Thank you everyone for waiting for the next installment! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long; uni's just started back up. But don't worry, this entire story has been worked out from start to finish, I just need to write it all out hehe. Thank you for the lovely reviews, favourites and follows! It's certainly been such a long time since I've written fanfiction (the last time I did I was... 14, I think? Terribly written, even more so than how I write now. Shock horror!), so hopefully you won't cringe too hard reading all this. Enjoy my dearests! x
Chapter 2: Concede
The apartment was empty, save for Crookshanks, who was curled up on the left side of the sofa. He lifted his head and mewled to acknowledge Hermione coming home, but nothing more. Once upon a time, he would have leaped from the sofa to rub himself around her ankles affectionately, but he was getting on with age, even greying from the top of his furry head.
She dusted herself from the soot clinging to her clothing from the fireplace, set her bag down on the coffee table and collapsed next to Crookshanks. The aging cat slightly hissed at her, which she returned with a glare that she couldn't hold for more than a second. She had more pressing problems.
As she climbed into bed later that night, she felt the overwhelming feeling to cry, but even though she willed the tears to fall, they wouldn't. Slightly shocked and frustrated, she tossed and turned for half an hour.
Of course I'm restless. My fiancé is missing! She told herself as she flipped over onto her back and scowled at the ceiling. I can't cry because I'm thinking about how to get him back. This is just me going into "logic-mode". If I start freaking out about it, I'm going to prove Harry right.
Suddenly feeling paranoid, she swung her legs over the bed and made her way to her living room. She re-cast her wards and stood there for a couple of minutes. Her head was completely void of any thought, which was saying something for Hermione Granger.
I should be beside myself… That's what the normal grieving wife-to-be would be… right? I shouldn't be feeling like this is just another case. This is my fiancé missing. I'm too… calm about this.
Glancing at the clock above the fireplace, she realized it was already one o'clock in the morning. She was going to struggle with tomorrow's meeting.
As planned, the meeting was held at six in the morning. The meeting was changed to Harry's office, as there wasn't enough space in Malfoys (and perhaps because most of the Gryffindor Aurors refused to go in there). No one there looked as alert as Harry Potter. The team he had gathered were people she knew already, save for five older-looking Aurors; Seamus Finiggan, Ron Weasley, Cormac McLaggen, Dennis Creevey, Blaise Zabini, Katie Bell, and Roger Davis. Everyone seemed to be half asleep, save for Zabini, who looked more interested in the state of his cuticles.
Typical, Hermione thought to herself as she sat across from him.
Malfoy was sitting down the back with his arms crossed. She noticed that he was watching her with scrutiny, to which she held her nose higher in the air and turned her attention back to Harry. With a flick of his wand, everyone received a piece of parchment on the desk.
"As you all are aware by now, Anthony Goldstein is missing. I've specifically chosen you lot to be on this team to retrieve him. At seventeen hundred hours yesterday, Malfoy was given the task to inspect Goldstein's apartment, only to find him missing. There were traces of Dark Magic all over the living room and hallway. The last interaction with the Floo Network was made on the previous Friday, in which Goldstein was coming home from the Ministry. This suggests that whoever broke into the Apartment either had access to Apparate in, or is clever and strong enough to break his wards. Only truly Dark Magic can break Ministry-approved wards, as you all know.
"So preferably, I would like this case to be kept in discretion. No leaks out to the Prophet. Now have a look at the parchment each of you has received. These are your designated roles for this assignment," he began explaining everyones assignments, and leaving Hermione last. He seemed to have hesitated before speaking.
"Hermione, we need you in collecting the research and deciphering." He turned away from her and continued with the meeting before she had any time to reply, or even grasp what he had said.
"Harry, you promised!"
The-Boy-Who-Lived let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes, and I kept my word. You're on the case just not in the field."
"How utterly Slytherin of you." Hermione muttered. Harry smiled ruefully at her. "I promise I won't let my emotions get the better of me! You know me, Harry."
In the silence that followed, he seemed to be weighing his options. Hermione, who continued to look at him with a stubborn and beseeching manner, was ready to continue to fight, was completely taken back by his sudden change of heart. "Fine."
Her face lit up. "Oh Harry, thank you—"
"But only if you work with Malfoy."
This certainly wasn't expected. Another thick silence fell over them before Hermione began to splutter. "Harry James Potter, if you think for one second that I'll agree—"
"This will prove that you can keep your emotions in check, right? Malfoy is the biggest prick I can think of that I know you have a hard time dealing with. If you can keep yourself in check around him, then we have no problem." He put simply.
Logically, this all made sense, but Hermione felt the need to contest it anyway. "We'll kill each other!"
His eyebrows shot up his forehead and he pursed his lips, as if to say, "Well, that's all up to you" as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "So I take it you don't want to be on the case." It was more of a statement than a question.
Glaring at her best friend, she conceded. "Fine. Malfoy it is."
Draco Malfoy was not overly impressed either, brooding over a glass of Firewhiskey in his office. Hermione hesitated before walking in; he may have redeemed himself, but he was still the snarky, rude and arrogant bastard he was back at Hogwarts, sans the blood prejudices. What made it worse was that he was now more broody, calculative and downright intimidating. He could certainly instill fear in his colleagues, Hermione being one of them.
But she would never admit it out loud. She was a Gryffindor, was she not?
Taking a big gulp of air, she knocked on his door and pushed it open a little more, cringing at the sound of the door creaking. "So… I take it Harry sent you the memo before I got here." She tried to make the conversation light.
It didn't help.
Malfoy's eyes flickered at her with a set scowl before he curtly grunted in response.
Holding her head up high, Hermione made her way into his office, all the while conscious of the pair of grey eyes following her. She would not show how much he intimidated her. She made her way towards the visitors seat across (with a beautiful wooden desk in between them) from him and sat. She couldn't help but note how much comfier this chair was in comparison to her own in her office. Then she remembered this was Malfoy's office; of course everything in here would be impeccable.
"Look, I'll say what we're both thinking; I don't want to be working with you any more than you do me—"
"Unlikely," he drawled, taking another swig from his glass, emptying it. He poured himself another.
Hermione blanched, but continued. "but since we are, I want to set things straight."
He slowly raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at her above his raised glass, motioning for her to go on, since she had stopped to hear a reaction from him.
"If we are to work together, the first thing that's needs to go is the alcohol. No drinking during work hours."
The hand that set the glass onto the table twitched. "Granger—"
"I'm not finished," she snapped, "Secondly, we will remain professional at all times. Civil. There's no need to associate with each other outside of this case. Thirdly, I'll be in charge of the entire assignment. Unless I somehow desperately need your help, which will be unlikely, all you need to do is to stay out of the way."
Tension filled the air as Draco glared at her. Hermione's confidence almost faltered, but was turned into surprise at the dark tone Malfoy's voice has taken. "Granger, you're treading a on a thin rope."
"I'm trying to make this easier for all of us."
"What you're saying is that you think I can't do my job."
"Malfoy, not everything is about you—"
"Cut the bullshit, Granger. You wouldn't even be on this case if it were't for your groveling—"
"I do not grovel, Malfoy—"
"The fuck you don't. You know, accepting help from other people isn't always such a bad thing—"
"It is when it's you—"
"So much for professionalism—"
"How dare you question my professionalism! Speak for yourself, you alcoholic—"
"I'm nowhere near intoxicated—"
"That's not the point—"
"For fuck's sake, Granger, you'll be the fucking death of me."
Hermione huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Likewise."
Draco continued to glare at her as he spoke. "Whether you like it or not, I'm on the case and you're working with me. Only Merlin knows why Potter thought it would be a good idea, but if you'd like, I can owl him about how uncooperative you're being. We haven't even started yet," he threatened her. The hairs on her arms were standing and she could hear the blood roaring in her eyes. This man was infuriating. "Or," he continued, clearly satisfied that his threat had processed with her, "we could actually do our jobs. You know as well as anyone that the best person to work with on this particular case is me. No one else has as much knowledge on Dark Magic as much as I. And if this is an attack by some Death Eater group, I'm your best bet at finding Goldstein."
As much as Hermione wanted to deny it, she couldn't. Standing up abruptly, she slammed her hands on his desk and leaned, glaring. He leaned into his chair and smirked at her openly. He held a hand out to her. "Deal?"
Looking at his hand in disgust, she slapped it away and stalked out of the office, perfectly aware that her heels were making dents into his perfectly polished floor.