Blaise had woken up to a quite neglected Draco. He hadn't shaved in two days and his hair was a mess. He'd been rattling on ever since he'd entered the room. Blaise was about to loose it. The lad was just talking to himself. Yes, the Parkinson lead was a good thing. A real possible thing even. But right now, he just wanted the blond out. His ordeal was far from ending though, because someone knocked at his door. Well, guess who it was? Two more sodding babbling annoying little people. He told them about Parkinson's letter and the chatter just became worse and worse. He couldn't wait for them to fuck off to the ministry already.

Harry had slept home for the first time in ages. Ginny had been so happy she'd forgotten her anger. In quite a nice and inventive way. He was in a good mood, it was going to be a good day. Hermione had arrived at his office around nine fifteen, looking err, as good as she could without sleep. She had the smile at least. Malfoy and Lavender had been following her closely and had looked as determined and … hopeful? as she. They'd brought news. This could stop the ongoing missions. This could lead directly to arrest. IF they were right, this would be a fucking relief. As head trainee Harry had access to the totality of the ministry's archives so he'd just given them his badge. He still had to plan in case this was yet another dead end. But it wouldn't be, it was Hermione's lead. That sodding little shop. Her gut feeling, his good mood, a good day.

They'd been in since ten, it was now two pm and still nothing. If there was something it was well hidden. Greegrasses looked clean. Too clean. Linked to no one except Malfoy. Whom had left them to return to his job and well, hers too. Neville had joined them around eleven. He looked sad, as he always did after seeing his parents. He would cope though, he always did, they all always did. He hadn't talked about it to her. At all. Maybe he doubted Malfoy had asked her. Usually he at least mentioned it. He hadn't now, but she kept feeling his eyes on her from time to time, and as she knew he wouldn't speak, she'd have to herself, if she didn't want to be disturbed by his intense stare all day.

"All right that's enough. I'm starving, lunch break!" Called Lavender. "My eyes hurt anyway." Hermione wondered again when was the last time she'd eaten. Oh in Blaise's room they'd had something. Actually she'd only had coffee.

"Right I'm starving too."

"I'll go fetch something then." And the golden blond girl scurried out of the room. Quite convenient of her to give Hermione some time alone with Neville. She looked at her friend and decided not to be too blunt, he looked a bit fidgety.

"Neville?"

"Yes Mione?" He looked warily at her. Neville didn't "Mione" her often, he had to be worried.

"Malfoy asked me."

"Oh. Did you have too much work ?"

"Well I did but you know it's not why …"

"I know. I … are you all right? I mean, I had no choice but to ask him to …"

"I'm fine. Don't you worry."

"Right. I …" His round features wrinkled in a uncomfortable expression and he was more and more fidgeting. This worried Hermione a bit, there had to be more to it than the simple fact he'd had to ask Malfoy to deliver his message.

"Yes?"

"I … you know I don't usually bother you with this but since you're branching the subject …"

"What is it? I don't really wish to talk about it Neville."

"I know but … I saw Luna."

"Err, all right I don't see why this is …"

"Just … listen please." She nodded, now worried that he had some sort of bad news. Luna wasn't assigned to them but maybe it was about his parents? He kept going, slowly. "She hum she's been working on something for quite some time. She told me, but didn't want you to know until it might actually be relevant."

"What is it?" He hesitated for a few seconds and then seemed to have gathered enough courage to start talking, so he did, without a pause.

"A potion. Look, there was a slight possibility that memory could be triggered by blood remember? You did some research on that."

"I remember, I did an essay during training but it was way beyond my abilities to even study … Even the most experimented healers prefer not to work with blood Neville, it's too close to dark magic and too unpredictable. Right?"

"Right. But see she got an idea, from a very brilliant witch," He winked at her and she almost blushed. "to maybe study muggle medicine and psychology." Hermione's mind was racing again, she'd get a headache at this rate.

"Go on."

"Right. So she studied psychiatry for some time and then she bifurcated to genetics by chance. She found an interesting article that talked about lineage and DNA, which can be identified within blood. Follow me?"

"Yes yes go ahead."

"All right. She's been trying to create a potion that would trigger your parents' memory of you by using your shared DNA. I have no idea how she's done it and it's not achieved yet but … she told me it was time for you to know because she's been trying and … well it's promising. It could cure your parents. It could help so many traumatised victims from the war to remember their attackers, it could do so many things that … well she published it on the healers paper and if she gets a bit of founds then …"

"Then she'll properly test it. I always forget she was a Ravenclaw." Hermione couldn't believe her ears. Luna, too happy Luna, had worked on her long abandoned project since she'd dropped. How generous and selfless of her. Even if it didn't work Hermione would owe her a priceless debt. Maybe, just maybe, soon she could regain some hope. Not now though. She wouldn't let herself hope now, it was too early, plus she'd lost all hope already a long time ago and it had left her so empty … she wouldn't let that happen again. Hope would be only for when they'd know for sure. Yes, she wouldn't think about them yet.

"I know, she's brilliant."

"Fuck yes." She said and he winced at the curse. "Sorry." He smiled.

"I always forget you can swear like a Slytherin sometimes." He teased.

"Oh! That's a bit mean Neville!"

"Are you all right with all that Mione?"

"Yes. It's all right." The biggest lie of all. But she'd just shut that part of her brain. Her talk with Malfoy had been enough for the time being. It had been surprisingly relieving and she felt like a weight had gone off of her chest, she wasn't about to add a new one with hope. No. No. No.

"Should we keep working while we wait for Lavender? She might be having a steak for all we know." He took the hint and nodded, the subject was closed.

Draco couldn't bear being away from the important matters. He'd had to go back to his job and as he wrote yet another sodding report on yet another international incident, his mind kept going elsewhere. Self-righteous bitch Parkinson. Lucky he hadn't needed a shag so badly he'd gone to her. He would have gotten himself in quite the trouble. Lucky he hadn't even seen her since the war! Oh! The wards had kept her away hadn't they? He'd added anyone with bad intentions to the banning ward, this had been tricky but he'd succeeded. And now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure the bint would have tried to come at his door. Yet, she never did, or she never could. Salazar this was unbearable.

Would they warn him if they found anything in the archives? Probably not, or only if they needed him and they wouldn't. They'd go straight to planning. He'd have to ask. Well, maybe they hadn't found anything yet. It'd only been half a day and he needed to finish writing this report. He went back to it.

Five minutes later he was, again, thinking about that Parkinson slut. All right, he needed to know. He stood to go to the archives but returned to his seat before reaching the door. This morning hadn't been too awkward with Granger since they'd been all really excited about their lead and had had to inform Potter and the others about it, but now he felt uncomfortable with going to her because he'd lost patience.

It was idiotic, she'd broken the ice the night before, with slight mocking banter to which he'd responded easily but it'd been in the heat of the moment and now … well now he felt like he'd given too much and had exposed himself somehow. Like if confiding in that woman he'd spent years hating, that little bookworm that could be too bossy and irritating, had made him feel … well he could confess that to himself, couldn't he? It made him feel vulnerable. She was the only one to know how guilt was eating him, how hatred had tinted his soul. It was a very personal and intimate feeling that he'd shared with her, not really knowing what he'd been doing. Seeing her upset had made him want to redeem his wrongs to her and at least listen to her, and when she'd confided in him, when it was clearly something she didn't share that often, it had woken up his guilt even more. So he'd snapped, and just confided too, and apologized. He'd almost cried in front of her too, something he never did. He'd taken her hand for Salazar's sake! He'd tried to comfort her. And … she'd comforted him, kept willingly her hand in his, cried even more, but been supportive and strongly opposed to his guilt. She'd exposed herself too, hadn't she? She had to feel vulnerable too, or maybe her Gryffindor background made her less uncomfortable with sharing her feelings? This was way too confusing and he didn't want to face her empty eyes just now. But he so wanted to know what was going on, that only one solution offered to him: the parchment. The thing he should have used the night before. Or maybe not. He didn't know.

- Have you found anything?

Her response took a few minutes and was written carelessly, probably between two pages of a file.

- Nothing yet. Greegrasses look too clean in my opinion. Nothing that links them to anyone but that little shop of yours yet.

Yet? He asked:

- You're still looking through estates?

- Yes, and there's so much to look through that Harry's still sending the first team out to check on the closest location.

Maybe this was not so much of a lead after all.

- Better stay safe than sorry. Have you looked at business selling? Maybe they sold something to Applebea, or me …

Or maybe they're not involved and Parkinson's just a slut. This was perfectly plausible too.

- Well, I would have to know which year, if I am to look through every file since the war it'll take weeks.

Right. How could they track business otherwise? Well through money but there wasn't any records at the ministry, the goblins were way too secretive. Maybe she could ask Potter?

- Gringott's?

- Money transactions. Too clever. Who are you? Why did you imperioed Malfoy?

He chuckled, she still teased, on paper. Maybe this wouldn't have been too awkward after all.

- Sorry to disappoint you Granger but I haven't been imperioed. I'm very much my too clever self, as you put it. How does it feel to be surpassed? I hope you're not too upset about it.

- All right this is indeed you. I can tell from the vomit-inducing over-pouring arrogance that I can smell through the paper. It made me gag. Don't you ever believe you can surpass me Malfoy, if school is of any relevance here, I can very much say that you were never clever enough to.

Well if that wasn't rubbing her grades in his face, what was?

- This is not arrogance, this is just stating the obvious. You're just upset that I thought about it before you is all. We're not in school any more Granger, this is real life, and you're under me.

Oh, this had a double meaning he didn't really know how he felt about. Should he joke or ignore it? This was Granger. He didn't get time to decide that her answer was there.

- As much as you wish I was Malfoy, I will never be under you, intellectually or physically.

Shite she was good. And he should have mocked her first. He decided to use her own phrasing:

- Well, this is vomit-inducing.

- Thank you very much.

- No need, just stating the obvious.

Here, in her face. Her response was very short:

- ASS.

That made him laugh.

Neville was still speaking vividly of Gringott's, saying something about Goblins when Hermione received Harry's flying note. Kingsley would probably have to go and negotiate with the goblins himself since they didn't really have a motive to require such documents. It was still a start. She lowered her eyes to the parchment that had almost made her laugh in front of Neville and Lavender, thinking the banter had ended, but wanting to tell Malfoy about Harry's note.

- MARE?

She couldn't help it, she chuckled. This animal calling was just so childish and yet so … freeing? After the precedent night Hermione had tried not to let things get awkward with Malfoy, she wanted to play civil, but their confessions and apologies and well … hand-holding just felt … it felt awkward. It had been right in the moment, and she didn't regret it at all but, it was Malfoy. She'd confided in him, and he'd surprisingly done the same. He'd been on the verge of crying the whole time and she'd cried in front of him, multiple times. It wouldn't have had this strange uneasy out coming feeling if it'd been with anyone else. Old times enemies didn't just tell each other their deepest secrets like that. She knew he'd felt uncomfortable all morning but he'd said nothing. And he'd just joked and mocked her as they seem to always be doing on this parchment now. It felt like a small private world where old enemies could be something else. What exactly she had no idea, they were not friends that was a certainty, they weren't even acquaintances. Well, it didn't need a name, it was there, and it was disturbingly freeing.

"What's so funny?" Lavender was looking at her from a huge file, her eyes a little suspicious. "Are you wining again?"

"Not exactly." Lavender didn't say anything in front of Neville, who seemed so absorbed by his document that he apparently hadn't noticed Hermione's smile. She wiped it off her face and wrote:

- Happy to see you've learned a new word. Kingsley's going to Gringott's to negotiate the documents himself, since we don't have a proper motive to require them.

- Right, maybe he should ask for all business transactions that involve more than a hundred galleons? This way it would avoid revealing our suspicions, you could always eliminate all documents from other accounts. The Goblins might be more willing to give away secrets if they don't really know who is concerned. Also if they believe you don't either.

Shit the git was smart. She sent a new note to Kingsley right away. Fortunately he had others things to attend to before going there. She looked down at her current file and sighed. There was nothing there, nothing that linked Applebea or Greengrass to Parkinson. Maybe there was none after all. Maybe they'd been really careful. Of course they'd be! They managed to avoid Azbakan by seeming crystal clear. There wasn't any location under Applebea's name. None. Where could they be? Hermione tried to put her brain on racing mode. Greengrasses had used the mother's birth name to cover for any attempt to set foot in Malfoy's business. Parkinson's were nowhere on any of these files, however they were being watched, their estates had been minutely scanned after the war. Those two families appeared completely devoid of anything incriminating. They were smart. She'd need to be smarter. They'd play with names, which was clever. Maybe Applebea wasn't the only cover name they'd used.

- You're irritating. Did you know that? Look, I can't find anything here that links Applebea or Greengrass to Parkinson, I didn't find anything linking Parkinson to Malfoy either, maybe I'd be luckier with Black? Plus if they'd been careful enough to use Applebea, I think Parkinson wouldn't use their name either, do you happen to know Pansy's mother birth name?

His answer was quick.

- Flint. Surprised you didn't know that. You're quite irritating yourself. Give me an hour to check.

Flint? Oh she'd seen that name somewhere, it had given her a gag thinking about Marcus. She looked through the files she'd discarded to the side and told Lavender and Neville to check for Flint as well.

It took Malfoy about thirty minutes to write again:

- Seven boutiques, all more or less in potion selling business, are under my mother's name. Several shares were acquired (again not enough for anyone to take over any of them). They were anonymously bought. My mother had just wanted to relay the work after the war. She has no idea who bought those, Gringott's is our best solution.

"Okay we're looking for anything that would link a Flint to Narcissa Black, not Malfoy. And anything from Flint to Applebea. We need to prove Parkinson's involvement."

"Oh you think all of them used the women's birth names? To cover their tracks?" Asked Neville.

"I think so, Malfoy does too. And this may be why we didn't find anything on Parkinson nor on Greengrass after the war, their names never appear anywhere. At all. And since the women have never been suspected … I'm sure that's how they were cleared."

"Shit, we're going to spend the night here!" Exclaimed Lavender. "Can't I send someone else in? I'm going to loose an eye if I keep reading!"

"Well the others are useless with papers Lavender, but if Neville …"

"It'll be all right just the two of us Hermione, let her go to Harry she can't take staying here …"

"Please Hermione, I really don't want to miss on another mission …"

"Right. Just go."

One person less to read through these files. Brilliant she thought.

An hour later Hermione was starting to pull at her hair in frustration. She'd seen Flint. She'd seen that name.

"THERE!" Neville yelled, shoving a file to her. There, Mrs Appleabea had acquired shares from a potion making store located near the border under Black's name, only to sell them two days after to a certain miss Flint. This! It was this! They were connected! Sharing business. Of course, the Parkinsons were ruined! They needed the money from Greegrass to help Lestrange built whatever those bastards thought they were going to achieve. They'd been right. Now they needed to find a location that involved the two of them again.

"We were right, we were fucking right! Parkisons! Hiding business and shit under miss Clarissa Flint's name, who's she?"

"Dunno …" Neville shrugged. Malfoy would know.

- Clarissa Flint rings a bell?

- Pansy's mum's cousin. I take it you found that connection?

- I sure did. Applebea bought shares from your mother's branches, sold it two days after to Flint.

- Right so those atrocious bitches have been trying to steel money from me since the war. Enough of a motive for your office? Maybe interrogation?

Was he mad?

- And let them know we're on to them? No way, I'll keep digging, Gringott's files will provide the dates of every transaction, thus reducing the possible places I need to check on here, and I will find the location.

Draco had almost forgotten he'd been talking with Granger. She would find the location. Or at least it was what she said. So much trust and determination that he was reminded as if slapped on the cheek that she was the Gryffindor Golden Girl. He'd been wronging himself by thinking of Gringott's and hiding their suspicions before she did. How had he even believed for a second he could outdo her? Brightest sodding witch of their age. Of course Parkinson used Flint's name somehow, of course it wouldn't be his estate directly targeted but his mother's. Of course they had to wait for Kingsley's return from Gringott's and of course she'd find the bloody location. Yet again she'd completely recovered. Gone was her bitter and given up confession from the night before. He had underestimated her. Never presume anything about a Gryffindor eh? Well, Gryffindorly speaking this was expected.

- Here, all Gryffindor again. I'd say good job but this is you I'm talking to ... I have a certain reputation to maintain. Maybe a: bloody well go back to work instead of rambling here, would be more appropriate?

- Was that a disguised compliment Malfoy? Are you going soft or finally realising you can't outdo me? Who's under who now?

Shit she was witty.

- None of the above. And to take your own words Granger, as much as you'd like to be under, or over me for that matter, this is not happening.

Had he forgotten something?

- Well, that is vomit-inducing. I had to swallow back bile.

Right, he'd forgotten that answer. Couldn't this parchment just record this sort of things?

- BITCH.

Calling her that was almost admitting he'd lost, he scowled at himself.

- DOG?

Great, this animal calling was just becoming ridiculous. It'd just made him laugh like an idiot. Thank Salazar he was alone. At least he was loosing his mind privately. If laughing could actually be called loosing his mind. It shouldn't be, except perhaps when it was with Granger. Calling her names had never really made him laugh, it had made him sadistically satisfied but this was … foreign. They had so much history, bad history, that everything that had happened between them since they met again felt out of place. Afterwards only, though, when he overthought it, because in the moment it just felt … funny. And strangely freeing, like if there wasn't any resentment between them, like if their apologies had just been enough, as if she'd forgiven him for his wrongs. Well, at least on parchment. Which he folded neatly and tucked in his pocket.

His door opened and a quite dishevelled Potter entered cutting short his insane thoughts.

"Malfoy, we need your last advises before the first team goes out. Meeting room." And he stormed out.

Draco was definitely going soft. Being ordered around by Potter and laughing at jokes Granger made was not normal. Growling, he went to join Potter. He entered the meeting room to find a quite excited looking Brown, vividly speaking with Thomas, and Longbottom had apparently just arrived since he was opening notebooks on the table before seating. Potter and Shakelbolt were at the end of the table, looking over the scroll, their faces a bit too serious. Weasley was at Potter's right, unsurprisingly, and shot him, what he had to think was a death glare, but looked more like he was going to puke. The git was already red, it made Draco smirk. He sat as far away from them as he could, no way he would stain his robes with vomit from the slug-puking idiot. That thought almost made him chuckle. He decided not to look at them either. Granger entered the room a very long minute later and the mess started finally. His presence seemed to only infuriate the weasel which pleased Draco to no extent. Shakelbolt was reviewing details of the house they were raiding that night, and Draco lost himself in the older man's explanations for a moment.

"I think the best point of view would be from the forest's edge, but it's too exposed, the back will have to do." Draco intervened:

"If they work as they used to, there'll be at least two of them at the back of the house, they won't expose themselves on a visible house like this one, maybe the edge of the forest is safest."

"We have no certitude of that, and exposing ourselves could be dramatic Malfoy …"

"I'll disillusion them then." Cut Granger. "We're just there to check Kingsley we don't want to risk them attacking."

Weasley mumbled something under his breath but they ignored him.

"Right. Right. So edge of the forest, better point of view. Hominium revelio, I wonder if we could test the wards undetected."

"I could do that." Said Granger. "But I'm not on this one …"

"You have better things to do Hermione."

"I'll do it, I'm not as good as Mione but she taught me a few things, should be enough for now." Brown said, looking the more excited about the upcoming mission. She looked wild, Blaise would appreciate that.

"Right, tap the coin as soon as you've got something. Come back right away if it starts to move. We want to stay in the shadows, they mustn't know we're onto them." Again that coin bullshit. What did it bloody mean anyway?

"Well there'll probably be no one there Kingsley. Can't find something so easily, we're not that lucky." Sighed Brown. She looked pessimistic and excited at the same time. It was a strange combination.

"Way to live up to your Gryffindor values Brown. Well done with the optimism." Draco threw her mockingly. Brown made him a face but Weasley seemed to not appreciate the banter.

"And what do you know about Gryffindor values?" The git was red from shoulders to ears. It was quite the sight. Draco opened his mouth to answer but Granger jumped in.

"He was in school with us Ron, we all know houses' values. Kingsley if we're done I'd like to take the Gringott's files you gathered and get back to work."

"Right, here …" Her attempt to temper things didn't work though, and as much as it pleased Draco to see the redhead loose his temper, it was becoming to be irritating.

"I don't understand why he's here. He's not an auror, he shouldn't know our plans." Well, something new he didn't understand then. Potter rolled his eyes, at his best friend. Draco couldn't believe it, Potter insulting the PM, then actually somehow being on his side against his favourite weasel.

"Ron please …" He said.

"No! I'm right! How can we know he's not feeding us bullshit?" The redface yelped, gesticulating ridiculously. Draco almost laughed, shit he had to keep it together, he doubted they'd appreciate or take his side if he aggravated the situation.

"Ron that's enough, he actually landed us the documents how could he …" Tried Potter.

"Right! It could just be a trap! For all we know he's feeding information to his death eater family!"

"RON!"

That was the drop. Draco wasn't about to let the idiot insult him. His family was composed of his mother and she was even more under threat than anyone else. He stood.

"Fuck you Weasley. You shut your big mouth or I'll make you."

"What? Is the truth hurting you Malfoy?"

"I don't have to prove myself to you redface, I don't even know how you became a bloody auror but if you can't tell who's on your side, then maybe you should have stayed in that hole you call a house."

"Shut up about my house!"

"What? Does the truth hurt you ginger?"

"At least I'm not a death eater! I was never on Voldemort's side, ferret." His face was so full of hatred, Draco wanted to punch it right off his big nose. Throwing his past choices at his face was just unfair and uncalled for.

"RON!" Granger looked so pissed at her friend that everyone shut up in the room. Even a bit of Draco's urge to hit the bastard flew away. Her hands were probed on her hips and that was a death glare. Then she half-hissed, half-screamed.

"You are going to apologize Ronald Billius Weasley! Malfoy's only been helpful right from the start of all this and I don't care that you can't get over your little childish grudge. WE ARE NOT CHILDREN ANY MORE! I won't bear with your idiotic …"

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?!" Weasley had cut her. He was signing his death certificate. While he looked at Draco she was rounding the table to face him, and even Shakelbolt cowered a bit. Draco looked at the idiot and as an old reflex he smirked to the git. This was not the most mature move of all, but it was so fucking blissful to watch his face discompose. It didn't stop the redhead though since he kept going at Draco:

"See?! He's not fucking changed! What did he do to you?"

"He's done nothing! I'm …"

"You're on his bloody side! What did he do? Seduce you? Who are you?" She reached him and it went all berserk. She started to poke him while yelling, looking way more familiar to Draco, despite her now almost blond hair.

"AND WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

"I don't know you tell me! You've been suddenly all willing to go to his bloody house …"

"Oh my god! This is insane!"

"No what is insane is you talking to him on that bloody parchment and taking his side like …"

"WHAT are you implying exactly Ronald?"

"I don't know! You're acting like he's …"

"Like WHAT?"

"Like you're a bloody SLUT!" Wow that was uncalled for and so disrespectful Draco felt his fists clench in fuming anger, the git was out of line. But he didn't get time to say anything because she slapped him. Hard. His face was a hard shade of purple now. Well deserved hit! At least she still defended herself. The memory of his own punishment in third year made him cringe, it must have hurt much more now. Brown grabbed him by the elbow, as everyone left the room. Draco was so on edge that he shoved her aside and was ready to actually defend the bookworm's honour:

"YOU show her some respect you bloody bastard!" He spat to the redhead, whom started pointing his finger at him and Granger successively.

"WHAT? SEE? I KNEW IT! YOU BLOODY TRAITOROUS BITCH!" He barked.

"Expelliarmus!" Of course Potter would take that precaution. She'd been ready to hex him. Having no other choice she slapped him again full force. The sound of her hand hitting his cheek hard still resounded, that Brown grabbed him again. But this time Thomas was on his other side, and he had no choice but to follow. Even Shakelbolt got out of the room. Draco just didn't understand the lot of them and fumed:

"You're going to just leave them alone in there?!"

"We're useless, it's training all over again …" Said Brown.

"Shit, I thought they were over that …" Added Thomas.

"Well Mione is. Ron's just been on edge … His father and brothers are in Azkaban right now …" Justified Longbottom. Like any of this treatment could be justified.

"It's no bloody excuse to insult her!" Angrily cut Draco.

"And since when are you taking her defence?" Asked Shakelbolt. "I remember you, not only a few days ago, pestering around about doing the bookworm bint's job!" He was right. But it was before everything they'd told each other. And maybe he'd over-reacted a bit at the insult but … yes since when did he defend her honour? What did he care? Maybe he cared now … He answered Kingsley only when he felt more like himself again, even if he had no idea why in hell he would take her defence.

"I gave her my word to be civil and she's done the same. We need to work together and we're not bloody children any more!"

"I feel like we've said that so much over the past few days that it doesn't mean anything any more." Brown said. "He's right though, they gave their words, Mione told me, and not to take the blond's defence or anything but we've been working as if he was part of the team and it worked just fine …"

"I know. I know you're right, you're not children any more and he shouldn't insult her like that." Tempered Shakelbolt.

"Could someone give Potter a hand in there? I can still hear yelling …" No one seemed concerned about the Golden Trio, probably skinning each other alive, but him. Draco wondered why in hell they just waited outside instead of kicking the weasel's arse.

"No. Even hexing them won't work, trust me we tried." Said Thomas.

"What?"

"When we started training, they'd just broken up and it took a few of these rows to put things right. It's how they cope or … I don't know, but they'll be just fine."

"He just called her a slut and a bitch …" Hadn't Draco called her a bitch too? And just a few hours before. What an hypocrite he was. Well no! He'd been joking and she knew that! This was just …

"Yes well, I won't be surprised if she gives it back way worse." Answered Brown. Way worse?

"She really bought that book now didn't she?" Draco asked jokingly to Brown, actually calmed down a bit. If it was their insane way to stay friends then … It was none of his business. Brown chuckled.

"Course she did!" They were all leaning against the wall of the meeting room, waiting for the loud argument to end. This was … completely crazy. Had Draco really been angry at the weasel for insulting her? Apparently. But didn't the git know she wasn't all right? Didn't he know she had way too much honour to just be fooling around on the job with him? Him, that even if she'd been civil with, she probably hated still? Well, maybe not hate, she'd taken his defence, but at least resent? She didn't either, Draco could tell. She'd forgiven him, he thought, even if she hadn't voiced it. So what? She didn't like him for sure. What were they anyway? He had no idea. And actually he didn't care. As long as their little banters stayed on that parchment, he didn't see why he should question it, especially since it made him laugh. Brown had been right, they needed the bloody laugh. One found it where one could. As insane as it was.

"I think it's over." Said Brown.

"I'm not checking this time." Said Longbottom. Draco couldn't help but ask.

"Why?"

"I don't want to receive an ink pot again. It ruined my best robes." Draco chuckled at the idea and to his surprise, Brown and Thomas too. Shakelbolt looked a bit irritated.

"If you'd listened to me, it would never have happened Neville. I'm sick of this, Lavender …"

"Right." Brown went to open the door carefully.

"We're not together any more Ron, you can't question my loyalty over some stupid jealousy!" Said Granger.

"I know. I know, I'm sorry. Won't happen again." Mumbled Weasley. So it was over? With a sorry? Just like that? Draco cocked his head a bit to see inside. Brown was smiling and holding the door slightly ajar. Weasley opened his arms and from the corner of his eye, Draco saw Granger approaching to hug him. Potter was next to them, wand still lifted up, apparently ready to hex the living shit out of them. Draco felt his guts twist a bit but ignored it. How could she forgive him that easily? Right, she loved the git. He guessed he would forgive Blaise if he insulted him too. And also after quite a lot of throat gripping. Maybe this was not so weird after all, it was just friendship. A bit twisted by the fact they'd had a thing going on for some time. Yuk, this time he knew why his guts annoyed him.

"All right, of course a warning for the both of you." Said Shakelbolt, entering the room again. "Ron, Lavender, Dean, preparation now." The three named went out. Longbottom looked as relieved as Potter, while Granger still looked a bit on edge. Passing by him, Brown quietly said:

"Say hi to Blaise for me." Draco was so surprised he was left open-mouthed, while Shakelbolt took Potter and went out too.

"Shut your mouth Malfoy, you're going to attract flies." He did. Granger looked way too pleased with herself.

"Mind your own mouth you cow." He said. Longbottom looked like he might explode but deflated once he saw Granger smile. Now he was the one attracting flies.