Not one person in the room seemed to know how to break the silence left in the wake of Theo's tale.

Blaise had his arms hanging limply at his side now. At various points during Theo's confession he'd gripped the back of his head, gnawed on his nails, and cast accusatory glares at Draco.

Theo let out a pained sigh.

"I wanted to help people, like Blaise does, you know? But I was in too deep before I realised that I'm just a cheap shortcut. What Blaise does… that's the real work."

Theo's voice was raw by this point. From speaking for so long and from grief, from guilt.

Blaise's knee bounced in an insistent rhythm of anxiety.

"Theo," Blaise's voice broke on the name. "Why didn't you come to me immediately?"

Theo looked over to his partner with that fond exasperation that couples often share when they know the other partner so well and would have anticipated their response.

"Besides what is essentially a magical gag… all you ever do is fix me. I was only ever a weird kid with a shite dad and you just have to constantly take care of me. I'd gotten myself into this mess and I wasn't going to drag you down again. I do that enough already."

Blaise shook his head furiously. "Don't you dare. Theo—you—you—absolute arse, the only reason I'm able to do anything at all is because you fixed me first."

Draco leaned forward, unsure if he'd have to physically stop Blaise from storming out.

"I know, those dreams I gave you when we were kids helped, but you didn't need them anymore," countered Theo.

"I didn't need them because I had you!" Blaise burst out. Draco hadn't seen this lack of composure from his friend since Sixth Year. "Of course it was lovely as a kid to go to sleep and dream about coming from a loving home with a parent that gives a shite, obviously it was wonderful to finally get some of that affection I'd craved for so long. But it wasn't real and you were! You were there when I was awake and you cared enough to be my friend and more."

"Those dreams brought us together, without them we would never—"

"How many times, Theo? How can I make you finally realise that you are so much more than this ability? I didn't fall in love with you because you put a pretty picture in my head, I fell in love with you because you made sure I didn't come apart after every interaction with my mother, because you cared enough to make me open up about it, because you always, unfailingly stuck with me when I didn't think anyone in the world cared. We made it through a bloody war for each other, I'm not letting you be in danger over something like this now."

Theo shook his head. "No, I don't care. I'd do it again for you. You always protected me. It was my turn, don't you think?"

Blaise sank back against the couch and had his head buried in hands. The sense of defeat evident in his crumpled posture. He'd failed to save the most important person in his world and the horrifying weight of such a revelation looked almost too much to bear.

"This threat you received regarding Blaise," said Sterling, bringing the conversation back to a less emotional plane, "do you still have it?"

"No, it had a self-destruction charm built in."

"We can add it to the list of memories to extract and submit for evidence," muttered Granger and made a note.

"And where is Unspeakable Filagree now?" asked Sterling.

"Still in the DoM, of course, though I don't see him much these days" said Theo, bitterly. "He has no need to threaten me via anonymous letter, as he'd done that explicitly already."

"Could that have come from Stanford? Before he went missing?" chimed in Potter.

"I didn't know him well," said Theo slowly. "But he seemed keen to just have the whole thing behind him. If anything, I'd say he felt a bit guilty."

"And he's not under a magical oath," said Johnson. "What if he felt guilty enough to finally come forward and Filagree found out, and removed the problem himself?"

"I agree. This is absolutely a motive if someone else knew he felt that way," said Potter. "But who else besides Theo and Filagree knew?"

"I'm telling you, someone at the Ministry knows too," insisted Theo. "Filagree had that report about my use for the DMLE, which means he was in contact with someone in your office," he gestured to the two Aurors who both stiffened but couldn't offer a denial.

Everyone began offering suggestions and theories at once. How best to protect Theo now, who they could trust at the office, when this could be brought to the Wizengamot, etc.

Through the din of voices—Theo and Blaise's low sounds of domestic bickering, Sterling's icy formality, Johnson's authoritative tone and Potter's irritating one—Draco noted the only one missing from the fray.

He looked at Granger to find her staring down at her parchment, eyes whizzing across every line jotted down. He knew when she reached the end of her notes when she released her bottom lip from her teeth and stared unseeing at the paper.

For every time she'd almost died, for every choice she'd been forced to make, for every person she lost, to still have to stare into the face of unimaginable abuse of power and marginalised people...

He remembered what she'd ranted at him about her break-up with Weasley. About how Weasley wanted to move on, to let society run itself, they'd done their bit as heroes and could take a breather now. Draco hated that he sort of understood where the ginger git was coming from. But as he looked at Granger and saw the dull flush of anger begin creeping up her neck and into her eyes, the way her hands slightly shook where they clutched the parchment, he knew exactly how she felt.

Again? All of this again? And for what? The most exhausting part of Theo's tale for her must have been how ordinary it all felt. She and Potter (and fine, with help from Weasley, he supposed) had already stamped out the obvious evil. But this? How could they fight the banality of power-hungry researchers and uncaring prison administrators that had been allowed to flourish by a society that didn't care to question anything?

But Draco hadn't been the only one to notice her.

"Hermione," said Sterling suddenly. "Why don't you get a jump on editing your transcription? It will help to have all the information organised."

Only because Draco had now become familiar with Sterling's voice and mannerisms could he recognise the subtle shift in tone.

Her notes would require almost no editing. Sterling would know that.

Granger gave a jerky nod and stood immediately. Without a backward glance, she swept from the room. Draco didn't stick around for the rest of the conversation either. He would go where he would be needed.

He followed her right into her office and she didn't object.

He could see the horror, the shock at the way their world had failed yet again. Draco saw the anger and the despair at the audacity of the way Theo had been used, at the way his natural gifts and intellectual curiosity had been warped into something sinister.

And then he saw the determination. She would have to once again step in and clean up a mess that never should have occurred in the first place.

Louder and louder it spilled from her features, seeped from her soul and screamed in his mind.

"Are you all right?"

Her eyes snapped to his and the unspoken answer blared at him. No. No, of course not.

Draco took her hand and led her to the fireplace. "Can I at least see you home?"

She nodded and squeezed his fingers before going straight for the Floo and disappearing through the flames.

When he arrived in her living room she'd already begun pacing and muttering to herself.

She'd gone right into planning mode, straight into mounting a defense for yet another battle she would need to fight.

"Barbaric… just absolutely… disgusting and I cannot believe… actually I can believe, but bloody Merlin the depth of depravity to just… abuse and… my God, Theo, what was he thinking… and all those prisoners… and you!"

She whipped around and pointed an accusatory finger at him. Draco stood there and braced himself for a bitter and deserved dressing-down.

"You made me feel so foolish."

His heart plummeted but then immediately picked back up in an odd, twinging flip as she stalked over and grabbed him by the shoulders to crash their lips together.

He really hoped he wasn't dreaming.

Because if this was Granger's method of punishing him it was certainly not a good way for him to learn a lesson. He'd disobey and betray her again and again in an endless loop of awful behaviour if it meant he could win this glorious reward.

Her bruising, relentless kisses only increased in intensity and he let her back him up against the nearest wall and ravage his lips, steal the air from his lungs, scratch at his scalp, tug at his hair, and take take take all the things he'd withheld, even if he hadn't meant to deprive her.

She broke away with a harsh intake of air and buried her face in his chest. He felt her frame quivering and his suspicions of why she'd hidden her face were confirmed when he heard a sniffle.

"Don't—Granger—don't cry." He tilted her chin up and cupped her face. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sorry."

She stared up at him and the tears tracked down her cheeks and spilled onto his hands; warm little droplets that burned like a Fiendfyre of guilt.

Her lips trembled all the more, features twisted in the sweet release of grief.

"I missed you, you absolute idiot. And I'm so, so angry with you, but God, I missed you."

"Don't cry—just—stop."

"I can't very well help it, I'm not doing it on purpose!" She burst out and stepped away to dab at her wet eyes.

"You can't expect me to keep it up if you're crying."

That at least got her to laugh.

"All right, I'm not that angry, maybe I never was," she admitted tiredly. "I'm just disappointed, I suppose. I thought what we had… our partnership, even before it was… what it is now... I thought it was a good one. An honest one, at least."

"It was. It is."

Draco took her hand again. It twitched briefly as if she wanted to rip it away but then she allowed herself to be led to her sofa.

He realised something then. About how he always spoke about his involvement with the advocacy initiative.

"It's not temporary."

She looked away. His next words were harsh, but his touch gentle as he took her chin and forced her to look at him. "No, don't you dare, you are far too brave for that."

Chin jutted out now, she held his intense gaze as Draco repeated his statement.

"It's not temporary."

"What isn't?"

"This." He squeezed her hand. "It never was. Not for me. Is that what you thought?"

She took a fortifying yet shaky breath but maintained eye contact. "Whenever you… whenever you would talk about the programme you always seemed to have an endpoint in mind. It was my understanding that once we'd solved this, you would have considered your debt to Harry, your debt to me, paid. And you'd be free to… move on. Even if I hoped otherwise."

While Draco couldn't quite summon the humility to grovel or let her in on his secret (that he was a massive fucking idiot, blundering his way through life) he could give her a truth.

"To be honest I… I don't know what I'll do when this is all over. But what I do know is that this isn't temporary."

She swallowed a lump in her throat and nodded. It seemed she understood the seriousness of his feelings, but perhaps he could be all the more clear about the depth of them.

Another epiphany: it had been so long since someone had chosen her.

"Did you think I was just choosing Theo over you?"

She opened her mouth to deny it but the split second hesitation had already spoken for her.

"I—"

"Weasley didn't choose you." Draco interrupted bluntly, and almost caused his own murder.

"Don't you dare—"

"No, just listen for a minute." He took her other hand too. "Weasley chose some vision of a woman popping out a litter of children and raising them for him over you. Biggest mistake of that tosser's life and that's saying something."

She bestowed her Frown of Annoyance.

Hands weren't enough for him. Draco tugged her into his lap.

"I wasn't choosing Theo over you. I wasn't hiding information because I wanted to keep something from you, or make you feel foolish. I just wanted my friend to be safe. I always planned to involve you. I just buggered the timing."

Draco held a hand against her temple, hoping the contact would remind her of how he supposedly quieted her mind. "This isn't a phase. I'm not chasing a boyhood fantasy, I'm not with you because I'm bored and looking for a change of scenery. I have no idea what happens after but I do know I'd like for this to continue… beyond."

Granger took her time with his statement, letting it linger between them. Memories, good and bad, probably flew through her mind, as she assessed her risk here. Weighing what she knew about the man palming the side of her face against her own doubts. Questioning if his actions and words could be trusted going forward, or if the attraction they shared overrode her logical side.

She suddenly rearranged herself and threw a leg over to straddle him.

"As a steward of the law, I require clarity. How far beyond does this continue on?"

She'd made a coy joke of it, but Draco kept his tone sincere.

"As long as you want. I've got no conditions for you. No timelines to enforce."

He removed his hand from her face and pulled her hips even closer. "Just me. That's what you're getting. Selfish and conceited and too proud by half."

"Offer accepted."

She lowered her mouth to hover over his and posed a question before a kiss.

"Should I presume this is a mutual acceptance?"

"Of course, even though you are so fucking loud and sanctimonious and prissy."

"Doesn't seem to be a problem for you."

She reached down and stroked his cock through his trousers, and he resisted the urge to quip about collecting "hard evidence" to back up her claim.

"I think you've always been a problem for me," he teased.

"Are you hellbent on sabotaging your shot at make-up sex?"

"Maybe I just missed riling you up."

"Or you just missed me."

"Right again, Granger."

Of course she was right. Because he'd missed her so fucking much. He might hear her all the time inside his head but nothing compared to the way she sounded in person.

The way her breathing impatiently quickened as they divested each other of clothes. Her short inhales when he moved his mouth to her breasts. The whines when he kissed further down and only teasingly licked her clit.

His name, gods his fucking name, in all sorts of iterations.

Impatient, so he'd thrust faster.

Soft, so he'd look her in the eye.

Harsh, so he knew she was about to tumble over the precipice.

Faint, so he'd hold her close in the afterglow.

And then the tactile portion he craved. Gentle explorations along his bare skin by the pads of her fingers. Skimming in a way that felt fleeting while simultaneously staking an indelible claim over him.

"Why do you do that every time?"

"Hmm? Do what?"

"The touching."

"Does it bother you?"

"Not at all, I was only curious."

Her eyes followed the path of her fingers. "Just reminding myself to be present with you. And confirmation that you're here, I suppose. A comfort thing."

"I could be around more often. If you like."

"I would like that." Her fingers suddenly stilled and she met his gaze. "This is sort of related but I… I never told you how it ended with Ron."

"You did, though. You said he was pushing you for things you weren't ready for. That you had different outlooks you couldn't fully reconcile."

"Yes, but the final straw was when he accused me of never really being there with him." Her touch resumed again. "As in, I may physically be spending time with him, but I'd really be a million miles away, thinking about work or some case that was troubling me. And as awful as that was to hear, he was right. I told him so and well… I think he expected me to apologise, but I couldn't. We yelled a bit more and then he was packing a bag."

She trailed her fingers up to his face now. "It's not something I'd like to repeat." They stroked up to his forehead, through his hair, back down to his neck, further down to his back. Then up and down, up and down along the muscles there. "Not with you."

"Glad to hear it."

Part of Draco felt guilty for selfishly sinking into the sanctuary he found in her arms, when the others had stayed behind to help sort out Theo's predicament. Perhaps sensing his turn in mood, she shifted in his hold. Her fingers came up and smoothed over the crease in his brow.

"Thank you for coming after me. Everything Theo revealed… it was a lot to process. I'm angry and exhausted and..." Her sentence faded away as she lost herself once again in battle planning.

"What are Theo's options? Realistically?"

"He'll be out of a job, a Ministry one anyway, indefinitely. Whistle blowing only protects him for coming forward, I can't see the court allowing him to retain his Unspeakable status as he was torturing people, even if it was coerced."

"Do you think he could face Azkaban for this?"

"Providing his memories back up his details and we can perhaps get some prisoners to volunteer themselves for Memory Recovery, I think Sterling can at least ensure he doesn't end up serving time in the prison. Probation is all but guaranteed here, and probably either magical monitoring or an outright wand ban for a time."

"Small price to pay if we can keep him safe." He reflexively tightened his grip on her. "I can't… I can't let anything happen to him. Before I met you, again, Theo had to... I'm only… I'm only here today because of him and Blaise."

Soft fingers traced over his lips. A brief kiss followed their touch. One that said I'm glad you're here.

"I think I understand now. What he means to you."

"I'm still sorry it played out the way it did."

"If it were Harry and I were in your position… well I'm not sure I can blame you entirely."

"What's our next move?"

"We can't do anything just yet," cautioned Granger. "We have to rely on Sterling to do his job."

But that didn't sit right with Draco.

Maybe he could see what his father had to say about all this.

Draco tore through his father's study again.

He put faith in his father's magpie-like tendencies to hoard threads of influence, scraps of connections to expose or exploit. "Every family has something to hide, no matter their wealth, political standing, or blood status," Lucius had often said.

Lucius had kept a very handy timeline of Ministerial elections and the subsequent bureaucratic appointments made by said Ministers upon taking office.

Voldemort's second failure at world domination had created quite the mess at a governmental level. Enough of a confusing jumble for certain witches and wizards to set up camp in the name of law and order.

In the wake of the Dark Lord's most recent downfall, Lucius had a brief period before arrest and imprisonment. And during this house arrest, he'd kept tabs on the moving parts and pieces of the new government taking shape.

This time allowed him to amass the correct amount of leverage of war-time crimes committed by members of the Wizengamot and other higher-ups who would levy the claim of "I was scared and so I did what I was told," that had allowed them to retain positions during and now post-Voldemort.

That refrain (and the threat of information leaks) got Lucius a shorter sentence than he probably deserved. But then, he had been murdered so perhaps karma did exist after all.

Draco flipped through notes on the immediate aftermath of Potter's triumph. The remains of the court system had immediately declared Shacklebolt as interim minister; no surprise there or further commentary from Lucius.

His father had a whole lot on the make-up of the DMLE and the Aurors who transitioned from the state of war to the reality of peace. Per his more shallow tendencies, he'd jotted down lines of petty information about inept officers like John Dawlish ("susceptible to bribes, pretends wife isn't a half-blood, slow on the draw with a wand") and more veteran ones like Gawain Robards ("Ruthless. Will play the long political game").

Lucius had a list of almost every higher-up he knew to be at least somewhat complicit in the Dark Lord's regime who'd somehow retained employment. Quickly scanning the section on the DoM, Draco noted the name Byron Filagree.

Draco tucked that fact away and moved to notes on the legal landscape of late 1998.

In the wake of post-war sentences and appeals, the making of new laws and undoing of old ones, Draco noted a particularly alarming proposition. A measure shot down by the courts that would allow for the use of Unforgivables during interrogation. Introduced on the floor of the Wizengamot by one Gawain Robards.

Robards lost the battle with that one. But he landed a different victory.

He'd apparently penned a personal recommendation during the nomination process to fill a vital post with the Dementors gone.

The appointment of Derek Stanford as warden of Azkaban prison.

There was the lead. Draco chased it.

He had the separate pieces; scattered and seemingly all coincidental, but months of research with Granger taught him that any link could hold the answer.

The past few months had also taught him he worked better with a partner.

Draco desperately wished he could have used his Galleon to send a message to Granger along the lines of, "I'll be over in five minutes, take your knickers off and wait for me in bed."

Alas, he had to send her, "Hearing transcripts from Law Proposal #4055b if you have them. Or know where to find them."

They ended up Floo'ing to her office after-hours and leafing through old trial records. Reminiscent of their early days together, only now Draco could run a hand up her leg and squeeze her thigh when he hit a dead end and wanted a distraction from the failure.

"What are we looking for?" he eventually asked impatiently, frustrated that he may have only wasted time poring over tedious and overly verbose transcripts.

"There!" Granger suddenly said and stood up. "Expert witness testimony given by Unspeakable Byron Filagree."

"In support of the law?"

"Yes and further down the list of those testifying…"

Her finger landed on the name of Derek Stanford.

"What a handy little trifecta of friends," mused Draco.

"Mmm…" Granger sat down and scanned further through the transcript. "Some of the things Filagree says… about how much the mind can withstand the Crucio before it breaks… my God he seems intimately acquainted with the physical limit."

"He seems like a sick bastard."

"With friends in high places," added Granger with a grim expression.

"Is this enough to go on?" Draco asked with a hopeful glance in her direction.

"No. But it's enough to make me very, very worried for Theo."

Draco found a confrontation awaited him in the form of a sullen Blaise when he arrived at Nott Manor with Granger.

Before the cavalry could turn up to the "let's build a protection plan for Theo" meeting, Blaise pulled Draco aside. His voice sounded calm and measured per his usual vocal habits, but his eyes exuded hurt. They'd not had a chance to discuss things (namely, Draco's involvement and foreknowledge of Theo's predicament) since Draco had prioritised comforting Granger during the ordeal.

"I asked you. I asked you point blank if you noticed anything wrong with Theo," said Blaise.

"I know."

"Couldn't have come to me after you cottoned on?"

"And said what?"

Blaise opened his mouth to rebut but Draco cut him off. "Telling Granger first was my way of handling it, my way of keeping him and you safe. I won't apologise for my methods here."

"I could have—"

"Done what? Helped how? This is for the best. Don't let your sentiment cloud your judgement here."

Blaise pulled back, stung. Draco immediately went for a softer tone.

"Blaise. Please. Think for just a minute why I'm still here, why I'm involved at all. It's not just for her. I would hope by now that you could trust that."

I care too. For both of you.

Blaise's gaze morphed to a begrudging acceptance; Draco's temporary deceit less important than repairing his relationship with Theo.

"How's he doing?" Draco asked, nodding towards Theo. He was chatting quietly with Granger.

"It helps that he can actually talk to me about it now but… now I know why he can't look Greg in the eye. And when he told me about Ben he…" Blaise trailed off, unable to articulate how Theo's guilt had physically manifested.

"I can't say I'm not angry with him, with Theo. I warned him, I always warned him…" Blaise broke off again and sighed. "I think we're both just feeling monumentally inadequate at the moment."

Draco had a long history with that particular feeling, and didn't know how to comfort his friend. Especially when he hadn't quite won his own battle with thoughts of all his personal deficiencies.

He was thwarted from making a sentimental fool of himself by the timely arrival of Potter and Johnson.

Despite Granger telling Draco to deliver the message in a more tempered way, he completely disregarded her advice.

"Robards is involved, we need a plan to take him out," he announced dramatically.

Granger shot him a quelling look and flicked her wand to string together the trail of documents that she'd organised into a timeline detailing the links between the DMLE, the DoM research, and Azkaban.

"We have here an Auror wanting a more brutal system who has made public attempts at shaping our society into that image," summed up Granger. "And though these links may seem tenuous, I also see two other individuals in positions of power who not only agreed with him, but we know worked together via Theo. We also know Filagree was in contact with someone at the DMLE about Theo's power."

"So we have all this," Potter waved a vague hand at her floating research. "What can we do with it? Send it anonymously to the Prophet and take it public?"

Granger shook her head.

"This won't be public information until Sterling and I file the official petition on Theo's behalf. We currently have the upper hand."

"Except you don't," countered Blaise. "Someone—"

"Robards," chimed in Draco.

"—at the DMLE knows about Theo and they've already seen fit to remove the warden it would seem."

"Blaise is right, Harry," Johnson insisted as she saw her partner's mouth working up to a furious argument. "Our plan right now needs to be how to best keep Theo protected until he can testify."

"We can't do a Ministry safehouse," mused Potter. "Everyone in the department—"

"Including Robards," said Draco.

"—has access to those locations."

"Especially Robards."

"So I'll stay home," said Theo simply. "My house has protective enchantments."

"Great, Theo becomes a safe shut-in, that's settled. Now, we can discuss how to pin this on your boss?"

"That'd be lovely, Malfoy, do you have actual proof to share?" asked Potter through gritted teeth.

"According to my father's files—"

"I already hate this."

"—Stanford was put in place by Robards."

"And Filagree served as an expert witness during the push by Robards to get Unforgivables on the books as acceptable interrogation methods. Theo knows Stanfod and Filagree are at least involved as he's seen it. We know they all ran in the same circle and further, seem to share a similar outlook in regards to how society should treat incarcerated people," reiterated Granger.

"But per Harry's point earlier, what can we do about this at the moment?" asked Johnson.

"We need the official paperwork of Stanford's promotion first, as well as all the documentation we can find on his tenure as warden. That'll be on record at the Ministry," said Granger.

Draco turned to her in surprise, understanding where she wanted to go with her methods. "You want Sterling to throw out an accusation in open court?"

"Exactly."

He saw the gleam in her eyes. The gleam of a girl who'd trapped Rita Skeeter in a jar. The girl who'd led Umbridge to certain doom at the bows and arrows of a centaur herd.

"An accusation like that gets people to look closer at Robards. He'll be under scrutiny as it is with his planned run for Minister, this could get him to act a little sloppy," she added.

"So what, you want to deliberately provoke the man into doing something desperate?" asked Potter in disbelief.

"Yes."

"He's the head of the DMLE," Potter reminded the room unnecessarily. "And if we really think he's involved, he may already be responsible for the disappearance of one man as well as the threats to Theo."

"Harry—"

"I just want you to be careful, Hermione. Angelina and I already think we're being watched, I don't want you putting yourself in danger based on a guess."

"I'm just popping to the Ministry to grab some official records, it's hardly breaking into the Department of Mysteries," she volleyed back.

Draco had an unfortunate realisation in that he whole-heartedly agreed with Potter. Then a second epiphany in that he could help in his own way here.

Draco looked across the way at Theo and Blaise. He remembered the two boys who had clung to each other that morning of his 17th birthday, who shared a love-bond so strong and bright it would carry them through this turmoil eventually. As it had through abusive childhoods, negligent adults, a fucking war, the disdain from society about their relationship, so would their devotion win out here.

He understood it now; the lengths one could go to in pursuit of shielding another from harm.

"I'll do it then," Draco offered.

"You can't," said Johnson at once. "Only Aurors or legal representatives would be able to access those types of documents."

"And we do need them as I'd prefer not to rely on the Lucius Malfoy method of hearsay and bribery for information," added Potter.

"I agree," Draco said, causing the entire room to blink in surprise. "So let me hole up in your office, you check out the files Granger needs, bring them to me, and I can record what we need without her setting foot on Ministry premises. Simple."

"Right, because nothing about you showing up at the Ministry is suspicious or wouldn't grab the attention of Robards."

"So you agree your boss is behind this, great. I've got the least to lose here, and I'll sort through the information faster than you ever could, and then we have something concrete to hand to Sterling for Theo's case before Robards has a chance to cover his tracks."

"Or I can bring you in under the pretense of arresting and questioning you for suspicion of some nefarious plot."

"Oh did you want to cuff me? Didn't know you had an Auror-detainee kink, Potter."

"Merlin, you two are so immature," huffed Granger. "Harry, you know you'll have to sneak him in."

Potter groaned. "Hermione—"

"Harry."

Potter lost the staring match. He turned to Draco resignedly.

"Ever worn an Invisibility Cloak before?"

A/N: Thanks for reading! Next chapter (only two left!) will go up on September 14. You can find me on tumblr: heyjude19-writing.