Before this chapter, a few points of the plots need clarification and mostly, it was my brain's fault of losing track of time and plot.

1. Yes. Almost 2 years in less than 10 chapters. Everything seemed to happen one after one without passage of time, well what could one say? One never realizes time flies when one indulges in happiness.

2. Why would Phelps ask Hermione out? Perhaps we should let Hermione explain for herself.

3. If you think that the case is just as simple as that, you have underestimated everything. Hints are dropped in the previous chapters, waiting, mixed with quartz grains, rose and amethyst.

The crown's hiding place is set and let us see how long does it take for them to find it/for me to write it.

CONTENT ALERT! IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE OR EXCESSIVELY PRISSY TOWARDS SUCH CONTENT...

I can't help you.


HG'S POV

It was already more than unpleasant to pay a visit to St. Mungos', the worst was the three women in the room.

"Luna?" exclaimed Hermione. "Ginny?"

"Mrs. Malfoy, if you don't mind, please take your seat and we will start the session," said the Healer.

Hermione sat down and began,

"Well, what are we here for?"

"Not 'we'," said Ginny. "You."

"I don't quite understand what you mean."

"How many months has it been since that day you sign the papers?"

Hermione opened her mouth, trying to answer. Then she realized why her appearance was requested.

"I still have four months," she said. "The law only says 'two years', not twenty months."

"Are you telling us that you would like to loose your job?" snapped the Healer.

"It is not that hard, is it?" said Luna with her airy tone. "Imagine sleeping beside Malfoy, how blissful can it be!"

"It isn't as easy as you think," explained Hermione. "He's not giving in! And what can I do?"

"And did you try?" asked Ginny, staring into her eyes.

"Well, I-"

"You didn't."

Hermione tried to argue.

"You are just saying this because your husband is Harry," she said. "Malfoy has been loathing me since the first day at Hogwarts, and now you are telling to me love him!"

"Just pretend he is not Draco Malfoy!" exclaimed Ginny, starting to get both excited and annoyed. "Just think of him as a date! Don't you have anyone in mind? Just any man that you like!"

"Well, Dumbledore is going to come out from the portrait if he knows that."

Luna burst into laughter.

"Dumbledore! Haha, not bad!"

"If you think Dumbledore as a date, it's perfectly fine."

"Well, I have heard young Dumbledore is very handsome, Daddy says he is just next to Gellert Grindelwald. We have the Mr. Handsome rank in one volume of Quibbler."

"That doesn't help, Luna," said Hermione and sighed.

"Do you need a subscription of Love Potion?" asked the Healer, slightly annoyed. "It would definitely cease your doubts."

Hermione licked her lips and said,

"No, thank you."

"Well then hurry up," said the Healer, her quilt quickly ran across the paper. "Remember, you don't have much time."

Hermione and her friends stood up and left the room.

"Harry's waiting in his office," said Ginny, hardly hiding her grin. "We're going to have a lavish meal at Diagon Alley."

"See you later!" said Hermione.

The moment when Ginny disappeared from sight, Luna said,

"Actually I don't quite agree with her."

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione, looking at Luna, who appeared to be indulging herself in meditation.

"Daddy says when you get married to a man, accept for who he is and abandon the past."

"Past is what builds Rome today," argued Hermione.

"But one never moves on if one keeps thinking about the past," explained Luna. "Just like old times, Hermione. If we keep on thinking about those dark days, we can never embrace the future. If we never forgive dark witches and wizards, we would still be holding grudge against them."

Hermione thought for a while, she had forgiven Malfoy being a Death Eater, in fact she never cared much whether he was a Death Eater or not. Staying beside him never made her feel uncomfortable, she just knew that he would not hex her or play dirty pranks on her, despite of the fact that he had hit her with Densaugeo hex. That was an accident, she told herself, he was not really targetting her.

Just as she went back to the Auror Office, the letter on the desk reminded her that Phelps had actually asked her out. At first, she was shocked to see him asking her to spend the evening with her at Diagon Alley when she had been disguising herself as a Muggle. Nikoloz and Tania could have informed him about this, it just made things easier, she could lure him into exposing details and secrets without having to worry much about her identity. All she needed to do was to come up with another occupation and she decided that it would be best to impose as a staff of Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, she had heard Ron talking about Mr. Weasley's job. It would be easy for her to spin tales with those stories told by Ron.


Time passed quicker than Hermione imagined, Sunday finally arrived and Hermione's mind had been thinking of Phelps for the whole morning. To be honest with herself, she was excited. Not just because she could get to meet Phelps, it was also a date, though it was a date with a suspect. She and Malfoy never had dates, and every time when they walked together, quarrels were bound to happen.

She scanned her closet for a dozen times, one thing she regretted most was the inadequate clothes for different occasions. She had two casual emergency suits of clothes, two suits for work and two dresses which were too formal for any dates. She could not instantly buy one now, time would be horribly limited and she hated to be late.

Push and Pull were in the living room, polishing furniture. The moment when they see Hermione in pink fleece jacket and blue jeans, satchel strapped on the shoulder and hair tied in a ponytail, they immediately bowed and asked,

"Is Madame going out?"

"Yes," she replied. "Oh, I am dining out tonight so just make Mal-I mean Draco's portion."

Push and Pull's large round eyes watered.

"Madame is dining out tonight?"

"Yes. I need to meet an important person."

"Madame is not dining with Master?"

Oh no, Hermione thought, knowing that something bad was going to happen.

Push and Pull began banging their heads on each other's. The bangs echoed through the manor, making Hermione helpless.

"No! Please stop!"

"Bad Push! Bad Pull!"

"What's going on here?" asked Malfoy's voice.

He slowly walked down the stairs in his usual tight black suit. Push and Pull hurriedly went to him and fell on their knees, wailing,

"Madame is dining out tonight!"

Malfoy's face darkened, then he asked,

"Phelps, is it?"

"That's really none of your business!" answered Hermione.

"My business is to keep watch on my wife."

"So?"

"It is my business if you are going out on a date with him."

"Correction, the law doesn't say I can't go on a date, it just asks me to get married to you, which is a feat that we have already accomplished."

"Can you two quit banging your head and shut up?" roared Malfoy.

At instant, the two house elves stopped banging their heads against the floor.

"But he is Phelps! Are you sure you want to go on a date with Office's primary suspect?"

"You can treat this as a mission, to get him into telling truth," argued Hermione. "And this is really not your business, the law doesn't mention that you have to be with your wife in the same area for the whole day. Goodbye!"

"Wait-"

Hermione had waved the wand and apparated to Diagon Alley before Malfoy could grab her hand. But the moment when she caught the glimpse of Diagon Alley, she got knocked down by a large figure. Just before her back fell onto the stony ground, an arm supported her waist and she got back up.

"Never expect you to pop up here," said Phelps, chuckling. "Miss Watson."

"Sorry," said Hermione, embarrassingly smiling.

"It's alright, lucky I got you," said Phelps and he withdrew his arm.

"When was your last time coming here?" asked Hermione as they walked towards Leaky Cauldron.

"Last time was more than ten years ago, I was here holding the Seventh Year's letter," explained Phelps. "You?"

"More two years ago," answered Hermione, recalling her memories. "I was on day offs and I got myself a box of books at Flourish and Blotts, I plan to get myself another box next week."

"Why not visiting the bookstore before having our meal?" suggested Phelps as they stopped in front of the entrance of pub. Then he added, "That is, if you are not hungry."

Hermione thought for a while, after dinner it would be too late to visit the bookstore, she would not have enough time to interrogate him.

"Let's go!" said Hermione, beaming at him.

They turned around and headed to the bookshop. The bookshop was quiet and it was a great opportunity to have a decent conversation with Phelps.

"So how're-"

"They are great," said Phelps, instantly knowing what she wanted to ask. "His Majesty has been searching and from the information we receive, the crown should be hidden in Eastern Europe."

"So that narrows down the research," said Hermione. "Though Eastern Europe is still large."

"Let's just hope we will receive more information as soon as possible."

Hermione nodded.

"If possible, let me and Ma-, and Tom help you out," said Hermione.

Phelp's eyes glistened and gasped,

"That's great! More people, more assistance."

Hermione picked a book from the shelf and started reading, then she asked,

"Are King Nikoloz and Queen Tania always like this?"

"Like what?"

"So indifferent," she explained. "As if they do not like each other as much as people think."

"It's a long story," said Phelps and he let out a long slow sigh. "And being their assistant, I-"

"I understand," said Hermione quickly. "Secrets that must be kept, especially when you are working for the royal family."

"So what's your occupation?" asked Phelps. "I guess you don't have to lie to me anymore."

Hermione gazed at his clear blue eyes. They were alluring, and she felt her conscience slowly drifting away as she continued staring.

"Miss Watson?"

His voice snapped her back to reality and she said,

"I...work in Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."

"So how does King Nikoloz know you?" he asked, appeared baffled. "Has he been to your Office?"

"He contacted our Office years ago for a bewitched necklace being sold accidentally," said Hermione, trying her best to come up with a reasonable tale. "I was in charge at that time."

Phelps smiled, it was the most dazzling smile she had ever seen, it was a smile that could melt an ice cube and a smile that could warm a cold heart. Unlike Malfoy, Phelps was forever polite and friendly, he never interrupts her speech and conversations were always pleasant. If only he worked in the Ministry too...

"Have you read this books before?"

His voice snapped her back to reality again, and she examined the book in his hands.

"To Kill an Augurey..." muttered Hermione. "Sounds familiar, but no, I haven't read that before."

"Perhaps you should add this in your book list," suggested Phelps and he conjured a carton box. Gently, he placed the book inside and asked,

"Have you read the book 'Catch me if you Can'?"

"I have, it's good," answered Hermione as she stuffed a few more books into the box. "Abagnale is such an evil genius, It's hard to believe that it happens in real life. Imagine starting imposition at the age of 16."

"Perhaps not as great as that," said Phelps, laughing. "But it'd be exciting."

It was an enjoyable chat and Hermione almost did not notice that the box was crammed and could not accommodate more books.

"Well, I guess that's it!" said Hermione, satisfied.

After she paid the cashier sixteen Galleons, they headed out to the Leaky Cauldron, with her box levitating in the air.

"Thought I could be a genuine gentleman for tonight," said Phelps. "I can really use my muscles to help you."

Hermione tittered.

"It's alright, you are still a gentleman," she said.

As they entered Leaky Cauldron, they settled down at the corner of the inn and Hermione scanned through the menu.

"Toad in the hole sounds nice," said Phelps. "The menu has really changed a lot."

"And I will just have soup and salad," said Hermione.

A waiter came and wrote down their orders, then said,

"Three Galleons and thirteen Sickles."

"I thought you pay after dining?" asked Hermione, confused.

"Not anymore," replied the waiter. "That's the rule now, ask the Longbottoms if you want to know why."

"Oh, how can I forget!" exclaimed Hermione. "Are they here now?"

"Out for some adventures, I guess," answered the waiter. "They always go back to Hogwarts' kitchen to get more recipes."

The waiter hurried away and Phelps asked,

"So which house were you in?"

"Gryffindor," she said. "Though the Sorting Hat has considered placing me in Ravenclaw."

"I'm a Ravenclaw," said Phelps, grinning. "I won't be a surprise if Ravenclaw was your consideration."

The waiter came back with three large bowls.

"Pea soup again," said Phelps as he stared into the green swirling liquid. "Looks like it's still the same all these years."

By the time the clock stuck ten, they had finished dining and chatted for a very long time.

"I have to go," said Hermione, looking at her box. "At least I need time to place those books on my shelves."

They got up and Phelps said,

"It's a pity that we aren't in Georgia, I could take you to the Enguri River and enjoy the fresh air there."

"Perhaps next time!"

As she looked back at Phelps, his eyes were just as clear as the water under moonlight, shimmering and dazzling, captivating her mind. She knew she should not stare at a man's eyes for that long, but it was just irresistible.

"Indeed," said Phelps, smiling. "We will have that day."

Cold breeze glided pass, bringing back her sense. She took a deep breath and apparated after bidding farewell to Phelps.

She was back in the manor, the place was ominously quiet, sending her a chill down the spine. Faint whimpers echoed and it made Hermione even nervous. Had Malfoy been mistreating the house elves because of his anger?

Slowly, she put down her box and hurried to the kitchen, only finding the two house elves sobbing, with their hand bandaged.

"What happened?" she yelled, shocked at the sight of the two shivering house elves.

Push and Pull turned around, their eyes were watered and their pillowcases were soaked.

"Master is upset," said Push. "Push and Pull had to punish it-selves. Push and Pull had to iron the hands."

"But it isn't your fault," said Hermione and she knelt down. "You don't have to punish yourselves."

"Master is upset, and Push and Pull should be punished for that!"

Seeing that the house elves were not convinced to stop self-punishment, she quickly switched the topic.

"Where's he?"

"Upstairs in his room, Madame," answered Pull. "Bad Push! Bad Pull!"

"It's fine, just heal yourselves."

"Will Madame be able to make Master happy again?"

"Well, he'll be fine tomorrow," said Hermione and then whispered, "I guess."

Push and Pull rubbed their noses with their pillowcases and said,

"Push and Pull had to clean up the mess."

Hermione got up her feet and went upstairs. She could feel the eerie atmosphere getting stronger as she headed to Malfoy's room.

She knocked on the door, but nobody answered, so she entered, the room was dark and hollow, no signs of Malfoy could be seen.

"Malfoy!" she yelled.

Nobody answered, as though Malfoy was not in the room. She searched around, even checking the closet, clearly Malfoy was not here.

Perhaps he went to her room, she thought.

Her room was just as still as Malfoy's room. She put down her satchel and looked around.

Perhaps he just went out the garden, she thought.

So she grabbed her nightgown and took a bath. Bath could always clear her mind and help her reorganize her thoughts. Warm water could always help her relax and the scent of cape jasmine could always ensure her high quality sleep.

As she noticed her fingertips were badly wrinkled, she got out of the tub and wore her gown. She got out of the bathroom and went to the window, looking at the navy blue sky. The moment when she turned around, a dark figure shadowed her. She gasped and soon she recognized the figure.

"Malfoy?"

"Enjoyed yourself tonight?" he asked. His voice was sloppy and a strong scent of wine shrouded her. He was only wearing his boxers, as if he had just finished bathing.

"You alright?" asked Hermione, shuddering.

"Do you think I'm alright?"

After an awkward moment of silence, suddenly he lifted her up and dumped her onto bed, before she could sit up, Malfoy was on top of her, clutching her arms.

"Do you know how hard I have been trying?" he whispered into her ear.

"Trying what?" asked Hermione, shivering.

"I tried to have a decent dinner with you," he said. "Hoping that you would hate me less, but I was wrong."

"Get off me!"

Malfoy scoffed.

"You think I don't know?" he gritted through his teeth. "Trying to get laid in Phelp's bed, aren't you?"

"You get me wrong!" exclaimed Hermione. "I was just-"

Before she could finish her sentence, his lips crashed upon hers. Her gasp created a chance for his tongue to slide in, as if trying to suck out her breath. She could still taste the red wine and her tongue was paralyzed. Then she could feel warmth swirling on her abdomen, her gown was torn apart and Malfoy's abdomen was lying upon hers.

Her underwear was gone, and so was his. Having no experience, she was scared, petrified by his touch. His fingers glided pass her collarbone and she tried to wriggle her way out, only finding his grasp forbade her to make a move. She tried to kick him but his thighs pinned hers hard. She bit his tongue, hoping that it would stop him.

Malfoy was shocked, but immediately his hands clutched her wrists tighter.

"Too late," he annunciated, grinning.

Immediately, she felt immense pain and Malfoy's tongue intruded deeper. She struggled for breath but it only made his tongue going further and further. Energy drained from her body and the last thing she knew, was the his groan of pleasure and his body collapsed on top of her...


Writing this chapter in the middle of the night was not a great idea, but writing such content in broad daylight is even worse.