So, this has turned into a mini multi-chapter story. I have more than 20k words written and it's so close to being complete. I got a bit carried away. The next chapter is going to be uploaded in the next hour or so.

Also, I took liberties with the law here. Nothing is concrete. I don't think there's much structure in the justice/law system at he Ministry or Wizarding world, especially post war. I'm assuming the stability and strength is still being built and restructured which is why the prosecution here is really anyone allowed to challenge the Ministry and their handling of cases. I take a lot of verbiage from American law. Thats it. I let my imagination run with this one. Theres no wrong or right lol.

Enjoy!


Part 2


The week was exhausting. Hermione had been uniting with Draco and his two Aurors in training for the murder case, newly graduated students from Hogwarts—Aidan Moon and Owen Corner.

Their sessions took place after midday in the conference room. A connective diagram of possible suspects and the victims were magically strewn across the wall, while Draco went over the basics of their functions and expectations involving Dark Arts offenses. The young men jotted down notes and asked questions while Hermione sat back, and observed him.

She particularly enjoyed his tongue and how it would click against his palate to further demonstrate his words. When the young men did not respond immediately to his questions, Draco never looked disappointed but, the crease between his eyebrows would deepen and he'd look around before reformulating his lesson as a hypothetical.

He commanded the room. Even as he loosened his tie after over-analyzing reports. She could pick up when the cogs began reeling in his mind as he struggled to allow himself to assume the point of view of the murderer.

He was magnetic.

Hermione did her best to remain quiet during these moments of teaching. She long learned her lesson about never taking a learning opportunity from someone. And she also wanted to establish her authority. Draco ensured they knew exactly who Hermione Granger was, instilling the gravity of her importance.

She caught his gaze slipping to her when he commended her, seeking a favorable reception from Hermione. She had no choice but to school her features into neutrality despite a part of her taking delight in the idea that he sought her approval.

Hermione had already forgone the training the young men were going through with Harry and Draco. She had been required to go through all eleven of the departments basic preparedness. She knew her moment to learn would come. However, she couldn't help the precipitous insert of a new idea or suggestion. Especially when she was so enchanted with a new finding that she just had to bring attention to what Draco had overlooked.

Draco was intrigued whenever Hermione spoke up. She would catch him trying to contain a grin as he smirked with his steely blue orbs. He never failed to thank her with a deep breath, a nod of appreciation, and swift turn of his body, before advancing along the missive he followed.

It was now Monday morning and the first day of the preliminary hearing taking place in one of the courtrooms of the lower dungeons. Hermione was seated at the raised benches for parliament members in her dark Ministry Robes. To the right of her, Kingsley Shacklebolt sat, both their lower halves shielded by the Minister podium.

Further up from them were Wizengamot officials in their signature plum attire. Draco sat at the very last row beneath Hermione in his Auror robes, intently watching the ashened elf being questioned by Albert Pritchard under oath. Aiden and Owen were shadowing Draco a couple of seats away from him, writing pads and quills in hand.

"Nimisera, you served house Selwyn for approximately two generations, correct?" Pritchard's question echoed through the large cathedral sounding space.

"Yes." The small, shaky elf responded in her seat as the man circled her.

"And you enjoyed serving them?" He pushed, hands joined together behind his back.

Draco shot up. "Minister, she cannot answer the question as protected under the Stockholm Syndrome Act. The defendant was under involuntary servitude at the time and her mental state was considered compromised and under duress."

Shacklebolt waved his hand agreeably. "Counsellor Pritchard, please rephrase your question."

"Nimisera, we have an official statement recorded here with your release papers when you were freed." The man in billowing black robes handed the document to Nimisera. Hermione noticed the tense posture of the poor elf on the witness chair in the middle of the oval room. "Please read this."

"N-Nimisera is very very happy with Miss Mudblood Granger." The thin elf stuttered as she read aloud. "Nimisera no l-longer will be afraid of M-master Selwyns flogs a-and Nimisera will not wait days to eat. Nimisera can now be happy with Ritty."

Hermione bit her lip. Her stomach churned. There was a look of dark amusement on Pritchard's tight barbed face when he glanced at her briefly. Hermione had no idea why the man was still allowed near the Ministry.

Come to think of it, Kingsley had expressed his disdain for Albert Pritchard in passing.

Hermione schooled her expression and studied the people around her carefully. She saw Draco twist his neck in obvious discomfort. The innocent statement she had been physically present for was being deviously influenced for the prosecutions advantage.

"Could you tell the Wizengamot today who Ritty is?" Pritchard questioned.

"Objection, Minister! Relevance." Draco asserted. Hermione could see the outline of his unflawed side profile when he looked back at Kingsley expectantly.

"Counsellor?" Kingsley raised a warning brow at Pritchard.

"It will become apparent, Minister." Pritchard stated with an overtly satisfied victor.

Kingsley sighed and motioned for him to continue. All the while Hermione could only picture Draco's bluish veins from underneath his robes swelling with the way his fist curled, pressed to his mouth, indicating his impatience.

Seeing him so invested and in his element moved trickles of sparks up her legs and down her arms.

"Ritty was Nimiseras one true love." Nimisera kept her eyes downcast."Nimisera served the great great grandparents of House Selwyn with Ritty. Ritty took lots of care of Mistress Moira."

"And who did you mostly tend to?" Pritchard was a sheer bastard.

"Nimisera took lots of care of Master Willan."

"How would you describe your relationship with Moira Selwyn?"

"Nimisera would get very angry at Mistress Moira. Mistress Moira never let Ritty rest or clean with Nimisera."

Hermione expected for Nimisera to lift her eyes again at some point. It was odd. Her eye contact had been timid yet faultless up until Pritchard questioned her about her elf-lover. Draco must have realized this, too because he looked back toward Hermione. Their minds were in sync as they stared at each other quizzically.

"And now Ritty is dead, along with Moira, is that correct?"

"Hearsay! Minister, this is inadmissible information." Draco stood up once more to object.

"Hearsay implies information that I cannot substantiate. Ritty, the elf's swain, is dead. I have the documentation to prove it."

"Minister, I can assure you this was not a part of the discovery file." Draco retorted.

Kingsley lifted his chin at Pritchard. "Is this true?"

"I assumed the defense received the autopsy reports. Although, my associate is more familiar with the paperwork and how it's distributed." Pritchard said slyly.

Hermione watched the alleged associate stand. She recognized him. It was Wesley Selwyn. Father of the deceased Death Eater, Willan.

How convenient.

Now it was clear who hired Pritchard to challenge the courts.

"We only just received confirmation of the third victim yesterday night. I assumed someone would have been efficient enough to inform you." Pritchard shrugged, feigning ignorance.

"We weren't." Draco said with a seething accusation. "Which means it was withheld illegally from discovery."

"Officer Malfoy," Kingsley warned, gesturing him to settle down before he turned back to Pritchard. "Do you have the official Auror report on this murder, Counsellor?"

Wesley walked to Pritchard and handed him a few forms before he made his way to Kingsley and handed him the reports. Kingsley reviewed the documentation and invited Hermione to edge closer and consult with him.

A disturbing wave of anguish swept over her. It was awful what had been done to Ritty. But, it was authenticated documentation. It confirmed former house-elf Ritty was indeed dead.

Murdered.

It went against everything Hermione believed.

"Very well. It is admissible." Kingsley said almost with a groan as he pounded the hardwood gavel. "The Wizengamot is dismissed. We will move forward with the trial. Officer Malfoy, you and your defense will be allowed a full copy of the murder reports and we will reconvene Wednesday morning."

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"I don't trust Wesley Selwyn."

Hermione was leaned against Dracos desk as he gathered his belongings. It was a little past five and the case had been swimming around in Hermione's head all day. After Kingsley had adjourned, Aiden, Owen, and Draco reviewed the new discovery information once they understood the angle of the prosecution. Hermione left Draco to prep their witness and go through everything necessary. He promised he would get her up to speed by the end of the day, which is why she'd been in his office for almost an hour.

"Neither do I. They're trying to paint Nimisera out to be a jealous ridden monster who committed three murders out of rage."

"No one is daft enough to believe that poor elf is capable of triple homicide." She watched as he buttoned up his outer robes and struggled with a particular button. She slapped his hand away before replacing her hands with his. "We know what heinous, mad, and evil looks like. That elf is innocent."

Her fingers looped seamlessly up his chest as she continued to seal his robes together.

"I know you've done a thorough sweep of corruption within the DRCMC while Potter and I worked hard to destabilize political bias here but, blood prejudice and conservative creature ideals still exist further up in the hierarchy. There will be those who will side with the prosecution. They don't care whether that elf is actually guilty or not. They care to push back on the changes they're being threatened with."

He would know. He's one of them. Or was one of them. His stance on magical being policy may have shifted but, she could never quite gauge him.

Or maybe she refused to.

"It's a good thing you're Head of Auror Offices, then." Hermione looked up to meet his fixed expression on her. "It helps, you know, that they see you as one of them."

She patted his chest after she clicked the last button at his neck and stepped back.

"Granger…"

"It doesn't bother me anymore. What they think of me. I know I'm a hazard to their outdated ways. And I know what I believe is right. I'm no less or better than them either, regardless if they believe my blood is tainted."

"I know." He took another pair of steps toward her. His expression held a warm intensity as he stared down at her. "You never need to prove yourself to me." His jaw twitched. "Kingsley knows precisely what the prosecutions agenda is. That's why he put you onto this. I told him to."

She knew it.

Well, she suspected Kingsley had an ulterior motive allowing such a smearing case to even make it to a preliminary hearing with the entire Wizengamot present. She had no idea Draco specifically requested her.

It wasn't a terrible idea to have her on it. In fact, her involvement further pushed their devotion to the corruption cleansing they'd been working on for years. The fact that Draco ordained himself in it made her view him differently.

There was some integrity behind that insufferable arrogance.

"You're staring. One might question your upbringing."

Hermione rolled her eyes in an attempt to quash the small blush that crept around her ears.

"You'd be surprised just how universal basic manners are across muggles and non-muggles." She crossed her arms and started on a path to leave.

"I don't see you any different than myself." He stopped her, the hand that clasped her forearm releasing her like it stung. "I hope you know that. If I have done anything to make you feel otherwise, tell me. You are my equal."

Hermione suddenly felt thirsty. That passive roil of warmth washed over her again. He held her gaze with almost a pained expression. Draco looked like he'd said something wrong. He didn't realize she was being playful with him.

"You haven't." She assured him with a small smile. "However, you're wrong about one thing. We are not equal."

Draco offered her a questioning pout.

"I have higher intelligence clearance than you." She perked with an exultant boast.

There was that signature little smile and gleam in his shadowy irises.

"I think you want me at your mercy, Granger. I'll grovel if it's what you truly want. I've said before, I do love a woman on top."

Hermione fought a slow longitudinal smile. "Good evening, Mister Malfoy." She turned to leave with the sure feeling that Draco hadn't taken his eyes off her as she exited his office.

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The trial went horribly awry. A unanimous decision gave the prosecution a conviction and Nimisera was found guilty of using Dark Arts to Murder Moira Selwyn. Hermione was upset but understood why Kingsley chose to follow through with the conviction despite the prosecutions lazy, prejudiced objective. She he only prayed it was well worth the long term goal in setting a zero-tolerance precedent.

As Malfoy predicted, the prosecution used the victory to declare a Wizengamot mistrial on the Willan Selwyn murder.

"We've received an appeal regarding the magical forensic evidence on Willan Selwyn. They're claiming we omitted information that could have prosecuted the defendant." Draco was standing in the conference room leaned forward with his hands pressed palm down on the table.

"Who do we report to when there's a forensic mishandling?" Aidan asked.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek when she saw the look on Dracos face. From the vantage point of someone unfamiliar to his small quirks, he was imperceptible.

But to her, she saw him bracing his weaponry of a smug-hidden retort.

"I've made it my sole objective to delineate a comprehensive vetting system and avoid corrupt sentencing. We rarely ever grant appeals under the basis of 'forensic mishandling'." Draco responded, watching the two men squirm uncomfortably under his hard tone. "You'll report to me if such findings arise. Hermione, where do we go from here?"

He was being formal, respectful, setting an example for the men and how they were expected to address her. However, she still had to adjust to the the use of her first name falling from his lips.

Hermione looked up to see Draco staring at her, awaiting a response. She thought back to his question: Where do we go from here?

If the appeal was regarding forensic evidence on the Willan Selwyn murder to connect the one Nimisera was just convicted for, then, "We utilize forensic evidence to discredit the prosecutions theory by introducing irrefutable facts to their expert witness during questioning. It's a classic preface to deny the appeal and propose a new suspect."

"Beautifully brilliant." Draco murmured absentmindedly and one of the young men chuckled. Draco shot them a deathly glare. "We need to bury the evidence with new ones. Even if we know Nimisera had nothing to do with Moiras murder, we need to prove she did not murder Willan—clues that we missed, evidence that contradicts their claims—"

"Can we run another diagnostic on the wand to see if there were any other spells cast at the time of the alleged murder?" Owen interrupted eagerly.

"The Department of Magical Equipment control already ran multiple scans. Did you not read up on the latest case updates?" Draco shot him down.

"We can argue the Stockholm defense. I've read all about Hermione Grangers legi—"

"If you think I'm a hard sell, Hermione Granger is solid stone. The concept of impressing someone means you need to stand out." Draco dismissed Aidan tiredly. "And I've already had someone prep Nimisera for that."

Hermione stared up at him impassively, not allowing her expression to betray the spasm of warmth in her heart. She was slightly amused with Draco's harsh ostracism and simultaneous compliment of her. Poor Aidan just wanted to prove he was well rounded in her legislation.

Draco was the one that stood out to her in that moment, though.

"Is she taking any medicines? Maybe we can argue sleepwalking. It'll protect her under the Stockholm Act of listed traumas." Aidan bounced back unhindered. He was persistent. A good quality that she knew Draco silently appreciated.

"A healer has informed us that she only consumes an herbal prescription for her magical arthritis." Draco pushed himself to stand straight. He put one hand in his pant pockets and the other massaged his temple to ease the headache he appeared to be warding off.

Hermione watched him close his eyes. For a slowing of time, she imagined he'd look peaceful asleep, with his usually groomed hair tousled just above his eyelids.

Stop heeding him, Hermione. Think.

"Wait." Something struck her. "The Prior Incantato demonstrated the crucio curse was used. Arthritis causes magical inflammation which would make it impossible to perform any sort of wand magic."

Draco's eyes snapped open. The way they pierced through her disrupted a dam of water in her lower belly.

His lip curled.

She'd just given them the perfect defense to build off of.

"What am I paying you two for? I'm not here to micromanage you two gits," Draco addressed the two young men. "Don't expect her to do all the thinking for you moving forward."

"Officer Malfoy, I'm quite flattered." Hermione feigned indifference as she stood from her seat and readied herself to leave when she noticed the time, growing ire of Draco's badgering she knew was part of his mental initiation for prospective Aurors.

She didn't agree with his tactics but, somehow his methods had proven effective. He managed to fill the Auror Offices with adept and pragmatic witches and wizards in only thirteen months. "Though, I think the boys deserve a little more credit, no? They've done fabulous work. No doubt because of your unyielding dedication for fair judgement."

Draco chuckled dryly. Hermione smiled at the two young men who blushed at her kindness and she excused herself, heading for the door.

"You're right. Where would I be without your counsel?" His tone was casual, laced with a figurative wager.

Hermione's hand paused on the doorknob and spun her head back at Draco. "You'd be slightly more dismal and desolate."

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The prosecution presented their expert witness and proceeded first with their line of questioning. They rested and it was now Draco's turn to question the prosecutions witness.

"Healer Bridges, you've specialized in magical injury and illnesses for a long time, correct?" Draco straightened his cuffs and commandeered the entire room as he approached the woman.

That tone. Hermione recognized it, liked it.

"Yes, that is correct. I've been in this field for about forty years, receiving certifications in London, France, and Japan. I also studied muggle pathology in Switzerland."

"You're familiar with magical arthritis then, yes?"

"I am." The Healer nodded. Her eyes flitted to Pritchard.

"Could you explain to the Wizengamot today what that is?" Draco didn't allow her enough time to seek guidance from him.

Her response needed to be of candid impartibility.

"Well, to understand Magical arthritis, one must understand it's muggle derivative." The woman on the witness chair wrung her hands together. "Arthritis quite literally translates to joint inflammation which causes stiffness, dullness, burning, and overall discomfort where two bones meet. There are many different types of diagnoses for muggle arthritis as well as its causes."

"I'm sorry Minister, are we here for a lesson on magical anatomy or to seek justice for wrongful murder?" Pritchard broached with a condescension from the area he was seated.

"Officer Malfoy, please explain the relevance of this?" Kingsley said.

There it was again. She knew it was coming. The subtle tic of his right eye told her he'd been waiting for this moment.

"It will become apparent, Minister."

So smug. So perceptible. Only to her.

"Very well. Healer Bridges, you may proceed." Kingsley wagged a hand for the woman to continue.

"Magical Arthritis effects the entire body and typically occurs as a direct result of overt magical trauma that has been deemed irreversible with any form of magical remedies, including potions and herbs. The only form of healing available is a therapeutic tea of crushed dittany and liquified aconite. It only reduces pain. It does not cure or inhibit the disease from occurring."

The healer gave Draco exactly what he needed to build from there. He was brilliant.

"Healer Bridges, please confirm the medical diagnoses of Nimisera." Draco hands her a paper to review and walks over to give Kingsley, Hermione, and the prosecution a copy. Hermione pretended to review the information as she was already familiar with the document.

"She indeed has been diagnosed on three different occasions with Magical Arthritis." Kingsley confirmed to the court.

There were scattered whispers about.

Draco stretched his neck softly and turned back to the expert witness. "You also testified at Moira Selwyns trial and are familiar with her autopsy report as well?"

"Yes, I am."

"Can you describe the difference between the two murders?"

"Well, at first blush they are very distinct. One was obviously very violent and the other appeared more pre-meditated. But, a more in-depth review indicates that they were both crucio'd by someone well versed in the Dark Arts."

"And how were you able to come to this conclusion?"

"Objection, Minister leading the witness!"

"Overruled." Kingsley batted his hand, not even bothering to entertain the futile objection.

Hermione could paint out the faint auspicious lines around Dracos mouth as he motioned for Healer Bridges to continue.

"The autopsy reports indicated that both Moira and Willan suffered approximately five minutes of crucio trauma before the killing curse was cast. In my professional healing experience, only highly trained Dark Wizards have been able to pull off such a cast. And in many instances it was a method of interrogation torture."

"Oh, please!" Pritchard clamored disruptively. "Your father must be abhorred by how you're diluting the Malfoy name." He spat toward Draco.

Hermione gasped at the mans brash audaciousness. She quickly looked to Draco for his reaction, hoping that hadn't offended him.

"Order, !" Kingsley scolded when a domino effect of shuffling ensued around the entire courtroom

Draco didn't look like the mans words impacted him in any way. A simple smile dressed his lips."This is your witness, . Surely you're confident in the validity of their assessment?"

Yes.

Draco tilted his head awaiting an answer he knew he wouldn't get before proceeding. "Healer Bridges, is it medically possible for Nimisera to have cast a deadly curse?"

"No. In fact, it is my expert opinion that if any three of the Unforgivable Curses were cast at any magnitude by someone with magical arthritis, the repercussions would be physically paralyzing, quite literally speaking."

Draco shot his head at Hermione and she blushed. She could practically hear his appraisal.

Beautifully brilliant.

Draco paused, allowing the mass of Wizengamot personal to process his defense.

He cleared his throat.

"We know the weapon used to allegedly murder both victims was a wand belongingto Willan, obviously done to frame the defendant and confuse evidence which should point to a more fitting suspect. Members of the Wizengamot and Minster—Nimisera has already been wrongfully convicted of the murder of Moira Selwyn, and the idea of a retrial for Willan Selwyns death is not only ridiculous but unjust."

Hermione smirked inwardly. He was good.

"The defense rests."

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Hermione was in her office, responding to over twenty memos that were zipping back and fourth between her and the other departments of the DMLE. She had been so swamped with work, she'd pulled her hair up into an effortless messy bun. She rubbed the back of her neck as she reviewed the papers before her.

"Am I interrupting?"

"No more than usual." Hermione remarked. She hadn't heard him enter.

Draco slithered in and sat directly on Hermione's desk beside where she sat, disturbing the slew of scattered paper on the surface. She reflexively looked up at him. It'd been days since she'd seen him without a parade of Ministry personnel between them.

"How can I serve you today, Mister Malfoy?"

"I'm here to serve you but you if you insi—"

"Get to the point." It was quarter past five. He should have left or at-least remained on his side of the floor. She wanted to finish her final tasks of the day.

She heard some shuffling. Draco unfurled the Daily Prophet from inside his black blazer.

"Oh no please don't—

"You did this to yourself Granger. Fawley didn't work out so you went back to McLaggen?" Draco's interests in Hermione's love life had been bordering impossibly obnoxious. She wondered if his interest went beyond just being a pretty faced boil on her arse.

"Malfoy, if Kingsley or Harry hadn't vouched for you, I would have reported you multiple times and fired you by now."

"Oh, Granger. I think you secretly enjoy me."

Stop heeding him.

"If I did, what would it matter?"

Or not.

"It matters a lot." He leaned forward to place his elbows on his thighs. "You keep returning to that lanky prick. He must be special to you."

His face was unreadable.

Hermione nudged his thigh and he brushed it back against her. Her heart stuttered at the limited contact. She gulped and lowered her head to hide the heat rising around her neck.

"…I'm not actually seeing McLaggen. I think he finally grew tired of waiting for me." Hermione laughed dryly. "I only had Rita Skeeter print some old photos of us out for tea. I did it to get Fawley to stop sending me a marriage contract after only two measly dates. They weren't recent."

"Fawley wouldn't last." He said with a sure confidence, his demeanor seemingly more relaxed. She couldn't tell if that was supposed to be an insult. "You're still not going to tell me how you have Skeeter wrapped around your dainty little finger?"

"That information is reserved for me and only me."

Draco slid off the desk and walked to sit across from her. He threw his legs over her desk, once again making himself uninvitingly comfortable.

"I'll get it out of you one day." His voice was smooth and even enticing. She avoided eye contact. "I should mention, there have been new advancements on the Nimisera installment."

"I thought Kingsley denied the second case and was going to acquit Nimisera for Moiras murder."

"He did. But, someone leaked the entire case to the press. Albert bloody Pritchard made some bold statements. Some rubbish about justice for Ritty the elf. He might actually have a case with this one. His strategy could get Nimisera the execution sentence."

What an opportunist. "With public pressure and attention, this is sure to attract politically charged comrades of a particular breed."

"I'm ashamed to be affiliated with said breed."

"As you should."

"Granger, that tongue of yours is colorfully sharp today. Might have to do something about that."

Hermione's throat felt thick, and she swallowed it away.

"It's been a long day." She confessed, feeling safer shifting the conversation. "I know you'll keep Nimisera safe and find the real culprits behind the murders. I'll get in touch with my connections in P.R. and find who leaked this case. In the meantime, I'll draft up a gag order for Kingsley to issue as soon as possible."

"Save it for Monday," His tone was suspiciously casual. He paused and scratched his head. He was contriving something he wanted to say. "I'm here to escort you out, actually."

"I can see myself out of this building just fine. I've been doing it long enough."

She didn't have plans with him this evening. Not once had he invited her anywhere. They've never stepped out beyond the Ministry together, so what in Merlins name was he up to?

"You forgot?" Draco sniggered after a moment of studying her form.

"Forgot what—" Hermione's eyes widened when she glanced at her calendar.

It was Teddy's birthday.

How could she let it slip her mind? Maybe she shouldn't have let the owls pile a junk of mail on her window sill at home.

She was almost done with her work checklist. Couldn't she just send a gift in lieu of her absence?

No.

Harry would maul her if she skipped out on his God sons birthday party. In the past, she'd show up to small gatherings extra early and slip out once everyone started arriving to avoid Ron. Ginny understood and covered for her when it came to Harry and the rest of the Weasleys. She'd make up an excuse that were just shy of convincing.

And never had she been at Grimmauld place with Draco. She didn't even know when Draco had become involved. She knew his aunt Andromeda had assumed responsibility after her daughter and Remus passed. She also knew she had been shunned from the Black family. But, Hermione never concerned herself with how or why Draco formulated a relationship with her close enough to become involved with Teddy.

It would be the first time she'd be there with Draco present. She supposed it was reassuring that he'd be there. She could use him to distract herself and stay grounded.

Ironically enough.

Hermione was at a crossroads and only one path lead to her best friend not becoming cross with her.

"I'll get my things." She surrendered. "But, you better help me write this gag order tonight. I can't function knowing I've left important work undone."

"Slow down," He said. "This old establishment won't collapse because you didn't overachieve one time."

Hermione got defensive. "There's much responsibility on my shoulders. I haveto overachieve."

Draco's head fell back to emphasize his amusement. "As fun as it is, not everything I say is meant to insult you."

She blew a puff of air. "Apologies if after all these years, I still can't tell the difference."

That put a damper on his expression and it didn't leave her with the victorious feeling as it usually would.

His eyes were down, focused intently on his pointed feet before he shuffled them off her desk. He was swift and calculated with his movements as he fixed himself to stand up.

"There's more to this world than wizarding politics." He expressed ruefully. She'd never seen his features flicker with self-loath. "You don't have to come with me. You're the most capable woman I know." Draco met her soft brown eyes. "I only thought we could both suffer in silence together." He attempted to string some humorous levity at the last part.

"Malfoy." Hermione gulped audibly. She felt bad. She couldn't remember the last time he'd treated her with indignity. In fact, aside from their routine interchange of witty and at times annoying repartee, he'd never actually asserted her with disrespect. "If I'm going to suffer with anyone, I suppose you'll do."