Hermione was aware of the feeling of déjà vu before she even opened her eyes. However, barely had her hand slid over the empty half of the bed next to her than she heard a thump, and swearing coming from the shadows of the wardrobe in the corner.

"What now?" she groaned, her eyes protesting grittily as she tried to focus on whatever it was Ron was up to. However, before he could answer, the room was illuminated for a second, Ron's face showing pale and stark in the white light, followed seconds later by the rending crack of thunder.

"It's Crookshanks," Ron admitted, "he was yowling at the door earlier, so I let him out."

Hermione looked at the raindrops pelting the window pane almost horizontally, her forehead creased with worry. Crookshanks was a frequent night wanderer, but he was quite elderly now and would probably be terrified by the storm. She jumped out of bed and started throwing clothes on haphazardly, only a few steps behind Ron as he launched himself down the stairs two at a time.

His hand was on the door handle before she shouted, "Wait!" He turned to her, looking puzzled. "You were really going to go out into the storm to rescue Crookshanks? On your own? But you can't stand him."

Ron's cheeks pinked, "Yeah but you love him, so…." He trailed off with a shrug.

Hermione hugged him quickly, whispering a thank you into his ear. There would be time for more gratitude later, when they were back in the safe and warm and dry.

The fat drops of rain pelted her with such stinging ferocity that it took her breath away for a moment. Cursing her own stupidity at failing to cast an Impervious charm before they had both got soaked to the skin, she attempted one now but struggled against the howling wind.

"I reckon that's a bit better!" Ron shouted over the din but he didn't look convinced, his hair plastered to his face and water dripping into his eyes.

Quickly they both searched the bushes and greenhouse around the back garden, calling Crookshanks' name futilely. Hermione was racking her brains as to what spell she could use to locate him and if possible bring him to her without risking him any harm. If only there was a Felinum Revelio spell! She didn't dare attempt an Accio in case he was trapped somewhere and trying to move him caused him harm. A whimper of despair escaped her lips as she snagged her sleeve trying to push back the prickly branches of a holly bush. On hearing Ron's yell from over the small fence that marked the end of their garden she wrenched herself free and ran over to him.

A ditch in the wasteland just beyond their garden had filled with rainwater which was flowing fast towards the darkly gaping maw of a nearby storm drain. Crookshanks was perched precariously on a large branch that had got wedged in the stream, his eyes standing out lividly from his bedraggled face as he mewed as pitifully as a kitten.

Hermione attempted to scramble down the steep bank to get to him, her feet struggling to gain purchase in the mud. Her breath left her body all at once as her bottom hit the slippery ground but with a keeper's lightening reflexes, Ron reached out and grabbed her arm before she was lost to the water. His face set in grim determination, he pulled her back up onto the scrubby grass that bordered the ditch.

"Nice catch!" she gasped as she scrambled to her feet.

"Yeah, don't try that again, I think we're wet enough already without a swim in there."

Another lightening flash, another crack of thunder, almost on top of it. They were in the eye of the storm. Crookshanks' cry became a shriek, rising over the baying wind.

"Shhh baby, shhh," Hermione almost sobbed, raising her hands to pacify the terrified creature "We're going to get you out. I don't know what to do. If I try any magic, he's so scared he could panic and end up in the water!"

A groaning shriek filled the air and for a moment Hermione thought the swooping movement above them was a Dementor before she realised the truth and dragged Ron away from the hornbeam sapling that couldn't withstand the wind's relentless pressure any longer, coming down and hitting the ground where they had just been standing with a splintering crash.

"Nice catch to you," he countered, "Well whatever we're going to do, we'd better do it quickly, it's not safe out here."

The fallen hornbeam had given Hermione an idea. "Wingardium Leviosa!" She guided the floating tree across the flow of the river to form a bridge. Suddenly a gust of wind sent it sailing to the side, knocking into the branch that Crookshanks was clinging to. He scrabbled frantically with his claws as the bough waved dangerously. Hermione grasped her wand with both hands as she tried with all her might to control the makeshift bridge. Feeling the load become a little easier, she became aware that Ron had added his magic to help steer the piece of wood into place. Once she was satisfied it was settled firmly, she called to Crookshanks gently, trying to coax him to jump down from his perch and climb across but the disturbance seemed to have paralysed him with fear. Her teeth gritted with frustration and terror, Hermione first tried another Impervious on the water below the sapling and then when that failed, to turn it to ice, but there was too much water and it was moving too fast for her to be able to keep any kind of control over it.

"He needs to see it's safe," Ron muttered, "He's too scared to do it on his own. He needs something to guide him across. Something like…"

"A patronus." Hermione finished, leaden despair landing heavily in her gut.

"Listen, I don't reckon I know what's gone wrong with your patronus but I know there's something. Knew it as soon as you asked about it before. Truth is mine isn't great either, not sure why, thought it was maybe one too many bludgers to the head" he attempted a joke as he pushed the sodden hair out of his face, "but what if we try that joint magic thing?"

Hermione nodded, knowing this was her best hope to rescue her beloved pet before one of them came to harm. She reached out and grabbed Ron's hand, still unsure of exactly how the joint magic worked but wanting the comfort of his presence anyway. Forcing herself to relax, she closed her eyes, concentrating on the connection between them, trying to will away the flutters of panic that what if this didn't work, and they made the situation worse, not to mention her magic obviously being broken and –

"Breathe," whispered Ron, his breath warm at her ear. She tried to think of her happiest memories, flicking through and discarding ones that had been tainted by her heartbreak. Then she felt it. The giddy laughter when Ron had spun her around, dancing at their wedding. The feeling of wonderment when they had first kissed again at their betrothal. Watching him sleep. It all flooded through her like lava, sweet and golden as caramel. In unison, they shouted, "Expecto Patronum" and she sensed it before she even dared to open her eyes, saw the bright silver light through her closed eyelids.

Joyfully, the otter and the terrier bounded and gamboled around each other, old friends reunited after too long. She heard Ron exhale shakily and squeezed his hand in response, still feeling the sparks of connection flowing between them.

Gently she nudged the otter patronus onto the spindly tree where it walked deftly across, the small silver Jack Russell at its heels. The spectral pair both greeted Crookshanks, leaping from the bridge to the branch where he stayed transfixed and back again. Hermione watched as Crookshanks' ears relaxed a fraction from their flattened back position and he reached out a tentative paw onto the bark of the hornbeam.

After what felt like an eternity he edged down the branch a few inches, his tail lashing from side to side in fury, but if he had been planning on taking longer to decide whether it was safe to proceed, the decision was snatched from him when the rising waters dislodged the branch he was clinging to. He just managed to make the leap onto the trunk, which held firm across the river whilst his former place of safety sailed away.

Now he had his paws on slightly more solid footing, there was no stopping him. He shot across the bridge and streaked across the lawn at a pace that belied his advanced years. Only as the blur of ginger fur barrelled past her legs towards the open back door, did Hermione let go of Ron's hand and risk looking at him.

"We did it!" she laughed, breathless and dizzy with relief.

"You were bloody marvellous!"

"It was your idea!"

"There you go again with that tone of surprise" But he was smiling as he said it, smiling down at her as he stepped closer. Smiling against her lips as he kissed her. And she could still feel it. The honeyed flow of magic between them.

The two of them stood, oblivious to the rain, united as one, whilst a ghostly otter and dog chased each other around their heels.

It was only when she got a vague awareness that rain wasn't lashing down on her anymore that Hermione even realised they were inside. They sure as heck hadn't apparated there – neither of them had even broken the kiss let alone raised their wand. The thrumming of power through her veins, the golden threads that she could feel connecting her to Ron, that was what had done it, she was sure. Ron pulled back for a moment and grunted a bemused, "huh" as he took in their surroundings, but before she could even ask him about it, his hands were back in her hair, pulling her mouth back on to his with desperate ferocity. Her breath came in a sharp intake when the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and she yanked Ron's sodden jumper over his head whilst trying to maintain the kiss. They tussled frantically with the remainder of their clothes, too desperate for skin to touch skin to co-ordinate their efforts. Hermione's heart was beating hard in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her as Ron dragged hot kisses down the skin of her neck and chest. Then although neither of them uttered a word or raised their wands, Hermione felt the electric prickle tingle over her skin and their clothes were just gone. Ron laughed gently against her lips, "I could get used to this sympathetic magic."

Icy cold fingers skimmed rain dampened shoulders and stroked goosebumps onto chilly forearms. They were both shaking. Frigid water was dripping down Hermione's back from her soaked curls and yet she didn't feel the cold at all, warmed instead from within by the golden rivulets of magic that vibrated between them and sparked from their fingertips on contact, causing bursts of pleasure that were so intense they were almost ticklish. She tried for a moment to concentrate on the sensation, to wonder at the fact that she could literally feel the fluid magic streaming through every nerve ending in her body at the same time. Her synapses felt incandescent and she wondered if the trails that Ron's hands were leaving over her body were lit up as brightly as she imagined. But then he started kissing the sensitive skin from behind her ear down to her collarbone so with such aching deliciousness that her rational thoughts were lost in the pleasurable clench of her core. She whispered his name against his cheek, the syllable dripping from her lips like an incantation, and the responding moan it drew from him gave her body the answer that it wanted. His hand slipped between her legs and found her wet and throbbing for him, her back arching to bring the parts that needed his attention so desperately closer to his deft fingers. With a momentary jolt back to reality she realised with gratitude that they were lying down, because her legs were trembling so hard they would have been unable to hold her, although she wasn't sure how it had occurred. The coil of delectable tension wound tighter than she had ever felt before as he stroked between her pleasure soaked folds, taking her to heights that she hadn't even imagined possible. Her hand closed around the velvety hardness of his cock and she revelled in the gasp it elicited from him as he rutted against her palm.

The trickle of golden magic had become a torrent, until it felt like she was being carried away by it, drowning in the mindless bliss that was pouring over her in waves. Their bodies moved together, like flotsam clinging together in the eddies and flows of the ocean of desire that was buffeting them both along to their inevitable destination. Ron moved between her legs and she gazed up at him as he entered her, watching the glittering flare ripple over their sweat sheened skin when their bodies joined in the most essential way. As his cock sheathed deeply into her, the fullness was enough to send her over the edge - sailing, flying, tumbling into an abyss so deep that her senses were left behind and for a moment she was pure feeling - blind and deaf, unable even to cry out. She was aware of Ron thrusting against the contractions of her inner walls and she was barely returning to the reality of her body from the ecstasy she had visited when she felt him pulsing into her, his damp head collapsing onto her shoulder with a stuttering groan. As they regained their breath and disentangled their shaking limbs, the magic flickered and faded - the roaring tiger shrinking to a purring cat, the unstoppable flow of molten lava now just the warmth of a candle.

"That was..." Ron panted.

"I know," Hermione grinned shakily.

Neither of them felt the need to speak any more, instead enjoying the retreating vibrations of pleasure that had left them both exhausted. By the time Hermione finally trusted her voice to speak, the rumbling, rhythmic breath near her ear let her know that there was no need to do so. Weakly she reached down and pulled the blanket over them both, too exhausted to even disentwine their legs. Her eyes felt heavy and she was sure she wouldn't be able to get vertical even if she had wanted to - she hadn't even been this tired after Ginny had made her go to a spinning class. She slipped easily into the silken darkness of a dreamless sleep, a smile still playing over her lips.

-oOoOoOo-

Hermione looked up in surprise to see Mafalda Hopkirk opening the door of her office. She had been working for her for several months now but the older witch rarely popped in for unscheduled chats, preferring to keep their interactions to their regular meetings.

"Mafalda?" She asked warily, although she soon relaxed in response to her boss' welcoming smile. Hermione noticed that the thick file of papers she was carrying was none other than the report she had prepared for departmental distribution last week.

"I've just read your report Hermione, very impressive I must say."

Hermione felt her cheeks heating with pride as she nodded in response to the Minister's praise.

"You've really sealed up those woolly clauses about deadlines for producing evidence in criminal cases, the wording is absolutely water tight."

"Well yes, I had paid special attention to…"

Mafalda carried on talking as though she hadn't heard Hermione, "It's not just me that's noticed either. It was noted at the Heads of Department meeting this morning. Keep it up!" she finished briskly, tapping the report in her hand to emphasise the point before she swept from the room.

"Thank you!" Hermione called dazedly in her wake, barely noticing the paper aeroplane that slipped through the closing door until it skidded to a halt in front of her.

She unfolded the paper, recognising Harry's cramped handwriting immediately. Honestly, his penmanship hadn't improved since he was eleven years old, she realised fondly.

Please can you come to my office, I've got a bit of a situation...

Trying not to roll her eyes in a manner that Ron had told her on numerous occasions during the death of their relationship was particularly unattractive, she pushed her chair back and headed to Harry's office.

She could feel the buzz of the Muffliato that surrounded Harry's office straining to cover what must have been raised voices within, however a quick glance at the lowered heads at desks nearby told her that either she was the only one that noticed or Harry's staff were just exceptionally discreet. She knocked gently, then stepped inside, pausing only momentarily in surprise at the scene inside the office before she pulled the door closed behind her.

"What's she doing here?" Draco sneered, from his position in Harry's seat, his feet up on Harry's desk.

"I called her to come and talk some sense into you because she vouched for you but you're being such an idiotic arse that I'm sorely tempted to arrest you right now!"

Draco visibly bristled, "Typical jumped up Auror, what for?"

Harry paused in his running his hands through his hair, leaving it sticking wildly in all directions "Arsery!" he shouted at the now smirking blond.

Hermione folded her arms over her chest, readying herself to play the part of referee that Harry had obviously called her to be, "Where am I? Because it said Head Auror's office on the door but it seems like I'm in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, looking at a couple of children! Do I look like McGonagall!?"

Draco sat up animatedly but Harry cut him off with a muttered, "Don't answer that."

"I wasn't going to –"

"Whatever you were going to, don't. Trust me."

Draco uttered something under his breath too softly for Hermione to hear although by the soft growl that emanated from Harry, it had obviously reached his ears. Glancing around the office, she noticed the photos that Malfoy had sent her fanned over the desk, along with an almost blank pinboard on the wall that Hermione was satisfied to see did at least have a picture of Umbridge in addition to the two suspects.

She pointed at Harry, "You, he's here of his own free will so he's obviously willing to help you if you just dial down on all the interrogation tactics. And you, don't even start on all that "Pottah!" nonsense, he's the Head of the Auror department, not a schoolboy snooping through your things."

Harry's muffled snort confirmed that she had done a passable impression of a teenaged Malfoy.

"Granger," Draco's tone was bored but his eyes were dancing with the effort of restraining his smile into a mere smirk, "Always a pleasure never a..oh wait, did I get that muddled up? Flattered as I am that Harry needed back up to have a conversation with me, I think my time here is, regrettably, over." He started to stand but Hermione cast her hand forward and actually pushed him back into the chair with wandless magic, such was her frustration. He at least had the decency to look impressed.

"Oh no you don't! Harry's right, I did tell him he could trust you and you know how much I hate not being right so you are going to sit right back down there and tell him what you know or so help me Malfoy…."

"You're getting that adorable flustered look about you - look, your cheeks are going all red!"

"He's joking!" Hermione called out to Harry who was (she hoped) pretending to retch, "Don't try and deflect like that. You can trust Harry. I know he's probably the last person you ever want to talk to but you can, you know. He'll understand." She reached over and touched his forearm gently, where his dark mark had been.

Draco swallowed deeply, his eyes serious at last as they met hers before he nodded grudgingly. He placed his hands on the arms of the leather chair and pushed himself out, picking up the photos and taking them over to Harry.

"It might sound weird," he started, before clearing his throat nervously, "it might sound weird…but I've got this scar…." He trailed off and looked at Hermione helplessly but Harry took the photos from his hand before she could speak.

"Not that weird to me. Go on."

And then Draco just told Harry the whole story. About how he had been forced to his knees in front of Voldemort, how he had watched his aunt's hand on his mother's shoulder, gripping tightly during the ceremony to put the dark mark on his arm. How his mother's eyes, shining with unshed tears had never left his face. About how sorry he was for what he tried to do to Dumbledore and how if he had been asked to do it now, as an adult he would have refused and died for his resistance but then all he could think about was protecting his mother from the horrors that could befall her while he was away at school. He told him about how his mother had cut the mark out of his arm and for years he had hoped rather than believed that was the end of it. But when those two strangers had walked past him he knew – he just knew – could feel the phantom skin in his forearm itching and pulling towards them in a sick memory of a summons from the Dark Lord. He told Harry how it had felt so real that he was scared to take his robes off that night in case somehow the mark had come back.

"And who do you think they are?" Harry asked softly, speaking for the first time since Draco had started his story. Draco looked up sharply, as though he had almost forgotten Harry was there.

"At first I thought the Lestranges, then I wasn't so sure. It's possible he recruited more followers that I wasn't privy to the knowledge of. I was hardly senior in the organisation."

"Could you ask your father?"

"No." the finality in his voice was so hard that Harry merely nodded in response, obviously sensing that this line of enquiry was not open to him.

"And where did you get these photos?"

Hermione leaned unconsciously towards Draco to hear his answer. She was as curious as Harry how Malfoy had come across them again and got close enough to take pictures.

"I went back to where I first saw them, in Knockturn Alley," he glanced sideways at Hermione, unsure whether to implicate her in the story, but obviously deciding to remain silent on the matter as he didn't mention her name, "they were coming out of an apothecary so I assumed that eventually they would have to return for more ingredients. I was surprised they came back so quickly though, I had only been waiting for a few days. While they were distracted coming out of the shop I managed to throw a trace onto them –"

"What did you use?" asked Harry, too impressed to pretend to look otherwise.

Draco's expression didn't falter from bored neutrality but Hermione took the faint spots of colour that came to his cheeks as a sign of pleasure, "Avenseguim. I put it on a piece of Droobles Best Blowing Gum on the pavement and the bigger one stepped right on it. Then when they apparated away I was able to track them to a hideout in Muggle London. Somewhere called Wands-worth, ironically. I followed them there and that's when they met Umbridge, in a little play park just outside. Unfortunately after that I lost them. I've been staking out their hideout when I can but unfortunately I've got other projects at a critical stage –" at this he waggled his eyebrows significantly at Hermione, "- anyway I haven't seen them again."

If Harry noticed Draco's unspoken aside to Hermione, he was too distracted by the story Draco had imparted to him to say anything. Instead, he was pulling out a map of London and asking Draco to mark on it exactly where the hideout was. As Malfoy bent over the desk, Hermione saw Harry slip to a cabinet and remove his pensieve and several glass phials. Sure that Draco would be unhappy with imparting his memories to Potter of all people, but confident that after some grumbling he would comply, she decided it was time for her to make her escape.

"I don't think you need me any more, so I'll just get back to my real job shall I?"

Harry halfheartedly waved a thank you over his shoulder.

Just as she was heading out the door she returned, "Oh and Harry, I'm recharging my time for this meeting to your department."

It felt like she had barely sat down and inked her quill before Malfoy sauntered in without so much as knocking. She eyed him levelly as he sat down in the chair opposite her. For a moment they just stared at each other in silence before he finally gave in.

"Well?" he asked indignantly.

"Well what?"

He sighed and threw his hands up in mock outrage, "Well aren't you going to ask me?"

Hermione couldn't help grinning, "Go on then, tell me!"

"Oh well, if you're not interested…."

Now it was Hermione's turn to huff in exasperation, "What do you want me to say? Please Malfoy, please tell me the latest news about the potion. Only if I don't finish writing this parchment before –"

"It's bloody worked!" he exclaimed gleefully, unable to hold his excitement in any longer, "I added the gold and it worked! Now it's stable enough that I've been able to put a stasis charm on it until I can get hold of a dragon's tear, although goodness knows when that will be, I've been trying for months and no dice. What's the wizarding world come to, a chap like me can't get hold of something as simple as…"

He continued grousing while Hermione reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a small glass bottle. Wordlessly she handed it over, the pearlescent liquid inside catching the light as she did so. Draco's mouth dropped open as he looked between her face and her outstretched hand.

"I wrote to Charlie a few weeks ago, he smuggled one over to me inside a basket of Romanian sweets."

"But I thought we'd agreed we wouldn't even try to get one until we'd got this step right?"

"Says the man who just admitted he'd been trying to get hold of one for ages! Besides, I knew you'd do it," she admitted warmly.

"Oh you brilliant…you absolutely magnificent witch….I take back everything bad I've ever said about you. Honestly I could kiss you!" then he collected himself, adopting his usual lazy smirk, "I'd better not though, eh?"

"Perhaps not," Hermione agreed. She could practically see him shifting in his chair, the appeal a few more minutes of flirting battling in his mind with his desire to go home and complete the final stage of the potion, and decided to make the decision for him, "Go on, get out of here, we've both got work to do!"

He nodded decisively and jumped out of his chair, striding quickly to the door, only to skid to a halt to run back behind her desk. He kissed her once, hard, on the cheek and then left the office without looking back.