Hermione was clutching her head with both hands, trying to massage the headache away. The Daily Prophet's morning edition was sprawled in front of her. The headline on the front page didn't make it any easier for the headache to dissipate.

She and Lucius continued to talk after that impromptu sex on the floor of the drawing-room. Hermione finally agreed to have the said room renovated. Everything will be stripped and replaced except the chandelier that Dobby unscrewed, nearly killing the witch who tortured her. It was only when Winky announced that breakfast was ready that they realized they stayed up through the night.

A knock on the door made her groan out loud.

"I take it you have read the news," she heard Blaise said as he entered her office carrying two cups of steaming coffee, a stack of letters tucked underneath his arm. "You look like shit too."

Hermione took the offered cup and smiled gratefully at her chief-of-staff, "Thanks for the compliment. Who's the other unlucky person?"

"Penelope arrived a few minutes earlier than you looking the worse for wear. I'm afraid I gave her our last stock of Invigoration Draught."

"It's fine," was her only reply as she picked up the first letter, tearing the seal. "It's from Draco. Asking if I could meet with him for lunch."

"I don't see why you couldn't. You have a clear schedule today," he glanced at the papers on her table. "That's some leak there."

Hermione pushed the newspaper for Blaise to see clearly. "I honestly have no idea how that got out. Elphias Doge assured me that he has no other copy of it."

"Do you reckon Skeeter has a spy inside?"

"Maybe. Everyone knows Doge will never talk to Rita Skeeter."

There was a knock again and Penelope, who still looked like she was trampled by a thousand hippogriffs despite the Invigoration Draught potion, stepped inside. "There's a memo from up top. Theo wants to see you in his office."

"I'm surprised it took him this long," Blaise mused.

"He probably spent two hours getting reamed by Shacklebolt," Hermione mused. "Penelope, send an owl to Draco. Tell him I'll meet him in Diagon Alley for lunch. I need to stock up some potions anyway."

Penelope nodded. "I'm sorry I used the last potion."

"Don't be. I heard Kingsley congratulate Percy last night," Hermione pushed herself off the table and grabbed her robe hanging on the back of her chair. "Take the rest of the day off after this. You too, Blaise. We need to get as much rest as we can. This is only the beginning."

"I have one more thing to do before I pack for the day," Blaise said as he followed Penelope and Hermione out of the office. "Say hi to Draco for me."

"I will."

Harry absentmindedly flicked a sickle through his knuckles as he waited for the lift to arrive. He was hoping to catch a word with Hermione today after missing her during the inauguration party last night. Robards and Williamson kept topping up his champagne glass and regaling him with old Ministry tales back during the First Wizarding War and by the time Harry managed to escape them, he spotted Hermione going out back with Blaise Zabini while Lucius Malfoy was busy schmoozing with the other officials.

Harry decided to wait by the bar in fear of being cornered again by his superiors. Nearly half an hour later, Hermione went back in alone but Harry could tell that something was off about her. He was about to go and ask her but was interrupted by Lucius Malfoy asking her to dance with him. Harry never got the opportunity to speak with her and left the party early instead.

The sound of the lift arriving interrupted his thoughts and Harry was about to step inside when the doors to the other lift also opened. Blaise Zabini came out and headed towards the main office of the Auror department, not noticing Harry standing just a few feet away.

Curiosity was such an interesting concept for Harry. The way the mind worked, how it processed. His curiosity got his godfather, Sirius Black, killed. His curiosity landed him in a position where he saw his mentor, Albus Dumbledore, killed in front of his very eyes. Curiosity was also the reason why Harry, now covered in his Invisibility Cloak, secretly followed Blaise Zabini as the latter walked briskly to the deserted corner of this level with Auror trainee Dennis Creevey in tow.

They were standing on a darkened hallway near the storage room and was already in a heated discussion by the time Harry caught up to them. He cautiously edged closer. Blaise may not have Auror training in him but Creevey could spot Harry easily despite being entirely covered by the cloak.

"I don't owe you anymore. I've already done what you asked!" Creevey hissed. "I thought—"

"You thought what?" Blaise interrupted. "That after you've done that little errand, I'll forget those packages you anonymously sent here? I own you, Creevey. Unless you want to get kicked out of Auror training and spend a few years in Azkaban, I suggest you become the obedient little boy that you are."

Creevey looked down resignedly but kept his mouth shut.

Blaise stepped forward, nearly towering the younger wizard. "Remember this moment when you resisted me. When you said the words, 'I don't owe you anymore.'"

"Blaise I'm—"

"Get a good night's sleep, trainee Creevey," Blaise cut him off. "You have a long week ahead of you."

Blaise gave one last piercing look before storming off. Harry was about to go after Blaise but stopped when he heard muffled sniffling behind him. Dennis Creevey was hastily wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his robes. Harry took one step forward, about to reveal himself but immediately stopped.

Curiosity was such an interesting concept. Ten years ago, Harry wouldn't hesitate to confront Creevey with the things he had discovered. But something deep within him held him back. Lucius Malfoy's words—of all people—replayed at the back of Harry's mind. We're playing a different game now.

And so Harry fled to Lucius Malfoy himself.

Curiosity was such an interesting concept for Harry.

"You were supposed to keep Elphias Doge in line!" Theodore Nott bellowed as he paced back and forth behind his desk while Hermione sat demurely across him, picking a speck of imaginary dirt from her nails. "You assured me that you—"

"Twenty-five years he's been pushing this particular agenda," Hermione interrupted him calmly not looking up. "We got between the mother bear and her cub. It's a setback, that's all."

Theo stopped his pacing and narrowed his eyes at her. "On our first day in office."

"Theo, I've worked with a lot of laws since I became the head Auror," Hermione wanted to roll her eyes at him. Technically this was their second first day in office. Theo made it seem like Shacklebolt hadn't messed up a few legislations back during his first term. "Setbacks, as the Americans say, are dime a dozen with a bill of this size."

"Hermione, if you can't control this—"

And there it was. The threat. Hermione finally looked up, meeting his glare with her own equally strong one, if not more so.

"I don't take well to being micromanaged, Theo," she shot back. "You want to do my job for me and run the Ministry? Good luck. I won't stand in your way."

They stared at each other for a moment. Weighing. Calculating. Sizing up one another. Something she noticed they often do recently. This time, Hermione didn't give in.

"Okay, Hermione. Fine. This is yours now," it was Theo who broke the silence. "If this thing can't make it to the floor in the first hundred days, then I'll let you explain to the Minister why he lied to the entire Wizarding community."

It was a challenge. One he expected her to fail. But she's Hermione Malfoy nee Granger. It'll take more than a goddamn bill to make her fail. Forward is the battle-cry.

She stood and smoothed out the wrinkles on her clothes. "Is there anything else, Theo?"

The wizard turned away and faced the window, observing Hermione through the reflection.

"No, that will be all."

"So, what's so important that you had to invite me out to lunch?" Hermione asked in between bites of her smoked salmon.

"Can't I just say that I missed your company?" Draco whined as he poked his untouched osso buco.

Hermione dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin before fixing him with a look that says 'bullshit'. "You could've come to the Manor or visited me at work but instead you dragged me out here in a Muggle restaurant you haven't been to and outside of your father's earshot. Plus, you haven't touched your food."

"Okay, fine. You're worse than father, you know that?" Draco ran a hand across his face as he sighed. He stared at his food a moment before speaking. "Astoria's pregnant. Two weeks."

"Oh. Congratulations, Draco," But Hermione knew that something was wrong by the somber look on Draco's face. "Aren't you supposed to be happy? I know you two have been trying to have a baby."

He took a large swig of his wine instead, wishing he was drinking something stronger. "What do you know about blood malediction?"

"Not much," Hermione pursed her lips in thought. "I know it's a curse that is passed down to generations. Cures are quite rare though. Why do you ask?"

"One of Astoria's ancestors was cursed. But her father believed that the curse was now broken since it never appeared for generations," he looked away then. "Not until now."

"Astoria," Hermione whispered horrified.

"The curse slowly saps all of her life force and it manifested when she became pregnant. We have the choice to terminate the pregnancy and possibly save her or continue and risk losing her and the unborn child," he explained. "I told her that it's okay, that I don't care if the Malfoy line ended with me but Astoria is adamant in continuing the pregnancy and I know father will only encourage her. That's why I didn't want him to know yet."

She reached out and squeezed Draco's hand. "I'm so sorry Draco."

"I'm not giving up hope yet," he smiled sadly and squeezed her hand in return. "I won't stop looking for a cure whatever it takes."

Having children was a luxury Hermione didn't have. Not because she didn't want to or never had the time. It's something that was taken away from her at such a young age. But if she was in Astoria's shoes, there was no doubt that Hermione would take the risk.

"When are you going to tell father about it?" Draco asked, sensing where her thoughts had gone off.

"He doesn't need to know," she said defensively. "We agreed that there'll be no children in this marriage."

"That's because you two are so focused on whatever world domination you're trying to achieve. When he finds out about Astoria, it's only a matter of time before father brings up the topic of children again. He's still in his prime, you know?"

Hermione looked up Draco in the eye, gauging how much she could trust him with her thoughts and fears. Considering he confided in her about Astoria, Hermione thought it's only fair she tells him.

"I'm afraid," she began. "Afraid that he'll leave me when he finds out that I can't have children."

"Oh," Draco blinked. He was surprised by the vulnerability in her tone. "Hermione, I don't think he will just up and leave you because of that. Hell, he agreed to a blood binding ceremony for your marriage. If that doesn't scream devotion then I don't know what will. He loves you. I promise you he won't leave. And if he did, he'll also lose a son in the process."

Hermione was surprised by the intensity in his eyes. She didn't know Draco felt that way about his relationship with Lucius. "I will tell him but not now. Not when we are thick in the middle of something. Just promise me, Draco. Swear that you won't tell him."

"I won't tell me him unless you ask me to. You have my word, Hermione," then Draco chuckled, it was strained considering the gravity of their previous discussion. "It's funny because this was not really the reason why I invited you out to lunch."

"What do you mean?"

"I received an owl this morning from Rita Skeeter, asking if she could interview me about you and father. I don't know what father said but Skeeter seemed to think I was the reason why you two got together. Like I'm some pimp!"

"Well, you had a hand in it," Hermione smiled, the atmosphere seemed to lighten up a bit. "You already know what story to tell her."

"I do, but I'm curious though. When did your plans change? I know you only wanted to make father indebted to you so he would help you in return, but something changed."

Hermione retreated to the back of her mind, trying to find the said 'moment' Draco was referring to in her memories.

"I think it was the day Lucius was pardoned," she answered. "We started seeing a lot of each other after that night I found him half-dead in a Muggle alley."

"The day he went missing?" Draco said incredulously, his voice pitched a little higher. Some of the patrons glanced in their way, annoyed at having their lunch disturbed. "I should've known it was you who found him not—"

Draco sucked in a breath as if he was burned. And then silence. It's funny how the atmosphere could change with just an unspoken word, Hermione thought. Draco tried to look away but she pinned him with her stare.

"You should talk to Harry, Draco," Hermione urged. "It's been years."

"What's the point, Hermione? We can't go back to the way things were after the war. I'm with Astoria now and he's with Ginny. Let's face it. We're always meant to hate each other."

She wanted to tell him that, no, Harry didn't hate him and, no, Harry and Ginny aren't really together but like Draco said, what's the point, anyway? Hermione sighed and picked up her knife and fork.

"Let's just finish our meal. I need to drop by an apothecary shop and replenish my stock of Invigoration Draught for my office."

Draco nodded and proceeded to eat his cooled osso buco, not bothering to cast a warming spell over it.

Harry remembered the first time he set foot inside the Manor after the war was over. His first task as an Auror was to check up on Lucius Malfoy weekly as part of his probation. Kingsley Shacklebolt ordered it but Harry suspected that Hermione was behind it even though she was still in Hogwarts finishing her NEWTS. Like how she was behind Malfoy's court verdict and his early pardon later on.

And now here Harry stood again after many years but under different circumstances.

"Master is in the drawing-room," the elf informed him.

The drawing-room. The room where Hermione was tortured. The room where Dobby was killed. What in Merlin's name was he doing in there?

"I'd say it's a pleasant surprise but I was actually about to send an owl to you," Lucius Malfoy greeted Harry as the latter stepped inside.

If it weren't for the chandelier that Dobby unscrewed years ago, Harry would have thought that he's not in the same room. The entire room was stripped away, from the paint on the walls to the tiles on the floor. Most of the corner moldings were chiseled out as well as some of the other intricate carvings on the walls. The tall windows were replaced by smaller ones high above that only permitted minimal light to filter through.

"Are you… redecorating?"

"Ah, yes," Malfoy's eyes lit up. "Hermione finally agreed. I was thinking of turning it into an extension of our library and a potions laboratory. I've already converted the dungeons into a stock room."

Harry's attention was shifted to the stairs at the far end that led to the dungeons where he, Ron, Luna, Mr. Ollivander, and Griphook were imprisoned.

"Wait. Do you mean to tell me that Hermione forbade you from renovating this room? The very same room she was tortured in?"

Malfoy ignored the statement and walked over to Harry instead. In his hand was a stack of photographs. Unmoving, Harry noticed. "Tell me, Potter. Do you know any Muggleborns in the Auror department that has an affinity for photography?"

Harry took the photos and almost instantly dropped them when he realized what they were. "What the fuck, Malfoy? What is this?"

"Language, Potter," Malfoy strode to the other side of the room where a small table stood with a decanter of what Harry assumed was firewhiskey. "Mr. Zabini had someone follow Cormac McLaggen days ago. He didn't tell Hermione who it was he 'hired' but I assumed it was an Auror, judging by how it managed to successfully trail McLaggen without being noticed. Plus, the photograph was unmoving. Obviously, a Muggle camera was used."

"Jesus fucking Christ, did McLaggen do this?" Harry dropped the photographs on the floor and ran a hand through his messy mop of dark hair. Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry's use of expletives but also confirmed his question. "Fuck!"

And then it clicked to Harry. Like pieces of a large puzzle snapping into place. Hermione and Blaise talking in the back alley last night. Hermione coming back to the party looking off. Blaise threatening Creevey this morning. Dennis Creevey, younger brother of deceased Colin Creevey. Colin Creevey and his Muggle camera. Shit.

"Creevey what have you done?" Harry muttered to himself. He looked up to see Malfoy staring at him expectantly. "It wasn't an Auror. Well, not yet anyway."

"A trainee?"

Harry nodded. "Dennis Creevey. His older brother was Colin Creevey. Colin was a year younger than me and he used to carry that Muggle camera with the large flash with him anywhere he went. He died during the battle at Hogwarts."

"Why do you think it was him? It could be anyone," Malfoy slowly paced in front of Harry. The younger wizard could feel the gears inside Malfoy's head turning, plotting.

"Can I get a drink first? And for Merlin's sake, stop pacing. You're making my head spin," Harry lifted his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. Malfoy merely raised an eyebrow at him before heading back to his decanter of firewhiskey.

"Here," Malfoy handed out the glass. "Now explain."

"Okay, okay, sheesh. You're as impatient as Hermione when it comes to information, you know that?" but Malfoy only smirked at him. Bastard. Harry downed the glass in one gulp. "There had been incidents in the past weeks. Someone had been sending packages containing some explosive spells. It wasn't that fatal and no one was gravely injured but it caused a lot of property damage in the Ministry."

"Then this morning, I spied Blaise and Creevey arguing. I overheard Blaise threatening to turn Creevey over to the authorities about the packages if Creevey refused to do what Blaise says."

"Hmm, interesting," Malfoy mused as he took a sip of his firewhiskey, a faraway look in his eyes.

"Interesting? Your wife's chief-of-staff is blackmailing a fellow government employee and that's all you have to say? I can't believe this! It was a mistake coming here."

Harry shoved the glass he was holding in Malfoy's hands and proceeded to exit the room but before he could reach the door, it suddenly slammed shut on him.

"You and I both know that I would never deliberately do anything that would put Hermione in danger, nor would I let anything sully her public image," Malfoy's voice echoed across the room. "There's a reason why Hermione is in the dark about this. Think about it, Potter. The two of us aren't the only ones who are willing to sacrifice themselves for her."

This fact didn't surprise Harry. "But if this gets out of hand, whatever Blaise was planning backfired on him, Hermione would still be involved. Her name will get dragged through the mud."

"Then we'll do everything in our power to prevent it from happening. But for now, I want you to stay put and keep an eye on them."

"That's not really helpful," Harry rolled his eyes at Malfoy.

"You know, Draco told me the sorting hat wanted to place you in Slytherin," Harry tensed up at the mention of Malfoy's son. "You were right in asking it to place you in a different house. You would've been eaten alive in Salazar's house."

Harry scoffed at that. "As if I care about your goddamn house," he turned around and headed for the door. "I'm leaving. I'll owl you if anything comes up."

Malfoy's voice stopped him at the threshold.

"Potter," Harry turned around to see Malfoy looking at him oddly. "I know my opinion won't matter to you, but I want you to know that I appreciate your devotion to Hermione."

"Of course. She's family."

"I know," Malfoy turned away and stared at a spot in the room. You should stop calling him Potter. He's part of the family now. He shook the memory away. "My son was a fool for pushing you away. He doesn't deserve you."

Tears pooled beneath Harry's eyes at the words and he was grateful that Malfoy was facing away. Harry quietly slipped out of the room, wiping the tears away as he disapparated into the night.