Pansy should not wear heels. At three in the afternoon, she had stumbled twice in the presence of her guests before tossing the slips aside and walking barefoot through the rich, Persian carpet.

"Drinks?"

Hermione and Harry watch as she serves half a bottle of whiskey to the carpet before allowing Harry to help. Four glasses wait with their mouthes open. She released her spell and the bottle collapses as it hits the floor and scatters into a million shards.

"I wouldn't have ended it- through murder I mean," she says as she sinks into the chaise. "Blaise knew about Crabbe and I. Not that he gave a shit"

"Blaise is the main suspect. You know he has a clear motivation," Harry probes.

"He isn't shit. Ask him who he was with the night Vinny was murdered. Ask him! One of those sluts from the society, probably the blonde one.

"Vincent and I, we wanted to run away you know. He had called me the night he was murdered and he sounded so excited. Says he won a very important prize and we would have enough money to run away together. Oh Vinny."

After Vincent Crabbe was found piked inside the bakery, the Zabini family become the clearest targets for suspicion. However after an hour, all Pansy confessed to was becoming wasted before lunch and laughing uncontrollably at her clumsiness.

"Where's your handsome friend? The bartender from the Country Club?" she asked, forgetting she was just crying over her dead lover.

Snape had been in a mood today. He apparated alongside her and Harry in complete silence, but not before Harry brought up the Rose Garden Incident and Snape muttered an off-handed comment about the wrongdoers orientation. Hermione interjected, after which he gave them both silent treatment and disappeared upstairs right after being greeted by the maid at the doorstep.

Now Hermione had been looking for any traces on the victim's clothing and shoes that might connect the man to the murder. The mere sound of Snape rusting through the drawers in the adjacent room grits at her nerves.

"Get the other jacket."

"She's been nicking money from the charity society." Snape produces a pile of cheques and records.

"We don't have a warrant to look there!"

"You following the rules are exactly why you are brown-nosing her husband's closet while Harry is out there questioning the suspect and getting all the credit. At least bury your nose into something useful."

Hermione found herself handling what appears to be the Zabini's cheque book for their charity (The Hippogriff Society). She absorbs the numbers on the page calculating the differences between multiple columns before Snape's figure loomed frustruation.

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Hardly."

"Then go away. Unless you want to apologize?" He chose the first option.

After what seems like ages, the numbers merge into one giant swamp inside her head. Snape was probably used to measuring quantities of ingredients in his class and catching students who nicked his supplies, but him breathing down her neck in an already tense situation was testing her patience.

"Don't you find it unusual that the book was so easy for me to find? Almost as though it was left for us."

"Why would Blaise want us to find his illegal dealings?"

"Not Blaise."

She scoffed. "Why would Pansy want her husband arrested? They're both co-owners of the charity. Its in her best interest to keep any illegal dealings a secret. I'd need to take these home overnight to check-"

"-because you're looking at them the bloody wrong way. Parchments look like they've been recently replaced, even the ones from twenty years ago." He holds the papyrus up to the light to notice they had no signs of fray or spills.

"Maybe they decided to update."

"Update? Blaise could hardly keep track of his finger by the knife, nevermind such meticulous matters like rewriting documents. This whole room looks like it's been charmed to St. Mungo's level of cleanliness unlike the rest of their house. They're hiding evidence. And there is no chance they could afford these apartments with the income from their little charity. I know Zabini and Parkinson are both too bloody lazy to have anouther job."

"I'm taking notes anyway to examine them at home."

"You'll find what I says you'd find."

"First, your theory is just a hypothesis. Second, I need to check the information-"

"-you wanted my help-"

"THIRD, he might be-"

"-they're all the blood- same. Zabinis, those fisted types. His father was greedy and his son a carbon copy-"

"Sorcerers can change."

"Unlikely." His gaze now aiming directly at her. "You're still the most maddeningly insufferable-"

"What?" Fuming in anticipation, she waits for a moment longer for his reply. Whatever opinion of her he formed in his mouth was swallowed. Threat subsiding, she snatches the parchment out of his fingers and replacing it on Blaise's desk. She turns to exit when she noticed Snape putting the book back into his coat lapel.

"In case you really doubt my expertise, not that I needed to prove myself after years of work as a double agent for the Dark Lord-"

"-which was almost thirty years ago." .

"You are getting on my last nerve Granger."

"I've just about had it with you too! Guardian Devil you are, you're a judgmental prick and as far as I'm concerned you've had a bone to pick with me since the day we met."

"Shame?" Now immersed in her personal space, their breaths link. "Living when your friends are either dead or in prison, knowing nothing you will ever do will repay your debt. Wishing they were alive instead off you. You know what this feels like?"

"Stop."

"What more? You will never amount to anything because you are emotional, weak, too naïve and idealistic for your own good. You did well on your tests and you think you deserve to be recognized for your efforts. Forget it. Wizards like you. Like me. We will always be scum in the gutter. So don't try to shame me Granger."

"Wizards like me are the reason the Ministry is still running. And if you hadn't been such a coward-"

"Don't you dare-"

"Stop interrupting me. If you had stayed and put your talents into the industry we would be closer to solving cases. But all you want is to live in some ideal little cottage and have nothing to do with the world at large."

"I've payed my dues."

"But you could do so much more. With your talent, your experience. Think of all the people you would be helping."
"Do you want to know the truth Granger? People don't give a shit about what you do for them. They forget it and often, they don't even thank you. And you spend your entire life trying to help and none of it matters."

"But you don't help people for recognition. You do it because it is the right thing."

"The right thing? For whom? As far as I'm concerned, the right thing would be for me to sit in my cottage without a bother in the world. Without bothering anyone. And I don't expect you to understand."

Draco, Harry and one intoxicated fabulous Pansy stumble into a scene that would mark their minds. In the office, Hermione and Snape are intertwined tightly in a passionate embrace.