"Your mother is certainly on top of things, isn't she?" Hermione asked. Draco wasn't sure what she was talking about, but as he took the letter she was handing him he finally understood why.

Dear Miss Granger,

You are cordially invited to Malfoy Manor

on the 31st of August

at 7:00pm

to celebrate the official acceptance

of Draco Malfoy's entry into the Ministry of Magic's

Auror Department

Cordially Yours,

Narcissa Malfoy

"How fancy of an affair is she planning?"

"Not how the invitation looks, I promise you." Draco said as he gave it back to her. "Fifty people, tops."

Hermione's eyes bulged. "Fifty? That's not extravagant to you?"

Draco chuckled and shook his head. "Our annual Christmas dinner is one hundred fifty at minimum."

"One hundred fifty…? Malfoy, that's ridiculous."

"Perhaps to you, but you're forgetting something. It means very little to me now, but the Malfoys are a pureblood family. We've spent a lot of time across decades making acquaintances, friends, allies, you name it. For events like that they all get invited."

"I see." Hermione mused as she turned over the invitation in her hand. "And so for this? Who would be there?"

Draco stared at her with a gentle tilt of his head. "Are you actually going to go?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip and shrugged, but she didn't actually answer. "The guest list?"

"...Well, my mother, obviously. Blaise and Liliana, most definitely. I imagine Pansy and a few other friends. That would make up I'd say about ten people of the guest list. Add another ten for close family members and the rest family friends of my mother's."

Draco watched his girlfriend closely as he rattled off the potential guest list. Her face had been calm and happy at the mention of Blaise and his wife, a little less so when he had named Pansy, and he guessed that her imagination was running wild at the thought of his family and the others.

He took a deep breath and reached across the kitchen table for her hand. "You don't have to go."

"I know I don't." Hermione replied. "But the party is for you. I… I want to go. Besides, with all of the people there I should be okay. Even better than okay if I don't see that room or anything that looks like it. Can… Can that be done?"

"Absolutely," Draco nodded. "If this is what you want, then yes, I'll take care of it."

"Okay. Good. And in turn, you let me know what I can do for you about this."

The "this" Hermione was referring to was an envelope only marginally less fancy than the one she had gotten from his mother. What puzzled him was the fact that his name was on it. Without questioning it first, Draco took it and read its contents. Hermione watched him, knowing full-well what it was about, and analyzed his facial features as he read the whole thing through.

"You've got to be kidding." Draco said as he looked up at her. "Miss Ginger's finally lost her marbles."

Hermione laughed, taking the Potter-Weasley wedding invitation from his hands. "Have I ever told you that I find the nicknames you give Ginny absolutely adorable?"

Draco's nose wrinkled. "Adorable… Not exactly what I was going for, but nevertheless, she's the least annoying out of that sea of red, hence the better nicknames sans sneer."

"I'll take that to mean you like her –and no, I won't tell her that you do."

"Thank you."

Hermione smiled and she returned the invitation to him. "You don't have to go to the wedding, you know. This isn't a quid pro quo thing since I'm going to your party."

"But since you are going, I'll look like an utter arse not to accept the invitation. Especially under the circumstances that you've accepted yours." Draco mused as he read over the contents of the invitation one more time. In the process Hermione had reached over and taken one of his hands in hers.

"No one there is going to bite." Hermione said. "I promise. And certainly not with my threat to hex every last one of them if they say anything negative to you."

Draco chuckled. "I think I can defend myself against a couple of Weasleys and their friends if I have to. So long as it doesn't cause a scene. That's the last either you or I need."

"Yes, well, there's only one Weasley who would be fool enough to start a fight with you and he's been on a pretty tight leash as of late."

Draco smirked. "Ah yes, dating the Brown girl, if I recall correctly? Sounds more like a set of shackles to me."

"Draco," Hermione scolded with a huge grin. "That's not a nice thing to say. Besides, she's not nearly as horrible as she was in school."

"Spend that much time with her to know that, do you?"

"No, but it's a dearest hope."

Draco laughed. "And you tell me I'm not nice." He took a moment to summon a Self-Inking Quill and scribbled his reply on the spare bit of parchment that had been included with the wedding invitation. He then passed the quill to Hermione who did the same thing with hers.

"February, huh?" Draco said as he folded his reply. "Never figured them for winter wedding people."

"It's more a memory for them." Hermione said. "Harry first said that he loved Ginny around Valentine's Day."

"Oh, well that's nice. Is…is that what you would want?"

Hermione, who had writing Narcissa's name on the back of the return envelope sent with her invitation, had drawn out the end of the final "A" rather long and across the entire envelope. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"I, well…" She swallowed and shrugged. "Yes, I think that would be lovely. It would mean something even more then. Would…would you?"

"I'd do whatever you-" Draco paused abruptly before finishing in a mumble, "Whatever you wanted."

The kitchen was deathly quiet. After a couple of seconds Draco was bustling about the kitchen washing dishes while Hermione was clearing away her excess ink and gathering up both her and Draco's invitations so that she could owl them off. Their topic of discussion was promptly left hanging in the air.

"How are things with Travers?"

"He's serious about his job, which is great."

"But?" Uriel pressed. He and Draco were using the rare opportunity of a synced schedule to have lunch. The man was good people, so Draco thought, and he was happy that something more than just a new career had come out of Auror Training.

"When he opens his mouth I want to kill him." Draco grumbled. Uriel laughed and shook his head as he piled some food onto his fork.

"I'm surprised you haven't done it already. But good for you. If you're going to lose your job over something, best not let it be for a sod like Travers."

"Very true. I love being an Auror. Not to mention the perks."

Uriel smiled. "Tease me, why don't you? MPs and Espionage rarely ever work together."

"Now that you mention it, how's Lydia's training going?"

"Boring, so she says. A lot of it is tactic training and how not to get caught. To tell you the truth though," Uriel frowned. "I'm a bit frightened for her. Assignments can vary and who knows what kind of persona she'll have to adopt or what she'll have to do or for how long she'll have to do it."

"Hey, don't be worried. Take it from another member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," Draco encouraged. "She'll be able to handle herself just fine."

"I suppose. How's Hermione handling you being in DA? You guys have to deal with some pretty dangerous stuff."

"So far so good. I think it helps that I turn to her for everything Travers and I don't understand. She is one of the Magical Researchers on my case after all."

"How convenient." Uriel chuckled. "Or blatant favoritism,"

Now it was Draco's turn to laugh. Favoritism? Shown towards him? In the Ministry of Magic of all places? Although, it was pretty clear that Auror Juno did like him. She liked him better than Travers anyway.

"Did you get my mother's invitation?" Draco asked.

"Finally got it last night. Sorry it took nearly a week for the owl to get to us. Lydia's got so many wards around our place it's a miracle the Daily Prophet can get delivered."

"What? No wards of your own?"

"What need?" Uriel shrugged. "As you said, Lydia's part of the big twenty-eight. She's been taught so many protection spells she could teach a class. You too, I imagine."

Draco nodded. There'd be no breaking into his house –that was for certain. Or Hermione's apartment after he had put his wand to it. It seemed to be a common skill among the oldest sets of wizarding families (Sacred Twenty-Eight nor not). They lived for protecting their own. For making sure that their families stayed strong so that they could last through generations. It was the reason that many of them sought pureblood marriages as though that had a hand in strength –magical or otherwise.

And then he thought of Hermione and his minor slip in her kitchen a week back. He hadn't even thought through his words before saying them. It just…came out. What made it funny was that it had come out so naturally as though there was nothing to it. But there was, wasn't it?

"Uriel, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

Draco played with the food on his plate and said hesitantly, "Did you feel…odd or nervous about getting involved with a pureblood? Even more so considering Lydia's a Rosier?"

Uriel was clearly caught off-guard by the question. Draco felt a tad bit of shame for asking, but his friend didn't shy away from it. "A bit. I mean, when you hear the name 'Rosier' you kind of get this foreboding feeling." He chuckled. "I'm a half-blood, so I wasn't too scared. Besides, a woman who moves her family away from the rest of the crazy You-Know-Who-loving ones couldn't have been all bad –no offence."

"None taken," Draco smiled. "I guess that made marrying Lydia easier then, yes?"

Uriel's mouth dropped. "Are you…? Are you thinking about asking Hermione to marry you?"

Draco felt himself blush terribly and he hated to blush. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say it."

"It's not what you think. Hermione's friends are getting married soon so the topic kind of just popped up. It just got me thinking about what she might feel if, you know, I did ask her."

"Easy. She'll be thrilled and she'll say yes."

Draco snorted. "That's what I want her to say –would want." He corrected, another hideous blush overtaking his features. Uriel smiled broadly.

"It's what she will –oh, sorry, it's what she would say if you did ask her. Why? Because from what I've heard, if anyone's willing to go through the scrutiny that you two have been through, then there's something about you that she loves. Only a fool gives up what they love, and Hermione Granger's no fool."

Travers groaned as he wiped his hands over his face. "This case is going to be the death of me."

For once, Draco couldn't disagree with him. There was one week left of training and it was already decided that this case would take much longer than the month of August. The tea kettle had been dismantled (physically and magically), and thanks to Hermione the Anicent Runes text had been deciphered to an English version of the Targeting Spell. However, the victim had never woken up from her comatose state and, unfortunately, had died earlier today. The Investigative Division was at a standstill and, without any artefacts to take apart, the Dark Arts Division was at a standstill as well.

"Me too," Draco yawned. "But until there's another break or a new deathtrap to pick apart we'll be getting another case."

"That must hurt you something sore." Travers chuckled. "The highlight of this case for you was getting to see your girlfriend every five to ten minutes."

Draco scowled. "You know, I'm pretty sure there's a way that we can talk without you bringing Hermione into the conversation when she doesn't need to be."

"Well, excuse me." He smirked. "It seems that I've touched a nerve."

"Hell yes, you've touched a nerve. What is your problem?" Draco stood. He had been sitting at a work desk across from Travers, but there was no way that he could just stay rooted when their talk had turned in such a direction. "Just when I think you're one-eighth less of an arse, you're twice that. You've got something to say? Say it. Right here, right now."

"Alright, fine." Travers said, standing just the same. "You and your spoiled rich arse get everything you want when you don't deserve it. You were a Deatheater, but did you go to Azkaban? No. You brought Deatheaters into Hogwarts, and the Headmistress still let you return. You fought opposite Harry Potter during the war and now his best friend is your girlfriend. That baffles my mind, how she can look past everything you were and be with you. And now you're here, an Auror, after fighting for its destruction. That is my problem with you."

"Oh, you have a problem alright." Draco sneered at him. "You and everyone else who fails to see the difference between the present and my past. The only thing you need to concern yourself with is the fact that I'm not out casting Avada's left and right. So, until I start doing that, how about you worry about something that actually matters? Something that doesn't have anything to do with me or my love life."

Travers opened his mouth to say something, but he snapped it shut when Draco took two quick strides so that he was directly in front of his face.

"And for the record," Draco continued in a low tone with his sneer still in place. "I can easily become the man you think I still am. If it has nothing to do with work, do not bring Hermione up again."

Author's note: Hmm, Draco's thinking about something! Warms my soul… Also, Travers better watch out! Don't mess with his witch ;)

Also, this story hit 500+ follows yesterday. THANK YOU! I had no idea what would've become of this little one-shot, but I'm so happy that I wrote more!

-WP