Chapter Seven
A unseasonable bitingly chilly Summer breeze wound its way through the buildings of Melbourne city, its shimmering streetlamps the only light against the backdrop of an inky black sky. It was nearing midnight, and Hermione was cold. She felt the wind blow against the back of her neck and it sent a multitude of shivers down her spine. She was definitely used to early December being so cold, having lived most of her life in a different hemisphere, but had expected the opposite being in Australia and having heard stories of its scorching Summers. The days were hot, but at night the temperatures could drop dramatically.
Her back was pressed against the brick wall of a rooftop entranceway and she was wearing a thin layer of black all-purpose tactical gear. There were footsteps approaching from within and she moved silently around the small, square room holding the staircase that led downstairs. She heard the doors hinges squeaky protest as it was opened and then quickly shut once again.
Unable to feel her toes anymore, Hermione slipped her wand down her sleeve into her hand and flicked it, whispering "Calficio." Warmth suddenly spread through her limbs and torso and she suddenly felt that she was wearing a woollen scarf, gloves and the warmest pair of bed socks possible. It enabled her to focus more on the task at hand and she took a moment to glance around the corner.
There was a lone figure standing on the far side of the rooftop, gazing over the edge of the parapet. From the distance, Hermione couldn't make out much of the silhouette, but she knew this was the person she had been waiting for over the last two hours. They had finally arrived.
"Vixen to Cobra," she said, so quietly that had you been standing next to her you would have had trouble to hear her.
"Cobra here, radio check." Draco's silky voice penetrated her ears through the Comms Charm they had linked up.
"Roger, radio check affirmative. I have visual on the target, over." She pulled her head back around and waited.
"Roger that, any eyes on the informant? Over."
"Possible informant is just entering the building now," another male voice, who sounded bored with the proceedings, interjected.
"Identify yourself when using the comms, over," Draco snapped, irritated. Hermione felt the corner of her lips pull up on one side. She could just imagine him sitting in the control room with Chief glaring at the roof in frustration. This was the third field training exercise they had done, and every time Trevor had done something to ruin it. He hadn't taken any step of this training seriously and Draco had just about reached his limit.
"Oh sorry, this is Trevo-"
"Code names, agent! Over."
"Righto, no need to get your panties in a twist, it's Wombat." There was a pause. "Over."
Hermione felt she could hear as Draco's ears began turning red through the comms. She had seen them do this several times over the last two weeks, since they upped their training to include field scenarios. He was getting frequently frustrated with a lot of the candidates and seemed he couldn't wait for training to be over. This was the first exercise that she was on point for to extract an item that the informant was dropping off to the target and she was determined not to let Trevor ruin it for her. She had done her best as backup for the last two exercises but knew she couldn't rely on him for any support. She ignored the negative feedback happening through their magical comms and slipped around the last corner so that she was back near the door of the stairway. The target had their back to her.
"Vixen here, sorry to interrupt." She whispered. "Going radio silent, over."
"Roger that, Vixen," Draco confirmed. "Over and out."
"But-" Trevor tried to protest.
"Over and out!" Draco said again, cutting him off.
Hermione had wished she had Harry's invisibility cloak more than once over the past ten years, and in her time working in the Department of Magical Research (of which she did for four years straight out of Hogwarts) had come across various elements of the Disillusionment Charm that, when combined, managed to tweak the original charm enough so that instead of giving herself a chameleon effect (as intended), she had, in fact, turned completely invisible. She hadn't mentioned her discovery to anyone, however, as she didn't want that kind of power in the average witch or wizard's knowledge bank. Anyone could abuse the charm and use it for their own nefarious reasons.
She raised her wand above her head, turned it clockwise once and tapped her forehead whispering, "Deflectare cristallum."
Had she used the original charm (simply deflectare with slightly different wand movements), she would have had the feeling of an egg being cracked on her skull. As it was, her spell felt more like ice water trickling over her body and her shoulders gave an involuntary shudder. She knew that the spell had worked when she felt this, however, and looked down to see that her legs and body were now completely transparent.
She walked slowly and silently across the rooftop, using the raucous seasonal gust to aid her in disguising her footsteps. There were several air vents big enough to hide behind, and she made her way there, charm or no charm, she didn't want to risk being seen or heard.
The door to the rooftop opened, and a woman stepped out, her face and thick, dark hair covered by a rather large red hat. She was wearing a matching dark red, double breasted, thick woollen coat. In her hands was a burgundy business case. Hermione almost gave herself away with surprised laughter. The woman was a deadringer for a popular muggle game character.
I guess we know where in the world Carmen Sandiego is, she thought, wrinkling her nose to stop herself from giggling. The woman strode over to the figure, who stepped into the light. The man was dressed to the nines in a tuxedo, he was freshly shaved and hair neatly combed.
Hermione could have slapped her palm to her face. Carmen Sandiego, meet Bond...James Bond, she thought good humouredly. She bet Draco was behind the costumes on this one, just to try and throw her off, knowing that she had a muggle upbringing. She had been recurrently surprised to find out just how much muggle pop culture Draco had learnt over the last decade in his exile.
The informant and target shook hands and walked back over to the parapet, whereupon the woman opened her briefcase.
This was it, Hermione thought to herself. Finally.
She snuck forward until she was almost next to them and then sent a quick spell over to the staircase door, causing it to fly open with a screech and smash against the brick wall. The noise made the two figures jump and yell out and they whirled around, bodies rigid with anticipation. The woman took several hesitant steps forward to check that they were still alone.
That small moment of distraction was all Hermione needed. She brought her wand up and waved, conjuring a duplication charm on the small bronze brooch that was in the middle of the briefcase, held in place by firm foam. The twin of the brooch appeared suddenly in the palm of her hand and she swapped them with seconds to spare as the two figures shrugged and the woman returned, checking the contents of the briefcase. Seeing nothing amiss, the informant closed and handed the target the case.
"Dimitri sends his regards," the woman said, inclining her head to look at the man. With that, she spun on the spot and disapparated, closely followed by the man doing the same.
"Training Scenario Three has ended," Draco said over the comms. "Report back to base."
"Roger that, Vixen out."
"Roger that, Wombat out."
"Roger that, Pioneer out."
Hermione had forgotten all about the third person in her group, another male called Ben. They gave him the name Pioneer, but Hermit would have been more accurate. He had literally nothing to contribute to any training exercise. The only true opponents she had found challenging had been Amelia, the red-headed woman, and the extremely charming Charlie, a young man from the Australian outback, a through and through country boy. Hermione snuck back to behind the air vent and removed her disillusionment charm before apparating back to the training room at the ministry.
Draco looked as frazzled as she expected and she tilted her head at him, giving him a knowing smile. He rolled his eyes in exasperation, seeking sympathy, and didn't have a chance to say anything before the other members of her group appeared next to her.
"Ok debrief time," Chief clapped his large hands together. The three candidates looked at him expectantly. "You guys really sucked, and the mission was a complete failure."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up and she shifted her eyes to Draco, feeling confused and disappointed. She had completed the extraction, wasn't that the mission?
"Hey!" Trevor whined. "That's not fair."
"There was no useful communication between any of you. You didn't work as a team. Trevor, you started blocking up comms with your stupid arguing with your base agent. And last, but not least, the item extraction didn't happen." Chief counted off his fingers.
Draco finally returned Hermione's look and apologetically shrugged his shoulders. "Better luck next time, though."
"Wait a minute," Hermione spoke up, waving a hand in the air for attention. "You think the extraction didn't happen? Can I ask what makes you think that?"
"Well," Draco drawled, folding his arms to explain. "Because, our two actors slash agents returned to base, brooch in case. Ergo, extraction didn't happen."
"Oh, I see," Hermione pretended to think about this for a second before breaking into a sly grin and held out her other hand. "You mean...this brooch?"
All of the eyes on the men in the room widened and they looked dumbfoundedly at her, and then each other.
"What?!" Draco exclaimed, coming forward to look closer at her outstretched hand. "How the hell do you have that? I swear we just saw it in the case."
Hermione shrugged. "I only had a moments chance to get it, so I duplicated the original and did a swap instead of just a clean extraction so they wouldn't suspect anything."
Draco took the brooch from her and examined it. "She actually did it, this is the original brooch."
Chief boomed a laugh and walked over to pat her on the back. "Well done! How did you manage it? We had eyes on the scene the whole time and didn't see you even go near them. We thought you were stuck behind the stairway."
Hermione winked at him. "Can't a woman have her secrets, Chief? After all, I learnt from the best."
"Oh, quit your flattery," Chief laughed, waving her compliment away. "Regardless, it's an impressive result! Damien, you have found one promising candidate."
Hermione beamed at him and then at Draco, who was still staring at her with an astonished expression on his face. Chief turned back to Ben and Trevor and began to berate them on what they did (or in Bens case, didn't do).
"So tell me the truth," Hermione took a step closer to Draco and slogged him on the arm. "Were you in charge of costumes for the agents, because I seriously almost ruined everything by laughing."
"Wellllll," Draco half sang and ran a hand through his blond locks. "I may have made a suggestion or two."
Hermione couldn't help but laugh at him.
Draco placed the brooch on the counter behind him and placed an arm on her shoulder. "Come on, let me walk you home."
The pair fell into each other's step as they walked down the slope of the unevenly paved lane.
"Can I ask you a question?" Hermione prodded him conversationally.
"Well, you just did."
"Oh, ha ha." Hermione snorted. "Seriously though, why did you give Trevor the codename Wombat?"
"What?" Draco looked at her surprised. "Not a question I was expecting. In this case, it's because wombats are lazy, hairy, and seem to only cause trouble when left to their own devices."
This caused Hermione to laugh, and Draco glanced at her sideways, smiling himself. He had thought it was quite clever.
"That's a very accurate assessment of Trevor, but I think it's highly unfair to the wombats that you lumped him in with them."
Draco shrugged. "Well, if they're anything like Trevor, I'm sure they'll find a way to let me know about their grievances."
They fell back into silence. Hermione's self-warmth charm had long worn off and she shivered slightly, wrapping her arms around herself.
"Are you cold?" Draco murmured to her, and casually wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her in close. "I have no idea how you lasted on that rooftop for two hours."
"I know a charm that helps," she said airily. But she didn't move from his side, as warmth crept its way across her belly. She wasn't sure if the warmth was a direct result of Draco's natural body heat, or if it was maybe the effect he just had on her by being in such close proximity.
After a moments pause, where they walked companionly together, Hermione suddenly burst out, demanding, "How are you so bloody warm?"
He was making it hard to resist the temptation to snuggle in. She felt him shrug. "Must be my natural manliness," he joked.
"Well, if it's manly to be warm, I must be extremely feminine," Hermione replied.
"What gives you that idea?" Draco asked, and then gave a rather loud, high-pitched shriek as she reached under his shirt to place her freezing cold hands on his bare skin. She burst into laughter as he leaped away from her, his face aghast. "Merlin, woman! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!"
She bent over forwards in hilarity, tears coming to her eyes. "You...you scream like a girl," she said through peals of laughter. "Very manly."
Draco made an undignified noise in his throat and straightened his shirt and jacket. "Why, I never!"
This just made Hermione laugh harder. Draco was trying his hardest to look annoyed but seeing her laugh like this was refreshing and almost seemingly contagious. His lips began to twitch, and he brought his hand up to stop himself from laughing along with her.
"You're going to pay for that," he said evenly from behind his hand. When she straightened up, wiping a tear from her eye, to question what he meant, Draco bounded forward, grabbing her by the waist and throwing her over his shoulder, running down the rest of the laneway.
Hermione squealed from becoming suddenly airborne. "Ahh! Draco Lucius Malfoy, you put me down this instant!"
He stopped suddenly beneath her and she could feel his chest heaving heavily.
"Sorry," he said. He let her slide down so that her feet rested on the pavement. "I...uh. I find that I am having trouble with flashbacks whenever I hear my full name."
"Oh, Draco, I'm so sorry, I forgot about the Malfoy thing."
He flinched. Hermione brought her hand up and rested it on his high cheekbones. His eyes looked faraway and she moved his face so that he was looking her. Her eyes glinted gold in the light of the streetlamp and he blinked hard, focusing on her worried features.
"Do you think about the war a lot?" she asked quietly.
"The war," he nodded distractedly. "And before."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," he shook his head.
"Would you like me to say something to distract you?"
He shrugged again. "You can try?"
Hermione paused, building the expectation up. "Your code name shouldn't be Cobra, it should be Cockatoo the way you shriek."
He snorted once and she felt his body loosen slightly in annoyed amusement. She grabbed his hand and pulled it so that it was around her shoulders once more.
"Let's get you home, Miranda Hart," Draco said, mockingly.
Hermione wormed her arm around his back, in between the layer of his jumper and his shirt and they stayed that way for the rest of the walk.
When they finally stopped in front of Hermione's apartment block, Draco looked down at her for a long time. The silence wasn't one of those moments that felt awkward and uncomfortable. Hermione was completely at ease, not saying a word, but sharing his gaze. Eventually she broke the moment, requesting, "come up with me, I'll make you a hot drink?"
Draco looked like he was about to refuse her, but instead, allowed her to pull on his hand and was led up the steps to the front door.
With the kettle left boiling, Hermione bent over and browsed the small DVD selection she had in the shelf next to her tv. She didn't have much time for shopping with all the training, but she managed to get a few movies from the local department store on her last free day.
"What are you in the mood for?" she asked over her shoulder to Draco who was making himself comfortable on her couch.
She heard a quiet chuckle come from his direction. "Is that a trick question?"
Hermione turned, still bent over at the hips with her legs straight, to see him looking at her backside with an eyebrow arched and a mischievous glint in his eye. "I'm going to ignore that," she warned.
"I'm just teasing."
She gave him a mock glare, before turning back to the shelf.
"Maybe something light," he finally suggested. She finally chose one of her favourites growing up, Much ado about Nothing. "Ah, Shakespeare, definitely light," he quipped, facetiously.
"It's a comedy! Of sorts." Hermione felt defensive. The kettle began to squeal as it reached boiling point and she went and made tea.
"Why do you do it the muggle way? Making tea?" Draco asked from his seat.
She shrugged, nonchalantly. "Habit, I suppose. Plus, I think it gives you more satisfaction if you do everything non-magically, by hand."
"Speaking of, do you need a hand?" He asked. "I feel a bit like chivalry is dead with me sitting here."
"Oh tosh, I offered to make you the drink, so I'm making you the drink."
She brought a tray over and placed it on the coffee table. It held a porcelain teapot with tea cosy over the top, two teacups with saucers and a small plate of biscuits.
"I'm just going to get out of my work clothes. Let the tea steep for a few minutes before you pour it."
Draco watched as she left the lounge and shifted his weight on the couch. The volume on the television was low, and he stifled a laugh as the opening scenes, depicting naked men jumping into large baths, appeared. He had seen this adaptation once before but had read the play several times while in Hogwarts, so was very familiar with the storyline.
Hermione reappeared as he carefully poured the tea into the cups and he waited until he replaced the teapot back on the tray before he looked up at her, picking up the first cup and saucer to pass it to her. As he caught sight of her fluffy pink pyjama pants, he almost lost his grip on the saucer.
"Oh my goodness, you are wearing the most adorable and...unexpected outfit."
Hermione dramatically posed as if she were a model. "What, these things? I found them at this fancy pyjama store in town. They feel like I'm wearing a blanket and are actually the most comfortable thing I think I've ever worn so I've grown to ignore the hideous colour."
Draco looked at her disbelievingly as she accepted the offered cup of tea.
"I'm serious," she said. "Feel them."
She offered a leg up and he tentatively reached out and ran his hand up the length of her thigh. "Wow!" he exclaimed. "It's like patting a super fluffy kitten."
He had left his hand on her thigh for a second longer than would have been just an innocent touch and he cleared his throat as he shifted again and reached for his own tea.
"I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me." The voice of actress Emma Thompson echoed through the lounge.
"Scoot over," Hermione said, shoving Draco's leg with her foot. He shuffled a bit and she stood on the couch balancing for a moment, saucer in hand, and then gracefully sunk into the seat with her legs crossed.
They watched the movie and sipped their tea; Draco reached forward and chose one of the biscuits on the tray in front of him.
"Oh, I just love the banter between these two," she commented, as Benedict and Beatrice were on screen. After a few minutes, Draco glanced at Hermione who was still staring intently at the television.
"Ok, I have to ask," he said finally. "It's bugging me. How did you manage to swap the brooch? We were watching that rooftop; I didn't see you leave your hiding spot at all...unless..."
Hermione turned in her seat, placing her now empty teacup and saucer on the tray next to the biscuits. "Unless what?"
"You don't have Potter's bloody invisibility cloak with you, do you?"
Hermione barked a surprised laugh. "Harry's cloak? No, that's definitely with him. Didn't you say he was a secret agent, like you? He needs that cloak. Even with it, people still seem to know where he is at times."
"Then how?" Draco exclaimed. "Nobody can apparate that quickly, and you would have had to have seen the brooch in order to duplicate it properly."
"Why can't I have a few secrets?" Hermione asked coyly.
He paused for a second, then also placed his teacup and saucer down. "We should make a vow, not like an unbreakable vow, because fuck that. But, I think maybe we should vow to keep each other's secrets. You could easily break me, my life and ruin everything I have built here in a second by revealing to everyone who I actually am. I think that means you can trust me with anything you feel you can tell me."
Hermione considered this, and looked at him, realising that he was serious. "If...if you don't feel comfortable with me having the knowledge of you. I mean...if you ever feel threatened that I know...you know that you can obliviate me, right? I would rather have you safe, then risk the chance that others may find you."
Draco's hands flew up to stop her. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! That's not what I was getting at. You think I can't trust you? The girl who was the right hand of the golden boy who saved the wizarding world?"
"I mean, I was just saying," Hermione stumbled on her words, her thoughts racing. "You're right. I could ruin everything for you. I'm the one who came here; you have a whole life here with friends and workmates and what if I say something to someone by accident? Maybe you should just obliviate me now and get it over with?"
Draco's face held an incredulous expression. "All I meant was that you could tell me your bloody secret about the brooch." He reached out and grabbed her hand. "I don't think I can truly explain the difference you being here has made."
Hermione glanced up at him, her eyes wide and worried. "Really?"
"Hermione, you are the only person in my life now who knows where I come from. You know what I used to be like, you received the abuse firsthand in school, and you are the only person alive who knows how far I've come from that." Draco squeezed her hand slightly. "Everybody here just thinks of me as Damo, who is outgoing and happy and has always had a bit of a blessed life. But no one has really gotten to know me, because I've always held them at arm's length, worried, just like you, that I may slip up and accidentally reveal myself to them. And then what? I'd have to pack up and move away, start my whole life over again. It was hard enough doing it the once. But even saying that, I am not worried that you would betray me. And I would never, in a million years, want to obliviate you. Because, and I don't care if this sounds corny, but at this very moment in time, you are actually, kind of...my best friend, Hermione."
He took a few deep breaths and Hermione looked up to catch his eye. The steel grey of his iris glinted, and her stomach twisted painfully as his words hit her. Her lips twitched slightly, and she squeezed his hand back, joking, "If only teenage us could see us now. You would have never been seen touching a mudblood."
"You know, even back then, I actually had mad respect for you. I don't know if I'd call it a crush," he pondered. "I knew you were attractive, but in my head, you were beneath me so that part of it never really occurred to me."
"That sounds delightful. I hope that part has changed, at least."
He gave her a look. "Hermione, I am now beneath you."
She sniggered. "Oh, how I would love to say not yet, you're not and make you uncomfortable with all of the sexual implications."
He laughed out loud suddenly, having not expected her comment. "Then you would be taking my job away from me."
"Oh yes, what was it, Sexual Conquistador?"
He went very quiet for a moment, thinking. "Do you remember that time in third grade, when you punched me?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes."
"No one had ever dared to do that to me at Hogwarts before, and there you are, the golden trio's princess, giving me what for. It was that moment that I started to respect you, and had I had a different upbringing, had different beliefs, it would have been from that moment that I started to like you."
Hermione twisted in her seat to face him more directly, a shy smile spread across her lips. "I don't think I ever expected to hear that come from you. Would it be ok...if I give you...I mean, can I hug you?"
Draco blinked at her. "Would it be...did you not just hear me say that you are now my best friend? I believe that means hugs are obligatory." He let go of her hand and opened his arms wide to emphasise his point.
She reached forward, sneaking her arms around his waist and falling into him. He leant backwards and she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heart beating, faster than what it should be for resting rate, and grinned to herself, knowing her own heartbeat echoed it. She could smell the cologne he was wearing, and she took a deep breath in. He was so different from Ron. Ron was earthy and sweaty, always smelling somewhat of sandalwood and freshly mown grass. Draco was more refined, like a well-aged wine, smelling more of spices, citrus and soap. He was clean, and warm, and she felt completely safe with him. She could also feel his well-developed muscles even through their cotton shirts and was surprised at just how comfy he was to lay on.
Hermione let out a deep sigh of contentment and Draco shifted, trying to look down at her. She lifted her chin and realised just how close their faces were. He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered underneath his breath. Hermione's own breath hitched in her throat and her heart felt painfully tight. How was it possible for her to yearn for something that she once so despised?
The distance between them began to close as Draco leaned down.
Hermione stretched her neck and parted her lips expectantly.
And then her phone rang.
They both jumped frightfully and their foreheads collided heavily.
"Oh, ouch," Hermione said, rubbing hers. She sat up off Draco and stood to go find her phone.
Draco breath was coming in short, shallow bursts. He stared down at the point in the couch where Hermione had been seconds ago. He had been about to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her. He knew that he shouldn't want that though, not with them having such a good time together as friends.
Hermione re-entered the room, her phone in her hand, a look of bewildered shock on her face.
"My Dad's in hospital," she said, causing Draco to snap to attention. "He's had a heart attack."