or cause for worry." She said standing up to go.

"Don't worry dear," She said cupping my chin motherly, "You are in the best care and we will make sure that whoever was responsible will deal with the consequences."

With that she walked out of the room as well, leaving me alone with Draco. I knew that letting my anger get the best of me would not rectify the situation, so I tried a different approach in order to obtain some sort of information.

"Please, just tell me what's going on. I can rationalize and accept whatever information is given to me but it is much worse to not know and suspect so many horrible things," I said softly.

"It's better that you don't know." He said looking at the same dent in the wall from my glass-throwing fit a few nights earlier.

"What do the three of you know that I don't? Why was Harry so calm? How did he know? Why did he make you leave the restaurant earlier? What are the two of you hiding from me? …You want me to trust you Draco, at least for the sake of our partnership—well, earn it won't you?"

He flinched slightly when I used his first name. I had hit a nerve in his psyche, I wasn't sure exactly what it was but at least I had gotten his attention.

I blinked and there he was kneeling beside me, his nose practically touching the tip of mine. I didn't have time to react because as soon as I exhaled his lips crashed into mine. There was a fervor to him that was different from all the other times he had kissed me. I could not identify it.

I then realized something… He was trying to distract me physically in order to cloud my mind and my thought process. It would not work. Deciding to use his own tactic against him, I moaned and broke the kiss to nip his ear. The initial shock was evident because I felt him shiver. What I had not anticipated was my own hazy mind as he shoved one hand in my hair and another one making lazy circles on an exposed part of my lower back as he pulled my body closer to his. This was not working…think of puppies, Ron in a bunny suit—Voldemort…

"Stop," I said shoving him aside gently. "Tell me," I ordered.

"Tell her," Harry said walking into the study with Ron beside him. Ron's face went from shock, anger, worry and downright nausea. Harry's was both empathetic but determined and evidently not surprised by the display he had just witnessed.

"I suppose I should start at the beginning…" Draco said.