A/N: I've had this kicking around for a while and finally decided to post it! Listen, it takes a tiny bit of mental gymnastics to fully justify a Dramione relationship, so I try my best to handle it realistically and with nuance but some of it you just have to go with. Most likely you found this by searching #Dramione anyway and are on board, but if you're like me, you need to see the work of how they got here. Hopefully I've done it justice!

Currently rated T for Tease, sexual content alluded to but not outright depicted. If the mood strikes me, I may do a campion piece of a B-side with all of the Butts.

Posting a batch up front and then hopefully maintaining a regularish schedule because all of those unfinished fics tell me that's the only way my work gets finished.
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"Mornin' roomie," came Draco's bored drawl as Hermione crossed the doorway of the cramped office. She had barely taken her eyes off the parchment in front of her, they had been kept busy by a couple of Aurors who had triggered dark magic traps in an old Death Eater nest. The report detailed the response to their latest treatment, it wasn't going well.

"I told you not to call me that," Hermione placed the stack of books from St. Mungo's library down on her side of the L-shaped desk. Office space was tight, and neither Healer Granger nor Healer Malfoy were senior enough to get more than the half-a-broom cupboard they currently occupied. At first, when they were shown their assigned desks upon being chosen for the highly competitive Anti-Dark Arts Residency, she thought it was a sick joke. At least they'd learned to tolerate each other during their trainee days several years ago, though their banter never went away. "Have you gone to check on Jones this morn-"

Hermione stopped mid-sentence as her eyes landed on her officemate's desk. "Malfoy, what the hell is that?"

Draco sipped on his takeaway cup from the downstairs coffee cart, "Butterbeer Frappuccino, it's disgusting, but the barista said it was her favorite and I said, 'well if it's your favorite, I'm sure it'll be my favorite too,' and then she giggled so I knew we were making progress…"

"Not the pathetic excuse for a morning coffe, the salamander!"

He looked at the small glass habitat sitting on his desk next to a stack of papers and several books. A sad, slightly sickly-looking salamander with large, protruding fangs, curled up under the heating lamp.

"Oh! Gary!"

"Gary?!" she sputtered, "Draco Malfoy, I swear to God if that is the Death Eater breeding experiment that Jones and Hayden found during the raid and you've decided to keep him, you won't have to worry about the damn thing biting you, I'll kill you myself."

With a wave of his hand, he shooed her away from Gary's case, "I'm surprised at you Granger, I thought you'd be a little more welcoming to our new friend. Aren't you always saying all creatures deserve respect?"

"That doesn't mean I want to share my office with them! Bad enough I have to share with a creature like you."

"Wow," he stood up, a smirk coming across his face, "d'ya hear that Gary? I guess we're 16 again."

"Please stop talking to the salamander and please be careful with him. We don't know what sort of horrible things they did to him and how he might react if he feels threatened." She took a breath, "look, I know you're just trying to help and you have a bit of a thing for downtrodden creatures but he could be really dangerous."

Malfoy just chuckled, sprinkling some niblets from a bag into the habitat and covering the enclosure back up. "A thing for downtrodden creatures? Takes one to know one, Hermione. C'mon, we're going to be late for rounds."

She huffed but followed him out of the office and to the Mediwitch's station. It wasn't untrue, Hermione had gotten so used to taking care of everything and everyone that it had become second nature to her after the war. It's why she became a healer, aside from the fact that her parents had always wanted her to become a doctor when she was a kid. Her instinct made her a good one. But it took its toll on other parts of her life, her friendships, her relationships. It was one thing to be the mum-friend, an entirely another thing to feel like an actual mum to your friends. Not that they loved it either, Ron had said that exact thing once in a bad row that went entirely too far. He wanted a girlfriend, not another mother.

One of the upsides to being a healer, it forced her to stay in the moment. There was no space for errant thoughts of her love life or how she always was taking care of everyone else or how it no longer felt strange when Draco Malfoy called her Hermione. Even better when there was a case like this, the effect of dark curses were hard to identify and even harder to treat. She spent any free moment in her favorite place, the St Mungo Hospital library, pouring over any possibly relevant book she could think of.

By the time the day was done, close to midnight, Hermione was happy to slump home to her little London flat. Her flatmate, Ginny Weasley, was off in Bulgaria on an away quidditch match, so she expected the townhouse to be dark and quiet. In truth, the only reason she pulled herself away from the hospital was the mandated rest hours...and a particular book on her bookshelf from Dumbledore's personal library that she thought might be helpful.

Surprisingly, as she came through the door, she found a fire burning and Harry Potter waiting on her sofa reading the month's Quibbler. He looked up and stood to hug her as she put her cloak and bag up on the hooks.

"What're you doing here?"

"Warm welcome, it's good to see you too," he said with a chuckle. "I fed Chrookshanks by the way."

"Thank you, and I just meant Ginny isn't here. She's in-"

"Bulgaria, I know. I actually came to see you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she nodded for him to follow her into the kitchen. Pulling a couple of hard butterbeers from the coolbox she sucked in a breath, "you never come to see me."

Dammit. That came out harsher than she intended. She could see it in the way he flinches ever so slightly.

"Sure I do!"

"I just mean, usually when you come by, it's for Ginny."

"I come to see you too!" He gave her an earnest smile and she let it go, taking a seat at the kitchen table and waiting for him to explain why he was here. Harry took a big swig of his butterbeer and sat down next to her. "I've just come from the Burrow."

Hermione groaned, "oh Merlin, if this is about Ron…"

"It's not," he said quickly, "it's uh, it's about Ginny."

"Right," she laughed, trying to not sound bitter at him for making her run in a circle to end up in the same place. She softened her smile, "so did you get Grandma Weasley's ring?"

He blushed and reached into his pocket, pulling out a little velvet box. Sheepishly he handed it over to her and she snapped it open. It was gorgeous, one Goblin-forged diamond on a delicate gold band. Hermione knew Ginny's grandmother had left it specifically to her, though Molly held onto it for safekeeping.

"She'll love it. When are you doing it?"

"Wednesday. We're going to dinner and I...I don't know. That's as far as I've gotten. I'm real nervous, Hermione."

"She's going to say yes. You've been talking about it for a year now."

He sighed, "I know she will. But I'm… I dunno. I want it to be perfect for her. She deserves so much after everything…"

Hermione reached over and squeezed his hand, "just tell her how you feel. That's all she needs."

Harry nodded, "thanks, Hermione. You know Ron's going to come in for the-"

"I thought we weren't talking about Ron."

"Right. Sorry."

Two days later, Hermione woke up to a piece of parchment on the kitchen table. In Ginny's messy handwriting sprawled:

"ENGAGED.

At Harry's, may not be back tomorrow either."

Hermione laughed to herself, at least they chose to go to Harry's instead of keeping her up all night. Luna's distinctive pygmy owl arrived with an invitation to their engagement party on Friday. By the time she got to work, she was floating on that residual joy. That was, of course, until she got to her office and found Malfoy hunched over his files and book spread so far they encroached on her desk space.

He looked up at her, the dark circles under his eyes implying he'd taken work home as well. That wasn't surprising, Draco struggled with insomnia as long as she had worked with him.

"Something's not right."

"Like...in general?"

He gritted his teeth, "no not in general, well, I suppose. That's irrelevant. The Jones and Emerson case. Something's not right. I've been pouring over these all night. The symptoms aren't matching up to any reaction to a cursed object I can find. I can't figure it out."

Hermione put down her bag and hovered over his shoulder for a moment. The book in front of him was a History of Cursed Objects Across Europe. He was right. She'd been through that one backward and forwards. Nothing came close to what they were observing. Then, something occurred to her.

She lifted herself up and sat on the desk, crossing her legs. Her lower knee brushed a little too close to his sleeve but he didn't pull away. Hermione was too lost in thought to notice.

"When did they say the trap went off?"

"A few paces into the dungeon...it didn't go off right away," said Draco.

"Maybe something else triggered it. A word or a spell..."

"We'd be dealing with a completely different type of dark magic. We're treating the wrong symptom." He looked up at her and she nodded. "Hermione, you're a genius."

"Obviously," she said with a laugh

They grinned at each other and for a moment, it was silent and still.

"Hey," came a slightly too casual voice from the doorway. Hermione looked up from Draco and sprung to her feet.

"Ronald! What are you doing here?"