Hi! This is my first fic for this fandom! I'm a writer but for screenplay so bear with me! This was initially meant to be a one-shot but will now be a multi-fic.

Just a cute little smutty Dramione Ministry story because I needed a break from the long Dark Medieval times Dramione fic i've been working on since August. And also, why not!?

Enjoy!


Part 1


Hermione landed steadily in one of the several fireplace queues. She shuffled out and walked hastily through the Ministry Atrium. Her meeting with one of the third-party offices that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement outsourced ran longer than expected. She knew she would be running behind on the mountain of impending work on her office desk and she dreaded it.

As she passed the newly restored Fountain of Magical Brethren, Hermione called out for someone to hold the elevator as the automatic doors had begun to close. Clutching her small bag with her left hand, her right hand just barely jolted the sliding doors from shutting on her small fingers.

"I know you heard me asking to hold the lifts." Hermione barked with a caustic edge upon seeing the only person inconsiderate enough to have ignored her pleas.

Running his deft fingers through his perfectly groomed hair, Draco Malfoy asserted the petite woman with an amused smirk. "Did I? Didn't realize you acquired auditory empathy. Are you clairaudient? You should see someone about that."

"What would I be without all of your wisdom filled advice?" Hermione huffed begrudgingly as she adjusted her pencil skirt, smoothed over her tame curls, and straightened her blouse.

"You'd be slightly more dismal and desolate." His tone was casual as he pressed a button to their destination once she entered.

Hermione maintained her expression of distaste and stared at the lift doors. She felt Draco's eyes on her. He expected a reaction. The canny voice in her head never failed to scold her, tell her that she needed to avoid heeding to him at all costs even though he somehow managed to eventually cleave his way under her skin just enough to disrupt her fortitude.

Hermione had now been working as Head of the DMLE for a little over a year. Kingsley had her on a sure fire fast-track to becoming Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. It was all part of Hermione's fifteen year plan which had been adjusted to ten years after her abrupt break-up with Ron.

She was wildly focused on her career, now. It gave her something to keep her mind busy while simultaneously working with her best friend. That was until Harry made the decision to take an indefinite leave as Head Auror to become an at-home father and support Ginnys decision in signing a 5-year contract with he Holyhead Harpies.

Hermione was in no way averse to his decision. She admired the shameless role reversal. She was happy for her two best-friends success in marriage, parenthood, and careers. She wanted the best for them.

"I'm very excited for you, Harry. But, I still can't believe you left me with Malfoy." Hermione exasperated while Harry picked up her finished plate of food.

Hermione's complaint was melodramatic and voiced as farce. But, she had been stuck having to learn from and work with Draco Malfoy, who had been next in line for Head of Auror Offices.

Apparently, he was actually good at something.

It troubled her that she partially credited Draco for much of her impressive knowledge around the Auror Offices and other sub-divisions under her administration. Kingsley expected Hermione to grasp the inner functions of every department in the DMLE. Through all of their snide repartee, Draco unfailingly made sure she did. Harry had taught her quite a bit about the Auror Offices before he left. Draco, however, was concise, hands on, and did not believe in cutting corners. If Hermione was going to learn, he ensured she would the proper way.

Draco somehow cultivated healthy relationships with the entire organization, too. She had even overheard a considerable amount of witches and wizards associating him with the word charismatic.

Hermione snorted at the spurious description. Draco Malfoy was anything but. His sharp chin and nose may have curved into a fuller chisel while his pureblood manners, fine suits, and notable intuition for the criminal mind may have fooled everyone else, but to her, he was still the same indignant fool who had made her question her sense of self one too many times.

"It's been eight months," Harry shook his head knowingly at his dramatic friend. "And you're his superior. It should be you making his job unbearable."

Hermione pouted and turned to look at Ginny. "Do you know how stilted my pride has been having to learn anythingfrom that insufferable man?"

Ginny almost choked in amusement over her glass of red wine when she saw the look of contrition in her husbands expression. "He can't be that terrible if Harry thought he was best suited to overtake his duties," Hermione shot her friend an incredulous look and Ginny giggled before continuing. "We've had him over a few times with his Aunt and Teddy. He's become quite…charming. Great with children."

Harry walked into the kitchen to discard the dirty dishes.

"Ginerva Potter-Weasley, I am truly concerned that you've fallen off your broomstick one too many times. Malfoy? Monstrous mites with luscious silver hair are far from charming no matter how straight their teeth are—rebarbative is a much more conforming adjective for his like."

"You just called his hair luscious." Ginny said with a judgmental smirk.

Harry returned with a plate of strawberry scones. He set them on the table and found his place next to Ginny again. "How are you and McLaggen doing?" He opted to change the course of the conversation and Hermione was happy to oblige. Anything to avoid Ginnys suggestive, lopsided grin.

Hermione sighed. "Bland as usual. He isn't speaking to me this week."

"You don't care," Ginny commented. "As usual."

"He'll be fine. It's not like I didn't set clear boundaries in the beginning. He should know better than to have visited me at my place of work. I can't have any distractions. I need to be taken serious and establish a salient reputation." Hermione reached for a scone.

"Right." Harry refilled his wife's glass of wine and snagged a scone for himself. "Having a boyfriend just screams 'I can't be taken serious'. Never-mind the fact that you're Hermione-bloody-Granger."

"He is not, has never, and will never be my boyfriend. We've had tea a few times and that was all."

"And sex." Ginny pointed.

"That was a one time, non-repetitive occurrence."

"Gross." Harry groaned. "First Ron talking about Trish the other ni-"

Harry stalled completing his sentence when Ginny snapped her head to him, eyes wide.

"I-I mean—gross, Hermione. You deserve better." Harry stuffed his face so hard with the scone, he almost knocked his own eyeglasses off his face.

"Yeah, I agree." Ginny nodded.

Hermione flitted her eyes between the two. Their demeanor had shifted into a strange one. She grew tired of this; tired of them stepping on eggshells around her, of how things had changed. "How is Ronald by the way?"

"He's fine." Ginny answered quickly.

"Great. Same old Ron." Harry offered a nervous laugh.

There was an obvious hedge in the conversation.

"Right." Hermione finished her scone and dusted her hands together. "That is my cue as soon as you two start treating his existence like a taboo."

"Hermione…" Harry hesitated.

"We just—you haven't been the same since—well, since everything went down between the two of you. We only want to make sure you're okay."

"I have to be up before the sun. I should get going." She stood and gathered her things. "I need to mentally prepare for yet another eventful day with Malfoy, anyway."

The thought of seeing Draco comforted her more than it needed to in that moment. Albeit he was what she'd consider a professional agitator, he challenged her daily—gave her something to feel, regardless if it inflicted some wit-filled chafe.

Hermione offered both her friends tight hugs and they walked her to the door of Grimmauld Place. "Give James a big kiss for me?"

Ginny nodded and Harry pulled Hermione into another embrace, tighter and filled with a fervor edge that had been absent in the previous one. He held her for a few moments before letting her go.

We love you, do you hear me? I love you. You're my best mate. We'll talk later?"

Hermione responded to him with a small smile and nod as she got a better look at the face of her best friend. The years treated him well. His skin was pale, smoothed with his age that lined softly around his under eyes. Underneath the thick facial hair he managed to grow, he was every bit the timid, willful, loyal, bright-eyed boy she'd met in first year.

Once she was outside, she released a harsh breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

Ron. You're supposed to be my best friend, too.

She shut her eyes, rounded her shoulders, and apparated away.

The lift chimed on the second floor, pushing Hermione from the memory all those months ago. Draco allowed Hermione out first before he stepped forward.

Manners. She internally rolled her eyes.

"As always, it's been a pleasure, Granger." Draco started for the Auror Headquarters.

"Astringent seems more favorably authentic," With a grandiose purse of her lips, Hermione had begun her descent in the direction of her office. "Good day, Mister Malfoy."

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Hermione scribbled quickly on the parchment paper sealed against the clipboard in her hand. She followed Arthur Weasley through the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office as she conducted her weekly audit on the department. The previous Head had taken her through the process several times during her shadow entrance trial while she transitioned. Now, she reviewed a cabinet of alphabetically organized files that corresponded with a logged item and case number so naturally, she could practically complete the hour long audit in her sleep. Once she finished, she thanked Arthur and the other employees in the crammed room, and walked out.

With a relieved sighed, she tucked her hair behind her ear as she walked down the corridor. It hadn't been awkward seeing Arthur. Despite her lack of communication with Ron for almost two years, Arthurs treatment of Hermione remained unchanged. He still watched over her like his own and his attempts at jokes were still humorous in that 'too-old-father-isn't-really-that-funny' sort of way. He only ever brought up Ron in passing with his brothers, mentioned whenever 'the boys' were back and wreaking havoc on Molly. She didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one. It didn't matter. It was probably better that they abstained from delving into that discourse.

Hermione moved beyond the threshold of large wooden doors that lead into another corridor where her office was located. Immediately, she noticed Draco leaned over her secretary's desk, who's head tossed back in merriment at something Draco whispered into her ear.

Nothing he says could ever be that funny.

"Angela," Hermione piqued with a sweet smile, "This is probably the most sound and brutally honest advice you'll ever receive from me—run."

Angela abruptly stood straight with a blush on her face while Draco's expression was lax, eyeing Hermione. Almost as if he had staged this. Almost.

"Miss—Hermione—I have your tea, just the way you like it." She swallowed, eyes wide, cheeks as red as her hair, and nervous. It was clear the young woman felt embarrassed. Hermione knew Angela only ever aimed to impress her—and she did. She reminded Hermione of a younger, more eager to please version of herself. "A—and i've sent for your lunch to be delivered—from your favorite takeaway shop." The shaking woman handed Hermione the cup of tea, which had a warming charm on it.

"Thank you. I trust you aren't overworking yourself and will be going for your break soon?" Hermione perked a brow, purposefully ignoring Draco's warmly acute stare once more. The woman nodded enthusiastically and Hermione continued. "Any updates on the list of meetings this week?"

"Nothings changed. But, this was on my desk when I walked in." With a timid gesture, Angela passed a manila folder into Hermione's hand. Hermione swiftly analyzed its contents before shutting the folder to drag her haughty brown orbs toward Draco. "Wonderful." Hermione hummed as she took a sip of the hot tea her secretary had given to her. "I'll be in my office if you need me."

Hermione swayed curtly to her quarters, knowing all too well Draco was not far behind. She smiled at his predictability. It made her feel something warm that she pushed into the deepest crevices of her mind. She had been around him enough to know he only patronized her side of the Department when there was urgent business or he required upper management approval or review. It had only been a couple of weeks since she's had to closely bask in his cavalierpresence.

They had spent days working long nights on a complex case, primarily so that Hermione learned how to handle escalated issues that interdepartmentally crossed. She was relieved when it was finally over. She thought she had her moment to breathe. It was evidently short-lived.

She even suspected Draco enjoyed having the upper-hand being familiar in a subject that the Brightest witch of her age didn't.

"I always forget she exists," Draco shut the door to Hermione's office with his foot. "I'll have to frequent these corridors more often."

"Please refrain from your sordid serenading of my employee until I no longer require your…local insight of the Auror offices." Hermione settled herself behind her desk.

Draco strolled nonchalantly toward the chair directly across from her. "I'm only a man, Granger."

"And here I thought you were a beastly deplorable."

"Is that what you think of me? That what you like in a man?" Draco's lip quirked. He landed with a plop as he sat and made himself extra comfortable, stretching his legs over her desk, crossed at the ankles.

Hermione shot an irritated glare at his leather clad feet.

"Find another poor girls life to ruin for the time being if you can't contain your trousers."

"Fine." Draco said with a grey glint in his eye. "I suppose I seem to be ruining yours just fine."

"You overestimate your influence over me if you believe I'd ever give you the power to ruin any part of my life." She slammed her desk drawer as she pulled out an ink pot and quill and started writing. Draco simply chuckled and Hermione wondered if he was going to make his purpose for being there known. She had very important matters to tend to and would be most grateful to do that without Draco Malfoy lounging around her space.

A few silent moments went by, the friction of her scribbling the only tangible sound.

Hermione saw him wave his wand from the corner of her eye. Out of thin thin air appeared a copy of the Daily Prophet. He began to read the floating document aloud.

"Lets see who's the doomed lad this time."

Hermione craned her head up momentarily with a curious expression.

"Roe Fawley," He clicked his tongue and snorted. "A Hufflepuff. The name alone gave him away."

Hermione dipped her quill in the ink, attempting to appear calm and as to not reveal just how annoyed she was becoming. She already knew where this was going and she needed to control her wrist from shooting a Melefors Jinx his way. She needed to contain some semblance of professionalism.

"What else? Freckles, average test scores—ah! A Sacred 28 member, only, without the prestige and estate. I see a blueprint here. You have a type, don't you Granger?"

Hermione flared internally. "Jealous that my type isn't a silver haired, classist, Slytherin with deep seated fraternal issues who demonstrates obvious feelings of unwarranted importance out of overbearing pride?"

Draco watched Hermione, a satisfied grin painted across his smooth lips. Hermione turned back to filling out her report for the Department of Intoxicating substances.

Stop heeding him.

"I'm merely analyzing a pattern here. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong but, as long as you've been working the Ministry for the last what—seven years? You've been calculatedly private about practically everything, save for your imperious swottiness—that's a given—"

Hermione's eye twitched. Should she just cast the jinx now?

"—However, much like last month, this month, there's not only a story on page one of you prancing about in Hogsmeade with another ineligible git—complimented with photos," Draco used his wand to flip through the tabloid. He reclined himself, clearing his throat. "On page four in the Quidditch section, there also seems to be a corresponding story: Luck, love, and consanguinity is the Weasley seal. Ronald Weasley, Former Keeper of the Wimbourne Wasps recently celebrated his engagement to girlfriend of two years, Trisha Buttermere. This is following the long awaited moment when Ginerva and Harry Potter welcomed their first child, James Sirius Potter."

"I don't care for Skeeters fiend recap of what I'm already acquainted with in detail."

Draco surveyed Hermione closely. "You're subtle—not subtle enough."

She ignored him, focused on what she was writing.

"So tell me, Granger," His tone was mockingly cheerful. "Does this Fawley fellow know he was just a plot device for your bitter ex-girlfriend agenda and impressive control over Rita Skeeter—which by the way, I still want to know how you manage to keep her on a leash from publishing more awful hyperbole that she passes off as journalism."

"I'm not bitter." Was Hermione's confession after sometime.. She was not bitter. She moved on from Ron and he knew that. She hoped he knew. Hermione Granger did not stay stuck in the past.

"No?" Draco waved his wand and the Daily Prophet vanished. "I'm just to assume this has all been by chance then?"

Hermione paused. She licked her lower lip before setting down her quill and slowly standing from her seat. Draco watched her as she slithered around the side of her desk where Draco's feet were pointed.

"Auror Malfoy."

"Yes?"

"What does Kingsley think I'm in dire need of help with now to assign you to me once again?"

Draco seemed to consider Hermione for a moment before he stuck his arm out to grab a trinket on Hermione's desk. "Nothing today that I'm aware of."

Hermione watched his hands play with the dormant golden snitch Ginny gifted her as a good-luck charm when she had been hand-picked her for her current position. They were large and looked rough but, gentle at the same time.

Hermione shook the inappropriate direction her mind fought to wander toward and lifted her chin with a tight smile. "Then get out."

Draco was unprepared for the harsh thrust when Hermione forced his feet off her desk. Her expression was triumphant as he gathered himself.

There was a knock at the door before her secretary Angela entered with Hermione's lunch, placed it on her desk, and excused herself.

Draco stood, looming over Hermione with a dark smile. "I hope Roe Fawley is everything your heart desires. Merlin knows, you're not what he desires. He wouldn't be able to handle your irascible nature.

Hermione frowned, wishing she could rip his perfectly groomed hair to shreds along with his priggish grin.

Irascible nature? How dare he? What would he possibly know about someones capacity to deal with me as if I'm an enigma of unpleasant surprises?

Draco invaded the breadth of space left between them. "Oh Granger," He peered menacingly at her. "I wouldn't say you're unpleasant."

Hermione bit down on her tongue as her thoughts went cold but, her body betrayed her as it moved into an uncharacteristic degree of heat.

"Stay out of my head."

"I don't have to perform Legillimens to know what that big brain of yours is thinking. It's written all over your pretty little face." His voice was low, raspier, and she quickly felt the loss of his warm breath when he stepped back.

Hermione attempted to school her expression at the acclamation?

"You may have terrible taste in men." Draco snagged half of Hermione's sandwich, sinking his teeth into it.

His throat bobbed with a masculine prominence when he swallowed. Something within her vibrated. She wanted to look away.

"Mmm," Draco hummed, mouth half full, flicking away some crumbs as he turned to leave her office. "But, at-least you have impeccable taste in sandwiches."

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"Granger, can't stay away from me?" Hermione had become accustomed to the innate reaction of rolling her eyes whenever she recognized that gravelly voice. She stepped aside as Draco exited the destination of interest just as she was going to enter before running into him.

"I couldn't be far enough. If you must know, I have a very important meeting with Kingsley."

Draco had one hand stuffed in his trousers which matched the rest of his fine suit. "How delightful. I just had myself one of those special meetings with the Minister. He's a fine man."

"Hopefully to inform him of your resignation?" Hermione placed her hand over her heart in feigned elation.

Draco tutted. "I couldn't resign just yet. Things are finally getting good around the office." His stance was tall and broad as he circled in on her.

"Did someone finally let you know that wearing that," Hermione flicked his tie. "—suggests you like to sell cockroaches disguised as cauldron cakes for double the price?"

Draco's eyes were glued to Hermione's hand. Almost as if the contact dazed him.

"Has my tie become your newest kink, Granger? I can give you a tour of my collection one day if your predilections become…overbearing."

Something about his enunciation of predilection kindled a teetering scale in her lower abdomen. It felt like a corporeal betrayal to her mind.

"May I remind you that I am your direct supervisor." Hermione's eyes caught the dancing smirk tugged at his lips and looked back up at him. "I would never want to see your ghastly collection of ties."

"Ah, you want me trembling in anticipation. Well, I do love a woman on top."

Hermione scoffed in forced disgust. "You're still as foul as you look. Now if you'll excuse me, Kingsley awaits."

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Hermione barged through the ligneous oak double doors leading into the Auror Offices. It was a cavern of crowded cubicles extending deep out of scope, lit with candles, and memos spurting with verve. Hermione's heels clacked against the smoothed mineral floor and stopped right ahead of the Head of Auror office. She overheard quieted mutters from the surrounding Aurors as she rounded her shoulders before pressing the tip of her wand at the crack of the warded doors until she was granted access. She walked through and sealed them behind her.

"Why was this on my desk? I have no jurisdiction dealing with magical forensic evidence. That is for the magical forensics section." Hermione slapped a thick folder directly over the work Draco was concentrated on.

She wasn't actually angry. Maybe a bit stressed with the additional task on-top of the pile of memos and work she needed to dissolute regarding the other ten offices and departments she oversaw.

The moment she realized what it was as when Angela handed her the documents as she walked in this morning, Hermione relished at the opportunity to brave him in his office for once. They'd usually work on cases or assignments in the conference room down the hall or, on occasion in her office when he rushed in last minute with critical news that demanded they stay past normal work hours. But, she had never been in his office since being elected Head of the Auror Offices.

Draco, just as the rest of his office, was neat and orderly; trimmed white hair, grey shirt, black slacks and bright silver eyes. He had a large calendar with legible objectives, dates, and events plastered on the wall adjacent to him. Binders, books, and boxes of documents occupied a shelf on the back wall, and his desk was spacious with a framed photo of Lucius and Narcissa looking as regal as ever. She even noticed a trinket of his own—a long upward spiraling snake made from moonstone.

"It was addressed to you, was it not?" Draco leaned back, seemingly unbothered with Hermione's attempted burst at imposing on him. "I'm well aware of how the line of responsibility and succession runs in my division. It wasn't a mistake. I don't often have room for error in my work."

Hermione didn't budge her assertive tone and stoic expression. "That's news to me. You seem to have just made one."

Draco clasped his hand over his desk and raked his eyes with an almost moderate restraint over Hermione's form before motioning his head. "Please, sit."

She recognized that tone.

It reached out and brushed something unorthodox inside of her. It appeared whenever he wore his 'Head of Auror Offices' mask. He was confident, serious, methodical. It was the only time Hermione found him bearable to be around and even—dare she say—to some degree, magnetic.

Hermione sat and crossed her legs. "Make it quick. Kingsley arranged a meeting with someone in your department regarding a unique case that he believes will further help my developments as Head."

"You're right on time." He smirked knowingly.

Hermione's mouth parted slightly.

Of course.

She should have known better. That it would be with none other than Draco Malfoy.

Which indicated that it was important.

She had briefly reviewed the contents of the folder but nothing about the case stood out to her as anything prominent. What she had skimmed over appeared redundant. It was a case that received a bench trial months ago.

"One of my Aurors identified a Death Eater who had been a high profile fugitive on my radar. He was found dead—murdered earlier this year."

"Willan Selwyn, yes. I've been briefed on this." She pointed to the now infamous folder. "I'm vaguely familiar with the details. I was never assigned to spectate this particular case when it saw it's day in the Wizengamot."

"Typically, we don't concern ourselves with dead Death Eaters wanted for house-elf trafficking rings. Especially when they're involved with all kinds of criminals, it's difficult to narrow down who would want his head. But, his wife Moira Selwyn was just declared dead about an hour ago. The magical autopsy just confirmed the cause of death."

"And?" Hermione perked a brow. She was a student first no matter her position, she reminded herself. She needed to keep an open mind if she were going to succeed.

Draco waved his wand and a file floated from one of the many boxes on the back wall. When it slid into his hand, he opened it and slid it across the desk, facing Hermione. She was startled to see a moving photo of a distraught house-elf posing, holding up a board with numbers, and wearing shackles.

"Nimisera—former servant to the Selwyns is our prime suspect. We believe they're connected."

Draco lifted a brow at Hermione's sudden silence as she stared at him with alarm.

"What?"

He grinned, as if he had been looking for that exact reaction. "It's quite a messy case. The Selwyns are pressing charges to have Nimisera receive the harshest punishment for her crimes."

Hermione's expression hardened as it shifted. "Nimisera was one of the first house-elves I registered as free. That's who they believe murdered that vile Death Eater? Absolutely not, this is opprobrious and illegal. The case needs to be thrown out immediately."

"Ah, you're beautifully predictable."

Hermione felt warm when she should've felt trodden.

"I didn't dedicate five years to the DRCMC solely to indulge in books all day. My approach and success there was purposeful, humane, and effective, all with an emphasis on house-elf rights. There's no reason why anyone should have sent me this blasphemy. That elf is protected under the Stockholm Act of section four—"

"Yes, yes, I'm awfully familiar with your legislation Granger, and I share your sentiments. However, the prosecutor is pushing for a fair trial, especially now that house-elves are considered equal to man and wizard. If they can prove Nimisera murdered the wife, I'm most certain they'll claim partial bias influenced the Wizengamots initial decision and ask for an appeal on Willans case."

Hermione bit her lip at the bile of dismay that rose. Her passion and desire for justice and wreaking nothing but regulatory havoc on a system that operated oppressively against magical creatures and muggles overtook her.

Kingsley wanted Hermione to work on what would soon be her first appellate case.

This one in particular smelled absolutely rotten.

"This will not be your first appeal?" Hermione questioned, genuinely curious how deep Dracos experience and knowledge went.

All the years she'd spent working in the DRCMC, not once did she consider that Draco had made himself a reliable asset within the Ministry.

"No. This would be my third." Draco answered. "I worked closely with Harry when I was Auror. He allotted me responsibilities beyond my pay grade."

"Not that it affected you." Hermione mumbled

Draco's mask cracked and his grey's shone with a beaming expression before the bulge at his throat bobbed when he swallowed and adjusted his mask once more.

"It may not surprise you but, monetary compensation is not what keeps me here."

"Then what does?"

There was a daring hesitance.

"Judgement." There was credence to his words.

Hermione snorted.

"That's ironically honest of you."

"Have I ever proven otherwise? That I'm not an honest man? Do you prefer I lie and betray?" There was no menace in his voice, just a sort of practicality.

"No. Of course not." Hermione snapped. Draco was evaluating her, watching her choose her next words with an expectant gaze. She sat straighter, attempting to curb the shudder that ran down her spine. "You may have proven to have been unduly honest in the past. But, I appreciate a person with integrity."

He smiled.

"You think I have integrity?"

"You're getting there." Her lips spread in an amused upturn, refusing to fully compliment him.

The way his eyes traveled with slight over her arms, hands, and face had her wondering what he was thinking. Was he criticizing her attire? Her freckles? Her hair? Did he like it?

Why would he? You don't don't want him to.

"Then we will move forward." He nodded his head as he shut the folder. "Please review the entire case in depth. I've hired two new Aurors in training and I'm putting them on the case as well. I know how much responsibility is on your shoulders today. We will go over Moira Selwyns murder tomorrow."