Huge thanks to my Alpha/Betas NuclearNik and Monica03, without them I would be a mess and this story would be a disaster. Also a huge thanks to my Omegas (pre-readers) MarshmallowMcGonagall, QuinTalon, and Weestarmeggie!

To everyone who reads, subscribes, bookmarks, comments/reviews, follows, reblogs, likes, etc: I appreciate you all SO VERY MUCH. With the length of my chapters and the editing process, it leaves little time to come back and interact (I'll still try, however!). I promise though, all of it makes me go starry eyed and flail about every single time.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.


Hermione arrived at the end of the hallway to their office door bright and early despite having slept so poorly. It'd been a week since she'd stayed with Draco after falling asleep in the library, and she had yet to sleep as well as she did at his house. She'd used some charms to cover up the dark circles before departing home but she wagered that Draco would be able to tell based on how she behaved rather than how she looked. During the last several months he'd come to know her quite well and despite the way he often wore a mask, she'd learned a great deal more about him than she ever thought she would.

She went through the door and froze after closing it behind her, nearly dropping her bag. Draco had laid out a large array of items on his table adjacent to their wall of evidence. It was filled with bowls of different types, herbs, bones, and other things that could only mean divination was soon to be at hand.

Walking over to her desk and setting her things down, she put away their new tea supplies. Afterward, she couldn't help but examine his supplies more closely, and it was all she could do not to crinkle her nose in distaste.

"Draco…" she started, still eying the supplies from her seat.

He turned his head far enough for her to see him hitch a brow.

"What exactly is all of that for?" A mix of trepidation and disapproval she couldn't repress colored her tone.

"Can you not guess?" He was far too amused, in her opinion.

It was too early for this bullshit.

Her lips thinned as she watched him fill a rune-covered bowl half-full with water from an ancient pitcher. He sighed when she didn't answer.

"What else should we do, Hermione?" he said, measuring out different herbs into bowls. "We've hit a dead end, and it's not like either of us to sit and twiddle our thumbs. Divination is strong within the Black line. Seeing things within the Pyromancy realm have always yielded moderate success if you're not looking for an all-out vision. There are things on Father's side that should help as well."

She had nothing to argue against him trying. Hermione was aware Divination was actually quite real, but after experiencing Trelawney, it left her with a foul taste in her mouth and a lack of trust in it. Being in the Hall of Prophecies and meeting the centaurs of the Forbidden Forest had tempered her full-on rejection of it. It could be true that she just wasn't cut out for it and was too skeptical to trust anything to do with it.

"Don't you trust me?" He continued grinding his pestle into the mortar without turning.

"Of course I do. With my life." There'd been no hesitation in her answer.

It gave her pause afterwards and made her marvel, not for the first time, over the progress between the two of them. The ventilation charm he cast brought her attention back to what he was doing.

Freezing for the briefest moment, he nodded once. "Don't panic."

He struck a match and dropped it into the smallest bowl where the contents of the mortar had just been emptied. They watched as the herbs curled and turned black, releasing curling plumes of smoke.

Draco leaned near it and inhaled, breathing deeply with his eyes closed as he waved his hand through it to waft the smoke closer. As the smoke drifted, the tendrils seemed to momentarily take on their own life, curling around his head and shoulders like snakes before going back to drifting like normal smoke.

Everything seemed fine until he began to twitch. At first, it was barely noticeable but it quickly began to escalate to the point she became concerned that he was having a seizure. He was grasping the edge of the table with white knuckles to keep himself upright by the time she summoned a soft chair behind him. Hermione managed to help lower him into it before he could collapse to the floor. He reached for the bowl that still had smoke billowing from its rim with twitching fingers and, afraid he would drop it or knock other things over in his attempt, Hermione held it for him while he continued to breathe it in until the fire burned out. His fingers circled her wrist, ensuring she didn't take it away again until he could no longer keep hold of her and his hands fell to his lap.

She sat the bowl back on the table and felt his face, then his pulse. His temperature and heart rate were perfectly normal; the only thing amiss was that it was as if his muscles refused to work anymore and his eyes were glazed like he was drunk out of his head. She speculated that if she lifted his arm by his hand and wiggled it he'd give no response, so she stayed next to the arm of the chair until his hazy eyes drifted to her and held her gaze. As gentle as the brush from a butterfly's wing, he implanted the thought in her mind.

"Light it?" It made her nervous he'd want to inhale this one as well.

He gave the barest nod. Hermione was a bit hesitant but remembered that she said she trusted him, and so, she lit a match and dropped it in. She slid it directly in front of him as the smoke curled to and fro curiously. Hermione conjured her own chair off to the side and gathered the reports on her desk to read more about the history of the magical locations while he went on what she could only think of as a mental journey. Even with all the fretting, she had the presence of mind to hang the Do Not Disturb sign, cast repelling charms on their door, and have a notebook ready for Draco for once he was done.

It took three hours and two more bowls before the mind-altering inhalants wore off completely. When he'd come back to rights with his motor skills and could articulate, he wrote furiously in the notebook.

Over the next several hours, Draco tried a variety of different things. Water scrying, wine scrying, reading ashes and tea leaves. She was relieved when he didn't fuss with a crystal ball or anything like that, but she was interested in the notes he'd been scribbling for quite some time now. Finally, he held up an ancient-looking deck of Tarot cards and turned to her.

"For this, we need to see my mother. It'll have to be at midnight, and we'll have to conduct an Old Magic ritual. Will you accompany me tonight to Malfoy Manor?" He leaned towards her with bright eyes as he asked.

Old Magic was a subject that was rarely talked about and Hermione's curiosity on the matter was never sated. It was something the pure-bloods guarded jealously and then were derisive when nobody else knew anything about it. She'd told more than one of them back at Hogwarts that it was easy to trample their traditions when it wasn't something willingly shared. If she didn't know she was mucking it up, it was hardly her own fault. Those days had been full of anger and sniping on all sides.

She stopped dead at his question, her eyes sliding to him to study him a moment. "Are you certain you want me there for that?"

Draco could only stare a moment before nodding once.

"Alright, what time do you want to go?"

"I need to send Mother a note. She's home for the next few weeks, and I know she won't mind helping with this specific task. I was thinking we would get there around ten. It'd give us time to set everything up, have some tea, and then proceed with the ritual." He straightened the items left on the table and cleaned the used bowls with a wave of his wand as he spoke.

After he was finished with his meticulous tidying, he moved to the desk to write the missive. One tap of his wand later and it vanished. She opened her mouth to ask how he did it when a knock came at the door.

Her mouth pursed as she drew her wand before moving the door.

She grasped the knob, quickly turning it and flinging it open, and jammed the end of her weapon under the jaw of the knocker before fully realizing who it was.

"Hermione! It's just me!" Harry's head was tilted back, eyes squinched closed.

She yanked her arm back in an instant, looking down at his hands that were full of takeout bags.

Still, she didn't lower the wand. "How did you get around my repelling charms?"

At that, he rolled his eyes. "Recognized them for what they were and took them down. Common training for Aurors. Malfoy should have told you that."

Her eyes cut over to her partner before returning to Harry. "He was busy with something when I did it. Must not have noticed."

She didn't know how kosher what Draco had done was, so she conveniently left that bit out.

"Are you going to make me stand in the door all day? Lunch is going to get cold soon. You know how shoddy the stasis charms are when placed by the local food places when they're in a rush," he said, cocking a brow.

Hermione mentally shook herself and stepped away.

"Yes, of course. Forgive me. Although I didn't know we were supposed to have lunch together today." Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember if they'd made a negotiation for a lunch date for today and she'd simply forgotten. It was possible; they'd been consumed by the case lately, but it was also unlikely since Draco had yet to agree to a single swap Harry wanted.

She watched Harry unload the bags and distribute food between the three of them. Draco didn't look like anything was amiss, taking his container and flipping it open, making sure everything was in order before tucking in. Harry conjured his own chair and both wizards looked at Hermione, waiting for her to take her seat at the desk and eat as if they did this regularly and she was out of step with the program.

She studied them a moment more before sitting and opening her own container to find it full of chicken tikka masala. She poked at it, stirring it with the rice before taking a bite. It was amazing, and she couldn't help but wonder if Harry had ventured out to Muggle London to her favorite shop. It tasted like she was being buttered up. Hermione licked her lips, wiped her mouth, and set her fork back down. Crossing her arms, she turned to the two wizards and squinted at them. They'd teamed up on her for Merlin knew what reason, and now she was going to find out the truth.

"What's going on?" She sounded far calmer than she felt.

Harry squashed himself back into his seat, and she barely caught the glare Draco aimed at him before their expressions smoothed back out. It was only an instant, but she'd caught it.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, Hermione. Can't three friends have lunch together?" Harry asked.

She scoffed. "I had to create a schedule and divide out who was having lunch with me on which days. Also, while you're both moderately friendly at times I highly doubt that whole 'friends' bit is actually true. Yet, anyway." She muttered the last bit.

Draco finally let the scowl take over his face as he stared at Harry.

"You'd have done better, Potter, if you'd been sorted into Slytherin and been adequately taught how to act," Draco said.

"It's not like the hat didn't try," Harry quipped.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh at the scandalized look on Draco's face.

"You mean the Sorting Hat tried to put you in the best house and you refused? What is wrong with you, Potter?"

Harry merely rolled his eyes and ignored him while Draco set to grumbling to himself as he stabbed his curry.

"Stop trying to distract me," she said, leveling them with a look.

Draco huffed and leaned back against his chair heavily as he plopped his lunch down on his desk. His eyes were tight as they looked everywhere but her.

So this was about her, then. She turned her gaze to Harry, pinning him in place and silently demanding to know.

He sighed and dropped his own container back on the desk, grimacing as some of the rice went scattering out the sides and onto some of her reports. She glared balefully at the mess.

It took him a few minutes, but he found the words he wanted because he finally met her eye. "Someone's interested in you, Hermione."

Her brow wrinkled, and she noted how Draco's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

"That's not unusual, Harry. I've had fans since the war ended. It wouldn't be the first time something strange involving one of my… more ardent admirers has been found," she said carefully.

He huffed. "This isn't just some random admirer, Hermione. This feels bigger. We've gone back over the scenes and expanded the ranges of the areas. We found a few notice-me-not and repelling charms at what looks to have been campsites. Mainly the scene where you nearly died. We found a trove of pictures." He looked away, anger glimmering in his eyes.

The silence felt thick and charged; it made Hermione's gut clench unpleasantly.

"What were the pictures of, Harry?" she asked.

"You." He seemed reluctant in his answer, his fists clenching tightly in his lap.

"Yes, Harry, I gathered that. What am I doing in them? Where am I?" She began twisting the napkin in her lap to the point of tearing it.

"Hermione, if I show you—" He started, his head jerking up at her sudden movement.

She'd risen from her chair before she could think. If? Oh, no, there was going to be none of that.

"Harry James Potter, there is no if in this situation." She prowled around the desk, heartbeat thrumming in her ears.

Harry shot to his feet and made for the door, but a spell flew past his head and sealed it shut before he could wrench it open. He whirled to face her, pulling out his own wand. Hermione didn't think he would duel her in such tight quarters, but she'd seen him do stupider things.

"Expelliarmus!" he yelled. He grinned as she squawked with rage as her wand went end over end through the air to land in his grip.

Magic crackled in the space between them as she stood frozen, furious. He must've realized, too late, that it wasn't a good idea to do that to her anymore as he looked past her with wide eyes.

Hermione growled low in her throat and launched herself at him, viciously gripping his Auror robes nearly to the point of ripping before she jolted him against the door. She snarled and made to repeat the motion when she was picked up bodily from behind by Draco, her eyes going wide as she was pulled off of him.

"Put me DOWN this instant!" she screeched, struggling in his grip.

He pulled her flush against him, grunting as she started throwing elbows, and he readjusted his grip to wrangle her arms within his hold. She didn't want to hurt him, just get free, else she'd be stomping his feet or bringing her foot back on one of his knees. Harry moved away from the door, and her eyes locked on him like a homing missile. He froze only for a moment before continuing over to her desk where he set her wand in plain view next to her lunch. Draco whispered in her ear and stroked along her arm with his thumb. At the sight of her wand, she began to visibly calm until she relaxed in Draco's grip.

Harry had reclaimed his seat, and she could see him watching them from the corner of his eye. Draco probably wouldn't notice that Harry was biting the inside of his lip, but she could always tell. Harry had largely ignored their hers and Draco's physical interactions outside of work when they'd had dinner or drinks with him and Ginny. She knew he wasn't happy about it, but he knew better than to say the first word against any of it. Hermione wasn't above kissing Draco or sitting in his lap in front of Harry and they both knew it.

Draco guided her back around the side-by-side desks and spun her to face him, looking in her eyes to check that she was indeed calm and that it wasn't a moment of trickery. She allowed him to guide her back into her chair and watched as he reclaimed his own. Snatching her wand from the desk, her eyes cut to the side to watch Harry who was carefully staring at her. When no other outburst occurred, he started the conversation again.

"Hermione," he said, waiting for her to meet his gaze, "when I show you these pictures, you have to promise you won't try to take care of this on your own. You'll allow us to help you, and you'll accept backup in all situations."

The silence stretched long enough to cause the two men to exchange a glance before she let out a long-suffering sigh.

"Fine. I promise," she ground out. She stared down into her lap as her fingers curled into tight fists.

She shifted over in her chair to lean on the arm, thinking about how Harry and Ron were the compulsive ones. There was no reason to have to make the stupid promise to begin with.

Draco rolled over until their arms were pressed together and waited until she met his gaze.

"Promise me, Hermione."

She clenched her eyes shut. "Fine, Draco. I promise that I won't do any of those rash things that Harry and Ron are famously known for in regards to this situation. I won't go vigilante, and I won't get into anything without backup."

She still felt resentful and hurt, but not as much as when she'd been dealing with Harry. It was hard to remember sometimes that Draco didn't really know what lengths she would go to with the issues she'd gained coming out of the war. He also didn't know, like Harry and Ron, what she'd normally do either. He obviously had his own theories since he was extracting a promise too.

Draco rolled away, but not far and turned his attention to Harry. She schooled herself into calmness and turned her attention back to him as well.

He removed a wide envelope from his robes and enlarged it to its regular size. Hermione could tell that it was stuffed, and her eyes locked onto it. He lay it on her desk and pushed it towards her, watching as it slid out of his reach. His fingers twitched before he folded them in his lap. She could tell what he was thinking and quickly pulled it well out of his reach, snatching her wand back and stowing it in her sleeve in the process. Her lunch was closed back up and hidden in a drawer for safekeeping after she renewed the stasis charm on it to keep it warm; there were currently more important things to think about aside from food.

Opening the envelope, she carefully shook it until the photos came sliding out in a heap. She began spreading them out before she really was able to see what they contained.

They were all of her. Each and every last one. Pictures of her walking down Diagon Alley, shopping in Flourish and Blotts, a close up of her at Fortescue's. The one that sent her heart into confusion over whether to stop altogether or slam furiously in her ribs was one of her and Draco on one of their lunch dates. It was a close-up and looked like the photographer was directly on the other side of the glass from their table. They were at one of their favorite sandwich shops, and she'd just looked down to select a crisp when Draco looked at her with open hunger for a moment before his mask slid back into place in perfect time for her to look back up at him.

It was exceptionally obvious he found her attractive. She could feel the burn of his eyes when she wasn't looking but rarely ever actually caught him. Secretly, she longed for the day he'd look at her like that openly, and she bit her lip at the idea of it. She wanted it now but it was one of those things that was worth waiting for. She'd known going into it that he was raised to be quite conservative, so when she wanted more than she thought he'd be comfortable with, she merely reminded herself that all good things came to those who waited. He was worth investing the time in.

She looked up at Harry. "These are public, you are aware of that right? They could be the stolen collection from a press photographer. Or a collection that's been filched over time from one or many photographers."

He shook his head, crossing his legs and looking away. "Keep going, Hermione."

So she did, and the further down the pile she got, the more her stomach clenched.

There was a picture of her tending the plants in her greenhouse. One of her napping on her back porch. A dark picture that must've been taken in the middle of the night from outside her kitchen window. She was in a thin tank top and panties, not that the picture showed it, but she remembered that night. It was only a couple weeks ago and while the dreams of her falling had dropped off, they hadn't stopped entirely. When she ended up having one it was so hard to get back to sleep she usually didn't even try. Draco had been able to get her back to sleep easily, but without him there it just wasn't going to happen. She would, however, go to the kitchen and make a cup of tea to wash down a calming draught down with before lying in bed until it was time to go to work.

There were pictures left to examine but she wasn't sure she could bring herself to look at them. She leaned back in her chair, her hands dropping to her lap from the desk as her mind raced. Her house was supposed to be safe. She locked the doors out of habit but if this person could get through her wards, well, then getting into her house where she bathed and slept and did intimate things would be a snap, and it could be done absolutely silently thanks to magic.

It wasn't enough to go through Hogwarts fighting to be at the top of her year while keeping Harry and Ron out of trouble, and keep them passing classes, and just flat out keeping Harry alive most years. It also included Umbridge, Grawp, The Battle at the Department of Mysteries, riding thestrals to London, Dementors, being chased by a werewolf, a Basilisk, and the many other forms and reaches of Voldemort. Like the entirety of the events of Sixth Year. It wasn't enough to have to go on the run because of the Death Eaters crashing Bill and Fleur's party. It wasn't enough having to spend months and months in a tent with barely any food, the ever-present cold, and constantly having to wear that damn Horcrux until they finally were able to destroy it. Then, she was tortured repeatedly by one of the most evil women she'd ever encountered in front of the man she was now dating, not to mention she'd had a chandelier dropped onto her afterwards. Then they'd had to break into a bank, get backstabbed by Griphook, break out on a dragon and ride it into the countryside before jumping off of it. And then, the Battle of Hogwarts had happened. Now? Now she had a Stalker, capital S. Now

A pair of strong, cool hands cupping her face cut off her raving thoughts as they spun out of control. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that if his hands felt cool, her face must be a furnace. The thought flittered away as those hands turned her to look at him. His forehead and eyes were crinkled as he studied her, then she noticed his mouth was moving. Eventually, the ringing in her ears subsided as he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. The cool metal of his thumb ring grounded her, and she was able to focus more on what was coming out of his mouth.

"Come back to me. I've got you; you're safe with me. I won't let anything happen to you," he murmured over and over until finally a sob ripped its way up out of her chest and she crumpled under the new weight that had been dropped onto her shoulders.

Before, she'd had years to grow and adapt to the threats Voldemort and his followers posed but now, she had no idea how dangerous this person was or even an idea of who it was. It was overwhelming, and it made her want to get her beaded bag and her wand and flee. Even if it meant Apparating every morning to a new location. It seemed the most sensible thing at the moment anyway. She had all the supplies and the knowledge. All she had to do was get out, and she could be good as gone. Nobody would ever see her again, and she'd never have to put up with bullshit like this. It was all too much. She thought she'd be able to handle it, but after seeing the evidence something inside her seemed to fracture. The proverbial straw had fallen on the camel's back.

Her mind quieted as she felt herself be shifted from her chair and into Draco's lap. The reliable hands that had been on her face were now running up and down her back as he tucked her underneath his chin. The impulse to run gradually died off as she listened to his steady heartbeat under her ear. Her internal compass was pointing true north again when moments ago it had been doing its best imitation of a spinning top.

Clearly that bit had to do with Draco but she still had no idea why. It was like the answer was dancing just out of her grasp.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked when her fury-induced tears slowed to nothing and her hysteria at the situation died down to a manageable level.

She sighed. "About how nice it would be to burn my house down, take my beaded bag, and Apparate to a new place every day for the rest of my life so nobody would ever be able to find me and do anything like this again. No more stalkers, no more Dark Lords, no more Umbridges…" She grumbled the last bit as she squished her cheek against his chest in displeasure.

"Your promise!" he said, tensing.

"—is only one of three things keeping me here," she said. She closed her eyes and sagged against him as a wave of exhaustion rolled over her.

She kept waiting for him to ask what the other two things were and wondered if he thought Harry and Ron were the answers. He kept quiet, however, and she didn't feel like explaining herself in the moment.

Their lunch hour had sucked the life out of her. All she wanted to do now was go curl up somewhere and sleep or drink herself into a stupor. Either one was acceptable at this point. However, there was a case to work on and now the stalker to deal with.

"We're going home," Draco said as he scooped her into his arms.

"We have work to do."

Draco was having no part of that idea. He'd already summoned all of their things and shrank them all to fit in a pillbox disguised as a watch. It clicked itself shut and zoomed back into his pocket with a flick of his wand.

"Granger, I'm not sure what you think you're going to accomplish after taking a Bludger to your emotional and mental faculties. We're going home—" He was interrupted by her earnest struggle to be put down.

"I'm not going back there. I'm not sure where I'll go, but it won't be back to the place I once considered to be a safe haven. My house is no longer a home," she said, voice cracking as she tried to wriggle out of his arms like Crookshanks used to do with her when she went to stuff him in his traveling basket.

"I was referring to my home, barmy bint. I'd never take you back to that place unless specifically requested," he said as he regained a tight grip on her.

"But—"

"No buts." They finally reached the door.

Harry removed the sealing charm she'd hit it with earlier and opened it. Draco walked to the departmental Floo with his usual unfussed swagger as if carrying her around was a normal, everyday occurrence. Harry tossed in the Floo powder and they were gone, back to Appledale. Draco stood off to the side of the fireplace until Harry had made it through before he looked at Hermione.

"If I set you down are you going to try to run off?" he asked, brow cocked.

She shook her head, and he put her back on her own two feet. Draco wasted no time in leading them to the living room where he poured them a round as they took up residence on the couch. Hermione sat closest to his chair as Harry collapsed on the other end and rubbed his face. Once drinks were dispensed, Draco took his usual seat.

"So, what do we do now?" Hermione asked.

"Well, first thing, I don't think you should stay at your own house anymore," Harry said.

"Obviously, Potter," Draco said, nose wrinkling.

"And I think you should remain on the case. We'll start a rotation for someone to stay there under the guise of Polyjuice, if you're okay with it, just to make it look like you're still actually living there. That way you just seem annoyed rather than threatened enough to leave. Also, no more going off to past crime scenes on your own, even if it's just a few minutes to double-check a theory. That's protocol but I know you've snuck out there on your own more than once recently," Harry said, his voice turning stern at the end.

Hermione drained her glass, set it down with a clunk, and crossed her arms as she glared at him.

"I seem to remember you stepping out of bounds about a thousand times both at Hogwarts and during cases, Harry James Potter. Who are you to lecture me on breaking protocol? Especially when I'm there for mere minutes," she demanded.

There was no real desire to continue going anywhere alone, not after the last two incidents, but the idea of being forbidden to do something infuriated her. There was already so much being taken from her. The least Harry could do was trust her not to behave like him and Ron.

Harry turned and scooted over on the couch until he was next to her. He pried her hands out of her lap and held them both firmly, staring into her eyes. "Your best friend, Hermione, who wouldn't be able to live with himself if anything happened to you. This is serious! We don't know who it is but if they could get through your wards undetected I'm not taking any chances, no matter how angry you get. Limiting access to you is required as well. You'll have to cut down on your outings to both Muggle London and Diagon Alley as much as possible. No more than once a week, if that."

"No can do, Potter. Exposure therapy will be ongoing for a few more years before either of us can think about reducing it more than twice a week," Draco said.

"What do you usually do?" Harry asked.

"If you must know, we go to lunch and then do a bit of light shopping since we're already in Diagon Alley. Usually Flourish and Blotts, the Apothecary, and the like. Simple quick trips." Draco seemed reluctant to divulge even that, parting with as little information as possible.

It was obvious that Draco didn't like sharing the information with others, even in vague details. It made her think of a dragon jealously guarding its valuables, except what was valuable here was their time together. It made warmth bloom in her chest and the corner of her mouth twitch into the faintest grin.

"Well, as long as she's with you it should be alright, but Hermione? No more Wednesday jaunts alone. If you're not with Draco or me, you need an Auror with you." It was obvious that it wasn't something he was going to budge on no matter how big of a fit she pitched, and really, aside from Wednesdays she never went alone anywhere anymore anyway, so she shrugged her acquiescence.

"Anyone but Finch-Fletchly," Draco intoned darkly, and Hermione silently agreed.

When there were no arguments Harry continued on. "No risky behavior. Just keep your head down and your eyes open. Constant vigilance."

Just the phrase alone made Draco sneer. Anything that brought back reminders of having been transfigured and smashed around rankled, she'd found. His gaze was glued to Harry as if he were waiting for the other man to say something that would justify a fight.

Harry opened his mouth, likely to deliver the provocation, but a sharp jab to the ribs from Hermione dislodged that notion and he let the moment go, looking like he'd just sucked a lemon wedge. She could already tell there was going to be many moments like this, but right now she didn't have it in her to deal with letting the two of them go at each other. One day perhaps, but not this one.

"So, now what?" Hermione asked.

"Now we go and get the things you'll need until you can resume living there. Once we leave there today, there's no going back until it's over. Someone will be in continual rotation, staying at your house for a week at a time and mimicking your work schedule to throw the stalker off. You'll need to adjust the wards to recognize them," Harry said.

"Can't this wait until tomorrow, Potter? She's had a long enough day as it is, and we still have some things to do before our day is done." Draco caught her wrist before Hermione could drag herself to her feet.

"'Fraid not. They want to start their first day tomorrow and Hermione needs to be gone by today so it can be seamless." Harry cast an apologetic look at her.

"We're taking the rest of the week off then after we finish up tonight," Draco grumbled, hauling himself up and offering her a hand.

Her eyebrows furrowed and before she realized she'd taken it, she was standing with her small hand ensconced in his much larger one.

"But our case—"

"Can wait." Both wizards said at the same time, cutting her off before glaring at the other.

She let Draco lead her to the fireplace, where they traveled to her sitting room in a whoosh of green flames. From there, she shut down her emotions, promising herself that she would allow herself to think about it tonight in the shower. The first step was her closet, where she pulled out several large leather tote bags with wide openings. Harry stayed in the living room to claim plausible deniability to the undetectable extension charms she placed on them. Draco had no such qualms and sat on her bed as she worked.

Duplicating all of her clothing for Auror use, she stuffed all the originals in one tote, leaving nothing behind. Toiletries were sealed up and packed in next. Then her favorite books, and all of her photos replicated and packed away. All of her important and delicate things went into the last bag. She'd seen too many stalker situations that resulted in the theft of personal items or a home being destroyed either physically or emotionally for the person. In the event that she couldn't bring herself to come back, she wanted to be prepared. Harry and Draco had already exchanged what they thought was a covert look when she'd moved back to the sitting room to collect things from her desk, but she caught it. She couldn't bring herself to care that she'd been triggered by the whole thing and the only way to placate it was to feed the preparedness need, so that's what she did.

When she was finished and looked at the pile of bags, her heart rose in her throat again, and she desperately wished she was normal. That she could just pack some clothes and a few things and be able to leave without a production like this. Familiar arms enveloped her and pulled her into a tight hug, and she allowed herself just a moment to relax into him.

The moment was cut short when a crash sounded from her back porch. Harry and Draco looked to one another before scrambling for the back door, wands out. Someone thundered off the back steps and into the yard, the crack of Apparition sounding from just beyond the fence line where her wards ended.

They froze once they got outside, looking around, but before either could leave the covered porch, she stopped them and pointed to the footprints.

"I'm going to preserve them first for evidence," she said before waving her wand. Two of the prints scooped themselves out of the earth in a perfect block and zoomed into a crate Hermione had conjured before it vanished to their office evidence locker.

She wished she'd bought that fingerprinting kit she'd been thinking about a few weeks prior but shrugged it off, not wanting to add that to the tottering pile already looming large in her mind.

Once done, she watched Harry go investigate the area. Draco stood on high alert but refused to leave her side. She repaired the planter that had been the source of the racket to give herself a momentary diversion. When Harry came back empty-handed, they returned to the living room where Hermione shrank her bags and took one last look around the place that was supposed to be her sanctuary. She had the sinking feeling she'd never feel safe in it again, regardless of what happened.

Draco led her back to his home and watched as Harry sealed off the Floo connection between the two places. It seemed so final in a way, and her shoulders drooped.

"I'm going to run you a bath. You've had a long day, and you should relax for a while before we go to the Manor," Draco said. He headed off towards the bedroom that was once again hers, now for an indeterminable amount of time.

Harry watched until he was out of sight before his head whipped around to stare at Hermione with narrowed eyes. "Are you really going to let him handle you like that?"

Her brow scrunched as she studied him a minute. "He's just looking after me Harry, which I'm grateful for. He's right though. This has been the longest day, and it's not even remotely close to being finished yet. Quite honestly a bath sounds pretty perfect. If I didn't want it, I wouldn't accept it. Or have you forgotten that about me?"

Harry froze, statue still, before taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly through his nose. He gathered her hands in his. "No, I haven't forgotten. I'm just not used to seeing you how you are with him. I'm still protective of you, Hermione. You're like the sister I never had and all of this, quite frankly, is strange for me; I'm still adapting. Malfoy being kind, considerate... protective, isn't something I'm used to. He's different than he was in school, that much is obvious, but he's still a prat most of the time regardless of how good he is at his job. We're not exactly friends yet, but we've gone to the pub a few times together after I saw that the two of you weren't going to be this explosive whirlwind thing that died as quickly as it started. It's a process, befriending him."

She understood what he wasn't saying. That he loved her enough to work to become friends with his former arch-nemesis, despite how Draco was still often surly and aloof with almost everyone but her— a veritable ice prince. It's not like it would hurt to have Harry's friendship if the two of them didn't work out. She shook off the pang that shot through her, like she'd been struck in the gut with an arrow at the thought.

"I have to go alert the Auror department and file a report about what happened at your house. I'll see you soon." He gathered her to him for a familial hug, and she squeezed him tight.

"Be safe, Harry, please," she said as she let him go.

He grinned and winked at her before disappearing back to the traveling room.

Seconds later Draco came back through, stopping next to her as he took a deep breath. He held it for a moment before letting it out quietly. She didn't know what to make of it but snagged his hand and brought it to her lips. She kissed along the backs of each of his fingers, glancing up to watch him watching her with hooded eyes, the tiniest quirk curling the corner of his mouth. He took advantage of the hold she had on him and pulled her close against him, folding her in his arms as he nuzzled his head against the top of hers.

"Thank you for taking care of me," she whispered. It was still very foreign, being looked after, but she was trying.

"Don't thank me for doing something I want to do. You deserve it."

She pressed tighter against him, small hands clinging to his waistcoat.

"Go have a bath, I'll bring you some wine." He kissed her temple before nudging her towards her bedroom.

He seemed more relaxed when she finally pried her fingers from his clothes and padded off to her rooms. She snagged the set of pajamas and a robe that had been laid out at the end of the bed before entering the bathroom.

The lights were dimmed and there were honeysuckle scented bubbles piled high in the tub. She stripped her clothes off, tossing them in a nearby basket before testing the water. It was almost too hot, which was perfect. She got in and sank back against the wall of the tub until water lapped at her collarbones, and she was hidden from view by mounds of fluff.

Her body relaxed as she tried to shift her mind to less stressful topics, like the fact that she was going to be sleeping in the best pajamas, in the best bed that had the best pillows she'd ever had the pleasure of sleeping in. She'd have company and would feel safe in her environment. She meandered along in her mind until Bumble came to the edge of the tub with half a glass of white wine for her.

"I thought Draco was coming?"

"I can ask for you, Miss," Bee offered as she came through the door with a stack of towels that towered well over the elf's head.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble…"

Bee sighed as she put away the towels in a closet, then snapped her fingers and disappeared.

Moments later, Bee reappeared with Draco at her side, his hand clamped over his eyes.

"Bee said you wanted me."

"Yes, you said you'd be bringing me some wine. I thought that meant you were going to keep me company," she said before taking a sip.

"It would be improper of me to invade your bathing area regardless of how much I want to be near you."

"But you can't see anything."

"I feel like I'm intruding on your privacy."

"Please, Draco. I don't want to be alone," she said in a small voice.

He pressed his lips together as he thought, and she held her breath. Bee must have taken a cue she'd missed because she led him forward until he got to the tub. He sat next to it, becoming visible from only the bridge of his nose up. She leaned against that side of the tub until they were eye to eye.

"Open your eyes," she whispered.

Slowly, he cracked one open and visibly relaxed when he was only able to see as much of her as she was of him. "Hi."

"Hi. Thank you for coming in here for me. I know you must be uncomfortable." A sliver of guilt wound around her gut for being so selfish.

"None of that. This is your private space, and I didn't want to intrude. Besides, I don't particularly like the idea of you being out of my sight at all right now anyway."

"Same. I feel like I've walked right into the last two traps that were laid." She shuddered despite the steam coming off the surface of the water.

"I won't let anything happen to you." His grey eyes seemed to glow silver in the dimness with his ferocity.

"I trust you."

They talked for a while on more pleasant topics until the water grew tepid. Then Draco clenched his eyes closed, and Bee led him back out of the room without a backwards glance.

Hermione cast a warming charm to reheat the water and scrubbed herself until she was pink. When she finally felt clean again, she cast the charms that kept her skin smooth and hair-free in all the right places. Then she drained the tub, moisturized, and slipped into the lounge clothes, stopping off in the bedroom to put on her slippers. She padded back to the living room to find him on the couch, arm resting along the back of it as if waiting on her.

The thought evaporated as she moved to join him. She sat close and leaned into him, nuzzling her head into position on his shoulder. He slid his arm around her waist and held her close; he was so warm and she felt far more settled inside as she rested against him. It was wonderful, like the bath.

"Sleep," he murmured, "I'll wake you when it's time to get ready to go."

She barely noticed the open book on his lap before her eyes drifted closed, and she fell sound asleep.


See you all next Saturday!