Author's note:

As the maybe 3 people who have read part of my story thus far may have guessed, this is my first attempt at a fanfiction. I just finished up my masters degree and have a little more time to dedicate to this. I've been thinking about this story for about a year now and decided it was time to write it. Since my only real writing experience has been healthcare related, writing a mystery/romance story is invigorating! I'll be honest, this is going to be incredibly slow going, but once I start something, I don't abandon it. So this story will be finished or I will die trying.

Chapter 3:

Hermione woke slowly. First she noticed that the dress she was wearing last night had hitched up to her waist and the shoulder straps falling down either side of her shoulders. Her hair, which had been expertly, and magically, styled was now partially plastered to one side of her face with the rest of it seeming to be more bush than hair.

Snapshots of the previous festivities went through her mind before she dared to open her eyes and face the day. Ron breaks up with her, standing by and letting it happen, and breaking the heel of her Jimmy Choos on her way back in. There goes her only pair of fancy shoes that she had ever owned. Silly that she was more fixated on the stupid shoes than her eight year relationship with ron gone sour. They were still friends. They always would be. But it would be weird for a while.

Growing up in tumultuous times had made her heart either never fully grow, or never fully heal. She couldn't really tell. Ron's presence had been a constant. Harry fell into Ginny more enthusiastically than ever after the final fight. Their love had never been questioned. Just delayed for a while. Her and Ron had seemed to fall together by default. Their relationship just assumed rather than really meant to be.

Finally risking opening her eyes, Hermione sat up and gazed around her room. Tidy as always with the exception of the broken heel and disheveled bed she lay in now. Not to mention she probably looked slightly insane as well. Glancing at her clock she noted it was 6:45 a.m. Even on a weekend Hermione kept a strict schedule for herself. Glaring at the time again, she decided that a nearly decade long relationship ending was a perfect reason to have a lie in. Throwing her extra throw pillow at the clock for good measure, Hermione lay back down and drifted into an uneasy slumber.

Draco's smile was one that couldn't be tarnished by anything. He was working the Grotto case. These are the kinds of cases that made careers. After Granger stormed off, he spoke with Dan about the details of the case. Since both him and his unwilling partner were considered young in the profession, they would be answering to Sterling Williams, the senior detective in the department. He was terrifying. He reminded Draco of Mad-Eye-Moody with less scars and more limbs.

Williams had been offered the promotion to lead at least 10 times. One time he actually accepted and promptly stepped down exactly one week later. He was meant for the field. Working with people wasn't exactly his strong suit. Draco felt a sort of kinship towards him. He himself had never been a real people person. Though he could get what he wanted through school with the proper amount of brown nosing, he never enjoyed it. Sometimes he thought that particular trait had only ever come to him because his deplorable father had brought him along on every business venture he ever did. It was like osmosis from there. Sicko father creates sicko son by association.

It was thoughts like this that sent his mind toward his left arm. The worst mistake of his life. The dark mark branded on his skin for life had been more out of fear than anything else. The night he was branded, he was only 16. His father had said he was so proud. He had never experienced pain like it before. He suspected that the Dark Lord, no, Voldemort, had riddled the spell with the cruciatus to ensure maximum pain during the branding. He forced himself to think the name of the wizard that took his youth from him.

It was that night that his mind had been set. He approached Dumbledore the first day of term and told him everything. Dumbledore had lost the twinkle in his eye for a moment and Draco had never been more terrified than in that moment. He was sure he had met his demise. Dumbledore would kill him here and now and ensure he did it painfully. He was more alarmed by this dotty old wizard than he ever had been of Voldemort. Then the twinkle returned and the plotting of the Dark Lord's downfall had begun.

Draco shuttered and shook the disturbing images from his mind. He started walking toward William's desk. They would have to wait for further plans until Granger stopped throwing her tantrum, but they could get the preliminaries rolling and he'd leave a note on her desk for tomorrow. They'd suffer through this assignment together, both get advanced in their careers, and never have to speak to one another again. With this thought in mind, he conjured a stool and sat with Williams to begin strategizing.

It was 1 p.m. when Hermione finally woke up coughing and pulled a large hair from the depths of her mouth. Gagging further she raced to the bathroom to brush her teeth and spit out any remaining hairs that may have taken up lodging.

"Well, at least I won't have to floss," Hermione thought morbidly deciding her rampant hairs had done the trick themselves. Not even bothering with her hair, she stumbled from her room to pour herself a bowl of cereal. She had just settled herself into her normal chair when she looked up to find Skylar staring at her in horror.

"What?" Hermione asked, fear prickling in here that there may be someone just behind her ready to hex her. Shaking that off, she reminded herself, yet again, the reign of Voldemort was finished.

"Your hair," Skylar began before Hermione cut her off.

"Skylar, you have been my roommate for 4 years-" Hermione began exasperation laced in her voice. "-my hair is borderline deranged and always will be."

Undeterred by her tone, Skylar continued,

"Your hair looks like a tornado ran through it. If I could do magic, I'd probably 'evanesco' it." Skylar twitched her mouth into a smirk forging ahead, "It would probably put both you and your hair out of its misery."

Hermione had always had a love hate relationship with her hair. Yes there were many that could pull off the bald head thing, but she'd magically tried it once, and her head shape was not conducive to the hair style. Waving Skylar off Hermione turned back to her bowl of cereal lest it become soggy. Her biggest pet peeve, soggy cereal. That along with unsharpened pencils, though that went away when she found out she was a witch and began using quills, and other people chewing gum.

"I will never get rid of my hair," Hermione straightened up to her full height. Which at 5' 6" was a good half a foot taller than her diminutive roommate, "and you'd best get used to it. If you'd like, I could start collecting the pieces that fall out and make you a fashionable rug."

This sent both girls into a fit of laughter that lasted a good few seconds until Hermione remembered why her hair was in such a state. The table fell into companionable silence but her black cloud still rained on her. She didn't really want to talk about the break up, but she knew herself well enough that when she felt this way, she needed to talk more than ever.

Gathering her courage, she put her spoon down and said,

"Ron and I broke up last night."

She didn't look up to meet Skylar's gaze since she knew that Skylar liked Ron and Hermione together. She often commented on how she was going to be kicked out soon since we'd be married in a jiffy. The extra room that was hers would be a child's room in a matter of months. Since that day never came, the comments died down. Just as she decided to look up a giant force collided with her left side causing her to tumble from her chair and onto the floor.

"What in the world?" Hermione exclaimed so surprised that the tears threatening to spill over vanished in a heartbeat.

Skylar had tackled her and now had her embraced in a bear hug so tight Hermione had to struggle to breathe. How was such a tiny person so capable of such amazing feats of strength.

"I'm so sorry Hermione. That really sucks." The simple reassurance that her roommate was on her side and able to comfort her in her own weird way made Hermione feel a rush of affection she saved for only the closest of friends.

Resting her head back down onto the ground and leaning into Skylar's weird embrace, the tears came full force.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful. Hermione spent most of it cleaning up around her apartment, going to dinner with her roommate, and spent a few hours crying on Harry's shoulder. He had been kind enough to extricate himself from Ron to check on her. Apparently Ron was a mess too. They didn't talk much but Harry did suggest that maybe Ron needed a few weeks of space before they did anything together again. He was sure that they would be back to friends in no time. Hermione wasn't so sure how this new relationship dynamic would go, but Harry was practically her brother and nothing could stand in the way of that.

Feeling a little better by Monday, she woke with a sense of purpose. She was going to solve this case with her nightmarish partner if it killed her. Dead or promoted. Seemed like a good deal. Dressing in her typical clothing of white blouse and black trousers she pocketed her wand and headed out for the day. Skylar had already been gone that morning leaving a little note of encouragement along with a snickers bar, her favorite muggle candy. Gosh she loved her roommate.

She was almost in a good mood when she got to work. She even saw that Malfoy wasn't at his desk and thought he might have given up on his career to avoid her. Fine by me! Hermione thought and she trotted off to her desk. As she arrived, the weasel stood up out of her chair and gave her his world famous snear.

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

A few seconds passed with a stare off between the two. Hermione felt a little undermined due to the height disparity. Draco surpassed six feet easily and glared down at her.

"Fine." Hermione gave in. "Let's get started."

Pushing him out of the way, she sat in her chair and conjured up the most uncomfortable chair she could think of for Malfoy and they spent the morning planning with the information that Malfoy had gotten from Dan and Williams. By lunch time, they both felt they had a reasonable plan of action. They decided they would spend the afternoon on their own reviewing the case information and come together again tomorrow morning to review and decide who to question first.

Hermione was grateful for the reprieve as she watched her temporary partner sidle back to his desk. He always walked like he owned the room. It was infuriating. Even when he was hired, he walked to his desk like he was the head detective. Some called it confidence. Hermione knew from her days with him in school that it was all cockiness shrouding a scared little bully on the inside.

She realized she hadn't ever spent that much time alone with Malfoy before. She needed to get rid of the metaphorical slime that rubbed off on her. Even now she wanted to wash her hands. Sometimes a scourgify wasn't nearly as satisfying as a wash bin and a bar of soap. Recalling the moment when he had excitedly reached over her things and grabbed a quill at the exact same moment she had, their hands had touched. Both of them jumped back without so much as an apology from either. Their single second of camaraderie had dissolved and they were back to their icy demeanors.

"Tomorrow is going to suck." Hermione groaned and she rested her head into her hands, unruly curls hiding her face and half of her desk as she did.