A/N: Chapter Thirty-Seven!

I entered the guest room, having arrived with Hernandez to Draco's apartment. It was a penthouse, as if I expected anything less, with an amazing view of the Upper East Side. He had clearly done well for himself, as a designer. I noticed various photographs and magazine covers lining his walls. In them, various models were dressed in his own designs. Until then, I hadn't heard about the fact that he stopped working for Benoit and started working on his own line. If things weren't awkward between us, I would have told him how proud I was, that he was well on his way to accomplishing his dreams.

"Hermione," he voiced, standing on the other side of the door. "I know you're tight on time, but do you think we could talk for a minute?"

Something tugged at my chest. "Erm — sure. Just one second." I slipped out of my clothes and into the dress he'd lent me, with insurmountable haste, before opening the door. "Hi."

His attention remained at eye level, as he proceeded into the room. "How's the fit?"

"It — It's good," I nodded, glancing into the full length mirror.

The dress was a simple black number with a sweetheart neckline and skirts that ran inches below my knees. It was smart and sensible, and with it I had a smooth white shawl to cover my shoulders, should the weather disagree with me.

"So, what did you want to discuss?" I asked him, fixing my hair into a sleek knot.

"Right —" From there, he glanced down and in his hand, held a pair of pumps. "I figured you might need these."

It was bizarre, being back in his presence, wearing one of his creations — but there was no part of me that felt the same magnetism that I did in Benoit's dress shop. I mean, sure, mine and Nott's relationship was on the rocks, as both our schedules had taken such a hectic turn. That, however, didn't change the fact that I loved Nott and that a simple good deed from Draco Malfoy wasn't enough to distort what we shared.

"Do you secretly dress in women's clothes or…?"

Draco laughed, placing the heels at my feet, moving back as I slipped into them. "I design clothes for a living, or did you forget?"

I broke into a grin, turning towards the mirror and taking one last look at myself. It had been ages since the last time I'd dressed up for anything. Even though I was on a mission, it felt nice to wear good clothes and pretend to be someone that mattered — if only for the night.

"Your apartment is nice," I voiced, making adjustments to my hair. "I'm sure your friends have a good time 'round here."

"Actually, I haven't had anyone over in about a year," he confessed to me, leaning against the doorframe. " — nor have I been anywhere else."

For some reason, his confession didn't sit well with me. I ignored the discomfort in my stomach and faced him. "Is there something else you wanted to discuss, or was it just about the shoes?"

Maintaing eye level, he straightened his posture. "I wanted to let you know that I'm glad you came to me tonight — and that I have no plans of interfering in yours and Nott's relationship."

I opened my mouth to say something, taken aback. "You —"

"Save it," he interjected, flashing me a knowing look, one that silenced me as much as his words had done. "Things have been awkward between us for a long time, and as much I'd love to pretend we're on good terms, I can't. That said, I have enough respect for both you and Nott, to keep my distance. I'll get you and your Auror friend into the gala — and that's all. No funny business from me. No letters. No propositions."

There were a number of things I could have said in response, but I settled with an even nod.

One Hour Later

It turned out the black tie affair Jones had mentioned wasn't any old soiree. It was the annual Met Gala, complete with a red carpet and other frivolities. I felt out of place the moment we stepped out of the car, knowing Hernandez, my date for the evening, felt the exact same.

Regardless, there was a job to be done.

Draco was already invited to the event, as he was an up and coming designer, and close friends with Anna Wintour (wot) which meant his job was to dress us up and get us in, which he did. I entered alongside Hernandez, knowing he was sweating from the hairline. Somehow, we had managed to dodge the photographers, not that Muggles had any interest in our lives. To these people, I was a stranger, a nobody. I would have taken advantage of the situation and had a few, but I had to stay on my best behaviour.

"Game face," Hernandez mumbled under his breath, though I couldn't tell whether he was talking to me or himself.

I moved with him to an area that was a little less crowded, where we could had an overhead view. People were chatting and having drinks, exchanging information, envious of one another and ultimately uptight. I figured the mood would die out as the evening progressed. It was still cocktail hour, which meant the formal dinner had yet to take place, but I had no plans of sticking around for that. I had one name on my mind.

"Do you see him?" I whispered to Hernandez, mouth lingering near him, to make it look like we were a couple.

Catching the signals I was putting down, the man placed one hand along the small of my back and leaned towards me — something I had given him permission to do before we arrived. "Two o'clock. By those twins."

I waited a moment, before following his line of vision, locating a tall, red-haired gentleman, dressed to the nines, chatting with a pair of familiar looking twins. It took me about three seconds to realize.

"Oh, my Gosh!" I exclaimed, clapping a hand over my mouth. "He — He's talking to Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen!"

Hernandez looked to me, a firm arch in his brow. "Who?"

I turned to him, eyes wide. "Full Hou — never mind. Just, wait here. I'll give you the signal when the time is right."

From there, I moved to a different area, closer to where Jonathan Young was chatting with my childhood idols. It was game time. There was one shot to pull this off, one chance to make sure the bastard was thrown behind bars. If he so much as suspected I was up to something, he would run, as he'd been running for the past five years.

To my knowledge, he had a thing for famous women. I wouldn't have classed myself as 'famous' per se, but my name was known in the wizarding community. I was sure he'd know me, and for the first time, I would use my public portrayal to my advantage.

I let my hair down, brushing through the curls with the tips of my fingers, watching through my peripheral vision, as the twins left his side and as he wheeled a look around, searching for his next victim.

It took about five seconds for his attention to fall squarely on me. I could feel him looking at me, recognizing me, questioning my presence at a Muggle event — and only then, did I flick my gaze in his direction. I'll admit, he was a looker — a poor excuse for a human being, but a looker nonetheless.

With only my eyes, I beckoned him towards me, watching as he shifted the bow-tie around his neck. There was a determined look on his face, something I could have laughed at, were the mission not relying on my success. I opted to stay where I was, swiping a glass of champagne from one of the serving trays and pretending to sip from it. I figured he'd been even more interested in a slightly inebriated famous woman.

Around one minute later, there was a tap on my shoulder.

I turned, expecting to find Jonathan with his tongue drooping out of his mouth, and instead laying eyes on a young woman, around my age, dressed in red, with a man who appeared to be old enough to be her father. Though, from the hold she had on his arm, I figured he was her date.

Gross.

"That dress is to die for!" she exclaimed, dazzled as she scanned my outfit. "You have to tell me who you're wearing!"

I paused, forgetting the answer for a couple seconds. "Erm — Draco Malfoy."

The young woman nodded enthusiastically, as though she had known all along. "I love his new line. Plus, he's so hot! My name's Bethany, FYI."

"Nice to meet you," I managed to say, blank in the eyes, forcing a smile on my face as I took an actual drink from the champagne.

"By the way," she furthered, leaning to my ear. "What is Hermione Granger doing at the Met Gala?"

I paused, choking on the champagne. "Beg — Beg your pardon?"

Bethany winked at me. "Don't worry. I won't tell."

"You're a — You're a witch?" I asked her, making sure to keep my voice down.

She nodded, pulling her date into the conversation. " — and my gorgeous date here is the famous experimental Healer, Atticus Grant."

I looked to the man, and the peculiar colour of his suit. It was plum purple and a little louder than what the other gentlemen were wearing. He was, without a doubt, a wizard. Part of me felt stupid for not realizing it sooner, but we were at a fashion event, so…

"I'll be right back. I'm going to find Izzy and introduce her to my new best friend Hermione Granger. Wait here!" Bethany planted a kiss on Atticus Grant's cheek, before leaving us to our own devices.

In that moment, he looked at me, amusement in his eyes. "Sorry about that. She's a little firecracker, that one."

I returned his look. "That's okay," I assured him, listening Bethany's earlier words repeat with in my subconscious. "So, you're an experimental Healer?"

He nodded. "For the past ten years. Nothing fancy. Just bending the rules without breaking them."

"If you don't mind me asking, what sort of experiments do you conduct?"

"Modified wolfsbane, as to make the monthly transformation less painful as well as the original purpose of giving the victim consciousness throughout their phase. It wasn't a complete success, but I'm stilling working on it. I've also dabbled in preventative potions to combat Veela-related compulsion," he explained. " — still no cure for the common cold, however."

I shared a laugh with him. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you. I don't think I've ever met an experimental Healer before."

"It's not something one would usually brag about," Atticus furthered, shrugging, acting a lot younger than he appeared, which made sense out of his situation with Bethany. "Bit frowned upon, to be honest."

"But you're doing good work," I reasoned.

To this, his expression wavered. "Not everyone agrees. Particularly families of the patients. They feel I give their loved ones false hope, in exchange for money. It's a messy situation, but I do the best I can."

Grant's words resonated with me, causing the little voice in the back of my mind to grow louder and louder, until I couldn't help but speak.

"Have you any experience with Arcturus Disease?" I asked, knowing it was a shot in the dark, but trying anyway. "It's — erm — It's a degenerative disease exclusive to —"

" — pureblood males," Grant finished, nodding. "I'm familiar with it. It's actually the reason I turned to experimental Healing. My good friend died of Arcturus Disease when we were kids."

I stared at him, moist eyed. "I'm so sorry…"

"It was a long time ago," he shrugged, though not enough to convince me the mention of his friend had no affect on him. "Anyway, I've been conducting several experiments regarding AD and although I usually keep my results close to me, I'll let you in on a little secret."

Something tugged at my heartstrings. "What kind of secret?"

Grant took the expression on my face in, for a brief moment, as though he realized with one look, what I had riding on his next words. "Husband?"

"Boyfriend," I answered, glancing down a moment, holding back the emotion that threatened to pool around my eyes.

"Well, why don't you finish up for the night and then send him to me," the man said, reaching into his breast pocket and handing me his card. "It hasn't been released to the public, but I think I have what your boyfriend is looking for."

Twenty Minutes Later

Hernandez pulled me aside, having located me as I wheeled a look around, in search of our target. In all the chaos that erupted, from my discussion with Atticus Grant, the mission at hand had slipped my mind.

"Sorry," I blurted, following him to a secluded area. "Someone came up to me and —"

" — don't worry about it," he interjected. "Young is headed for the mens room. He's set to leave within the hour. We don't have much time."

I nodded, chucking our original plan out of the window and heading for the desired room. More than a few gentlemen glanced in my direction, but I had no time to tell them off, as there was too much riding on the next few moments.

From there, both myself and Hernandez proceeded to the doors of the mens room, during which time I signalled for him to cover me, before I popped one look inside and around the corner, and found Jonathan Young snorting a line of cocaine, alone.

His eyes found mine, as he glanced into the mirror, narrowing a moment, before he turned and leaned back, against the ledge of the sinks. Slow as can be.

"You, young lady, have been teasing me all night," he voiced, shooting me a wink. "What do you think your friend Harry Potter would say about that?"

I smiled at this, moving closer to him, making sure to hold his gaze the entire way there. "I'm here to have fun, same as you."

Jonathan then tossed me a look, so sickening that it made my skin crawl. "Why don't you come over here, and we'll have some fun together?"

"I like the sound of that…"

Seconds later, we were in close proximity. I could taste the stench of his cologne, which smelled so strong that I was sure he bathed in it. There was also his hand, which moved up and down my left arm, bringing me closer to him before he gestured towards the remaining line of cocaine.

"For me?" I asked.

He nodded.

I hid the discomfort in my veins and bent down, pretending to gather my hair to one side, waiting one second, two seconds, three, until reaching into my cleavage and withdrawing a narrow strip of wood: ten inches and dragon heartstring core.

"Stupefy!" I exclaimed, feeling a sharp, precise surge of magic leave the end of my wand, and watching as it made contact with the target's chest, propelling the man backwards, before he slammed into the wall and fell to the floor in a heap.

Hernandez entered then, breathing hard, looking at me, surprised with just a hint of a smile on his lips. "I guess that's one way to do it."

A/N: Thoughts on Atticus Grant? Is he out for money or does he actually have something that will help Nott?

Cheers

xo.