Hello Loves!

More from our favorite couple in this Chappie…Thank you so much for your reviews and follows and favorites! Special shout out to: spacecaps, HisBrokenAngel91, I WAS BOTWP, Jenil5184, SereniteRose & Beth.R.G- You all inspire me, please enjoy !

M. x

Harry Potter was exhausted, his body was aching for a scalding hot shower and the warmth of his own bed; limbs tangled around Ginny…yet here he stood in the pinkish dawn of East London. His eyes were adjusting to the gloom of the shadows that were quickly disappearing as dawn approached, he looked to his Godfather's personal prison…well maybe it wasn't so personal anymore.

A blast of icy wind, of cold, dreary winter, slashed through him with vengeance but still he hesitated, cautious as if the house were most displeased with him and his decision making in general. More likely all those living within the deep, maddening walls of Grimmauld Place were the ones cursing him to hell. Harry often stood outside this building, wondering if he should really intrude, should impose on their hospitality. It was limited these days for sure. Once arriving in the square he would stare up at 11 and 13 contemplating who occupied them and if their lives were any better or any worse than his.

Harry shook his head, why couldn't they all understand? That he was doing this for them, for their own good. He didn't risk his life on a daily basis so they could all complain about not getting along. Sirius and Severus, though still finding amusement at one another's pain, had settled into a comfortable, if not hilariously odd, companionship. Parkinson, as far as he could tell, was adapting quite civilly. Harry could pat himself on the back for another right choice he had made when assigning Auror placement. It was genius, really. He and Kingsley had agreed to put Hermione in charge of not only keeping watch of, but also tracking the progress of the defected Ice Queen. Harry would admit, the first few weeks had been rough, from both sides; he knew Hermione for far too long and much too well not to know she would give even better than she got. He smiled at the thought. Thank God he had had Hermione. She was his rock, she was reason and logic. So dependable and courageous; he knew it was only a matter of time before her positivity and loyalty would force Parkinson to crack. And Potter catches the snitch! Harry grinned at his brilliant deduction.

Then there was Ron, who absolutely refused to cooperate under the… less than pleasurable, circumstances, making Hermione's work load in Slytherins double, while Harry was constantly briefed by Snape that the fighting was getting worse and worse. Malfoy. That would have to be addressed sooner than later.

Harry's face fell rapidly into a frown as the first rays of sunlight hit the panes of the gothic, glass windows high above. He started forward, eager to avoid exposure with the coming day. Muggles would gawk if they would see him now, covered in blood. Not his, no…Neville. Harry wiped a hand over his face. It had been a close call last night. They had managed to bring in Goyle and Rodolphus was dead; he had nearly taken Neville with him. Two…three…four am… Just waiting…waiting. Time always slowed when fear of death was palpable. Harry had only left St. Mungos 20 minutes ago, when the healers had told him Neville was stable, sleeping and that he, Harry, needed to get rest. They cleaned him up as best as they could, though he had strict demands of not allowing them to touch him. Call it PTSD if you will.

When Harry opened his eyes again, number 12 shown like the most evil of cursed dwellings. He heaved a great sigh and jogged quickly up the stairs, letting himself through the dark-stained wooden door that groaned in resistance. It was dead silent and unfriendly as ever; why had he come here again? Sirius. He thought as he hurried quietly down the corridor. God he still couldn't believe he had gotten his Godfather back. Harry couldn't explain it, but after every mission he went on where the odds were looking particularly grim (who was he kidding when didn't they give him the high risk cases?) this was the last stop he would make before going home. It was their routine of sorts, their time, just the two of them. Harry always felt especially raw after a blood-drenched job and Sirius was there to "humor" him and lessen the pain. Sirius claimed it to be his parental duty.

Harry pushed through the kitchen door with a grin on his face. Sirius looked up from his notes at the end of the table and his jaw dropped.

"Harry." He stood quickly, knocking over several coffee cups and a bottle of whiskey.

"I'm…fine. Swear." Sirius approached him in disbelief.

"Really? Because you look like shit." They embraced with an intensity that drove tears to one another's eyes. True family. After several moments, Sirius turned away gruffly motioning to the table for Harry to sit and pouring two whiskeys. Harry took the chair closest to the roaring fire. Sirius gracefully dropped down beside him, his glass in the air.

"To your health, Harry."

"And yours."

Harry's throat lit on fire as he allowed the liquid to possess him and return feeling to his tight chest. Sirius was staring at him with light, playful eyes, amusement etched on every bit of his devilishly handsome face.

"So. Since you are still in one piece I'm assuming I'm the first one you've run into this morning?"

"Is it really morning?"

"Ah, morning." Sirius looked wistful. "How I treasure the silence."

Harry laughed. "That bad?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow as he generously refilled their glasses.

"Severus is fine. He's actually a wonderful reading partner." Harry's eyebrows rose exponentially upon his head and he dropped his jaw with a disbelieving laugh. He tried to picture Snape and Sirius reading to one another amongst the oddities of the absurd Black drawing room that he had often explored with Hermione. "Well," Sirius cocked his head as he thought hard. "More than anything, he reads out loud, a habit I'm afraid I've yet to inform him of, and I just sit there and listen, laughing only when it is completely inappropriate to do so. Most of the time he ignores me, but every once in awhile he will throw me a Snivelus glare and I begin to laugh uncontrollably at the memory. He usually leaves after that; I expect he thinks I'm either drunk or mad…I'm usually both." He added in an afterthought as he took another swig. "That's what dying will do to you." His eyes moved to a far away place, not with sadness but with resignation before returning his gaze to his worried looking Godson. Sirius grinned.

"So yes, Severus and I are on remarkable terms…considering."

"Can't say I'm not shocked."

"Nor can I."

"And Ron? Hermione?"

"You mean individually? Or as an item?" Sirius linked his fingers together and looked down at them in confusion.

"I guess individually?" Sirius nodded once, his brow furrowing even more.

"Well Ron is…a bit difficult. I've given up on trying to control him, but it seems as though Hermione has once again picked up the slack." Harry felt guilty about that. "Don't get me wrong, she's doing just fine. Hermione is…very energetic when it comes to her duties, very eager to learn, explore, and correct everyone. At all times."

"Sounds like Hermione." Chuckled Harry.

"She's been a very calming presence here, well that was until recently. Plus, I love to laugh at her."

"What do you mean at her? Harry bristled.

"She's very amusing, easily embarrassed and wound up, especially around Malfoy." Harry's entire body tensed.

"What do you mean by that?" Sirius grinned evilly before waving Harry's question away with a flick of his hand.

"You'll see."

At that precise moment, the two people in question came storming through the door and into the kitchen, completely unaware that they had an audience.

"Enough!" Hermione whispered viciously.

"It's enough when I say it's enough." Malfoy hissed, stalking after her. She whipped around to face him, furious. Harry sat transfixed; Sirius was watching Harry with hilarious anticipation as if to say Hold onto your seats!

"Of all the insane things to say….the arrogance, the undermining!" She sputtered in rage, her chest heaving with indignation, as he slowed his pace, getting right up in her face.

"Admit it, Granger. You're so pissed off because you know, deep down, I'm right." Draco's arm snaked out and he grabbed her around the waist as Harry reached for his wand. Sirius placed a hand on Harry's arm, willing him to wait, as he leaned forward in anticipation; it was as if he were watching a particularly exciting action sequence in a film. Hermione looked more than affronted at Malfoy's bold gesture, though her cheeks were a delicate pink.

"How dare you-" She began.

"What?" Taunted Malfoy, pulling her flush against him. "He'll never satisfy you-"

That seemed to be her breaking point. Hermione gasped in outrage a split second before her open palm collided with his cheek. There was a deafening silence and then, Malfoy….was laughing. Openly, loudly, with cheer! Harry was so shocked to hear genuine mirth erupt past Draco's sneering lips that he momentarily forgot he was angry. Sirius gave him an "I told you so" look. But then Harry's shock went into overdrive as his gaze landed on Hermione, who was definitely fighting against her own amusement at whatever the hell had just transpired. She quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms as she watched Draco continue to heave with hilarity.

"Wow Malfoy, you must really like it rough." Now that was out of character. What the hell was going on? Was this, his, Harry's fault? Had she gone mad? Harry tried to form half fragmented theories as he took in the absurdity playing out before his very eyes.

"Well, he is half Black." Was Sirius' drawl from the shadows.

Hermione jumped a mile high, her eyes wider than a deer's in headlights. Her gaze fell to Harry, his jaw was hanging open in shock.

"Harry!" She squealed. She chanced a glance at Draco, he looked happier than a pig in shit. Was there nothing he wouldn't do or say to get her fired up?

"Morning, Potter." He drawled. Harry wished in that moment, that Hermione would have slapped him much harder.

"I…" Hermione cleared her throat looking anywhere but at Harry. My God, I can only imagine what he thinks! "-just got back from the Ministry-" Draco strolled over to the table, settling himself in. He threw her a haughty glare.

"And where the fuck was I? Timbuktu?"

Hermione's eyes snapped up at his rude tone and accidentally fell on Harry; she had noticed the blood, immediately. She rushed forward throwing herself onto him.

"What happened?" And she was off on a rant. Hermione ran her hands and wand all over him looking for wounds. Draco snorted in disgust and averted his gaze. Harry could barely absorb her words, all thoughts currently fixed on Malfoy. What the fuck was going on? He needed to speak with Ron. Harry forced himself back to the present. "Harry if you don't tell me this instant-"

"Hermione. Look at me." He grabbed her wrists to cease her assault. He was still sore from battle. "I'm fine, everything's fine." Is it? He thought to himself.

Her eyes shown with unrelenting concern as she glanced down at his clothes. "And Neville?"

"He's fine." That wasn't technically a lie. She instantly relaxed and threw her arms around him in relief. He hugged her back tightly; her love and concern made his throat clog with emotion.

"If you're done molesting our boss-" Came Malfoy's sneering drawl. " I'd like to begin the briefing."

Hermione threw him a withering glare before extracting herself from Harry's grasp and seating herself next to Draco. Even though he knew it was procedure, it made him more than smug as he raised a challenging eyebrow to Potter.

"Harry, looks exhausted." Hermione stated. "It can wait-"

"No." Both Harry and Draco spoke at the same time. "Go ahead Hermione." Harry continued, shooting a glare at Malfoy which was returned with a sharp sneer. Hermione gave Sirius a small, embarrassed smile before becoming all business.

"November the 28th, 21:00 hours, coordinates-" Draco waved his hand with impatience, cutting her off.

"Fuck, Granger, does everything about you have to be so rigidly structured? Just tell them what happened." Hermione puffed up like an indignant bird of prey, seconds from clawing this snake's eyes out. She turned on him ready to explode, but then something clicked. This is what he wants, no? She thought savagely. To make me lose my mind and therefore undermine my reasoning and the validity of my statements. She decided right then in there that she would fool him. If he thought her to be so rigid, overly logical and therefore completely predictable, then it was her duty to knock that knowing smirk off his face. She snapped her mouth shut and turned back to Harry.

"Malfoy and I went to SOHO. We found the band of Snatchers. It was relatively simple, even though Malfoy complained about the rain and questioned my sense of direction several times, hence bringing unwanted attention to us- his hair didn't help. " She looked at him as if he was a particularly nasty bug. "I restrained the suspects and Malfoy beat them up then questioned them." She threw in a disapproving sniff to emphasize his clear breech in procedure. "Of course that was after we took a portkey to the Ministry, he's above the rules you see? We left the captives with Kingsley and filed our reports. Then Draco bought me a coffee." She paused there to let the full affect of her words sink in. It was a conversational tactic she had picked up from the devil on her left. "I wanted to discuss all the information we acquired-" She threw a bundle of notes across the table to Harry. "- all the evidence against that foul, evil woman. But Malfoy here, was much more interested in insulting Ron, smoking all my fags, spiking my coffee with a flask he illegally nicked off some bum in SOHO, and trying at least 600 ways to put his slithering appendages all over and inside of my person." Harry's furious gaze snapped to Malfoy.

"You did what?" His voice was a deadly calm.

"I'd like a pay raise, Harry," Hermione continued with a supreme air of snobbery. "if I am to be forced into such an unsuitable working environment."

"Forced!" Draco's eyes had become a foreboding pewter. "Surely you don't mean in the library last night when you threw yourself at-"

"Oh please Malfoy! You are delusional."

"And what does that make you?" He snarled. "Alice in fucking Wonderworld?"

"Land! Wonderland! Stop using Muggle references if you aren't going to say them CORRECTLY!" She nearly screamed, jumping to her feet.

"Why not? Isn't that what you want? Your little experiment to fuck with my head and turn me into some Muggle loving fool!" He roared standing suddenly and facing her head on. She scoffed at that.

"We all know that's about as likely as me becoming stupid. I'm not stupid Malfoy."

"Could have fooled me!"

"Are we to have a duel?" Sirius asked, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"More of an obliteration." Hermione growled. Draco looked down at her. Her beautiful breasts were heaving through her white tee shit, her cheeks flushed with passionate rage…Draco's eyes fell to her lips and desire flooded him, momentarily halting his furious brain. He hoped she felt as hopelessly frustrated as he did. They stood there, inches apart, staring at one another as their anger simmered, only to be infused with a very uncomfortable emotion that neither of them seemed to be able to place. Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. Hermione snapped out of her trace and lowered her eyes as she quickly dropped into her seat and began nervously twirling her wand. Malfoy was still standing, staring into the space where she had been moments before. It looked as if he was contemplating a very serious revelation, or perhaps murder.

"Malfoy." Harry's voice broke the tension. "I'm putting you on potions duty-" Malfoy's gaze turned furiously to Harry, his eyes like painfully sharp ice. "-until further notice." He wanted to say until you both figure out your intentions, but Draco slammed his palms onto the table with a deafening THWACK that made Hermione cringe. Maybe she had been exaggerating a little bit...he looked beyond pissed off. Draco leaned over the table, looking at Harry with cold and unfeeling eyes.

"So that's my sentence?" He hissed. "The Boy Who Lived to be Fair…of course you'd only listen to her side. Your perfect little princess." He spat with venom. "Who cares what I have to say, right?" Word of a Death Eater and all that." He turned away.

"Malfoy, I don't have time for you and Hermione's...unresolved issues. Until you two…sort things, I don't see another option."

"I do! Punish her too! Let us work it out. Together." He growled through clenched teeth.

"Surrounded by poisons and Veritiserum?" Sirius raised his eyebrows in delight at the thought.

"They'd most likely blow up the dungeons." Harry insisted.

"Fine by me." Sirius quipped. Harry eyed his Godfather with hesitation before turning back to the two people who were making his head ache.

"I'll…think about it."

Draco snarled with annoyance. Harry's eyes fell on Hermione, whose silence made him suspicious.

"I'd like to speak with you, privately." She nodded slowly, still not lifting her gaze. Harry could see her brain throbbing with excuses and explanations. They both stood.

"Congratulations, Granger," Malfoy spat at her as she walked past him, her nose in the air. "You've won the prize for biggest fucking bitch, ever." She smiled blandly up at him.

"Harry, let's go up to the Drawing room, it's rather cozy up there and we will be removed from prying eyes and overly inflated egos." She reached for his hand, pulling Harry from the room without a backward glance, but her sultry voice carried loudly as the door swung shut. "Remember that one time when we explored..." She broke off into a whisper and he couldn't quite catch the words that were followed by Potter's laughter.

The rage that was humming through Draco's body was surely going to bring him to his knees. He drew back a chair viciously before slamming himself down onto it. Her and Potter, their excessive affection for one another, made him sick. He racked his brain for memories of the two of them, trying to find moments that could prove the validity of the intent behind her statement. Cozy indeed. Weeks ago Hermione had confided in him about how devastated she and Potter were when Weasley ran off like a coward for a few months during their hunt for Voldemort's horocruxes. Away from prying eyes… a graphic image of Potter inside of her, his naked limbs wrapped around her sweet, sweat-glazed flesh, made Draco heave for the whiskey bottle. Explored...He brought it up to his lips and gulped greedily desperate to diffuse the jealously rotting away at his insides. Sirius laughed at the expression on his face.

"This is war." Draco hissed, his hand clenching tightly around the bottle, fantasying that it was Granger's throat underneath his firm grasp, whether in pain or pleasure, it didn't matter. Sirius brought his glass to his lips, which were quirked with glee.

"All's fair, mate."

Draco smoked the rest of her cigarettes in brooding silence, trying to destroy her natural scent that was clogging his brain and his dick with despair, driving him to The Cliffs of Insanity. He was addicted, he was fucking sick.

Sirius watched on. Yes, it was good to be alive. He could appreciate this clearly "driven mad by desire", insane relative. Draco was living, though it was hard, he was alive and he could feel. Where was Kreacher? He was going to need a refill.

Maybe just maybe, Sirius had been mistaken. Perhaps it would be Hermione Granger who drove Malfoy to madness.