"Norwegian Wood"
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and even that is inspired by a song.
Chapter 1
"Hermione, Ted wants a word with you." Hermione Granger's assistant rolled her eyes as she set down the telephone receiver. "He's got a new case for you."
"Already? I've just gotten back! This is ridiculous." Hermione grumbled as she stood up and headed to her boss's office with her clipboard. She wound her way through the desk and offices of her fellow detectives, occasionally receiving a "Hello!" or "'Morning!" She eventually reached the large office in the corner of the building and stormed through the door.
"Ted, this is ludicrous!" Hermione said upon entering the office. "I can't work on another case until I've had a couple days of rest. I'm sorry; get someone else to do it." She then proceeded to leave the office, assuming she had settled the matter. She was sorely mistaken.
"Well, hello to you too, Granger. I trust you had a nice flight?" Hermione glared in his direction.
"No, in fact, it was awful. Screaming children everywhere, it was a mess. Anyway, I know that you don't really care how the trip was, so just get to the point so I can go home and go to bed." She plopped down in a large armchair in front of Ted's desk. The office was by far the best in the building. Sporting a wonderful view of downtown London, it was comfortable and homey. Hermione had always admired the office much more than the man in it.
Ted only pretended to look offended for a second. He then realized that Hermione could see right through his false expressions of care and decided to, as she said, 'get to the point.'
"Alright, here are the facts. An entire family was found dead yesterday. Apparently, they all dropped dead at exactly the same time, from no apparent cause. This is not something that one finds every day. This family was not very powerful is any way, and none of the people in it appeared to have jobs, yet they lived in a nice apartment a few blocks from here. We can't find any other relatives to ask questions, and no one in their neighborhood knew them at all. Things do not look good." He paused, looking over his glasses at Hermione, whose heart had just skipped a beat. She frowned, trying to act puzzled, when in fact she knew exactly what had happened.
"Do we know anything? What are their names?" She asked.
"Yes, their last name is Potter. Harold, Sophie, and their child, Holly." Ted paused, noticing that Hermione had turned very pale and was sitting perfectly still. "Er... Hermione?" At the mention of her name, Hermione was startled out of her trance.
"Sorry, I started thinking of something else. So, the Potters are dead... no apparent cause.... Any suspects?" She asked, taking mental notes as she spoke. Ted opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small photograph. He reached over the desk and handed Hermione a picture of a young man wearing sunglasses, who was looking at an old apartment building. "Who and where is this?" she asked, examining the photo.
"That is Dameon Miller. Not much is known about Mr. Miller, but he was seen several times standing outside the Potters' apartment complex, which is the building you see there." Ted watched as Hermione looked at every detail in the photograph, taking everything in. Hermione was known for her noticing of the smallest details in a case. Details that sometimes led to answers.
After a while, Ted decided to risk it. "Are you interested?" Hermione sighed dramatically. Taking one last glance at the picture in her hands, she looked up.
"Yes. These murders are intriguing, and it is only out of my interest for the case that I am taking this up at all." She glared at Ted warningly. "I want to work on my own, and I don't want you pestering me at regular intervals. All I ask is that I deal with it on my own, otherwise you can find someone else." Hermione wasn't usually this bold with people, but she had known Ted for several years now, and knew that if she didn't make things clear from the start, she'd never solve anything. Ted smiled.
"Fine, it's up to you. Normally I'd want you to have a partner for safety reasons, but..." One glance from Hermione told him he shouldn't bother. "Since it's you, I'll let you do it on your own. Let me know what's going on once in a while, okay?" Hermione stood up and headed for the door.
"If you insist." She muttered, reaching for the doorknob.
"Oh, and Granger? Dameon Miller's staying at the Dickensian Inn down the street. He never seems to be in his room, though. We haven't been able to contact him. Good luck." Ted said, typing something on his computer.
"Thanks." Replied Hermione half-heartedly.
*****************************************************************
Draco Malfoy (a.k.a. Dameon Miller) was walking rapidly down the street, closely followed by a tall, muscular man wearing a hooded sweatshirt. Though the street was crowded with people of all different types, Draco's follower stood out among all of them because of his height. Draco looked nervously over his shoulder to find that the man was gaining on him. 'Fuck!' thought Draco as quickly turned a corner and began to sprint down an alley. Just as the tall man turned the alley corner behind Draco, Draco came across a fence that was blocking his path to the main street. 'Oh great.' Thought Draco as the tall man began jogging in his direction. 'Just fucking great.'
Draco quickly took a look around him. There seemed to be only one possible way to get out of the alley. Draco gulped as he looked up at the fire escape of a large apartment building. Without attributing much time to think, Draco leaped up and grabbed onto the rail of the rotting fire escape, pulling himself to a standing position on the second story landing. Draco then continued to race up the stairs as fast as his legs would allow.
The tall stranger following Draco, upon seeing what Draco was doing, accelerated, and began sprinting to the fire escape, where Draco was fast approaching the fifth floor.
Heart pounding, Draco ran faster than he believed he was capable of, finally reaching the roof, which, thankfully, was deserted. Draco only hesitated a second, looking down at his fast-approaching stalker, before disapparating to the safety of his hotel room.
*********************************************************
Throwing his jacket on the armchair, Draco walked slowly to his bathroom. Looking in the mirror, Draco took off the sunglasses he wore everywhere these days... for protection.
Draco examined himself in the mirror for a moment. Had he not known he was looking in a mirror, Draco would have guessed that a complete stranger was standing before him. His deep gray eyes were the only feature that remained of his old appearance. Now, his hair was brown and his face was much thinner than it had been before, though he had never been overweight. Draco shrugged to himself and turned away from the mirror, seeing a sight he certainly hadn't expected.
*************************************************************
Hermione, after getting together all of her stuff, said goodbye to her officemates and left the office building. She headed immediately for the Dickensian Inn about five blocks down the street, where she parked and locked her small car. She headed into the old building, taking in everything around her, as usual.
"Excuse me, I need the key to Dameon Miller's room." Hermione told the woman at the reception desk.
"I'm sorry, miss. Are you a relative of Mr. Miller's?" Replied the woman in a polite voice.
"No."
"Then I'm sorry, but you'll have to ask Mr. Miller for the key."
Hermione, sick of this boring conversation, quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge. "I'm Detective Granger of the London Police Department. I need to see Mr. Miller's room key, please."
The woman looked at Hermione's badge for a moment before turning around in her swivel chair and reaching for a key on the rack behind her. Looking at Hermione skeptically, she slowly gave her the key. "Third floor, Detective Granger."
"Thank you. Is Mr. Miller in right now?" Hermione asked, taking the key and putting it in her pocket along with her badge.
"No, I haven't seen him come in yet." The woman replied, still staring at Hermione suspiciously.
"Thanks. If he does come in, do not tell him that you gave someone else a key to his room." With that, Hermione walked briskly towards the staircase at the far end of the lobby. She then climbed to the third floor, which was eerily quiet. Walking down the long corridor, Hermione pulled the old- fashioned key from her pocket. Looking down at the key, she saw that the number 313 was etched artfully along the edge. Upon reaching room 313, Hermione listened carefully through the door to see if anyone was inside. Satisfied, she inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly and quietly.
Hermione entered the room and quickly closed the door behind her. She looked carefully around the room, trying to memorize every aspect of it for later reference. Stepping over piles of clothing that had been carelessly thrown on the floor, she headed towards a wooden desk in the corner. As she was rifling through the pile of letters and papers on the desk, she heard a loud POP! behind her.
Extremely startled, Hermione dove for cover behind a nearby bookshelf. Peering through the books curiously, Hermione saw a young man with brown hair and sunglasses throw his coat on the chair next to the desk. 'Where the hell did he come from?' Hermione asked herself. She heard the man sigh and head towards the bathroom.
'It's now or never.' Thought Hermione, creeping as softly as possible from behind the bookshelf. She quickly reached for the gun in her pocket, drawing it and pointing it at Draco just in time for him to turn around and see her looking determinedly at him.
***************************************************
Draco turned and saw a young woman aiming a gun at him. She had brown, curly hair tied back in a high ponytail. She wore all black clothing, and her jacket had a police department patch on the left arm. Her large brown eyes were seemingly looking right through Draco, and her stare made him uneasy. 'What the hell do the police want?' Draco wondered angrily. "Who the fuck are you?" He asked Hermione.
"My name is... Her--" she paused, thinking over everything that had just happened in her mind. "Heather. Heather Grant. I'm a detective with the London Police Department. I'm investigating the Potter family murders. Do you know anything about them?" Hermione kept the hand with the gun in it steady, though she was liking this method of interrogation less by the second.
"No, I haven't. Who are the Potters?" Draco asked, hoping against hope that it wasn't who he thought.... Another Potter family maybe?
"Harry, Sophie, and Holly Potter. Do you know them?" Hermione prayed that the department was right about this. If they weren't, she would be in a serious mess.
As soon as Draco heard what Hermione had said, he slowly closed his eyes and clenched his fists in anger. Lucius Malfoy had a lot to answer for. "Yes, I've heard of them." He said after a moment. He slowly stepped closer to Hermione, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them out by his sides; the universal symbol of 'see I'm not armed; you win.'
Hermione slowly lowered her gun, still looking Draco in the eye, searching for any useful hints. Draco noticed her movement, and was thinking as fast as possible about possible ways of escape.
"How did you get in here," asked Hermione, "I didn't hear you open the door...." She squinted suspiciously at Draco.
Draco suddenly realized that he was in more trouble than he originally thought. How could he explain the apparition? He couldn't. Not to a muggle. Especially a muggle in the police force. Draco only thought for a moment before deciding on a plan of action. In a fraction of a second, Draco reached into his pocket, drawing out his wand and aiming it at Hermione, whispered, "Obliviate."
Hermione, caught off guard, was hit suddenly with a powerful spell that made her lose her balance and fall on her back. She was immediately hit with a wave of unconsciousness, making her fade into an uneasy blackness.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot, and even that is inspired by a song.
Chapter 1
"Hermione, Ted wants a word with you." Hermione Granger's assistant rolled her eyes as she set down the telephone receiver. "He's got a new case for you."
"Already? I've just gotten back! This is ridiculous." Hermione grumbled as she stood up and headed to her boss's office with her clipboard. She wound her way through the desk and offices of her fellow detectives, occasionally receiving a "Hello!" or "'Morning!" She eventually reached the large office in the corner of the building and stormed through the door.
"Ted, this is ludicrous!" Hermione said upon entering the office. "I can't work on another case until I've had a couple days of rest. I'm sorry; get someone else to do it." She then proceeded to leave the office, assuming she had settled the matter. She was sorely mistaken.
"Well, hello to you too, Granger. I trust you had a nice flight?" Hermione glared in his direction.
"No, in fact, it was awful. Screaming children everywhere, it was a mess. Anyway, I know that you don't really care how the trip was, so just get to the point so I can go home and go to bed." She plopped down in a large armchair in front of Ted's desk. The office was by far the best in the building. Sporting a wonderful view of downtown London, it was comfortable and homey. Hermione had always admired the office much more than the man in it.
Ted only pretended to look offended for a second. He then realized that Hermione could see right through his false expressions of care and decided to, as she said, 'get to the point.'
"Alright, here are the facts. An entire family was found dead yesterday. Apparently, they all dropped dead at exactly the same time, from no apparent cause. This is not something that one finds every day. This family was not very powerful is any way, and none of the people in it appeared to have jobs, yet they lived in a nice apartment a few blocks from here. We can't find any other relatives to ask questions, and no one in their neighborhood knew them at all. Things do not look good." He paused, looking over his glasses at Hermione, whose heart had just skipped a beat. She frowned, trying to act puzzled, when in fact she knew exactly what had happened.
"Do we know anything? What are their names?" She asked.
"Yes, their last name is Potter. Harold, Sophie, and their child, Holly." Ted paused, noticing that Hermione had turned very pale and was sitting perfectly still. "Er... Hermione?" At the mention of her name, Hermione was startled out of her trance.
"Sorry, I started thinking of something else. So, the Potters are dead... no apparent cause.... Any suspects?" She asked, taking mental notes as she spoke. Ted opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a small photograph. He reached over the desk and handed Hermione a picture of a young man wearing sunglasses, who was looking at an old apartment building. "Who and where is this?" she asked, examining the photo.
"That is Dameon Miller. Not much is known about Mr. Miller, but he was seen several times standing outside the Potters' apartment complex, which is the building you see there." Ted watched as Hermione looked at every detail in the photograph, taking everything in. Hermione was known for her noticing of the smallest details in a case. Details that sometimes led to answers.
After a while, Ted decided to risk it. "Are you interested?" Hermione sighed dramatically. Taking one last glance at the picture in her hands, she looked up.
"Yes. These murders are intriguing, and it is only out of my interest for the case that I am taking this up at all." She glared at Ted warningly. "I want to work on my own, and I don't want you pestering me at regular intervals. All I ask is that I deal with it on my own, otherwise you can find someone else." Hermione wasn't usually this bold with people, but she had known Ted for several years now, and knew that if she didn't make things clear from the start, she'd never solve anything. Ted smiled.
"Fine, it's up to you. Normally I'd want you to have a partner for safety reasons, but..." One glance from Hermione told him he shouldn't bother. "Since it's you, I'll let you do it on your own. Let me know what's going on once in a while, okay?" Hermione stood up and headed for the door.
"If you insist." She muttered, reaching for the doorknob.
"Oh, and Granger? Dameon Miller's staying at the Dickensian Inn down the street. He never seems to be in his room, though. We haven't been able to contact him. Good luck." Ted said, typing something on his computer.
"Thanks." Replied Hermione half-heartedly.
*****************************************************************
Draco Malfoy (a.k.a. Dameon Miller) was walking rapidly down the street, closely followed by a tall, muscular man wearing a hooded sweatshirt. Though the street was crowded with people of all different types, Draco's follower stood out among all of them because of his height. Draco looked nervously over his shoulder to find that the man was gaining on him. 'Fuck!' thought Draco as quickly turned a corner and began to sprint down an alley. Just as the tall man turned the alley corner behind Draco, Draco came across a fence that was blocking his path to the main street. 'Oh great.' Thought Draco as the tall man began jogging in his direction. 'Just fucking great.'
Draco quickly took a look around him. There seemed to be only one possible way to get out of the alley. Draco gulped as he looked up at the fire escape of a large apartment building. Without attributing much time to think, Draco leaped up and grabbed onto the rail of the rotting fire escape, pulling himself to a standing position on the second story landing. Draco then continued to race up the stairs as fast as his legs would allow.
The tall stranger following Draco, upon seeing what Draco was doing, accelerated, and began sprinting to the fire escape, where Draco was fast approaching the fifth floor.
Heart pounding, Draco ran faster than he believed he was capable of, finally reaching the roof, which, thankfully, was deserted. Draco only hesitated a second, looking down at his fast-approaching stalker, before disapparating to the safety of his hotel room.
*********************************************************
Throwing his jacket on the armchair, Draco walked slowly to his bathroom. Looking in the mirror, Draco took off the sunglasses he wore everywhere these days... for protection.
Draco examined himself in the mirror for a moment. Had he not known he was looking in a mirror, Draco would have guessed that a complete stranger was standing before him. His deep gray eyes were the only feature that remained of his old appearance. Now, his hair was brown and his face was much thinner than it had been before, though he had never been overweight. Draco shrugged to himself and turned away from the mirror, seeing a sight he certainly hadn't expected.
*************************************************************
Hermione, after getting together all of her stuff, said goodbye to her officemates and left the office building. She headed immediately for the Dickensian Inn about five blocks down the street, where she parked and locked her small car. She headed into the old building, taking in everything around her, as usual.
"Excuse me, I need the key to Dameon Miller's room." Hermione told the woman at the reception desk.
"I'm sorry, miss. Are you a relative of Mr. Miller's?" Replied the woman in a polite voice.
"No."
"Then I'm sorry, but you'll have to ask Mr. Miller for the key."
Hermione, sick of this boring conversation, quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out her badge. "I'm Detective Granger of the London Police Department. I need to see Mr. Miller's room key, please."
The woman looked at Hermione's badge for a moment before turning around in her swivel chair and reaching for a key on the rack behind her. Looking at Hermione skeptically, she slowly gave her the key. "Third floor, Detective Granger."
"Thank you. Is Mr. Miller in right now?" Hermione asked, taking the key and putting it in her pocket along with her badge.
"No, I haven't seen him come in yet." The woman replied, still staring at Hermione suspiciously.
"Thanks. If he does come in, do not tell him that you gave someone else a key to his room." With that, Hermione walked briskly towards the staircase at the far end of the lobby. She then climbed to the third floor, which was eerily quiet. Walking down the long corridor, Hermione pulled the old- fashioned key from her pocket. Looking down at the key, she saw that the number 313 was etched artfully along the edge. Upon reaching room 313, Hermione listened carefully through the door to see if anyone was inside. Satisfied, she inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly and quietly.
Hermione entered the room and quickly closed the door behind her. She looked carefully around the room, trying to memorize every aspect of it for later reference. Stepping over piles of clothing that had been carelessly thrown on the floor, she headed towards a wooden desk in the corner. As she was rifling through the pile of letters and papers on the desk, she heard a loud POP! behind her.
Extremely startled, Hermione dove for cover behind a nearby bookshelf. Peering through the books curiously, Hermione saw a young man with brown hair and sunglasses throw his coat on the chair next to the desk. 'Where the hell did he come from?' Hermione asked herself. She heard the man sigh and head towards the bathroom.
'It's now or never.' Thought Hermione, creeping as softly as possible from behind the bookshelf. She quickly reached for the gun in her pocket, drawing it and pointing it at Draco just in time for him to turn around and see her looking determinedly at him.
***************************************************
Draco turned and saw a young woman aiming a gun at him. She had brown, curly hair tied back in a high ponytail. She wore all black clothing, and her jacket had a police department patch on the left arm. Her large brown eyes were seemingly looking right through Draco, and her stare made him uneasy. 'What the hell do the police want?' Draco wondered angrily. "Who the fuck are you?" He asked Hermione.
"My name is... Her--" she paused, thinking over everything that had just happened in her mind. "Heather. Heather Grant. I'm a detective with the London Police Department. I'm investigating the Potter family murders. Do you know anything about them?" Hermione kept the hand with the gun in it steady, though she was liking this method of interrogation less by the second.
"No, I haven't. Who are the Potters?" Draco asked, hoping against hope that it wasn't who he thought.... Another Potter family maybe?
"Harry, Sophie, and Holly Potter. Do you know them?" Hermione prayed that the department was right about this. If they weren't, she would be in a serious mess.
As soon as Draco heard what Hermione had said, he slowly closed his eyes and clenched his fists in anger. Lucius Malfoy had a lot to answer for. "Yes, I've heard of them." He said after a moment. He slowly stepped closer to Hermione, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them out by his sides; the universal symbol of 'see I'm not armed; you win.'
Hermione slowly lowered her gun, still looking Draco in the eye, searching for any useful hints. Draco noticed her movement, and was thinking as fast as possible about possible ways of escape.
"How did you get in here," asked Hermione, "I didn't hear you open the door...." She squinted suspiciously at Draco.
Draco suddenly realized that he was in more trouble than he originally thought. How could he explain the apparition? He couldn't. Not to a muggle. Especially a muggle in the police force. Draco only thought for a moment before deciding on a plan of action. In a fraction of a second, Draco reached into his pocket, drawing out his wand and aiming it at Hermione, whispered, "Obliviate."
Hermione, caught off guard, was hit suddenly with a powerful spell that made her lose her balance and fall on her back. She was immediately hit with a wave of unconsciousness, making her fade into an uneasy blackness.