Hello all. I'm back. As always, I love hearing your feedback, so thank you to everyone who's stuck it out and is still here and thank you to all the new readers who shared their thoughts too. I'm so glad to know you think I'm doing a good job of representing these characters in an accurate light. I have to admit, I'm one of those folks who doesn't understand fanfics that totally stray from the source material unless it's au, so I'm really happy to hear that you think I'm portraying these characters as they were designed to be! Does anyone else make a confused face at those fanfics who portray Draco as a "sex god" (their wording, not mine) because...how? How could he have possibly had time to hone those skills when he was too busy staring at a cabinet all sixth year?

Anyway, I'm rambling. My point is, I love hearing from my OG peeps and my new ones, so please, let me know what you think!

Love,

Cherry


The first thing Hermione noticed when she stepped out of the Floo at Malfoy Manor was a smell. It wasn't a particularly pleasant smell, but wasn't bad either, it was just a smell.

"Malfoy?" Hermione called out as she left the drawing room, following the scent as it got stronger. This led her to the kitchen, where Hermione found the source of the scent. It looked as if Draco had attempted to make them lunch, and what had resulted was a pot of dark red soup. Hermione stood there silently, not quite certain what to make of the scene. She wanted to laugh, because Draco looked so befuddled, but she couldn't possibly, since he had clearly gone to an effort outside his comfort zone for her.

"I think I added too much pepper." He finally commented, pressing his lips into a fine line as he examined the pot. As much as Hermione had tried, she couldn't hold in the laughter that bubbled in her chest. Draco looked up at the sound of her laughing, and before he could respond, he smiled weakly. "I've made it before successfully, I promise." He tried to explain, and Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes as she continued to giggle.

"It smells so strange, Malfoy." She approached the counter and looked into the pot, moving her face away as the scent hit her directly on the nose. "Ah yes, that smells like a lot of pepper. Did you measure it?" She looked to Draco, who shrugged helplessly.

"Initially yes, but it didn't seem like it would be enough, so I added more, then it was clear that I'd added too much, so I put in more of the other ingredients, but then it seemed like it lacked pepper again, so..."

"So you added more pepper. Despite your first attempt's mistake?"

"Yes?" Draco answered, sending Hemrione into another fit of laughter. She lifted the bag in her hand up and set it on the table.

"You needn't worry too much. I thought you wouldn't make anything, so I brought takeaway from the Leaky Cauldron."

"It's like you knew I would fail." Draco gushed as he emptied the bag of its contents.

"Honestly, I wasn't expecting anything." Hermione admitted, casting a vanishing spell over the pot of dark liquid. The contents found their way into the sink, where Hermione washed them away while Draco found plates to put the food on. "There's a few types of toasties and pies to choose from." Hermione explained as she washed her hands, drying them on the towel by the sink. She put on a kettle and filled two glasses with water, and when she turned to find Draco plating their meal, she realised how domestic this situation really was. And it didn't bother her. Maybe it should have, because she'd never once felt domestic before, which had been one of Ron's biggest problems with their relationship, but it didn't feel wrong in this situation.

"What?" Draco asked as he looked at Hermione, who was smirking to herself. "Is it the soup still, isn't it? I swear I thought it would work."

"It's not the soup." Hermione giggled, and Draco's ears turned red. "All right, now it's the soup." She nudged his arm as she passed him and made her way to his study, drinks in hand. Draco watched her disappear through the doors, struggling to keep his mouth shut. Blimey, how did he plan to get through their partnership if he couldn't watch her walk away without staring?

"Master Draco mustn't let the food go cold, Miss Hermione is waiting."

Draco jumped at Mimmy's voice to his left, and when he turned to look at the house-elf, he narrowed his eyes.

"Don't you need to be mopping something? Maybe remove the scent of spices from the hallways?"

"The scent of spices from Master Draco's soup of love?" Mimmy raised her eyebrows just enough to see them over her flower sunglasses, and Draco whipped his head from the doorway to Mimmy thrice and held up his finger menacingly.

"Never let your theories go beyond this room. Beyond this moment between us." Draco amended, knowing Mimmy was clever enough to drag Hermione to the kitchen to tell her of her thoughts then tell Draco that they stayed within the room.

"Mimmy is a free elf." She said apathetically. "She takes no commands from her master, but Mimmy is willing to use discretion. After all, it's only a theory." The right corner of her thin lips quirked up before she disappeared through the doors that led to the servant's quarters.

With a deep breath, Draco picked up the precarious stack of plates, napkins, and takeaway boxes before remembering he was a wizard and cast a mobility spell, letting the items follow him up the stairs to his study. When he entered, he tried to feign disinterest as he guided the contents of his charm to the only uncluttered end table in the room, but in reality, he stared at Hermione as she pored over the papers in front of her. She'd twisted her hair over one shoulder and scanned the sheets of parchment on the desk. She didn't even look up as he came in, which was disappointing, but did give Draco more time to stare.

"Borgin was of no help." Hermione spoke, explaining her and Mimmy's findings. "Said he didn't sell things of a dark nature, and I think I might've spooked him. Mimmy found a mantle of interest, though. One labelled with a shop name called Utopian Woodworking. It's a similar sentiment to something visionary, and it's on Cantlebar Road."

"Hence the Scottish-Dwarvish Gaelic." Draco noted, reading the parchment Hermione handed him, which had been written by Mimmy, judging by the handwriting.

"I think it's our best bet, at the moment." Hermione looked up, scrunching her nose. "Have you ever been to Cantlebar Road?"

"Several times." Draco nodded. "Mostly accompanying one of my parents on some rare purchase they made."

Hermione nodded, her eyes flicking to the food Draco had carried upstairs. "I think we need to be careful. We need to plan this deliberately, because Borgin clearly knew I was up to something."

"Then we'll discuss it over lunch." Draco agreed, aware of Hermione's stare. He guided her away from the desk and they each took a chair in front of the fireplace. He gave Hermione first pick of the food, and she chose a cheese and tomato toastie, while Draco opted for one of cheese and greens.

The two spoke logistics, determining how to best approach their visit to Utopian Woodworking, and when to do it. It couldn't be too soon, in case Borgin had friends and alerted them to a nosy, bushy haired girl in search of a mantle. And what would their cover story be? They couldn't just walk in and announce that Draco Malfoy was in search of the Visionary. No, they would have to be more subtle than that.

At some point, the conversation devolved into casual discussion of their lives, and for the first time in months, Draco had more to share than just his desperate quest to solve his parents' murders. As he familiarised himself with his new role as the CEO of Malfoy Investments, he considered expanding their purpose and perhaps rebranding as Malfoy Enterprises as they dabbled in new markets. He'd already secured a Director of Research and Development, should he go through the switch, and Hermione was all too eager to hear what his plans were.

The idea had (unsurprisingly) begun because Draco had watched Hermione's excitement in her own research, and Draco had begun to wonder if he was limiting his own potential, too, by strictly following in the footsteps of his forefathers by using his company solely to invest in new products and designs. What if he began in-house development? What if he began with Potions, headed by Hermione?

He didn't let on about that last part, of course, but instead detailed his plans to build up the Research and Development department with a brilliant wizard from Italy, one who had become well known for his household tools that conducted magic without the intervention of their owner. The wizard, Bianchi, had agreed for his company to be absorbed by Malfoy Enterprises, should it ever come to fruition, in exchange for the position of Director of Research and Development, and Draco was heavily leaning to agreeing to the requirement, knowing that if he had any chance of convincing Hermione to join his company, it would have to be clear he wasn't creating a position solely for her, as that might feel too much like nepotism, but if he could create an effective branch of his company that just so happened to appeal to her, well, that would seem believable, wouldn't it?

"So what are you waiting for?" Hermione asked, toying with a curl. Draco had to make sure he didn't stare too long. "Why not take the plunge and hire this Bianchi wizard?"

"There's more to this process than just finding a good fit." Draco explained, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "I have a board to answer to, I need to secure funding for more than just one man's salary, and I'm trying to change an age-old company from its initial design. Ignoring the centuries of history I'm disrespecting, it's uncharted territory."

"You're scared." Hemione noted with a small smile.

"No, Granger, I'm not scared." Draco rolled his eyes, unwilling to admit that he might be the tiniest bit scared. What if he failed? What if he finally pursued something he was passionate about and it never succeeded? What if it did succeed? What if, no matter the years and years his father had told him that his original thoughts weren't worth pursuing, he managed to make something of his own that surpassed his father's expectations of him?

"You are, aren't you?" She hypothesized, angling in her chair so she faced him. "It's all right to be, you're making a big decision here. To take something that was handed to you, something that you know currently is successful, and you're hoping to change it in a way that will likely take your company to new places, but you don't know yet if those places will be positive or negative. That would scare me." Hermione sympathized. "I know I'm scared for this vanishing potion I'm creating, and I'm hardly staking my career on that."

"Yes, you're staking more of Longbottom's career on it than your own, aren't you?" Draco suggested smoothly, looking for something new to distract Hermione from his company's endeavors. If Hermione kept talking about how mundane her current profession was, he would either share his plans with her or burst from keeping them a secret.

"Neville is a willing participant." Hermione disagreed, recognising a change in subject when she saw it. "You should have seen the number of changes he made to the letter we ultimately sent to Mahoutokoro's." She sighed, rubbing her neck. "It feels like he's the one running the show at this point. I'm just grovelling and hoping he accommodates my requests."

"I've reached out to my contacts as well." Draco casually mentioned, hoping one of them would pull through and make him look good. "Both Japan and South Korea."

"Thank you." Hermione said, reaching over the space between them to rest her hand on Draco's. "I don't know how much of a burden the request was for you, but I really do appreciate it."

"It wasn't a burden, Granger." Draco breathed, searching her eyes. Was this one of those friendly hand holds? Something she did with all her friends?

Hermione watched Draco closely, wondering if she was imagining something in his expression. It was difficult to tell in the low light of the room. She wanted to ask him, but at the same time didn't. What if whatever he said changed their friendship? What if he told her to take her hand off him and that it was time for her to go home? What if he didn't say that? What did it mean then?

"We'll see if you still say that when I'm knocking on your door in the middle of the night to get you to message your contacts in Dubai." She joked, removing her hand from his and placing it in her lap. Draco took the meaning to be that she'd lost interest in him and he slammed the walls within his mind back up. It had been stupid to entertain that she'd felt any form of affection toward him. Hermione was a naturally tactile person. These little moments of touching were just that. They were no reflection of how she felt about him.

"So we should consider alternative avenues." Hermione spoke again, aware that Draco was retreating into his mind. She'd seen him do it before, but it had been quite some time since she'd last witnessed it. She hoped she hadn't offended him.

Hermione stood and returned to the desk, fetching the list of names Draco had drafted up. She took her seat again and looked over the parchment. "Just in case the Visionary lead runs cold. Have any of these names appeared in the results the private investigator brought you?"

"Many of them." Draco confirmed. "Most of them are in Azkaban, so that drops the overlap quite a bit."

"Are there any themes you've noticed?" Hermione asked, scanning the list with more focus than she had that morning.

"Not in particular." Draco shrugged. "My parents knew bad people and the list is full of them."

"Do you have a list of names your investigator provided that aren't names you recognise?" She asked, and Draco fetched it from somewhere underneath the stacks of parchment that littered the room. Hermione balked at the list, noticing it was written on two full sheets of parchment.

"Oh don't give that look." Draco chided playfully, knowing the list was quite a bit longer than he'd wished to deal with either. "As if there's nothing you'd like to do more on a Saturday afternoon than research."

"Fun research? Yes. Looking up names? That has to be some of the most boring research known to man, dare I say." She responded with a good-natured smirk. Was she flirting?

"Then I'll leave you to it. Let me know of your findings in...an hour? Is that enough time?" Draco jested as he made his way toward the door. Hermione snagged him by the leg of his trouser.

"Don't you even try to worm your way out of this, Draco Malfoy." Hermione retorted, gathering a stack of papers and handing them to him. "We'll split this search in half, as is fair."

With a dramatic grumble, Draco accepted the stack and sat at his desk. "Yes, Professor Granger." He whinged, and for some reason, the teasing didn't bother Hermione like it did when it was Harry or Ron.

Hermione took a seat in one of the wingback chairs angled toward the fireplace and she began her search. She sifted through papers, looking for more information about each of the witches and wizards on her list. She began compiling her own list, cross referencing Draco's original while looking for patterns. She first sorted by profession, then location, hoping to find some relationships form that might lead her in some direction.

The two worked in a comfortable silence, and it was with another queer realisation that Hermione found this setting just as domestic as their preparation of lunch. She snuck glances at Draco every so often, wondering if he, too, felt oddly comfortable in this setting. Like they had been friends for all of life, and were simply sharing a common interest. She didn't remember feeling this comfortable with Ron. There had been plenty of prolonged moments of silence between them, but it had usually been because Ron was busy working or reading some article during breakfast, and Hermione had often felt disappointed that when she wanted moments of silence, Ron hadn't felt the same. But she'd shared that with Draco. They were both quiet people naturally, and that suited both just fine, but when one had something to say, the other listened. And when they shared in discussion, it was natural and stimulating, and it just felt...right. Like something Hermione had longed for her whole adult life, and had never been able to find.

Draco nearly felt Hermione's eyes on him and when he looked up, the two locked eyes, neither fully able to understand what the other was thinking, though it wasn't all that different.

Draco felt longing (which Hermione didn't quite feel), knowing that as the room lost daylight, it meant he was closer to losing Hermione. To not seeing her for who knew how long. And he didn't know how he would quite handle that. He'd stopped speaking to his mother's portrait, unable to look at her and admit his feelings for Hermione, despite the fact that she somehow knew. This left him feeling utterly empty, and the only thing that filled that space as of late had been Hermione's presence, and he couldn't stand to think she would leave him alone again.

It was utterly selfish, and something he would never vocalise, but Draco wanted her. He wanted Hermione to be his friend, his partner, his lover, whatever she would take if it meant he didn't have to see her go at the end of the day and wonder what excuse he could use to see her next. But instead, he just stared at her, like the coward he was.

The two broke eye contact when there was a knock on the door, and Thrump shuffled into the room with a tea set in his hands.

"Thrump has brought Master Draco and his guest some tea." He explained, setting the tray on an end table that magically shrunk to suit Thrump's height. He poured Draco a cup of tea (no sugar or milk), and looked at Hermione. "Would Master Draco's guest like a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you, Thrump, that's very kind of you to offer." Hermione answered, hardly wanting to make the house-elf that wouldn't even refer to her by name wait on her.

"Why don't you go polish the silver or something, Thrump?" Draco suggested and while Hermione had thought the suggestion was due to Draco's clear irritation, Thrump's face lit up at the suggestion and he nodded and bowed before leaving the room. Draco stood and poured a second cup of tea. "I don't think he'll ever unlearn," Draco spoke, lifting the filled teacup and saucer, bringing it to Hermione, "the teachings of my grandfather." He explained Thrump's dislike of Hermione in a way that felt both apologetic and realistic; there would still be people (or house-elves, in this case) that found strife with her, but Draco wouldn't subject her to their antiquated nonsense.

"I can imagine." Hermione noted, taking the cup from Draco's hands. She ignored the way her skin reacted to his fingers as the saucer passed between their hands. "But I appreciate that you let him feel that way. It's his right."

Draco rolled his eyes and took his teacup back to his desk, shifting in his chair to face Hermione. "It's his right?" Draco chuckled and shook his head. "Then isn't it the right of any witch or wizard as well?"

"Of course not. Witches and wizards must feel exactly as I do."

Draco looked up at Hermione and noticed she was smiling coyly. He played along. "I see. So if I were to say that hags should not be allowed to roam the streets lest they eat everyone's children..."

"Then I'd say you're wrong and that they deserve a chance to prove that raw meat is a suitable alternative to the flesh of children." Hermione didn't particularly feel this way, knowing that some hags could manage their cravings while others were simply dangerous, but to disagree with Draco? To banter in a way that felt familiar and enjoyable? She'd say just about anything.

"So when your law gets passed that hags get to roam free." Draco proprosed, resting his elbows on the table. "And a child gets snatched from his mother's side whilst shopping for wands at Ollivanders."

"Well, maybe he shouldn't have wandered off to look at the owls in the window at Eeylops Owl Emporium."

"Are we blaming the victim now?" Draco asked, and he rather enjoyed the light laughter that followed.

"Is the victim ever not to blame?" Hermione quipped, a sparkle in her eye.

"Most of the time!" Draco blustered, aware on some level that Hermione was taking the piss out of him, but if it made her laugh, he'd go along with it.

"Honestly, Draco, you're so worked up over something so simple." She demurely took a sip of her drink, watching Draco all the while. She was testing the taste of his name on her tongue, and while it didn't feel like it did when she said Harry or Luna's name, she rather liked it. Or rather, she liked the way he reacted to it. It was subtle; likely not noticeable to a bystander, but Hermione saw how Draco's chest dropped for just a moment, like he was breathless, and the way the tip of his ears tinged pink was delicious. She'd have to say his name more often.

Hermione drank her tea and was aware that the conversation had tapered off, likely because neither knew what to say. What did you say in this kind of situation? Draco feared that if he spoke, he might beg her to say his name again, and Hermione feared that anything she may say would reveal how much she enjoyed his reaction, and how much she hadn't expected to enjoy his reaction.

"So I've found some names of interest, I think." Hermione finally spoke, setting down her teacup and lifting her notes. Draco appreciated the change in subject and came to stand behind her, looking over the wingback at her writing.

"Hm," Draco mused, placing his elbow on the back of the chair and his head in his hand. "I do say, Granger, you have terrible handwriting. Does that say 'untraceable' or 'untickable?'"

"Last I checked, having neat handwriting wasn't a requirement for good note taking." Hermione huffed, aware their roles had shifted and that now she was the one getting teased. "And I think it says untraceable." She muttered, rolling the parchment when Draco laughed.

"I wouldn't be laughing, if I were you." Hermione threatened, standing and pointing the rolled scroll at Draco. "Because you have homework."

The smile dropped from Draco's face. "Homework?" He groaned. "You know, there's a reason I never pursued education after Hogwarts."

"That's too bad." Hermione noted, collecting her bag and forcing Draco to take the parchment. "Because I don't have the 'resources' to find out who these people are, but you do."

"'Don't have the resources?' Granger, half your friends work at the bloody Ministry." Draco exclaimed and Hermione simpered in response.

"Oh you want Harry and Ron knowing that you're conducting your own search? Absolutely, I'll bring that to their attention right away."

"Ah!" Draco yanked the parchment away from Hermione's outstretched hand. "I see your point. Very well, I'll do the digging."

"Thank you." Hermione said with a perfunctory nod. "Then I'll see you tomorrow? To continue our research?" Hermione hoped she wasn't being too forward by inviting herself into his life. Draco was thrilled that she was.

"All right." He agreed, and though he was disappointed she was leaving, at least he knew when he would next see her. "Same time?"

"If that works for you. I'll have to leave a little earlier, I've got a date with Harry, Ginny, and the children."

Draco bristled at the word "date" and Hermione noticed, but tried not to think about it too much. She wasn't ready to think that their harmless flirting and banter was becoming more serious for him.

"Of course. You'll give my regards to Potter and the newest additions to the clan, won't you?" He drawled, hoping it seemed like a natural response and not at all tainted by his desire to prevent Hermione from ever dating.

"I don't know if I should." Hermione grinned, walking with Draco to the Floo. "Harry might not dislike you so much anymore but I don't think Ginny feels the same. I don't know if I'm prepared for the lecture I'd receive for telling her I've been at Malfoy Manor all day."

With resignation, Draco nodded silently, because he knew it was fair that Hermione didn't want to bring him up to her friends, but his stomach dropped a little.

"Fair enough. Then I'll see you tomorrow." Draco spoke as they stopped in front of the fireplace.

"Same time." Hermione confirmed, smiling before waving and disappearing into the green flames.

"Mimmy wonders what it's like." Mimmy lurked in the doorway, making Draco jump. He turned with irritation and raised an eyebrow at the house-elf.

"Mimmy wonders what what's like?" Draco took the bait, stalking out of the room with Mimmy hot on his heels.

"What it's like to be a dirty secret."

Draco slowed and twisted to look at Mimmy, whose eyes went wide when she realised how angry Draco truly looked.

"Mimmy didn't mean it!" She shrieked before turning rapidly and running down the hall as fast as she could.

With a sigh, Draco bit his tongue, knowing whatever verbal lashing he gave Mimmy would hardly feel satisfactory.

After all, he was a dirty secret.


"I...haven't felt this way in a while. And it's been a process to readapt to the things I once found important."

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" Neville made a funny face. "Not that I want to know about your romances, but you do seem different since we spoke last summer, and that seems like the only new piece to the puzzle."