Authors Note: I've been slogging away trying to get this chapter finished and it became MUCH bigger and longer than I anticipated, so I'm splitting it into two parts. I'm hoping to get Part Two finished by next week at the latest. Please leave me a review if you enjoy, or if you don't, I love getting feedback either way :-) And now...onto Part One!

Chapter Eleven - Part One

Hermione drew in a ragged breath. Her chest gurgled and rattled with the effort. She opened one eye blearily, but the room was dark. The inky blackness pressed against her eyes like the thick curtains drawn together in a theatre. She was not alone though; she could hear faint shuffled movements nearby. Her wrists ached terribly, the rope tying them together behind her as she sat on a hard, metal chair rubbed harsh, red rashes along her skin.

"We know you have information," a deep, male voice said. "You don't have to be in pain. We could take away all of your pain if you just tell us."

"Bite me," Hermione replied savagely, spitting on the floor.

A lamp flicked on, shining a direct beam straight into her face so that she was blinded. She recoiled from the harsh sudden change; her eyes having been adjusted to the dark making the light even more brighter than necessary. She blinked hard, trying to dispel the black spots in front her irises when she closed the lids. A figure moved in front of the light; she could make out the shape of a person hovering feet away from her.

"You have no loyalty to the Australian Ministry." They continued, their tone could have been easily mistaken as persuasive, but Hermione knew better than to listen. "Tell us what you know and we will set you free."

"I know nothing." Her head lolled forward; her body too weak to continue holding it up. There was a pause, the person tilted their head as if listening to someone whisper in their ear. Then they turned back.

"We know the Ministry is hiding someone, someone who should have died long ago." The figure took an ominous step forward. "Tell us who they are."

Hermione felt a panic rip through her, but at the same time her resolve strengthened. "I...know...nothing."

"Very well," the voice said, before turning away and barking instructions. "Get the Veritaserum."

48 hours earlier.

"Come on, faster!" Dave yelled, pacing the length of the boxing ring, watching the occupants inside. "Dodge, Hermione! Use that elbow. Jab, jab, twist – yes!"

Hermione listened to his instruction as she moved gracefully, twisting her body around to avoid a flying fist and jabbing her elbow into her opponents' side. They had been sparring more frequently over the past two weeks, with the matches becoming longer and bloodier as the days went on. Her body was covered in bruises, scratches, aches and pains, but she felt stronger for it. Without the pleasant distraction of Draco, who was still on his mission, Hermione threw herself into training. She was the first to arrive and the last to leave, using her extra time to tape her hands and spend hours punching and kicking the boxing bags, harnessing her accuracy until it had become deadly. She was turning her body into a weapon. She no longer felt that she would be useless without her wand, that she now had the ability to protect herself. When she was fighting, her mind became clear, her thoughts washed away with the perspicacity to foresee her opponents next move and counteract them.

Dave continued yelling directions, and Hermione could tell that Jess, her current challenger, was tiring out quickly. Just let me finish this, Hermione thought to herself as she avoided a clumsily thrown right hook. She caught the fist between her two arms, twisted her grip and wrenched, pulling Jess forward. Jess lost her footing and crashed onto the mat, rolling onto her back, gasping for air.

"Dave, can we stop?" She panted, her eyes rolling backwards from exhaustion. "I can't...I can't go on."

Dave seemed to be lost in a focused reverie, his attitude over the two weeks had become more and more stoic the closer they got to the final exams. He no longer smiled, just snapped commands and yelled critiques. He flicked his gaze to the clock on the wall and nodded.

"Yeah, it is getting late," he conceded. "Let's call it a day."

Hermione's mouth melted into a satisfied smile, as she panted and wiped her sweaty forehead against the cloth of her t-shirt on her shoulder. She offered her gloved hand to Jess, who took it gratefully and hoisted herself back onto her feet.

"You have gotten so good," Jess breathed heavily, patting Hermione on the back. "There's no way you're going to fail day after tomorrow. You're going to smash those exams."

"Thanks Jess," Hermione said. "Are you nervous?"

Jess raised an eyebrow and her expression morphed as she gave a strained laugh. "Duh. I'm going to give it my best shot, but there's only four positions and at least six people better than me."

Dave grunted behind them and muttered quietly, "Says you."

"What was that?" Hermione asked, turning around in fake surprise. "Did...did you just compliment someone, Dave?"

"Oh no," Jess said, gripping Hermione's arm in mock alarm. "Someone call the hospital, Dave is sick!"

Dave rolled his eyes. "Oh shut up."

The girls laughed, pulled their gloves off, and climbed through the ropes bordering the boxing mat. They jumped onto the arena floor and Hermione walked over to nudge him. "Two more days, Dave, and then you don't have to worry about how disappointing any of us are."

"Until the next round of initiates," he said, a familiar gleam returning to his eye. "I can tell you one thing, I'm going to get absolutely hammered this Saturday when it's all over."

"I'll join you!" Jess said, laughing again. "I'm going to hit the showers, I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Seeya Jess," Hermione said, waving goodbye. She turned to Dave. "Do you want help packing up?"

Dave gave her a look and pulled his wand out. "Look, just because I teach you how to fight like a muggle, doesn't mean that we have to clean up like muggles."

He waved his wand and muttered a few spells. The boxing gloves, mats and pads were suddenly shining clean, now free of sweat and blood, then floated lazily upwards and put themselves neatly away in the nearby cupboard. Hermione drew her wand out as well, flicking it to turn the lights off.

"You make me feel like such a muggleborn sometimes," she joked. "I always forget that I could do things magically first."

"I know you do," Dave said, his mouth twitching in amusement. "But that could work in your favour. Wizards would never expect a 'punch first, jinx later' approach in an attack."

Hermione snorted, as they began to walk towards the exit. "Yes, it may work well, until they remember that they have a wand and hex me before I get close enough to punch them."

"Still," Dave continued, closing the blinds on the windows as they walked past. "First thing a wizard will do to you is disarm you. Run towards them while they're trying to catch your wand and they won't see it coming."

"Did Chief teach you that?" Hermione glanced at him. She had become quite fond of all of her instructors while she had been training under them and felt they were very close to being considered friends.

Dave barked a short derisive laugh out. "No, I taught him that. We trained together when we first became agents and I used that move against him in a duel. He dropped like a stone, all seven huge feet of him. Remember this, the bigger they are, the harder they fall. Poor Rizzo had a massive egg on his head for days."

"I'll definitely keep that in mind," Hermione said. They walked through to the foyer and closed the gymnasium door. "I've been meaning to ask you. Are you ok? I feel like you're stressed about more than just our exams."

Dave paused, and Hermione stopped next to him. He shrugged and gave her an apologetic smile. "I know I've not been any fun lately. I mean, the exams are stressful, even for me because how well you do reflects on how well I've taught you. But...I'm also worried about Damien."

Hermione tried to ignore the jolt she felt in her chest when she heard his name. She swallowed thickly. "Still no news on him?"

He glanced sideways at her. "You know I can't-"

"Yes, I know, classified." She sighed heavily. "I just wish I knew he was ok."

Dave looked around the foyer to check for eavesdroppers. Finding none, he leant in close to Hermione's ear. "Look, I'm not meant to say anything, but the mission has gone on longer than expected. He should have been back by now. He missed his last contact drop, which is never a good thing. That's why I've not been myself, because it should have been a standard mission for him."

Hermione felt the colour drain out of her face at his words. "What does that mean? Is he missing?"

"Not necessarily," Dave held up a hand as he spoke to stop her from panicking. "It just means that he might need more time to contact us. We know he's alive, we keep a tracker on him that would alert us if something fatal occurred. He was retrieving something for us, a missing piece of evidence that could solve the murder of the daughter of one of our diplomats."

"Evidence? What kind of evidence?"

"It's a magical artifact, very well sought after, and the only one of its kind," Dave revealed, speaking in undertones. "It allows the user the ability to see a memory of anyone, alive or dead, as long as they have something of that person from the time. It's called the Memoria Gem. As soon as we have it, they'll lock it up in the underground vault we have here."

Hermione's heartbeat had slowed a little when she heard he was alive, but then Dave's words processed in her mind and she frowned in concern. "Should you be telling me any of this?"

"Absolutely not," Dave said, shaking his head in the negative. "This is completely classified. I could get in so much trouble if they find out I said anything, but there's no other way for me to explain to you why I'm worried."

"Oh god," Hermione said, gripping her head with her hands. She had worked very hard not to get herself into a panic over the last two weeks. Every night had been difficult, and the hardest part was the not knowing. Not knowing if he was alive, if he was safe, if he needed help. She couldn't believe that a man that she had grown up hating had made such an impact on her in such a short amount of time, but there she was, pining over her new best friend and wishing he would just pop up on her doorstep with his big goofy smile and two coffees to start their day together. She had propped the plush sea turtle he had won out of the skill tester machine on her bedside table and found herself staring at it during the hours of twilight where sleep was far away, and her only companion was the nagging voice in her head telling her something was wrong.

"Hey," Dave said, interrupting her thoughts by placing his large, warm hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. "Chin up, Hermione. Tuck the worry away, you know how to now. Freaking out now will not help anybody, ok? I promise I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything."

"Thanks Dave," she replied meekly, dropping her hands and breathing deeply as she closed her eyes. Focus, focus, focus. With a few more breaths, she reopened her eyes and nodded decidedly. "Ok, I'm alright."

"There's a girl," Dave said, this time smiling at her. "Go get showered and head home. You'll need to be alert tomorrow for the last day of training."

The one place that Hermione had felt any sense of peace, to get away from her thoughts and vivid imagination, was the roof space on top of her apartment building. The stairs opened up to a communal garden, rows of lusciously green native plants and flowers bordered the otherwise paved area, with an ornamental water feature in the corner. Hermione felt like it was her own private oasis when she disappeared up there for her evening session of Kata. She kicked off her shoes as the door to the stairs swung closed behind her, cast a muggle repeller charm and then walked to the centre of the square. The city was alive with the white noise of cars and people and it was a symphony to her ears.

Very slowly, she stretched her neck, bowed low, then got into fighting stance. She focused on her breathing, in and out, in and out, in and out. She clenched her hands into fists and brought them in front of her, her arms straight and stiff. Her movements were slow, yet precise, and she arched her arms upwards, crossed them in front of her then down again. She released her fists and did the same movement with open palms. She moved with grace, her limbs shifting continuously as she went through each careful step, each direct jab, each powerful kick. She was so engrossed by the peaceful dance that she didn't hear the small pop behind her. After a few moments, an impressed male voice spoke out.

"You've improved."

Hermione jumped so hard that she almost fell over. She clutched a fist to her heart as she spun around. Draco stood a little way away, looking the worse for wear. He had a deep bruise on his collar bone, his hair hung loose and unwashed, his chin now home to a weeks' worth of growth.

"Draco!" Hermione almost cried out with relief. She ran and launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, not noticing the stray tear that rolled down her cheek as she did so. "Oh, it's so good to see you."

"Things I never thought I'd hear Hermione Granger say to me," Draco said, echoing her words from when they first had lunch together, then winced and made a hissing sound of pain. Hermione made to move backwards, but he quickly roped his arms around her, pulling her back into a hug. "Oh no, you don't. I may have a few broken ribs, but that won't stop me from missing out on this."

He buried his face into her shoulder and breathed heavily, inhaling her scent like it was oxygen and he was starved for it. Hermione gasped, "Broken ribs? Draco, why haven't you gone to the hospital?"

He said something, but it came out mumbled as he spoke into her shoulder. She gave a small snort and he pulled his head up a little bit, resting his forehead on hers. "I don't have much time. They'll fix me up when I get to HQ, but I'll probably be in debrief for Merlin knows how long and...and I wanted...I needed to see you first."

"Geez, that means you must have missed me, or something," Hermione said in a joking manner, but her eyes glistened over at his words.

She felt his chest vibrate in silent laughter. "Or something."

Hermione brought her hands up to his face and caressed his jaw line gently, her eyes searching his face. His expression was so raw with emotion that it felt like someone had taken a knife to her heart. She whispered to him, "Are you ok?"

"Not nearly, but I'm better now that I'm here," he said. "It's like I've had withdrawals from a drug; you have gotten under my skin, Granger. I can't seem to shake you out of my thoughts, even on mission. Normally I'm the first to volunteer to go and do something for fun, but this time..." His silver eyes bore into hers, trying to convey through sight alone what he was trying to say with words. "This was the first time on a mission, I wished I was home...with you."

Butterflies erupted in her stomach, filling her with sweet flutters, and Hermione breathed heavily, drinking in his words. They stared at each either for a few intense seconds, the air thick between them, before she threw caution into the wind, wound the collar of his t-shirt around her fingers and yanked him to her. Their lips met in a hesitant, brief kiss, but the sparks she felt were instantaneous, as if she were kissing a live wire. The butterflies tickling intensified and Hermione forced herself not to swoon. Draco pulled back sharply, seemingly stunned, his eyes round with surprise, and Hermione swallowed thickly, a sudden pang of fear of rejection shot through her. It was only mere milliseconds that passed, but it felt like years to her before he raised a hand and cupped the side of her face, a grubby thumb stroking her cheek in small circles. He leant down, brushing his lips against hers again. His lips were warm and softer than she anticipated, and as she responded to him, his mouth moved with gradual intensity until Hermione felt dizzy, still clinging to his shirt. He poured every emotion he had felt, all the loneliness and yearning he had endured over the last two weeks, into that kiss and Hermione felt it like electricity, small tremors buzzed raced along the length of her nerves. She snaked her hands upwards and into his hair, bringing him closer still. Their bodies pressed hard against each other as they entwined themselves into a passionate embrace, the world fading away around them. Draco deepened the kiss, darting his tongue to meet hers. Hermione then gently nibbled on his bottom lip and he let out a small sigh. They parted, panting slightly and gazed into each other's eyes, still captivated by the shared intimacy that they felt they could see straight through to each other's bared soul.

"I missed you too, Draco," Hermione told him breathlessly. Her heart thumped like a drum in her chest and a small smile tugged at her lips. His own mouth turned upwards and he stroked her hair, tucking loose strands behind her ear.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, sincerely. Hermione blushed crimson, thinking of her standing in front of him in workout clothes, probably smelling of grimy sweat and body odour. He kissed her again, this time very softly, and Hermione felt herself melt. He pulled back reluctantly and stepped back. The cool air hit her abruptly and she whimpered involuntarily. Draco's face coiled into a pained expression and he looked sorry. "I have to go. They're expecting me and it was a pretty big risk that I stopped here."

"Thank you for coming," Hermione said, her face resonating his, as she wrung her hands together. "You have no idea how worried I've been."

He flashed her a small, sad smile. "Consequence of the business we're in, unfortunately."

"Will I see you again soon?" Her words were almost hopeful, but she tried to sound neutral.

"It depends on the debrief. I have a bit to go through, as well as getting fixed up. I'm hoping they release me in time for the exams, so I can see how you perform."

Hermione nodded. "Ok...I guess, I'll see you when I see you."

"I'll see you when I see you," Draco repeated. He gripped his wand, ready to apparate.

"Wait!" Hermione cried, dashing forward and crashing her lips to his once more. He returned her kiss hungrily, his hands gripping her hips and drawing her close to him again. She ran her hands over him, trying to touch every inch of him, to memorise him. The world spun around them wildly until they both felt lightheaded.

Draco broke the kiss, panting again. "Tell me to stop," he said against her lips, pleadingly.

"I don't want you to stop," Hermione replied, her tone wistful. She ran her tongue over his bottom lip and felt him tremble beneath her fingers.

"I really have to go," he said, resting his head against hers again. "I promise, I'll see you soon."

Hermione stepped back begrudgingly. "Goodbye, Draco. Good luck with the debriefing."

He gave her a wink, spun on the spot, and was gone with a pop. That was the benefit of having the agency training, learning how to apparate almost silently. Hermione was frozen, staring at the spot that Draco had just left. She brought two fingers up to her lips, now slightly swollen, and she sighed. She could still feel him if she closed her eyes. Her thoughts were scattered, half of her still in disbelief about what had just happened, the other half jumping for joy. Her stomach did a strange little flip whenever she had thought about Draco, and she knew now that what she was feeling was more than just a rebound. Her feelings for Draco had grown stronger over the two months she had spent in Australia until she could no longer deny that there was something there. To know that he reciprocated what she felt made her want to fly, or scream from the rooftop, or just tell...someone. She crossed the roof space to where her shoes were, having also left her mobile phone there. She dialled a number and waited as the other end rung.

There was a click.

"Hullo, Harry speaking," the voice of her best friend answered.

"Harry," Hermione said, her voice raspy. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Harry, it's Hermione. Sorry to call you like this...but is Ginny there?"

"The first time I've heard from you in weeks and you call to talk to my wife?" Harry scoffed. "Thanks Hermione, I feel so loved."

"Harry, you sound stressed. Are you ok? Everything ok at work?" Hermione asked, sounding earnest and a little bit worried. She was curious to see how he answered her, now that she knew what he did for a living.

Harry sighed. "Just bad wizards doing bad wizard things."

"Must be difficult being an Auror," Hermione said.

"Mmm, yes, being an Auror is hard."

Hermione struggled not to smile. Now that she knew the truth, she could hear the lie in Harry's words. He had never been very good at hiding things from her, and she didn't know how she hadn't picked up on his tone before. "Make sure you take a holiday soon, spend time with the kids."

"Lily said her first word yesterday," Harry said, a smile now in his voice. "Ginny was convinced she'd say Mama first, but...get this...she said bollocks."

"No she didn't!" Hermione laughed. "Where did she hear such language?"

"Oh it was from R...just someone." Harry stammered when he realised he was about to mention Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's ok, Harry, you can say Ron's name around me. I'm not going to freak out or anything. Did he tell you I owled him?"

"You mean you giant wedge-tail eagled him," Harry chortled. "That massive bird arrived while we were in the office and caused a bit of a wreckage. But he didn't tell me what was in the letter."

"Ooh..sorry about that. I wanted to make sure I chose a bird that could make the trip," Hermione explained. "Anyway, not that he needs it or anything...but I pretty much gave him my blessing and forgiveness and said he'd make a good dad."

There was a pause. "You are too good for this world, you know."

"Too good for Ron, you mean," Hermione laughed. Harry snorted, but didn't say anything. "Anyway, I can chat to you another time. Right now, I need my pseudo-sister, is she there?"

"Is everything alright with you?" Harry questioned, his voice a bit alarmed.

Hermione bit her lip, trying to contain her excitement. "Oh yes, everything is great with me. I just need to do some gushing girl talk, and as much as I love you, you're useless at that."

"Right, understood," Harry said. "I'll go find her, hang on."

There was movement on the line, Hermione could hear Harry opening and closing a door and making his way through their large home. She could hear the laughter of children and little footsteps and she felt the painful tug in her chest that she normally did when she thought of them. She loved her niece and nephews more than anything, but they were a tender reminder of the life she didn't have with Ron. Harry called out for Ginny and after a few exchanged sentences, Ginny answered the phone.

"Hermione, I hear there's gossip to be discussed," Ginny gushed, just as Hermione had hoped she would. Ginny moved away from the noise of the kids into a quieter room. "Don't spare the details, which dashing Australian man is it?"

"Hello Ginny," Hermione said, smiling widely. "I just had to tell someone. There's this guy at work, his name is Damien, and we hit it off straight away. I actually knew him years ago and he was such a jerk then, but he's changed so much."

"How many years are we talking here? What kind of jerk?" Ginny asked, in a 'give me all the juicy details' kind of voice. "And what made him change?"

Hermione remembered Draco's advice, keep your lies close enough to the truth so that you remember them and they're more believable. "The last time I saw him was about ten years ago, and he was raised the same way as many of the death eater children were – that pure bloods were superior. He suffered a change of heart when he lost his family. The difference in him is just incredible."

"Are you sure you can trust him?" Ginny sounded sceptical. "He sounds a bit like Malfoy used to be."

Hermione snorted a laugh. "You know, he was with me when you guys called me last time and Harry said he sounded just like Malfoy then too. Maybe there's something to that."

She squirmed in amusement.

"So, you've been working with him then? And he's different?"

"Yeah, it's strange, I feel like we just get each other, you know? He's mentioned a few times that he's disgusted with how he used to act and now he's just...so smart and funny and..."

"And downright sexy, am I right?"

Hermione giggled like a school girl. "You have no idea."

"Ok, I'm trying to get a picture in my head here. Paint him for me."

"He's tall," Hermione began. "Sophisticated. Slim, but muscular. Not too muscular, but more like, athletic. He's got a swimmers body, right down to the abs."

"You've seen his abs?!" Ginny almost squealed. "Hermione you've been holding out on me!"

"No!" Hermione laughed. "Well...yes and no. It was an accident."

"What, did you accidentally walk in on him naked or something?"

"No, we have these unisex change rooms," Hermione said.

"Interesting," Ginny said. "Go on."

"It really doesn't matter, I just...crashed into him as I left the shower. Nothing happened then."

"So you copped a feel," Ginny goaded. "Good on you. If I could wolf whistle, I would."

"Anyway," Hermione said, a little louder than before. "He's got a strong jawline, shoulder length blond hair that he usually keeps tied up in a low ponytail."

"Ok, now I'm imagining young Lucius Malfoy and things just got even more interesting."

"Eww, Ginny!" Hermione cried, but then considered that she probably wasn't far off. "No where near as peaky looking. Dr-Damien has dirty blonde hair anyway. Oh, and he's got tattoos."

Ginny didn't notice Hermione's near slip up, and Hermione internally sighed with relief when her friend continued talking. "Yes, tattoos! Now you're selling him."

"So we've been hanging out a bit and he had to go away for work for two weeks."

"At some point, you'll have to tell me what the work is, but please continue."

Hermione pondered that, realising that she hadn't thought about a cover story yet. "Well...he's just stopped past my apartment. He only just got back from his trip and he said that he missed me and that I'm beautiful...so...I kissed him."

Hermione had to hold the phone away from her ear as Ginny let loose an ear-splitting scream.

"Woooo, that's my girl!" Ginny was singing. "Hermione and Damien, sitting in a tree."

"Ginny, I have to tell you, it felt like nothing I had ever shared with Ron," Hermione confessed. "Kissing Ron was..."

"Sweetie, I love you, but if you describe how my brother kisses at all, I will be forced to send you a hexed letter."

Hermione laughed. "I was just going to say, it was nice but tame. Kissing Damien, it was like every fibre of me was suddenly alive."

There was a long pause and Hermione began to wonder if Ginny was still there, when she finally spoke. "You found it. The fireworks, the spark. Hermione, this is what has been missing from your life for the past decade. Only you and him can change this spark into a flame."

"That's...almost poetic for you, Ginny."

"I remember the first time Harry kissed me," she said. "And, sure, we were surrounded by fifty people, who were all cheering us on, and everybody was excited because we'd won the Quidditch game. But it was like, nothing else mattered. Everything else just disappeared, and there was only Harry and I and it was like lightning. When you find that, you need to hold onto it."

"That's beautiful, Ginny," Hermione murmured. She looked at her watch and gasped. "Oh my goodness, it's gotten so late, I've got to get going. I've got an early morning tomorrow."

"Aww, bummer," Ginny cooed. "Well, give me another call once you've shagged him and we can cross notes then too."

"Ginevra Potter!" Hermione exclaimed, appalled.

"Oh, don't be such a prude!" Ginny's haughty laughter cut off abruptly with a click.