Author's Note: Well, everyone, I kinda forgot FFN existed for a hot few months so here I am, extremely belatedly uploading these chapters. For the most up to date versions of my works and latest stories, you can always find them on my AO3 (niffizzle), but I'll continue to occasionally upload them here as well :)

Hermione made sure to get to the mess hall early. And yet, Markus, Aurel, and Julia were already at the table by the time she sat down for dinner. The two wizards chatted across from each other, and the empty seat with silverware between Julia and Markus was undoubtedly Charlie's. That left two free chairs. Two free adjacent chairs.

Hesitation must have been apparent on Hermione's frozen face, for Julia promptly popped out of her seat. "Here, let me—"

"I can handle it."

She appreciated Julia's offer—especially after their conversation over breakfast—but it wasn't necessary. Charlie was already spending so much of his weekend with Hermione, she didn't want to disrupt his ability to sit next to his girlfriend just so Hermione didn't have to sit next to Malfoy.

Draco.

It was going to take practice remembering to call him that.

One quick glance across the mess hall and Hermione spotted Charlie speaking with Doru and Llewellyn. That explained how his spot had a plate and utensils. Hermione only hoped she'd arrived early enough to still get a fully functional fork.

Remembering the spot from breakfast, Hermione located the wizard handing out tableware. The queue moved quickly as, one by one, the sanctuary workers collected the necessary utensils. When she got to the front and spotted the dwindling selection of forks, an idea sparked in her mind and seized control of her tongue.

"Can I have two?"

The wizard's irritation was immediate. "You may be a friend of Charlie's, but we have a way of doing things here."

Grumbles about the hold up chorused behind her, yet that didn't diminish Hermione's determination.

"I know exceptions have been made in the past, so surely that 'way' isn't so stringent. Just this once? For a friend of Charlie?"

He slammed a single place setting into her hands.

"No."

The queue of hungry, impatient dragon keepers pushed along, forcing Hermione to step aside the moment her grasp took hold of the plate and silverware. Staring at her acquisition of a solitary four-pronged fork, the familiar stab of failure she'd been able to evade thus far this weekend pierced her insides. Could she really not get even this right? But when she swatted through the fog of self-doubt, Hermione realised she had everything she needed for the plan to still work.

It was a simple spell. An easy one. If she hadn't been so tired the night before, she would have thought of it immediately.

"Geminio," Hermione whispered, and a duplicate fork spawned from the original.

Honestly, why every dragon keeper in the sanctuary hadn't done this ages ago was a mystery, but she wasn't going to intrude. If the dragon keepers wanted to keep complaining about misshapen forks, they could go right ahead. Their oversight served to Hermione's advantage.

Nearly every seat in the mess hall was taken by the time Draco finally arrived, frown firmly set in place.

"Bloody fucking trainees," he groused. "Hector stopped me on my way over to help him re-ward the goat pen because he forgot the spell again."

Draco dropped his plate onto the table in front of the sole remaining seat. His silverware clattered as he slammed it down next to the plate.

Hermione fought a smile. His fork had only two prongs.

"Tough luck, mate," Markus said. "But we all deal with it every once in awhile."

Draco continued grumbling, annoyance wafting off of him like scorched dragon's breath. After a full minute of his complaining, Hermione didn't say a word as she took the extra fork off her lap and placed it next to Draco's broken one.

The table's conversation promptly paused. Markus and Aurel didn't seem to believe what they saw, while Julia merely lifted an eyebrow. When Draco eventually tore his gaze from the fork to face her, he only semi-successfully hid his surprise to discover her next to him.

"That makes us even," Hermione said, chin high and grin proud.

Draco didn't thank her. She didn't expect him to. But the small spark of gratitude in his gaze and the resulting bloom of satisfaction behind her ribcage was more than ample.

He may not have actually apologised earlier, but she knew how to be the bigger person. Unlike some people, she knew how to be civil. And now, Draco had nothing for which to claim superiority over her.

Although, she did have to admit: a small, microscopic, infinitesimal part of her was pleased to have done something considerate for him without either one of them imploding.

Charlie joined them shortly after that, and the previous conversation resumed around the table. Hermione stopped listening when she felt Draco's stare directed her way. For a fleeting flicker, she feared he might say something nasty, but his face revealed no signs of antagonism.

"Just how did you manage to convince Walker to give you an extra fork?"

Hermione relished his amazement, though not inclined to divulge her secret. "Guess you could say being Hermione Granger has its perks."

"Bullshit," he huffed. "No one cares about that here. You could be Celestina Warbeck or the Minister of Magic. Walker would still only give you one fork. That's the beauty of it."

"Oh?" Hermione grabbed her cup and filled it with an Aguamenti. "Then how'd you manage three last night?"

"Easy. Sexual favours."

Hermione regretted choosing that moment to sip her water. At his jestful words, a snort bubbled inside her, and she had to cover her mouth to prevent the water from spewing out.

"So that's where you were last night instead of the bonfire."

An ever-so-slight smile stretched the corners of his lips. "You caught me."

After years of being on the receiving end of his vicious quips, it was easy to forget that Malfoy could be funny when he wasn't intentionally cruel. One joke didn't undo all that, but it was nice to laugh with him for a change.

Perhaps they'd be able to survive this weekend after all.

Dinner appeared on their plates, and Hermione and Draco joined the greater conversation, leaving behind their brief moment of levity—though not returning to their previous strained tension either. Side by side, they ate in relative peace while the group's conversation carried on the same as it had the night before: more recountings of the day's events and other various small talk, followed, as it inevitably would, by questions and theories about the dragon attacks. Only this time, Hermione's contributions were actually helpful.

"So you're telling us that you could see the attack happen?" Aurel asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Not exactly. It could only show what the person holding the object was doing, so we had to infer the rest."

Draco turned to Charlie. "What about Gabriel? What does he have to say?"

Creases formed on Hermione's forehead. "Gabriel?"

"That's the keeper who alerted me about Viscer's low blood levels," Draco explained. "He's one of our younger keepers. Just graduated from Beauxbatons last year. He said he had neglected his routine vitals checks earlier that day and was trying to get them all done before dinner."

"When are vitals usually taken?"

"First thing in the morning," Julia answered. "Right after the dragons' systems have been able to replenish overnight."

Hermione processed the information, tucking it away to record in her notebook after dinner. "So if Gabriel arrived in the clearing just before dinner, that gives us an approximate timeframe for the attack, assuming that's what startled the culprit. With how far keepers Apparate from the dragons, that would have given the culprit plenty of time to hide in the surrounding trees."

Draco didn't look convinced. "Or the disturbance could have been literally anything else and we have no idea when the attack happened."

It was certainly a strong possibility. But that didn't give them any leads.

Charlie sighed. "We could keep speculating all we want, but these are just guesses. Doru, Lewellyn, and I already spoke with Gabriel and recorded what he said he saw. They also have the glass shard Hermione found for evidence. Hopefully, come Monday, we can turn it all in to the Aurors who will investigate further."

From the way Charlie dug back into his meal, it seemed that was the last he had to say on the matter. In his defence, most of his day had centred around the attacks. He was likely tired of them talking in circles.

Julia steered the conversation to plans for them to go into the nearby wizarding town tomorrow evening for Hermione's last night while Hermione only half listened. Under other circumstances, she would have wanted to be more involved in the planning, but it wasn't as though she knew any of the restaurants and pubs in Verdell. Besides, her mind was a tad too preoccupied with other, dragon-centric thoughts.

And when her eyes slid to the pensive look on the face of the wizard next to her, Hermione knew she wasn't alone.

...

After the revelations of the day, Doru assigned Charlie as the lead of that evening's night patrol. Hermione offered to help, equal parts desirous to spend the time with Charlie and eager to make sure the dragons remained safe, but he rejected the offer. Said it would be the perfect opportunity for Hermione and Julia to have "quality time" together.

Hermione hid her disappointment. She knew Charlie and knew his priorities. The dragons came first. They always did. And Hermione respected that. She just wasn't thrilled about the proposed alternative plan.

Her entire essence ached to uncover more about the dragon attacks. Ask other keepers what they knew. Explore the grounds for additional evidence. Listen, observe, do something. But without Charlie's guidance and most of the keepers already settled into their respective cabins for the night, that didn't seem like an option.

So instead, Hermione compelled herself to set aside thoughts about the attacks. Focus on getting to know the witch who clearly meant a lot to Charlie. After all, she had come to the sanctuary to have fun. Relax.

That was easier said than done.

Even once inside Julia's cabin, her musings drifted every handful of mind-scattered seconds. Where in the sanctuary were Urso and Nevarth attacked? Something about Julia coming from a large family like the Weasleys. After the culprit had taken the blood, what were they doing with it? A hum of agreement about something Hermione hadn't even registered. Was the culprit obtaining the heavy sleeping draught from a shop or were they brewing it themselves?

"You aren't listening."

The questions rattled from Hermione's brain as she startled back to the witch in front of her.

"Sorry, I— I didn't mean to let my thoughts wander like that."

Julia lifted her wand and two butterbeers levitated from the storage space beneath her bed. Once they landed on the table, Julia placed a Chilling Charm on both bottles and outstretched one to Hermione.

"I get it," she said. "I'd also rather be out there trying to protect the dragons."

Hermione twisted off the cap. "Then why aren't you on the night patrol with Charlie?"

Julia huffed out a humourless snort. "That's a leadership decision." She knocked back her butterbeer and took a long sip before setting it down on the table. "But enough ruminating about the attacks. It's not as if you're going to be able to figure out who did it tonight anyway. And while you're still here, I want to actually get to know the witch Charlie deems his second sister."

She scooted her chair closer, and any doubts or concerns Hermione had about Julia after their morning conversation soon shrivelled to the background. The more they talked, the more Hermione realised how blunt Julia was about almost everything—not just her opinions about Malfoy. Draco. And come their third butterbeer, the dragon attacks were a distant consideration, blocked entirely by the laughter swelling inside Julia's cabin.

Hermione gawked at her in disbelief. "How in Merlin's name can a dragon keeper be scared of heights?"

"It's not as though it comes up often. I'm fine as long as I'm on the ground, so the mountains don't bother me." She shrugged. "It's more of a flying thing."

"That I can understand," Hermione said. "I take it that means you don't join Charlie for any of the sanctuary's pick-up Quidditch matches?"

Julia snickered. "Most certainly not. I'm perfectly content with watching. Been rooting for the Mangalia Manticores nearly all my life, though they haven't had a good Seeker since they lost Dimir back in '96." She took a sip from her butterbeer. "Who's your favourite Quidditch team?"

"I know it's an unpopular opinion, but I'm not a massive fan of Quidditch."

"Really?" Julia looked surprised. "I just assumed that you'd have to be in order to date Viktor Krum."

An instinctive warmth spread up Hermione's cheeks. She should have known Viktor would come up eventually.

"I think that's what Viktor liked about me." Hermione reclined in her seat, releasing a simultaneous sigh. "So many people fawned over him because of his fame, but it was never like that for us—regardless of what rubbish you may have heard or read about me that year."

Julia wrapped her fingers around her butterbeer, their soft pattered, progression along the curved glass the sole sound in the cabin for several seconds.

"I was quite aware of who you are prior to dating Charlie," Julia confessed. "Beyond dating Krum." The drumming continued for three more beats then stopped. "Yes, everyone knows Harry Potter, and Charlie is obviously biased towards his own brother, but I've always been the most intrigued by you. I saw enough of you during my time at Hogwarts to know you must have been the brains behind most of it." Her expression twisted. "But of course, Harry Potter gets all the credit."

Hermione's cheeks flared hotter. "I certainly helped, but if it wasn't for Harry—"

Two knocks on the cabin door stopped Hermione before she could complete the thought, though the wizard who stepped in would have been equally effective at stunning her silent.

"Sorry to interrupt." Draco's features remained flat as his eyes fell to where Julia and Hermione sat. "But I'd like a word with Granger."

The muscles in Hermione's back instinctively tightened, mere habit by his very presence more than anything else. She surveyed Draco, trying to find any indication of his purpose for wanting to speak with her, yet his visage revealed nothing.

Julia settled a glance towards Hermione, her question unspoken, the same as her challenge.

You okay with speaking with him? Are you going to speak with him?

Hermione stayed seated, mind churning. She couldn't conjure any reason why she shouldn't. Still, she was sceptical. They'd managed a grand total of two successful interactions so far, yet that didn't mean either of them would voluntarily seek out conversation with the other.

Unless he wanted something.

That intrigue alone made Hermione not object.

After thanking Julia for the butterbeer and bidding her good night, Hermione followed Draco outside. Several feet remained between them as they ambled onto the moonlit land. She expected him to stop shortly past Julia's cabin, but Draco kept walking until they were a couple of hundred feet into the nearby woods, blocked from others by dense tree trunks.

His eyes skirted the surrounding area and then landed back on Hermione.

"All right, Granger," he said in hushed tones despite no one else being within earshot. "You and I both know something isn't right here. And as much as it pains me to say, I need your help."

Just as she suspected: he wanted something.

She folded her arms against her chest, not quick to submit.

"Don't you have other people here you can manipulate into helping you?"

"This isn't manipulation. It's an appeal."

"Still doesn't answer why you're asking me."

"I saw you at dinner," he stated, words plain and crisp. "You're aching for answers just as much as I am. We need results, and you know how to get them."

Hermione huffed. "Careful there. That almost sounded like a compliment."

Thin strips of moonlight caught Draco's resolute gaze. He didn't argue otherwise—a fact that made her insides knot, though not out of trepidation. It was simply strange to hear him say something about her anywhere in the vicinity of remotely nice. Then again, Draco had a motive. Anything he said right now merely served his purposes.

She played along anyway.

"And what makes you so certain I can help?" Hermione asked when Draco said nothing new. "You already heard everything I discovered at dinner. Regardless of how much I'd like to get to the bottom of this, I don't know these grounds or these dragons as well as you do."

A pale eyebrow arched. "Since when has not knowing something stopped you from learning it?"

Hermione faltered. He knew perfectly well that didn't stop her!

But that didn't mean she wanted to learn with him.

Draco stepped forward, expression guarded but intent. "Look, Granger. You're here visiting Charlie. Fine. If you want to enjoy your holiday without getting wrapped up in this, go right ahead. That's certainly your choice. But that's not the Hermione Granger I know. Or are you no longer that witch who was so passionate about magical creatures that you tried to take on my fathers five solicitors in order to try to save that hippogryph?"

She snapped to her own defence. "You mean the same legal case you were such an arrogant prat about that I slapped you?"

"A slap I very much deserved."

Hermione took everything back. That was the most unbelievable thing he had said all weekend—even if he was still trying to convince her to help him. Never did she think she'd hear Draco Malfoy admit that he had been wrong about something, particularly when it meant Hermione had been right.

With each new interaction, Draco peeled back another antagonistic layer, revealing a less callous version that left Hermione more surprised than the last. Yet the shock of his most recent reveal quickly subsided when a sinking feeling settled into the lowest depths of her stomach.

Draco had no idea how close to accurate he had been in his assessment of her.

Only close, though.

At its core, the sentiment wasn't true. She was passionate about magical creatures. Or at least, she was in theory—until she remembered why she was at the sanctuary in the first place.

Piles of rejected proposals. Meeting after dead-end meeting. Countless demands. Not enough funds. Not enough time.

And then there was the news she'd gotten last week.

Did she still care for magical creatures? Yes. That part of her would never change. But the bureaucratic rubbish surrounding her passion had extinguished the fire that had driven her so ardently as a young witch.

Except…

That spark wasn't out.

She'd felt it again, earlier that day. The rush of being out in the field. Of actively helping a magical creature. A chance to do some good in the world. Right here, right now, she had the opportunity to do exactly what she'd been failing to do at work.

She'd be foolish to pass it up—even if it did mean dealing with Malfoy.

Draco.

Draco. Draco. Draco.

Godric save her, if she was agreeing to this, then she'd really have to remember to keep calling him that.

Hermione breathed in deep, steeling herself for whatever came next. "So what do you have in mind, Draco?"

Success brightened his features, and the tension Hermione only noticed once it dissipated escaped his shoulders.

"Where does an investigation always begin?" he asked in answer. "Research, of course."

From one pocket, Draco revealed three books which he charmed back to regular size. He stretched them out to Hermione, and she took them into her hold. The top book was a detailed description of Common Welsh Greens, the second appeared to be a training overview for new keepers to the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, and the last was a guide to caring for Antipodean Opaleyes. Hermione selected the training overview and started to leaf through it, curiosity already piqued.

"Predictable as always. Give Granger a book and she'll get lost in it for hours."

She slammed the cover shut. "Is that not what you intended?"

"Oh, it is," Draco replied, a smug smile creeping up his lips. "Doesn't make it any less entertaining."

He closed the remaining space between them and reclaimed the training overview. "This is what every keeper gets on their first day here. Should answer any general questions you have about our practices. If Common Welsh Greens are the ones being targeted, you better know more about them. Beyond the basics."

He placed the training overview back on top of the book stack, and Hermione pressed the pile into her chest.

"And the one about Antipodean Opaleyes?"

"Consider it a peace offering. To sate your interest from earlier."

The tightness with which she gripped the books lessened.

She peered down at the pages she knew she'd be up half the night reading and then back up at Draco—unable to discern any sign of games or ulterior motives.

A sincere peace offering.

Another breath in, a deep breath out.

"Thank you."

"You can thank me by finding anything of value I may have missed," he returned, tucking his hands back into his pockets. "We can discuss it during my first round of check-ins tomorrow after breakfast. Charlie will have to sleep after doing the night patrol anyway." A glint of moonlight reflected in his gaze. "Besides, there's something I think you should see before you leave."

Hermione eyed him expectantly. "Are you going to give me a hint?"

Draco glanced at the books cradled in her arms as a small smirk revealed itself. "I think your brain will have enough to mull over tonight as is."

He made it three steps towards the cabins before he looked back at her from over his shoulder.

"Don't stay up too late, Granger."