The classical music fluttered out through the open windows and onto the sidewalk. It was a mostly quiet neighborhood and Hermione made sure no one would be bothered by their music. The windows lay open, sun beaming in through them. She sat on a chair, a painted canvas in front of her. Her brown hair was up in a messy bun, loose strands here and there. She wore a beige button down shirt and slim jeans, both of which were covered in splashes of paint. She wore no shoes, preferring to be barefoot around the home. Darling Adeline looked like an exact copy of her mother, save for the blonde hair and silver eyes. She wore the same outfit in her size. Hermione looked over at her and grinned as the child wiped fake sweat from her brow, smearing paint on her face in the process. She knew she too had a smidge of paint on her right cheek. There was little difference between the two except that while the woman painted with brushes, Addie preferred the tools at the end of her hands. "Hmm….something's missing from this painting, don't you think, Elizabeth?"

The child giggled. "Nooooo, Mama, it's Addie!" She jumped up from her seat to stand by her mother and scrutinize the painting with critical eyes. She tilted her head and Hermione waited patiently. She knew she would catch on. A moment later, Addie gasped and looked up at her mother. "I know! You should add grey, like daddy's eyes. Right there." Hermione tilted her head to look at the painting as her daughter saw it.

They always painted on Sundays and most of the time, they didn't take it so seriously. It was a creative outlet for both of them. One that Hermione was glad interested her mini me. Hermione looked down at her palette of colors and chose the closest gray she could find. Which, to be honest, wasn't very close. His eyes were distinct. The very best thing about him were his eyes. No color on earth could match them. Now, Hermione was not in love with Elizabeth Adeline's father. She shuddered at just the thought. He was handsome and things had changed between them in the years since the war and her relocation. She wasn't blind. His eyes were wonderful to look at. "Finished. What about you, Love?" The child in question grinned at the new addition of color to her mother's canvas before returning to her own masterpiece. There were different colored hands and flowers. It was swirls and rainbows and, unsurprisingly, dragons. Tiny, little things floating throughout. Without a squint of the eye, you probably wouldn't be able to tell. She stood, wiping her hands on her jeans. "How about a snack?"

"Yes, please, mummy!" She spoke without looking up from her work, her tongue sticking out to one side, brow furrowed in concentration. Hermione ruffled her hair as she walked past, getting smudges of paint in it. She walked through the connecting doorway into the kitchen, opening the fridge.

"Alright, love. We've got apples-"

"-only green!"

"-We've got berries-"

"-Blue!"

"-we have strawberries."

"All of them, mummy!" Hermione chuckled and took a bowl out, dumping a bunch of blueberries out and making a face. She hated blueberries. In her opinion, they were the worst of all the berries. She wasn't so fond of blackberries, either, and luckily, neither was Addie. She took out a small knife, dicing the green apple and cutting the strawberries in half. She added them to the bowl of blueberries and grabbed a cup of water, heading back into the living room. She set the bowl down in front of Addie, who immediately shoved four blueberries in her mouth. Hermione shivered at that and Addie giggled. "They're nutrisis."

"They're gross." Hermione made a face, dropping herself onto the plastic-covered couch, extending her legs out in front of her. The little girl put her paints down, moving over to her mother and settled into the extra space in the couch, semi-sitting up so she could eat her fruit. She picked up a strawberry and offered it to Hermione, who opened her mouth. She bit the fruit and giggled, wrapping an arm around her little one's waist.

"Mama, can you tell me a story?" Those soft gray eyes looked up at her with innocence. Hermione settled into the couch, swallowing the strawberry. She looked at her daughter expectantly. Addie rarely asked for a story without knowing which one she wanted. "A daddy story."

She gasped, smiling. "A daddy story! Those are always fun. What story about your father did you want?"

"I dunno. Something….new." She smiled at her and moved a stray hair out of Addie's face. "Something pretty." Hermione nibbled on her lower lip, her mind racing with all of the memories she spent with him. There weren't very many that were pretty. There weren't very many at all, actually. She definitely couldn't tell her of the night she was conceived. Although, really, that was the prettiest. A small shiver ran up her spine as she recalled the feel of his fingers over her skin. "Cold, mama?"

Hermione chuckled. "Just a little bit." Adeline put the empty bowl down and cuddled up to her mother. "Much better." Her arms wrapped around her fully as she contemplated where to start. Should she make something up? Or should she bend the truth a little? She twisted her lips as she thought. "Okay. How about I tell you about the time he gave me his handkerchief outside the Yule Ball?"

"What's that?" She shifted, clearly curious.

"A handkerchief is a cloth napkin and a Yule Ball is a dance." Hermione smiled and began to tell the story. It wasn't exactly a lie. He did hand her a handkerchief after he found her crying on the stone steps. Her eyes had been red and blotchy and her shoes had been kicked off to the side. Others went around her, ignoring her, but he didn't. Of course, he never did ignore her. He didn't say much, he just took the cloth out of his pocket and handed it to her. When she'd looked at him in shock, his exact words were, 'You're going to flood the hall crying over the pathetic weasel.' And then he'd followed it up with, 'Don't bother giving it back. I mean it.'

Hermione told the story with a smile, running her fingers through Addie's hair, embellishing a bit in certain parts. By the time she'd finished, the young girl was asleep, her arm hanging over the couch. Hermione smiled and shifted so she could lay beside her daughter's sleeping form and then proceeded to take a nap herself.

XXXXXX

Draco groaned as he turned over, falling to the woman's side. She mewled, using the sheets to cover her breasts, as if it made any difference. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and willing her to go away. The fingers sliding up his leg told him the silent prayer hadn't worked. His hand snatched out and took hold of her wrist. "No more. I have to get ready for work." He shoved her hand aside and sat up, stretching. She admired his form, fit and tight. She shifted over to him and lay a hand over his shoulder and on his chest.

"Are you sure you have to go?" She spoke with a pout, her lips on the back of his neck. He made a face and moved her arm from him. He stood without another word, grabbing a towel from a drawer and opening the bathroom door. "Want some company?"

"Go home, Emily. I need some peace." He snapped, shutting the door in her face. When would she learn? He only ever asked her over when he was desperate for a distraction. It wasn't love, it was barely even like. She fucked like a champion, though.

Less than an hour later, Draco had arrived to work just in time. He stepped out of the fireplace as the green flames disappeared from his person. He brushed off imaginary soot, making his way through the crowd. The Ministry of Magic sang with noise. People were moving left and right, trying to get to the floos before anyone else, trying to get to the phone booths before anyone else. He'd already been bumped into several times. He never stopped to wait for an apology, they usually never came. Not because people didn't try to apologize, they did. It's just that upon seeing his face, they'd fall silent, frightened. He didn't quite mind it, either. It meant less and less idiots spoke to him.

He walked quickly to the lifts, a briefcase in one hand. His other hand ran through his hair, which was just the perfect cut for his features. He no longer slicked it back. The blonde strands were shorter than when he was in school, no longer full of gel and pomade. It was styled neatly now. He stepped in when the door opened and leaned against the wall of the lift. Draco was dressed casually in dark jeans and a plain white t-shirt under a black leather jacket. He always was, though. His job did not allow him to be so constrained. You see, Draco Malfoy was a Hit Wizard. It hadn't been the job he was going for, but it's where he ended up and now, he couldn't see himself doing anything else. He closed his eyes and waited for the lift to move once more. It was surprising to many that he didn't need to hold on for balance, but not for the man who entered the lift when the doors opened once more.

Blaise smiled at his partner, throwing his briefcase at him with force. Unsurprisingly, Draco caught it as it hit him, opening his eyes. "Really? My nan throws harder than you and she's dead." Blaise chuckled, catching the briefcase that Draco threw back and moved in to stand beside him. He wore a similar outfit to his friend, except his shirt was a deep blue. "How was last night? Did you get the idiot?"

"You doubt my abilities?" Blaise teased, crossing his arms and leaning against the opposite wall of the lift. "Of course I caught him. He was almost too easy. It seems the Apple didn't fall far from the tree. Goyle Sr. is almost as stupid as his son was." The doors to the lift opened again before it had the chance to depart and the raven haired boy and ginger walking in cleared their throats, barely acknowledging their school rivals. "Good morning, Mr. Potter."

Blaise's voice was thick and full of venom. Nearly eight years later and they were still just as good friends as at Hogwarts. The difference was that once they stepped onto the floor that the auror and hit wizards offices shared, they became a tad more civil. They were as professional as they could be and focused on their work, ignoring the other duo unless they had no choice but to work together.

Harry and Draco were often paired up together if need be, but there was no way that he could be trusted alone with Ron. The two held horrible grudges against one another. Ron couldn't even hear the blonde speak without his blood boiling. Blaise was more civil with the ginger as they never really spoke in school anyways. But Potter, precious Potter.

"Zabini." Harry replied curtly, his shoulders tense already. He looked down at his watch. "We've got about five minutes before work begins, do you have anything you need to say?"

"Yes, I simply wanted to thank you for your ignorance." The dark-skinned man spoke smoothly, calmly now. "If it hadn't been for your ineptitude, your complete and utter lack of attention and grace, this case wouldn't have landed in our laps." Draco watched with a smirk on his lips as Weasley's hand clenched into a fist, their backs still to them. "And then we wouldn't have had the chance to solve it in three days, what took you months to get halfway."

At this Ron whipped around, his face twisted in anger, skin slowly turning redder and redder. Draco raised a brow, his arms still crossed. His muscles stretched his shirt and jacket tight over his chest. Harry turned his hand on Ron's shoulder. Draco smirked, standing up straight, towering over the two of them. "Something to say, Weasley?"

"You know as well as I do, Malfoy-" Ron spat his name out. "-that you're as crooked as they come. If you had any luck solving the case, it's because you already knew where Goyle was. You can pretend to be innocent in front of the entire wizarding world, but we know you, both of you. You gits have somehow got the whole world fooled. Not us."

"That's enough, Ron." Harry interjected, tugging on his shirt to move him away. It wasn't that he didn't want to argue with the two. He would give his left arm to be able to punch Malfoy to a pulp with his right one. But Harry wasn't usually violent, not one bit. So he suppressed the urge. No, he stopped Ron for two reasons.

One was that he didn't honestly think it could be worth it. Malfoy would continue to stay on as a Hit Wizard and Ronald would stay angry, no matter what.

The second reason, and the most important one, was that even though the ginger had failed to notice, Draco had slipped his wand into his grip. His knuckles white over the slick stick. Harry had noticed the man tense up and could see the will to strike in his icy gray eyes. No matter what anyone thought, it was clear to him. Draco Malfoy was a dangerous man. He didn't take accusations lightly.

"Yes, you might want to listen to your girlfriend, Weasley." Malfoy snapped, taking a step forward. "Or I'll give you a second scar to add to your growing collection." Harry jumped in the middle as Ron launched forward and Draco laughed coldly. Yes, from all the scars on Ron's body, there was one Draco was most proud of. The only one he inflicted. He remembered that day, finally getting the chance to beat Weasley up so bad he caused a permanent scar to form on that pale face, around his left temple. It had landed Draco on probation and even worse, in handcuffs as Potter dragged him to the Minister's office. He ran his tongue over his teeth at the memory, his eyes cold. Harry suppressed the urge to shiver at the look.

The four had been working a case, searching for former Death Eaters when one of them messed up. It wasn't clear exactly who had fucked up the situation because each duo blamed the other, but Blaise ended up on the receiving end of a curse. It had come from a group of death eaters who were mid-escape. One of those death eaters was Goyle Sr. Draco was livid that his partner had been hurt and instantly blamed Ron. The latter denied it was his fault, he could remember.

"You cost us the case, you idiot! If you had been paying attention instead of fantasizing about all of your whores!" Ron snapped as the final death eater left. Draco spun around at him, glaring daggers.

"That's rich coming from you, you filthy ginger! You can't get your head out of your arse to save your life!" He'd snapped back. He was very sure they sounded like their schoolyard selves again, but at this point, he didn't care. His partner was hurt, Harry attempting to tend to his wounds and send out a distress call to get some healers there. "If he dies, this is on you, Weasley. I swear I will kill you."

Ron stepped in closed, both of them eye to eye, venom coming off of them in waves. "Try me, Malfoy! Lay one finger on me and I'll-"

"And you'll what?" He snapped, fists clenching. The urge to strike was strong. "Face it, Weasley, you can't do anything. You couldn't even hang on to your precious Gryffindor Princess, she had to come fall into my bed!"

"Shut up!" Ron lunged at him, dropping them both to the ground and getting in a few punches. Draco managed to get the upper hand, rolling them over with his lip busted and bleeding, but he didn't seem to care. This fight had been a long time coming. Years of pent up aggression and anger came out. There seemed to be no signs of stopping. Draco pummeled down at the red haired man, his fist meeting bone. His fist lifted and suddenly, Malfoy was thrown off of Ron, smacking into one of the walls. He growled as he stood, but Potter sent another spell his way. Draco was dropped to the ground, the spell binding his hands together.

That was how the Minister of Magic found them, with Ronald out cold, his head split open, Blaise groaning from the spell as he came to and two very, very angry rivals. That was the first and last time Ron and Draco were allowed to work a case together, no matter who else was involved.'

The lift doors opened before either man could make a move and Malfoy's wand slipped back into his arm holster. Ronald squared his shoulders and turned, stepping out after Harry. Draco and Blaise straightened their shoulders and headed out after them, ignoring the looks as they made their way to their office.

They were arguably the least liked of the entire wizards in the department. It didn't have to do with the war, most aurors and hit wizards had been briefed on their involvement on it. They had also understood that Draco and Blaise had been children in an impossible position. And they had been given years and years of reasons to understand that they had become better men now. Not perfect, never perfect. But Better. They were the least liked because they were willing to do whatever it took to make sure they closed their cases. They had never really done anything illegal, but it was borderline. Draco and Blaise found loopholes and weaved through them as necessary.

The two friends slipped into their office, closing the door behind them and Draco sighed as he took a seat, his head in hands. "I'm gonna kill him, Blaise. One of these days, I'm not going to be able to control myself and I'm going to fucking kill him."

Blaise took a deep breath, crossing his arms and looking out the window, down at the bustling people of the ministry. "Unless I get to him first."

XXXXXX

It was a knock on the door that woke her. She sat upright, rubbing her eyes before realizing Adeline was nowhere in sight. "Addie?" She called out, swinging her legs off of the couch. She pushed herself up and rubbed her hands over her face. "Elizabeth Adeline, where are you?" She walked into the kitchen, where Addie sat transfixed on the tv, her chin in hand.

"Mama!" The little girl grinned, running to give her mother a big hug. "You're awake!" She tilted her head to look up at her, giggling.

Hermione let out a breath she didn't realize that she'd been holding, chuckling softly. "Love, how many times have I told you not to leave the room when I'm asleep? You should have woken me." She pushed golden hair behind her ears, bumping their foreheads together.

"Sorry, mama. I wanted some milk." She pointed to the empty glass in front of her and lifted it, begging her silently for some more. Hermione chuckled and sighed in relief. There was a fear in her that one day, someone would find them. Six years had gone by and Hermione had not once run into anyone she knew from her past. There was once, when Adeline was only a few months old, that she swore she saw Oliver Wood across the platform on 34th St.

Another knock on the door and Hermione shook her head. "Stay right there, Addie. I mean it."

"Okay." The little Granger murmured as she picked up the control, flipping channels. Hermione ran a hand over her hair, pulling it out of its messy ponytail. She ran her fingers through it and opened the door, smiling widely.

Her smile faltered, brows furrowing together. "Bran! What are you doing here? It's so early."

The man wore a look of confusion and looked down at his watch. "It's seven o'clock, Ms. Granger. Unless my clock is wrong."

"Oh!" She chuckled and placed a hand on her forehead. "I am so sorry, Brandon. I truly am. I fell asleep a few hours ago. I haven't got the sitter or any clean clothes on. I haven't even showered." She made a face, biting her lower lip. "Is there any way we can take a rain check?"

He chuckled and crossed his arms, leaning on the railing. "Or you could invite me inside and I can cook you and your little girl some dinner?" He looked mighty impressively, if she did say so herself. However, she hesitated, looking behind her and into what she could see of the kitchen, catching Addie flipping the channels again. "Come on, Granger. What's the worst thing that could happen?"

Hermione but her lip again before letting out a sigh and smiling. "Okay, sure. Why not?" She swung the door open and stepped aside. He hesitated for a moment before stepping in, looking around the place with a whistle. "If you want, you can hang in the living room. Just give me a moment to catch Addie up to speed, okay?" He nodded and she smiled, leading him into the living room and heading into the kitchen herself. "Sweetie?" She tilted her head at Addie, who seemed entirely focused on the tv. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she chuckled at how spaced out her child could get. "Love, what are you-" she froze as she turned to the program, her smile leaving her face.

"We interrupt your scheduled programming with breaking news. It has just been confirmed that the body found early this morning in Central Park has been positively identified as Brandon McAllister, an elementary teacher in Downtown Manhattan."