"Guys, I need your help with something." Hermione said as she played with her food rather than ate it. She was having lunch with both Harry and Ron today and figured that she'd might as well get their opinions on this while they were all together.

"Sure, what is-? Oi! Will you stop picking at my plate?" Ron scolded Harry. The man shrugged but still plucked at a bit of sausage.

Hermione laughed and joined in the fun of eating off Ron's plate which made him fume even further.

"Go on, keep at it. I won't help if you do."

"Oh fine," Hermione smiled. "It's about Malfoy."

"Figures," Harry grinned.

"Anyway… It looks like his mother wants to have dinner with me."

Both men stopped eating.

Ron gulped. "She does?"

"Seems that way." Hermione shrugged. "I wouldn't be so opposed to it if the dinner wasn't going to be held at Malfoy Manor."

"You can't go there." Harry said immediately. He frowned and reached for her hand. "You've been doing so well. For you to go there of all places-"

"I know. If it weren't for Narcissa's house arrest we'd be having the dinner elsewhere."

"I can't believe that Malfoy would want you to go there after he knows firsthand what happened to you in that place." Ron grimaced.

"He's not forcing me to go." Hermione clarified. "I'm free to take as much time as I'd like to decide this. And if I do say yes, Malfoy's assured me that Blaise and his wife will be there. You know, having people that I'm comfortable with to make things less awkward."

Harry chuckled and then repeated, "Comfortable with. Never thought I'd be hearing you say anything like that about any Slytherin at all."

"Tell me about it. I just… It's hard for me to know whether I'll ever be able to face the Manor again –with or without people to distract me. Whether today, tomorrow, next year-"

"Next year?" Ron interrupted. "You really see you and Malfoy going on through next year?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Will you ever get that tone of surprise out of your voice whenever I discuss specifics of my relationship?"

Ron snorted. "Not bloody likely. But you weren't finished. –Go on."

"Right, well. I guess the opinion that I really need from you guys is how long should I wait until I accept the invitation? If I don't think I'll ever truly be comfortable, then maybe I should just jump right into it?"

"As opposed to taking it little by little?" Harry asked. "Are you sure that's wise? Healer Higgs didn't have you do that when you were seeing her and I'm pretty sure she wouldn't want you to do that now."

"Well how exactly am I supposed to do it little by little? Stare at the Manor from afar off and see what reactions I get?"

Harry looked at Ron who gave him a gentle shrug of his shoulders.

"Doesn't sound like too bad of an idea." Ron offered.

Hermione stared at him wide-eyed. "You're serious?"

"Why not? If you can handle looking at it then that'll give you some idea of what you'll feel."

"Oh sure. I'll just coax the Manor's address from Malfoy and trespass so I can get a look at the view."

"Or," Harry countered. "You could look at some photographs instead."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"The Auror Department has a whole case file on the Malfoys, remember?" He explained. "There are some photographs in there too. I could give you a couple to look over. Would you be open to that?"

Well, it sure beats walking into the Manor blind.

"…Sure. Yes. I think that'll work out. If you can get them to me today I can go over them at home after work. Malfoy's training is going to run late today seeing it's the first day. I won't be disturbed."

So Draco had heard from Hermione who had heard from Harry, only four people (himself included) had signed on for the Dark Arts Auror Division. He had always liked the idea of small classes what with individualized attention and not being distracted by a lot of other people. He was, to say the least, excited. Not just because he was one step closer to becoming an Auror, but because he was endeavoring in something that he knew he just couldn't fail. For once in his life being a Malfoy was good for something. Dinner talk wasn't all lollipops and roses. Not with Lucius Malfoy as his father. He had learned much too much from him growing up –none of it good. And the war? Draco had learned more about magic than he ever thought possible and he'd been studying magic at Hogwarts for seven years for Merlin's sake.

Yes, this was the place for him. That was his thought process as Draco walked into, not a conference room, but rather an office. Auror Juno's methods for training her new Division Aurors were very hands on. There was going to be very little time spent in a classroom so the information grapevine went, and he wondered how soon he would be out in the field. Merlin bless him if it was as soon as tomorrow. Draco was simply itching to get going.

As he entered Auror Juno's office he found her sitting at her desk. She was speaking amicably (or as best she could, if he was being honest) to someone else who was sitting in front of her. She looked up when she saw Draco enter and smiled. The man in front of her desk didn't have to turn around for Draco to know who it was, and he tried his best not to scowl or give any negative reaction at all.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy," Auror Juno greeted. "Lovely to see you. Early just like your counterpart. That's good. Have a seat."

Draco nodded and slowly made his way over to the unoccupied seat next to Travers. He grumbled mercilessly, but Auror Juno ignored him and began speaking in a professional tone.

"Welcome to the Dark Arts Auror Divisional Training gentlemen. There are four of you, total, in this training, but you'll only meet with your fellow trainees once a week, Fridays. Those days will be spent going over what you've done with your partners –what went wrong, what went well, things like that. You-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt." Travers spoke. "But when you say partners…?"

"That confused you?" Auror Juno questioned with the hint of a snort. "Use the definition of the word that you know, Mr. Travers, and that is what I mean. I paired both you and Mr. Malfoy together for this training and, should nothing disastrous strikes, you'll remain as such when you become full-fledged employees.

'And before you ask," she continued before the annoying git could interrupt again. "I've heard of the…animosity between the both of you. However, regardless of whether I'm doing the training or not I always choose the partners, and I'm good at it. I pair people who aren't necessarily compatible, but rather those who each have something that the other person lacks."

"What do we lack?" Draco couldn't help but ask. Auror Juno nodded at him contentedly.

"You, Mr. Malfoy, are calm, calculating, and wonderfully precise and resourceful. Such skills are an asset, but are also a fault. You haven't a single impulsive bone in your body."

"Impulsivity is an asset?"

"Surprising, isn't it?" Auror Juno chuckled. "Perhaps impulsive isn't the right word. Let's go with instinctive, yes? While working with dangerous artifacts can require painstaking patience, sometimes an impetuous personality is necessary when immediate action is needed." She turned to Travers then and added, "That's where you come in, Mr. Travers. You dive in head first to any and every task presented to you in an effort to showcase your skills and to prove yourself. That's good."

Travers sat smugly. "Why thank-"

"However continuing to live your life as such and doing your job as such will likely kill you and kill you quickly."

It was Draco's turn to let a smug smile cross his features. He did little to hide it and relished in Travers' obvious embarrassment.

"I believe the two of you will balance each other out as partners nicely." Auror Juno finished. "You'll spend the first week in the Auror Department's Containment Center. You'll be trained on containment procedures and become very friendly with the containment staff and the artifacts that we currently have. The next week you'll be paired with a specific artifact and the Aurors whose case files they're part of. The rest of your training will be that case. You'll do your utmost to help solve it which will either take up part of your training, all of it, or even run into your official hire. You'll work with whichever Departments necessary –other Auror Divisions, Wizard Law, Magical Research-"

Draco's ears perked up. "Magical Research?"

Auror Juno tried to smother her cheeky grin, but she was failing miserably. "Yes. Our Division works with that Department quite frequently seeing as much of what we see requires knowledge that we ourselves might not have. You'll most likely spend a lot of your time there –but, try not to abuse it, will you?"

Try not to take advantage of the fact that my girlfriend works in the very Department I'll work with "frequently?"

"I'll do my best." Draco replied. Auror Juno merely shook her head, clearly not believing him, but plowed on with their Division training anyway.

Today was their introduction, and aside from this speech, they'd begin with the Containment Center like she said. Working with Travers might be utter hell, but the prospect of seeing Hermione more often was quickly outweighing the negatives.

Harry had done what he'd said he would and had given Hermione the case files on the Malfoys. He told her that they would have to be given back tomorrow morning which meant that she would have to go through them tonight. The prospect of doing it was…daunting, to say the least. Regardless, after she had gotten home from work she mustered up some of that proclaimed Gryffindor courage and sat on her bed with the case files laid out in front of her.

The case files were highly organized –mostly because of her doing. No, she didn't put together these set of files personally (her post-traumatic stress wouldn't have allowed her to do so anyway), but she had put together others like it. There was one folder that was subdivided. It was on the Malfoy family –members who were alive and had been implicated in Voldemort's deeds. Hermione opened that one first and she took a deep breath when Lucius Malfoy's face showed first.

There was no reaction when she saw it, and that was good. She wasn't particularly surprised at her non-reaction either. Yes, he had been there that night, but it wasn't his face that haunted her because he hadn't been in her line of sight. The next photograph was of Draco. She frowned at it. It was a younger photo of him –one of him scowling that made him look mean and…well, evil. That was not the man she was currently in love with and she couldn't very well imagine him as this hateful boy that was staring up at her. She tutted and moved to the next family member and Hermione froze.

Narcissa Malfoy had a face like her sister. Quite frankly Andromeda looked like them both, but the warmth that radiated from her made her different from her House of Black relatives. Narcissa was lacking the unruly mane of black hair and the crazed look in her eyes, but still the woman embodied the features of Bellatrix and Hermione felt her heart race. She immediately closed her eyes and did what Healer Higgs told her to do in times of distress: count.

And so she counted. She took long, deep breaths so as not to hyperventilate and counted in her mind backwards from ten. When she was finished she didn't reopen her eyes. Instead she focused on another activity that her mental Healer had told her to do when she encountered knives and had panic attacks.

Narcissa doesn't have large, black, curly hair. It's straight and blonde.

Narcissa doesn't have yellowing, uncared for teeth. They're straight and white and perfect.

Narcissa doesn't have a shrill laugh.

Narcissa's eyes are not beady and black.

Narcissa was not the one who hurt me.

Focusing on what made a knife different from the one Bellatrix had carved her with had helped rid Hermione of her anxiety. When she opened her eyes she was able to breathe a little better when looking at Narcissa's photograph and she closed the case file.

The next folder was solely on Malfoy Manor. It's history, a detailed record of the owners of the estate. Photographs. Looking at the Manor itself made Hermione think of when she, Harry, and Ron had been brought there. They had already known the danger that they were in, but the way that it had looked…so ominous. It had made things seem ten times worse. It was making things worse now, if she were to be honest. She felt like she was being transported back to that night. Like she was being taken to the Manor to be turned over to Deatheaters and Voldemort.

Hermione closed her eyes.

She counted from ten.

She reopened her eyes and looked around her room to remind herself that she was not at Malfoy Manor and that she wasn't being taken hostage with her friends. With a frown she took one last look at the photograph –still with a fast beating heart, but less crazy. The next few photographs Hermione flipped through them slowly. They were of the grounds. They were of different rooms in the Manor. And of those rooms –those damn rooms was one of the parlor where she'd been tortured.

The file of photographs were pushed away from her so hard that it fell off of the bed and they all went flying. But it didn't matter that she couldn't see the photograph that had now triggered her panic attack. The damage had been done. She could hear Bellatrix's laugh. She could see her hair obscuring her vision and giving her spare glimpses of the parlor room. She could feel –Merlin could she feel the murderous witch on top of her, her hot breath breathing on her, and her knife digging into her. And it hurt. It hurt so badly. She felt tears prickling her eyes as the pain cut deeply into her upper arm and she began to hyperventilate.

"How did you get into my vault?!"

"I don't know!"

"You lie!"

"I'm not! I swear I'm not!"

"You're going to die for what you've done, mudblood."

"No, don't! Please, don't!"

"You're going to die, mudblood."

"Please...no, please!"

"You're going to die, Granger."

"Don't kill me. Please don't-"

"Granger,-"

"Don't… I swear I don't know-"

"Granger?"

"I don't-"

"Hermione? Hermione? Hermione, look at me!"

Hermione's breathing was still erratic and she felt like she hadn't been breathing for...how many minutes. But at least now she could tell that she was in her bedroom, and there was Draco, sitting on his knees on the bed. Draco, who in this moment looked so much like the rest of his family that she started to cry.

Draco recognized a panic attack when he saw one having had a few of his own. He placed his hands on the side of her face and coaxed her down. "Look at me, Hermione. Breathe. Do you hear me? Breathe. Long breaths in, long breaths out. Do it."

It took her a moment, but soon she was mimicking him. She was taking long breaths in when he did it, and long breaths out when he did it. Soon her breathing was normal again, but oddly enough the pain was still there. It wasn't until Draco pried her right hand off of her left arm that she finally figured out where the pain was coming from.

It was her own doing. She had been digging her nails into her arm and it looked awful. It made her cry even more, but Draco didn't say a word. He merely took out his wand and summoned a safety kit that he knew she had in the house. He used a wound cleansing balm on her arm first –on the five little, yet deep places her nails had been. Then he took some bandages and wrapped her arm.

"How painful is it? Scale of one to ten."

"...Seven,"

"Drink some of this Pain Potion."

"I don't want it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Draco conceded and put it away. He sighed and went around the room to manually pick up the photographs that were scattered everywhere. He had thought about using his wand to do it, but he didn't want Hermione to accidentally see them and cause another panic attack. Judging by how these photos were a mess as opposed to what else was on the bed, he could only assume that they were what had started it.

Once they were together and put back in its folder, he moved it and the one on the bed onto her night table.

"Hermione," Draco said gently as he cupped the side of her face. "What are you doing with these?"

"I didn't…" She gulped and gave a small shudder. "I wanted to go to the dinner, but I didn't know how I'd...react being there. I thought looking at your family's case file would help." She glanced down at her arm and suppressed a chuckle. "Obviously I'm not ready."

"I told you that you didn't have to go. Why did you-?"

"I know that I didn't have to, but I wanted to."

Draco frowned. He gently pulled her forward so that he could hug her, but he was careful not to disturb her arm. "When you said that night haunted you, I didn't know it was this bad."

"People are scarred in a lot of ways, Draco." Hermione replied, her face buried in his neck. "Sometimes you just can't see it."

They didn't talk for a while. They just sat there on Hermione's bed and holding onto each other. Draco was content with the silence, but there was one thing was bothering him.

"I didn't know that the Ministry had a case file on me."

"On your family." She corrected. "It was made shortly after the war."

"Will it ever go away? Like...when my mother's house arrest is over?"

"I… I doubt it. It's part of the war records. Most likely it'll never go away."

"Oh. That's… That's disappointing."

Author's note: I just love this chapter. Draco's not the only one who suffers from the past, and I really wanted to show that with Hermione. And Travers is Draco's work partner. Oh how fun lol

Thanks for reading!

-WP

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