3

It was a safe serial number.

It was the safe serial number.

Draco laughed low in his throat as he lay on his bed, covers spread in a tangled mess underneath him. The ink still remained on his palm – the instrument that kept the necklace from him imprinted on his skin. More important were its implications: the real question and challenge that Hermione was presenting for his consideration.

After some serious thought, Draco concluded that Hermione must have been testing the water to see what she could reel in. Neither of them could have foreseen their meeting in his coffee shop, or his fascination with her mind that had caused him to… pursue? (Who was pursuing whom, really?) Regardless, she had recognized something in him. Perhaps his voice, or his eyes, though they were partially obscured by his disguise… or was this a test of Draco Malfoy, not the Dragon?

Draco paused in his musings and sat up. It could be a shot in the dark, an improbable coincidence that Hermione had seized upon with her brilliant mind. Or, it was a challenge for Draco Malfoy to see how good of a detective he was.

Either way, Draco was going to have to choose what hand to play.

Glancing at the inked hand and the clean one, Draco wondered if he would take the bait.

…

He had no time for heists or flirtation that evening, though in a way his attendance at the gala was both. A midwinter ball held by the same charity, the necklace on display for all to see – and only 3 days before the auction on Christmas eve. Draco dressed in wine-red shirt, grey suit jacket and waistcoat, and black slacks, as handsome as ever… though he somewhat regretted not being able to wear his crown to the event.

Sweeping into the ballroom with the air of a wealthy Victorian matriarch, Draco sailed past the coat check and refreshments (pausing briefly to swipe some champagne) to view his intended prize once more. He hadn't seen it for nearly a week, after all.

It was as glorious as he remembered. Fingers tightening unconsciously around the stem of his champagne glass, gaze fixed greedily upon the prize, Draco nearly missed a light sound – a throat clearing, coming from a bit further down the velvet barrier between Draco and his necklace.

"Feeling a kinship?" came the dry voice, and Draco felt a smile twitch to his lips as he spotted Hermione, standing in an emerald green dress that rivaled the gem in the snake's mouth for colour.

"Well, we both look rather dashing, don't you think?" Draco replied, raising his champagne glass to Hermione. "On guard duty or just enjoying the sights?"

Her eyes flicked to the snake, then back to Draco.

"I know I am," Draco continued, though his eyes remained intent on Hermione, "It's very tempting. I could almost reach out and steal it away…"

That was dangerous ground, and something sparked in Hermione's eyes, something that made her step a little closer. Draco gave a wolfish grin and bowed to her, extending a hand and saying, "To that end… may I have this dance?"

Hermione made a little noise at that, pausing in her advance, and Draco felt rather proud of himself for rendering her speechless. They both looked back at the necklace at the same time, though perhaps for different reasons… though wouldn't it be amusing if a detective trying to protect the necklace coveted that very item? Draco rather liked the idea, and it turned his gaze even darker with pleasure.

She took his hand, and Draco's smile turned up a few notches. Hermione didn't blink, though, merely replied, "You're going to have to be far better than I think you are for you to steal anything around here," challenge clear in her tone.

Draco guided her to the dance floor with grace, pressing his hand into the small of her back with possessive pride before purring, "I won't disappoint," and leading them off into the first steps of the dance.

…

As they danced, Hermione did her absolute best to lead Draco into a trap.

"Did you answer my riddle, yet?" She asked coyly as Draco spun her with practiced grace, hand sliding into his as her words caressed his consciousness. Draco had prepared for this, however, and since he was feeling like a risk, he looked down at the curly-haired woman with a small smile.

"I did some research," Draco replied, noting that her lips quirked at the word 'research' and resisting a fond chuckle. "And it's either a telephone number for a consulate in South Korea…" Hermione's expression stilled into one of mild disappointment, but Draco continued. "Or… it's a serial number. "

Her head lifted, and Draco resisted the urge to pump his fist in victory. He executed a graceful lift instead, bringing Hermione into the air before returning her lightly to the ground.

"Oh?" she said politely, but Draco had been raised around high society mamas who said one thing and meant another, and could sense the excitement on her tongue. He leaned in closer, swaying them to the music, wanting to taste that excitement but settling for murmuring, "Yes, the serial number for a particular safe, which seems rather obvious, given your line of work. Are you getting me to do your work for you, love?"

Hermione laughed, a low and throaty sound that made pleasant traces up and down Draco's spine. "Well done," she replied, dodging the question. "And do you know why that specific safe is of interest?"

Flirting a dangerous line, Draco danced the two of them closer to the necklace, and bent Hermione back into a dip, following the line of her extended neck and musing that she would look lovely with the diamond snake coiled about her throat. Her eyes went to the necklace as well, and when he returned her to his embrace, her cheeks were flushed with pleasure.

"Always a surprise," Hermione murmured, though she didn't mean it at all.

…

It was Draco who posed the next question, once the two of them returned to Hermione's post. She had insisted that she was here to work, though Draco rather thought that work clothes those were not… but he acquiesced, happy to spend time near the things he coveted the most at this moment.

"So," he drawled, taking a sip of more champagne and savouring it before he started to dance a dangerous line, "How does a gorgeous individual such as yourself protect … that from potential thieves?"

Hermione, who had refused the champagne (though her cheeks were lit with flags of red, regardless), tilted her head at a dangerous angle, eyes sparking with interest. "I out-think them all," she drawled in reply, looking at Draco through veiled eyelashes as she rolled her neck and returned to her normal upright posture. The movement was languorous, deceptively so – Draco could see the sudden tightness in her shoulders, hardening of her gaze. He grinned, not bothering to hide it. There was a rush of adrenaline rolling through his veins, making him want to take their 'dance' to the next level.

"How can you out-think a thief if you've never stolen anything?" Draco wondered, still smiling, until Hermione's ducking head caught his gaze, a shark-like grin spreading across her features. "Oh, you have," he remarked, delighted, stepping in close. "What a bad cop." His intonation was low and inviting, practically a purr, though it was slightly cut off by Hermione tossing her magnificent mane of hair and stomping one foot, sending waves of cinnamon and spice into his nose and an amused arch to his eyebrow.

"I haven't stolen anything," she objected, eyes rather less amused than his. "I'm just far more capable at covering all the angles than your average cat burglar."

Ah, he had her now. Pride goeth before a fall… Draco resisted the urge to crow in glee and stepped even closer, though she didn't stop him – just drew herself up to her full height and crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow raised to unfathomable loftiness. "If you're so good," he challenged, "Then show me."

The eyebrow didn't move. Draco read that as an invitation for him to elaborate, and spiked his final question onto the court. Now things would really get interesting. "Tell me how you would steal… that."

Hermione's eyes followed his tilted head towards the necklace, riveting on the massive emerald in the snake's maw. And Draco could have sworn, that in that moment, there was a smile on her face that exactly mirrored the snake's.

"Come home with me," Hermione stated – not a demand, but not a request, either – "And I'll tell you everything."

How could Draco resist?

…

Section in the Classifieds of The Telegraph, sent the morning of December 22:

Dragon,

Caught you.

…

A/N:

Annddd… cue dramatic music!

Yes, yes, I'm a terrible updater. I know. I have been rather distracted as of late! That being said, there are only a couple more chapters in this before it wraps up, and the next few should be pretty action-packed. I'll try to continue to amuse!

Best,

Isefyr