There are certain parts of this story that I wrote before the rest. One was the gala at Hogwarts, and the other is coming up very soon. I'm getting excited and I hope you are too.

And yes, I torture with the slow burn ;)

As always, please let me know what you think!

Love,

Cherry

P.S. This chapter has my favorite line I've ever written. Can you guess it?


Hermione hadn't expected to feel glum when she woke up Thursday to realise it had been almost three weeks since she'd last seen Draco. When he'd left her home Saturday night, she felt it was safe to assume there would be some delay between that and their next interaction, seeing as both had reached a point in their projects where all they could do was read and wait.

So while Draco's sudden disappearance from Hermione's life could have been expected, it was also disappointing, and left Hermione to fill her free time with more research, a task which Ginny had so highly disapproved of. She'd conveyed to Hermione that this level of hibernation and lack of interaction was unhealthy, and she'd even suggested that Hermione try dating again, if just to get out of her flat. It had mainly been a suggestion due to Hermione's suddenly reclusive behavior, but it was also see how Hermione reacted to the suggestion. Would she grow angry? Embarrassed? Act as though she was hiding something? Ginny was fairly confident the relationship between Hermione and Draco had grown since the gala, but she didn't want to be the one to identify it. Mostly because Hermione was so strict in her behavior that Ginny didn't want to scare her, but also because she thought Malfoy was a prat, no matter how kind he was to her friend.

Hermione had (unsurprisingly) argued against Ginny's suggestion that dating was a good idea, and instead professed her love for literature before leaving the group dinner. This hadn't been the best course of action, however, as the dinner had been amongst friends, and Ginny and Neville immediately began to gossip the moment she left, both convinced there was more to the story than their friend let on.

Hermione had grown to feel even worse about how she'd handled her and Draco's almost kiss, knowing that on some level, it was why he wasn't reaching out. And it made her worry. Had their budding friendship been ruined by an unscrupulous interaction? Or had Draco been insulted by her refusal to address the situation, which drove him away? And most of all, if Hermione desired Draco as little as she professed to, then why the hell did she feel so ill when she thought of him in a romantic light?

She'd never felt that way about Harry, who once told her Professor Dumbledoor had asked him if the two were an item. Hermione's reaction to that suggestion had been to laugh and grimace at the thought of snogging her best friend, but when she thought of snogging Draco, her mind was torn in two. One half rejected the concept. It wasn't what was meant to be. At most, Draco was a friend who had overcome extreme prejudice and was now at a vulnerable part of his life, and Hermione just happened to find company in that. To make anything more of it would be an insult to both parties.

But the other half of her mind...well, it rather liked the implication of snogging Draco. Perhaps a bit too much, if Hermione's dreams were to be believed. After that first night Draco left, Hermione had vivid dreams of the two of them together in different suggestive situations, but she always woke from them in a cold sweat. It was that first half of her mind, fighting the desire she so clearly felt, though she was so confused by.

In an attempt to stave off the impure thoughts, Hermione threw herself into her work, and had begun testing her research by building base potions that could eventually be mixed with Witch's Ganglion to produce the concealing effect. This work had most definitely kept her busy and far too tired to let her mind wander, and for that she was grateful. Life was far too complicated as is to throw in a crush on an old school bully.

So while Hermione hadn't expected to feel so down, she knew she was into something deep when Draco's owl tapped on her office window just before noon and she nearly rushed the bird to retrieve the message it carried from its owner.

Granger,

Apologies for having disappeared. I'm sure you were sick with worry, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say you were sick with jealousy that I alone was getting to learn all about the folks I put feelers on. It might break your heart to say it, but it's gotten me nowhere.

As such, I'm wondering if you'd fancy a trip to Hucklebee Street. Perhaps you have some shopping to do?

~Draco Malfoy~

Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling too much. Hucklebee Street was the main road for wizardry shops in Edinburgh, and Cantlebar Road was one of its offshoots. It was time, Hermione surmised from the letter, to get into disguise and dig for information at a certain woodworking shop.

Hermione wrote her response hastily, agreeing to Draco's request and asking when they would go. She requested no sooner than Saturday, as that way they could spend the day planning their trip. While she wouldn't write it in case the owl got intercepted, Hermione was a bit nervous at the thought of going undercover to pursue an illegal product with the goal of finding a murderer, so she needed some time with her accomplice to prepare. It wouldn't be much time, but at least if they met Saturday, they could get their plans - and story - straight before they needed to live them.

Hermione would be lying if she said she wasn't excited to receive Draco's response that afternoon. She'd be lying if she'd said she wasn't doubly excited that he'd agreed to Saturday, which left her with just Friday between their next meeting. She did her best to stay level-headed the rest of her work day, and while she thought she seemed rather inconspicuous, Healer Katie could tell there was something different; something that made Hermione bounce her knee in between patients. She didn't bother asking, however, as Hermione had always been very private with her life, and the question would only drive Hermione further into the bubble she'd created for herself.

Refusing to give into the half of her mind that had developed an unhealthy attachment to Draco, when Hermione dressed Saturday morning to go to Malfoy Manor, she put very little thought into her clothing and hair, wearing jeans, trainers, and a plain jumper her mother had given her for what turned out to be their last Christmas together. She left her hair alone and ate her lunch over the sink to avoid disturbing her notes.

While the ache in her gut meant that she'd missed her weekends with Draco, Hermione still felt productive in her own research, having put together a potential base potion to which Witch's Ganglion could be added. She'd also learned that a cream, while ideal for application, would often sweat off after a couple of hours, despite Hermione's attempts to use aconite as something to give the cream longevity like Sleakeazy's Vanishing Cream had. She had been afraid to use too much, just in case the flower reacted poorly with one of the other ingredients. After all, it was a poison in its first use. So instead, Hermione had begun looking into how to apply the potion to a patch, then use that patch to cover a mark, much like a plaster would cover a wound. That seemed to extend the length of time a mark stayed covered, but until she learned how to properly procure, use, and store Witch's Ganglion, she only had some patches that would tint the covered area of skin blue, just as a way to see if the product worked.

When she finished her food, Hermione washed the plate and cup, storing them in a drying rack before grabbing her small, beaded purse from beside the front door. She wasn't certain if she would need the bag she'd secretly applied an extension charm to all those years ago, but it couldn't hurt to have it.

At almost one, Hermione stepped into the Floo and transported herself to Malfoy Manor, not all that surprised to not see Draco waiting for her. After all, she was several minutes early and he couldn't possibly spend his whole day waiting for her arrival.

Hermione couldn't be further from the truth, but she would never know that. Draco had, in fact, spent the entirety of his morning waiting for Hermione. He'd tried to fill his morning with work, but he'd found the proposals on his desk terribly boring in comparison to the company he'd be receiving at one, so he instead tried to focus on sorting his closet, figuring now was as good a time as ever to reconsider what he wanted in his wardrobe versus what should be donated (or incinerated, in the case of some garments he'd begun to associate with certain memories).

His attention span had apparently been reduced to almost zero, Draco had decided, when he pulled the same button up from its hanger for the third time, only to place it back in its home when he realised he wore it almost every week. He called on Thrump to help with the sorting, figuring that perhaps if he had company, he would focus more on the task at hand, but as it turned out, Thrump had a bit of a hoarding tendency and didn't want to get rid of anything. Draco was glad for the distraction, he supposed, but also felt rather drained after the exchange when he had to talk Thrump from jumping off the metaphorical ledge over an old tie. Thrump had moaned and clutched that tie to his chest, proclaiming that as it was Master Draco's first tie, it couldn't possibly be gotten rid of. But no, Draco couldn't offer for Thrump to keep the tie, as Thrump refused to be freed! Which meant Draco had to keep it, which he only agreed to to stop the house-elf from whinging any further.

At noon, Draco finally asked Thrump to prepare his lunch and figured that if he needed a distraction, Mimmy was the right source, albeit she would either be a good distraction, or the kind of distraction that continually reminded him of that which he was trying to not think about.

Draco was glad to see that Mimmy chose not to torment him, but to help prepare the evening's plans. Draco sat at his desk, slowly sipping his soup as Mimmy theatrically presented her plan to him. As distressing as the plan was, it was built on convincing foundations and would hopefully allow the pair to navigate through this investigation as under the radar as possible.

Draco sensed Hermione's arrival as she stepped through the Floo, so he called on Thrump to clear his plate as Draco made his way downstairs to greet her.

It was worrisome, to Draco, that he felt a pull as he descended the stairs, knowing that for the first time in weeks, he was getting to see the woman he so longed to see. He loved the feeling of seeing Hermione standing in his home, but this could only last so long. She would only entertain his requests to see her until she grew bored of him, and that's why he hated the way his stomach tightened when he saw her looking over the room like she felt right at home. He was growing more and more greedy each time he saw her, and it didn't help when Hermione looked like she belonged there.

"Don't focus on those too much." Draco finally spoke, watching Hermione approach a set of photos on a shelf. She jumped at his voice and shot him a dirty look before turning her attention back to the frames.

"You know telling me not to do something means I'm immediately going to do it, right?" She posed, scanning the faces in the photos. "Besides, they're just photographs of your parents from...when they were dating? They hardly look older than us. Oh! There we go, I think I've found the one you didn't want me to see." Hermione grinned slyly at Draco, lifting the photo to inspect it closer.

"Tell me, at what age did you start wearing boy's clothes?" She asked, turning the photograph to Draco. He winced, knowing it was a commemoration of his first birthday, and his mother had dressed him in a long white gown with more ruffles than one person needed. The ruffle-trimmed bonnet didn't help his case.

"It was ceremonial." Draco justified. "Tradition dictates that the first born Malfoy son is to be accepted as the future head of the Malfoy family on his first birthday, and part of that means wearing the birth robes of Tegid Malfoy, the first known head of the Malfoy clan." Draco wondered what Hermione was thinking when she smiled at him coyly.

"And here I was thinking only Weasleys wore hand-me-down robes."

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I walked into that, didn't I?"

"You really did." Hermione grinned and laughed at Draco's shame, unabashadley. While he was embarrassed to be compared to a Weasley, he was pleased to see her laughing after spending so long apart.

"All right, enough laughing at my expense, we need to plan for today's reconnaissance mission. Mimmy's been putting together a presentation with her suggestion, if you're interested." Draco gestured toward the door and Hermione followed him.

"That's more than I've done." She admitted as they walked up the stairs. "All the thought I've put into it is to use some kind of cover story since walking into the shop and saying 'hello, we're looking for a murderer who used one of your products, what can you tell us' likely won't produce any positive results."

"I can't say it would." Draco agreed. "Though I've considered just approaching the owner and straightforwardly asking if there's a way to know who used his untraceable Floo."

"If this is even who we're looking for." Hermione reminded Draco gently. "We're looking for a wizard that goes by Visionary, but the shop is called Utopian woodworking. We might not even find our untraceable charm designer tonight."

"I know." Draco responded, letting Hermione walk into the office first. "One can only hope."

"Miss Hermione!" Mimmy greeted Hermione with a flap of her ears. "Mimmy is so pleased to see Miss Hermione again." She reached her hand out and shook Hermione's hand with vigor.

"I'm pleased to see you too, Mimmy. I've heard you have a plan for us." Hermione responded, and Mimmy nodded enthusiastically, gesturing to the two chairs for Hermione and Draco to sit.

"Mimmy knows not if her plan will be chosen, but she believes it would help Master Draco and Miss Hermione travel without suspicion."

Hermione sat in the leather chair on the right and Draco took the left, both watching Mimmy as she stood in front of the unlit fireplace and prepared her case.

"Mimmy visited shops on Cantlebar road with her previous masters, and while a select few wizards knew the pair, most paid them no mind, seeing them as nothing more than a full wallet. Which is why Mimmy is suggesting that Miss Hermione pose as the partner of Master Draco."

Hermione was glad she hadn't been drinking anything because she might've choked had she been when Mimmy gave her suggestion.

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione hoped there was some clarification that would make this an easier proposition to digest. While she hadn't given much thought to their plan of attack, Hermione hadn't once thought to pose as Draco's partner. Perhaps it was just too close to what half her mind wished for, but she didn't know if it was a good idea.

"Miss Hermione acted as the wife of a wealthy wizard when she visited Borgin and Burkes." Mimmy pressed. "Mimmy saw it, Miss Hermione was quite believable!"

"I acted as the wife of some unknown character, not Draco." Hermione retorted, aware that her words had stung Draco, no matter how true they were. "Besides, how would it even be believable? We hardly look like a couple. Nor do we know how to act like one." Hermione shoved the memory of Draco's wandless magic lesson to the back of her mind. She didn't need that impacting her judgment.

"Mimmy didn't say it was a perfect plan." Mimmy blinked twice, trying not to let on that she'd developed this plan in hopes of acting as a catalyst to what she saw as an inevitable union between her master and her favorite person. She didn't know exactly how Hermione felt about Draco but Merlin, the two were just perfect for each other. They shared their traumas, supported each other's growth, conversed on any matter of subject, so if Mimmy could just get the two together for the briefest of times, maybe the two would see she was right.

"It is far from a perfect plan." Draco finally interjected, and Hermione was appreciative of his feedback, though she couldn't say she was thrilled to hear him say that he didn't like the plan. "Let's say Granger is recognised, which she will bloody likely be, having taken down the Dark Lord. While we're not as well known in Edinburgh, what's the likelihood that someone would believe that we're together? Most don't even know that we're on friendly terms."

"Which is why Miss Hermione changes her look. Dresses the part. Mimmy watched Master Lucius blend into the crowds when he wanted to make a questionable purchase. Despite his unique look, no one spared Master Lucius a second look."

"Why a partnership then?" Hermione asked. "Why not two wealthy individuals casually window shopping?"

"For a wholly domestic item? It would draw more attention to Miss Hermione and Master Draco if two people of marrying age were shopping for an item for one of their homes. While it might not appeal to Master Draco and Miss Hermione, Mimmy believes this plan is what is most likely to allow the two to traverse Cantlebar Road with minimal attention."

Hermione couldn't deny the logic. If they wanted to raise the smallest amount of suspicion, a wealthy couple shopping for their home would likely seem like just another couple passing through town.

"We'll give it thought, thank you, Mimmy." Draco dismissed the house-elf, who only hoped she had done enough to convince the pair that they really were a pair. Mimmy bowed, snapped her fingers to keep the teapot on the desk warm, and scooted out of the room.

"My proposition is to travel separately." Draco posed, wanting to offer Hermione something as different from Mimmy's suggestion as possible. He didn't particularly like the plan as he felt like he did his best work with Hermione by his side. "No one really knows we know each other in a positive light, so if we didn't work together but just both happened to be in the shop, no one would know that we were searching for a common goal."

"Until we both begin asking the same questions." Hermione theorized. "I mean, I can attend as support and just listen, but if we're not acting together, then we can't put our minds together for the most effective search." She scrunched her nose and Draco knew where this conversation was going. She was going to accept Mimmy's proposal, and Draco didn't know if that thrilled him or scared him.

"As foreign as it is, I think Mimmy's plan is relatively sound. It allows us to be on the same page without everyone around us questioning why we're working together. And while I don't know what it's like, I do assume having a certain amount of money keeps others from caring too much who you are."

"It does." Draco shrugged, aware that being wealthy had afforded him a level of anonymity in life that had greatly benefitted him when the Malfoy name became tainted in the public eye.

"Then that's it. We'll be...newly engaged. And in search of something imbrued with dark magic for our marital home." Hermione tried to sound as clinical as possible, though it didn't feel that way. And while she'd never admit it, the look in Draco's eyes at her statement didn't look all that clinical either.

"I suppose we will, Mrs. Malfoy."

A look passed between the two, and while the two halves of Hemrione fought over whether or not this was a good plan, they both agreed that there were worse things than being called Mrs. Malfoy.


"You have a lot of faith in a washed up Death Eater." Draco responded, noting how Hermione removed her hand from his with a tinge of sadness. He rather liked the way her small fingers clasped his with a false sense of confidence.