A/N: The content in this chapter (as well as the next few) will be a little different from the others. I thought it would be fun to finally give Hermione some action-y Auror stuff, since, y'know, she's an Auror lol.

"New York?" he asked, his face floating in the fireplace, shaped by flames and tiny embers, as they flickered from the burning logs.

It was difficult to discern facial expression, using head-only transport via the Floo Network, but that didn't stop me from sensing the apprehension in his voice. There was little we kept from one another — close to nothing, actually — and against my better judgment, I decided to keep my scheduled visit to New York under need to know basis. Technically, I wasn't permitted the right to discuss assignments and things with people outside the department. It was against the rules.

But there was a small part of me that withheld this information, knowing it would rub my boyfriend the wrong way.

Bless him for doing his best to hide it.

"I'll be gone for one night — tops," I explained to him. "No more than that."

For a couple seconds there, he didn't respond, causing the nerves in my stomach to toss and turn. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was doing my job. There was no reason in the world for me to feel nervous about anything, particularly where Nott was concerned. But there I was, sweating it out.

"Upstate or…?"

"Brooklyn," I answered.

He nodded, absorbing the information. "Well, if your schedule permits it, squeeze in some sight seeing whilst you're out there. New York is an interesting place."

I arched an eyebrow. "That's all?"

"What did you think I would say?" he asked, with a hint of amusement in his voice. " — to stay away from New York, as Draco is there, and that I don't trust you two near each other?"

"Er —"

" — because that's not true," he interjected. "I trust you, Granger."

I smiled, relieved and happy and without a doubt, more in love with him than I had ever been. "When can I see you?"

Around that time, was the time his mood changed.

It wasn't easy to detect, but I sensed a fall in his expression.

If there were one question to set the entire conversation downhill, it was that one. You see, during the first few months of his new job, our relationship did well and I saw him a few times a week — at least. But the more months that passed, the more this changed and the less we saw of one another.

By this time, we were teetering close to an entire month with only letters and head-only transport via Floo Network. It wasn't ideal, but it was the best we could do. I knew his students needed him and of course, the Auror Office needed me. I wanted nothing more than to put my duties on hold and visit him again, and perhaps Shen, Sinead, Corvus and the other students, but I couldn't.

I had to focus.

So did he.

"I'll see you as soon as I can," he told me, with a touch of remorse. "I'd be home every night, if I could. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," was all I could say.

He put on a smile for me. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

Prepared to end the conversation and absorb myself in paperwork for the mission at hand, I cleared my throat, thinking only of New York and the possibilities ahead. To my understanding, it was a solo mission, which meant I had no time to sight-see or run into Draco, as he lived in the Upper East Side of Manhattan, whereas I had to remain in Brooklyn for the duration of my visit. Same city. Different boroughs. Different vibes.

Still.

I hadn't seen him since Whistler — about ten months.

"What's on your mind?" my boyfriend asked, snapping me out of my dazed state.

I flicked my eyes at the fireplace, having forgotten he was there. "Just nervous about the mission. It's my first solo mission out of the continent."

"Maybe Harry should go with you," he suggested.

I thought about it, before shaking my head. "He should be here, in England, with James and Ginny."

Nott paused, as though he'd forgotten about their newborn child. It didn't surprise me, as he had never seen James and had only seen Ginny a couple times during her pregnancy. Early in her second trimester, if I remembered correctly. Both she and Daphne tried their best to arrange a group dinner over the holidays (about a month ago) but we were all in different parts of the world. Times had changed in the space of one year. Ginny and Harry were at the Burrow; Daphne and Ron were in Russia, visiting her distant cousins; Draco was in Manhattan; Astoria was on a road trip, along the west coast of America, with some of her Muggle friends; leaving myself and Nott in Switzerland, with my parents.

It was interesting, introducing them for the first time.

Before then, I had never experienced a 'meet the parents' type situation, as Ronald had already known my parents, from when we were school children. But with Nott, things were different. Clean slate. Minimal information. Nothing more than his name and his profession. They were skeptical of him, at first, learning he'd been sorted into Slytherin and was of pureblood upbringing, but within seconds of that initial conversation, their notions of him were swept aside.

My mother, Dr. Penelope Ann Granger, simply adored him — and I could tell, just from the glint in her eyes, that she heard wedding bells in the not too distant future.

Ah, mothers.

My father, Dr. Rowan Granger, remained quiet, for the most part, but eventually warmed up to my boyfriend, as the latter showed surprising knowledge of dentistry and football — Rowan's most favourite subjects.

"I've been meaning to ask," Nott suddenly said, breaking my concentration. "How are Ron and Daphne doing? I haven't heard anything about them since — "

" — since he bought the ring?" I finished, an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach as I thought about their situation. "To my knowledge, he planned on proposing over her birthday, about five months ago, but didn't."

"D'you think he's second guessing it?"

I shrugged. "If all goes well, he'll put a ring on it within the next few months. Daph is a decent woman and doesn't deserve to be strung along. It's been seven years for Merlin's sake."

Nott paused a moment, and put words to the question that had been plaguing us for months now. "What about us?"

"What about us?" I furthered, listening to the words echo within my subconscious.

"D'you — D'you feel strung along?" he asked.

I blinked. "No. Not at all."

"I'm asking because we're both in our mid-twenties, which isn't old, by any means, but I don't want you to feel as though I'm holding you back or that —"

"Nott?" I interjected.

He paused. "Yes?"

"Maybe we should save this discussion for the next time we see each other."

"Right, right, of course —" he nodded, putting on another smile. "Well, I should get back to grading these essays. Talk to you tomorrow?"

Something tugged at my chest muscles. "I'll be in New York tomorrow."

"Oh — right."

From there, things fizzled out, leaving us stranded in an undeniably awkward place — one I'd feared since receiving news of the mission.

One Day Later

It was a cold night in New York.

I'd never been to the east of the United States, prior to that moment. It was a dream of mine to live there at some point, in a high rise, overlooking the metropolis, with the gentle, yet binding ambiance humming in the background. But the fantasy had come to crashing halt, the moment I decided to join the Auror Office. I could have been an Auror anywhere, sure, but the idea of abandoning my friends, when they needed me, was more than I could bear. That in mind, I forgot about my dreams and found myself drowning in a life that was beginning to feel foreign to me.

Being with Nott was the only thing that kept me sane, but even that had taken an unexpected turn. I heard our earlier conversation echo in the back of my mind, doing my best to ignore it as the American Auror that met me at the drop-zone led me to our destination.

It was a large building, in the middle of Brooklyn, invisible to Muggles and as I soon discovered, unplottable. From the outside, it appeared to be an abandoned warehouse, but it was, in fact, the Eastern Division of the MCUSA (Magical Congress of the United States of America).

I entered, alongside the reserved and stoic Auror Hernandez, and followed him to the Auror Office. It was different from the British Ministry of Magic, as there were no golden fountains or marble flooring. It appeared our American brothers and sisters took the no-bullshit route and opted for bare necessities, where their government was concerned.

It was dimly lit and quiet, reminding me of an underground hideout, and the deeper Auror Hernandez took me, through the darkened, torch-lit corridors, the sooner I wished to return home.

About ten minutes in, we had seen no one.

There were only corridors and doors and more corridors. The walls and floors were made of stone, with the odd marking or number to indicate what lay beyond. Auror Hernandez slowed his pace, once he realized a feeling of immense discomfort had settled within me.

"You good?" he asked, holding his wand out to light the rest of the way.

I nodded. "Just a little jittery from the Port Key."

His look was one of skepticism, but he didn't press me further. I studied him and his mannerisms, using that as a tool to distract myself. He looked to be in his late-twenties and had more than a few scars along his face and neck that told me he had been working this job for a long, long time. His hair was dark brown and his skin, caramel, clear apart from his scarring. There were no dark circles or bags under his eyes, nor wrinkles in his clothes, proving he was a routine, punctual man who lived life by the books. His uniform consisted of a long black robe with a small emblem in the corner that denoted his division and ranking — Senior Auror, like myself — along with several columns of silver stars to mark every heroic deed he had done to protect his country and its civilians.

"Jones is waiting for you inside," he told me, pausing in front a door located at the end of the fifth floor corridor. "I'll be here when you're done."

I paused, giving him a look of thanks, before moving forth.

Ten Minutes Later

In the office, there were shelves that lined the walls from ceiling to floor, filled to the brim with various titles — old and new — and carried with them, the smell of parchment and ink. I sat in the chair across from the desk, watching as Auror Jones poured two cups of coffee. Judging from the ring stains on his desk, I figured this was something of a routine for him, but I was in no position to ask. I merely bowed my head in gratitude, as he handed me the cleaner of the cups.

From there, he leaned against the ledge of his desk, dressed in a dark blue button down with the sleeves rolled up and a black tie loose around his neck, along with a pair of black trousers. I could see that his robe was hung on the coat rack near the door, as though he rarely, if ever, wore it. Perhaps he found the garment a nuisance or uncomfortable. Perhaps he simply wished to conceal his accomplishments from his enemies, as to surprise them on the battlefield.

In that moment, I couldn't help but wonder if that's how he viewed me.

I forced my lips into a smile as his eyes found mine, noticing the flecks of grey in his light brown hair. Unlike Hernandez, it appeared Jones did not live by the books, and the narrow look he gave me supported this argument.

"So, you're here to fetch the slaver?" he began, scanning me. "Save it to the Brits to send a kid."

I arched an eyebrow.

To this, he snickered. "Relax. I'm jokin' around."

"Hermione Granger," I voiced, rising from the chair with a sense of purpose and holding my hand out to him, waiting until he reluctantly shook it. "Senior Auror at the British Ministry of Magic, trusted member of the Order of the Phoenix, survivor of the Battle of Hogwarts and founder of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

Jones mirrored the arch in my brow, and gave my hand a good, firm shake. "I know who you are and what you've done, but that doesn't make you any less of a kid," he told me. "Now, should we move on to business or do you have anything else you'd like to say?"

I held his gaze. "Hand me the slaver and I'll be on my way."

"Hand you the slaver?" he asked, laughing. "I didn't agree to handing you anyone, kid."

I opened my mouth to retort, before glancing at the parchment that he slid in my direction. It was a quick read, one that left me with an uncomfortable knot in my stomach. "There must be a mistake," I vocalized. "I was told the slaver would be in your custody, ready for pick-up. My superior said so."

Jones shrugged. "Maybe your superior needs to gets his facts checked."

I tossed him a narrow look. "Harry was obviously misinformed by your Office."

"I don't have time to talk semantics," he then said. "Written on that parchment, you'll find the name and location of your slaver. That's the best I can do for you."

"If I'd known I would be hunting down the slaver on unfamiliar ground, I wouldn't have come to New York alone."

"Fine, you want help? Take Hernandez."

"But —"

"Ay!" Jones called out, waiting until Auror Hernandez opened the door, closing it and then standing there with his arms folded behind him, militaristic and ready for order. "Granger here needs help. You're familiar with the Upper East Side, yeah?"

Hernandez nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Get this broad out of my hair, catch the criminal and send both their asses back to England. Understood?"

"Loud and clear, sir."

I stared between them, alarmed at how Jones was speaking to him and thinking about how nothing like that would ever have happened at home. In all the back and forth, one thing managed to echo loudest. Upper East Side. I glanced at the parchment Jones had laid out for me and found the name and location of the slaver.

Jonathan Young.

Last seen in Manhattan.

A rich, trust-fund brat who blew away his wealth before his nineteenth birthday and from there, decided it would be a good idea to get into house elf slave trade to support his frivolous lifestyle.

"The bastard is at some fancy, highbrow, black tie gala in the Upper East Side. It's a Muggle event. Go low key, or we'll end up with another violation against the Statute of Secrecy," Jones advised. "That means dress up."

Although I wasn't happy taking orders from a man like him, he had a point. There was no choice. Both myself and Hernandez had to take the clean approach: detain him as fast and as painlessly as possible. Simple enough. I had done numerous undercover missions, but there was one problem with this one, other than the fact that I had to work with a stranger.

I hadn't a change of clothes, and the ones one my back were entirely inappropriate for a black tie affair. Something told me Hernandez was in a similar predicament, leaving us with one option. I moved past the men and dipped Jones' quill into a pot of ink, before scrawling something onto a scrap of parchment.

Draco, I need your help…

A/N: Thoughts? Don't worry, this won't be too much of a departure. Also, there is an actor/model list for this story, posted on my blog. Link in my bio. Check frequently, as I'll add new actors/models as the story progresses.

Cheers

xo.