Draco sat across from Potter and Weasley, Zabini sitting to his left. The four were at his dining room table, papers strewn across the tabletop. Now that their mini vacation was over, it was time to get back to their case. Draco had more reason than ever to figure this mystery out. Unfortunately, while Hermione's campaign debut went as schedule with no problems, they had designed the whole event as a trap, except the bait wasn't taken.

Every detail had been micromanaged, from the gala being a masquerade, to information some security staff received. Draco wouldn't allow either Potter nor Zabini to record any information, it was strictly classified and in person planning. Keeping it vague, he put in an official request for a shadow, which would be visible in their organization's headquarters. Zabini sent him one of his 'best' agents every other day, being sure to inform them to not disclose their assignment to anyone. Each person believed them to be the only shadow requested.

"They all played their parts, and yet nothing," Draco thought aloud, not understanding what they were missing. The Wizengamot had publicly announced they would allow each Minister Potential four Aurors for security details. "The gala was such a large event with next to no detail. The traitor should have found that to be the perfect opportunity to plan something. Yet, they didn't.

"Why? What does that mean?" He continued, a hand slowly running down his face. Something somewhere wasn't adding up. "It almost suggests that you don't have a spy. If that were so, what the fuck has been going on in your sanction?"

"Right," Blaise raised a hand to point out some sort of evidence in front of him, "this is what I have been saying, Malfoy. No matter what angle I investigate, there is no evidence of espionage."

"Then it is a Purist," Weasley slowly stated in a bit of a question. The Italian shook his head

"No, I'm telling you, it is not a Purist," he looked to Draco, leaning in his elbows, "I have been through everyone, Draco. This wasn't one of them. Nott is still in that crowd for me, and he said that no one claims the attacks. If no one from the Purist group are bragging by now, then what would they need her details and memory if her attack for? It would be seen as some sort of accomplishment for them."

"Right, I see what you're saying," Harry murmured, his knuckle under his nose as he stared at the papers. He Auror sighed, standing before pacing in thought. "What is the time-line from her first attack all the way to the Gala?"

"Let's see, the first attack that was reported to me," Zabini started, sifting through pages before finally finding the information he was after, "was 2006. It wasn't so much as an attack as the person got into a fight with her husband."

"What?" Weasley furrowed his brow and reached across the table to snag the paper. Harry stopped his pacing and looked over the report with him. The raven-haired wizard shook his head. "Oh, wait, yeah, I remember this guy.

"He was an absolute walnut. Yeah, he got a wicked attitude when Hermione bumped into him, started gobbing off and pulled his wand. I dunno, he just seemed like some prick." Ron shook his head and flipped the page to the side. "What's next?"

"In 2007, a shadow reported someone tailing her, but it says they turned out to be a journalist," Blaise continued, flipping to the next one he'd found while Weasley was talking, "then just a few months prior to her hospitalization in 2008, her shadow came up missing. I literally mean it when I say he came up missing. All of my traces of him are gone. Then the night of her attack, the current shadow didn't check in as they were supposed to."

"When did her details go missing?" Draco asked, summoning his scotch and four glasses. He'd need about seven of these he had been thinking to himself exhaustedly.

"Maybe a month or so after you sent her memory in, which vanished not long after. I had been working on investigating, but there's no evidence anywhere." The Italian began mumbling out a string of Italian curses before sipping his drink. "But there is no denying it happened in my house."

"Zabini,' Draco stopped the tumbler from reaching his lips, "Zabini, it did happen in your house."

"Yes, I just SAID that," Blaise groaned a hand landing on his forehead, shame clearly written on his face. Not only did he let down a client, but he let down one of his best mates.

"No, you self-depreciating, moron," the blonde rolled his eyes and gestured to him, "your literal house, Blaise. Where you live!"

"Who the hell could have possibly? Mother wouldn't," the Italian scoured his brain, shaking his head, "she wouldn't dare mess with her allowance. No one in the family would mess with my business, actually. They know better."

"They don't have any friends who come around?" Harry questioned, back to pacing. Zabini was right, no one in his family would dare go against him, he's tried to get someone to merely talk to him about a case the Zabini faction tracked. They couldn't have Disapparated faster.

"No one of note," He denied with a lazy shrug. He didn't recall any of their friends being too forward or asking odd questions.

"What about—what's his name?" Draco started out, holding a finger up but then faltering. The wizard thought for a moment before snapping his fingers at Blaise. "Your mum's new beau?"

"Carlos? He's a muggle." Zabini instantly shook his head. "You need magic to get into my shop, Malfoy."

"Do you? Or do you need traces of magic?" The blond raised a brow, not sure how Blaise's system worked, he just knew the pass. The other three furrowed their brows, clearly not following him. He groaned out a sigh and thought for a moment.

"I am able to cure CC tremors, not their mental trauma, but on a cellular level. Our magic leaves behind unique residue sometimes, like in CC Tremors, when emotions are high, physical stress is maximized, or if the person is under long sessions of magic," the healer explained to Harry, as the other two weren't quite following along. They probably got the gist of it.

"What would a muggle want with Granger?" Zabini doubtfully questioned.

"Not Hermione," Harry informed, realization dawning on him, "but her work."

"Why? How do they know enough to even feel threatened by her work? We are supposed to be under secrecy." Ron shook his head. "I dunno, I feel like we're missing something."

"I'll keep an eye on him," Zabini grumbled, now thinking of nothing, but Carlos. He did a proper background check. There didn't seem be anything out of the ordinary. The older Italian was a family man, a history professor, active in his community, and was a man of peace. Blaise stood, picking up his jumper and polishing off his scotch. "I'll get back to you if I find anything out."

"I've a sodding headache," Draco sighed, draining his tumbler before pouring a bit more. It felt like they were getting close to something, but it was just too much of a mess. There was the opening and closing if doors and drawers in his kitchen, Sadie was preparing a bowl of sliced lemons and strawberries.

"I feel like you guys are thinking of this too much as brits, and less worldly," the American woman sat at the table with them, bowl and napkin in hand. Her fingers gathered a strawberry and lemon before popping them into her mouth. The three looked at her expectantly, not sure where she was going. "I mean, who is to say that Hermione is the only one that has been targeted? Maybe there are other people in different parts of the world."

"How would we specifically narrow that down, though?" Weasley thought aloud. "Search for people who are working on similar things as her?"

"It's better than nothing," Harry offered, shrugging before standing himself. "I'll go begin a briefing. Come on, Ron."

"Yeah, will you be bringing Hu and Rose over?" Weasley asked as he stood. A half nod was sent to him before Ron and Harry left for the Auror's office. Draco sat there for a few moments staring at the papers littering his table. He gathered them and sent them off to his office.

"I have to get ready for work," the blond lazily pushed himself up, sighing as he spoke. He set their tumblers to washing and dry themselves before making his liqueur set vanish. "Are you sure you're okay with sitting the kids, Sade?"

"Drac, take your ass upstairs and get ready for work," the witch pointed towards the stairwell, apparently very fed up with his bullshite. Draco just laughed and nodded; Sadie wasn't a witch who normally cursed. He'd been ecstatic to see his makeshift family standing up the pier, it'd been years since he'd seen them last. Scorpius was over the moon when the tot realized the new additions to their party. While they hadn't met him in person, his brothers and sister-in-law made sure video call as much as possible, being sure the kid had enough family in his life.

"I'm really glad you lot are here, dear," Draco told the younger witch before kissing the top of her head and disappearing to do as he was told.

"You know," a voice began near the kitchen, by the corridor arch, Sadie turned to find Hermione walking in with an uncontained smile. "It's strange to see him like that with anyone other than his mother. Draco has never been the kind of man to show much emotion. It's how he was raised. When we were younger, the only time you could catch him smiling was when he was being a slimy little jerk.

"Oh, yeah" the brunette scrunched her face up and nodded, "he was a nightmare from hell."

"With the way he talked, well talks about you," Sadie took a second to finish chewing her fruit, tilting her head to appraise the witch dressed fitness attire in front of her, "you would never guess he acted that way towards you. We all thought he was religious at first, turns out dude was just done for is all. Freaking simp."

"You can't blame him," Draco's mate, Danny came in, widely beaming. The muggle just slightly reminded her of Sirius and Hermione found herself smiling along. "I had no idea how much a fox you were. The ass never showed any pictures of you."

"In hindsight," Hermione faintly grimaced, her head shaking, "I'm glad he didn't, we weren't even on speaking terms at the time."

"I had a feeling," Benji admitted as he nodded. The man walked into the dining room to sit with his wife. "He didn't talk about you like he was pining for some girl, like Danny might hint at. I had asked him when he first came to New York, why he come all the way to America to study medicine. He'd said, 'to prove my worth and that it wasn't a waste for my life to be saved.'

"When we put it together that he wasn't talking about a religion, which wasn't until Tori passed," he quickly cut himself off, apparently to prevent her from thinking he longed for her even while married, which Hermione knew. From the way he talked about her, it sounded like he loved Astoria dearly. "I always kind of figured you were a doctor or something. Someone he was trying to prove himself to."

"That does sound like him," she softly cooed, taking in a sharp breath a moment later and shaking her head. "Well, I've got to get in the shower and head to work. See you lot later."

"Later!" Danny echoed snagging a strawberry from Sadie's bowl. "I don't know how you can eat straight lemons, you weird ass pucker fish."

"I hope some of the juices got on that," the witch shot back, sticking her tongue out at him. "Stupid head."

Black dragon hide Balmorals tapped across stone slab flooring, turning down several corridors. The Italian wizard would stop periodically within his home, discreetly letting loose a creature no bigger than his pinky nail. There was no way a muggle was behind such work, no way one had wriggled their way into his security. Blaise lowly hummed out a Puccini piece as he traversed his villa, nodding to a staff member as he passed by. The next day he would release more traccibellula, a result of insects farming he'd been working on the last few months. If there were no current ways to track his Judas, he would make one.

He rounded the corner leading to his office, meeting the first staff member he would be questioning about their recent house guest. Carlos Di Dio, Blaise silently mulled over in his head. His mother met him on a retreat in Morocco, two years ago, I believe. Of course, when it seemed like his mama was becoming more interested in the bloke, he had the man investigated, right down to his great-grandparents. Perhaps, I need to go back even further.

Carlos was a reserved man, but he was able to become the life of the party easily, charming many of his younger cousins, all who had similar lines of thinking as Granger. The Italian wizard supposed he could see the appeal of blending their cultures. Draco's friends from across the pond seemed all right enough, easy to get along with. They had been just as happy as anyone when they heard the two were pregnant. Though, to majority of company, it was a shock.

Hermione Granger having Draco Malfoy's child, he let out a huff and shook his head, brows peaking, sfrenati. Blaise sat behind his desk a couple weeks after investigating the man further, leaned back in thought as a staff member stood across from him. Carlos just about had the same routine every day. The muggle woke, prepared for work, had breakfast with them, and left soon after to head to the university. A few of the wizard's dragonflies zipped into Carlos' vehicle, stationing themselves in different angles. If the man was a spy, Blaise would find out, it's what he did.

Hermione had just been closing her El case when another group approached her. A rather short man, the height just above her knees came timidly knocking at her office door. His grey complexion reminded the witch of Ern. The smaller being now sat on a stool, reaching the same height as her. He had removed the bowler he was wearing and was handing over a small book, that might have been a tome to him.

"So, what you're describing, Mr. Stonehand, will be quite the project," Hermione absently muttered, reading over the plans in her hand. Honestly, though, the witch mutely mused, a barely containable excitement flitting through her, it's groundbreaking! The witch stood with the book in hand, pacing from one end of the room to the other as she read through the pages once more. "We could revolutionize…travelled, floo…thing of the past."

The deep gnome sat nervously watching the higher being before him. Golly all, he mentally grumbled, nearly wringing his hat in his hand. Ammis shoulda came. She is much gooder at talking. Large dark orbs followed the path the witch was paving in her flooring, still silently reading, making him a jittery mess. He wished she would say something, anything.

"I imagine you would like this back?" The witch finally handed over his book. She sat back at her desk and summoned a tumbler of water for the gnome and resituated herself. "Mr. Stonehand, unfortunately, there would be various different elements that would go into making a portal such as this. It would take years to complete and quite possibly millions of Galleons to fund.

"I do agree it's functionality would change the way we travelled quite a lot. If you don't mind my asking, what is it your community wishes to accomplish building such structures?" As far as Hermione knew, Deep Gnomes mostly stuck to themselves underground, very rarely retreated into the world, which was why they knew so little about them.

"Call me Thuddlall, Madam Minister," the man insisted with a low, sluggish dialect, he nodded his head to the smiling woman across him before continuing, "I just got named Overseer, you see, and I want to redo some things. Like you are going to do."

"Do you mean open your community?" She pleasantly quizzed, her head drooping to the side, letting the way he'd addressed her be, a lot of people have already taken to referring to the witch by the title. The man nodded with a sort of 'hurfumph' that she assumed was a laugh. "Do others share your goal?"

"Used to not, but after the truce, our dwellers agree we need to make our hearthstones gooder," Thuddlall explained, pointing at the book on the desk. "Our best tinkerer redid those. Lughee says surfacers don't have quiddity blooms."

"Quiditidy…Quiddity Blooms?" The witch stumbled over the string of consonants. Hermione blinked, never having heard that before. She shook her head. "I've not a clue what those are, so most likely no, we don't."

"That's all right, I can't say many of your words," the grey being had a sort of stuttering laugh as she fumbled over the word, making Hermione grin at her mess up. "They are the treasure of dwellers."

"What do you use these blooms for? What are they even? Are they a flower?" The witch nodded at his statement, understanding it may very well be his first time on the surface. Did the sun negatively affect him? Did the venture near home at all? Was he uncomfortable there now?

"Mmn, no, they aren't a plant, really," He seemed to be having difficulties wording it, but finally said, "they are like crystals, but have magic in them. Hmmn, think of my cup. If too much fills it, it spills over and goes into the surface. Human magic is like that."

"Really? Fascinating! So, the blooms, I'm sorry—I fear I may mess that word up again," Hermione grinned and began once more, "are our excess magic? Oh, dear, Thuddlall, before we continue these negotiations allow me to research a few of our laws pertaining the ownership of these stones. Don't misunderstand, I want to be sure that going forward, surfacers will not try to strong arm your community in handing over your materials, because they think it belongs to them.

"We'll start there with your case, and move on after," the witch was filling out a form and sliding it to him after. "This is just stating you are giving me permission to research your case, including nosing about in your culture and territory. I will be absolutely respectful."

"Thank you, Madam Minister," crowed the gnome, the whitest and most jagged teeth she'd ever seen peaked from behind his lips. "Miss Luna said you are large hearted."

"Luna sent you? I'll have to thank her for sending such an interesting case to me," Hermione filed away the form, being sure to sensor their national treasures. She handed him another slip of parchment. "If you would, write down any ways I can reach you. How much Bloom stone typically grows?"

"Hmmn," Thuddlall hummed in thought, a clawed finger scratching at his chin, "you could maybe build a solid replica of that big bridge with buildings you have here in a year."

"Merlin," the witch blinked a few times. That was quite a lot of material in just a year. That's, she paused doing the maths in her head, just over twenty-three million Galleons—in one year. Thuddlall simply nodded.

"Yes, we knew him," the gnome confirmed, looking at her expectantly. Hermione quickly shook her head

"Oh, no, it's an expression we use here," she was hurrying out when she paused, "yes, but what about Merlin?"

"Merlin used quiddity blooms in his magic," Thuddlall told her, acting as if it should be common knowledge, but maybe that was just a linguistic and dialect difference. Luna Scamander, you beautiful, beautiful witch! Thuddlall slipped off the stool and Hermione stood to meet him around the desk. "Come to our hearthstone, we have much to talk over."

"I look forward to it, Thuddlall." The witch held her hand out to shake his, but was surprised when he held up the tiniest of orbs, it was an iridescent pearl. The closer Hermione looked at it, the more brightly it shimmered. "Curious!"

"For you, Madam Minister," Thuddlall kindly lulled, a timid smile meeting her. "Luna said you were kind, and you will keep our treasure safe. As pay, you can have this."

"Well, when you put it like that," Hermione sighed in defeat before the fight even started. She nodded and smiled warmly as she accepted the tiny gem in her palm. "Thank you, Thuddlall. I will see you soon, have a good day."

"Have a gooder day, Madam Minister," the deep gnome bid her farewell, placed his bowler back on and was out the door. Hermione looked back down at the orb, summoning a little box to keep it in for the moment. If Hermione Granger were the goddess Persephone or Athena, Luna Scamander nee Lovegood was the goddess Discordia. Louelle Cullings was busy pushing out the forms her employer had just finished not but an hour ago when said witch was rushing through her office door, robes and bag in hand with a brilliant smile.

"I'm off to the BWL, Louelle," Mrs. Granger-Weasley sang out in a light soprano. Well, she knew she had a passion for her work, but this is surprising, she thought. Her brunette employer was nearly skipping to the British Wizarding Library. The Ravenclaw in spirit threw herself into her research, tracking down all the laws she could pertaining to property possession and rural rights in Rapa Nui. After some time of finding books, making notes in between reading, and finding new books to start the whole process again, Hermione found it to be late into the evening.

"Oh, gods, Draco is going to scold me again," she exhaustedly sighed, shoulders slouching. The witch charmed her material to begin sorting itself, sending the books off to their returns, and was popping out of the library. Hermione stepped into the house from the front porch and was greeted by Draco twirling a giggling Rosie about with Alec playing an acoustic guitar. This was one of the reasons why she moved in after their home was broken into, Draco was so good with children and these were sights she liked coming home to.

"MUMMY!" The strawberry brunette was bounding over to her and letting herself be scooped up into a big hug.

"Oh, baby girl, you're getting bigger and bigger by the day," Hermione sang once more, spinning about with her in her arms. "Have you been a well-behaved big girl?"

"I was perfectly good," a surprised snort left the witch at the little girl's reply. She imagined this was Selena's work.

"Well, I am just perfectly proud of you, darling," Hermione sat her little down, wrapping her arms around Scorpius. "How about you, my little snakelet?"

"Yeah, I was good, Mio," the much smaller Malfoy promised and was off playing with Rosie, and Albus? The witch decided not to question it, but instead kissed atop his head and squeezed the boy to her.

"Oh, auntie has missed you!" She chorused between giggles. Albus was trying to wriggle away, he was much too old for baby things.

"Auntie 'Mione, I seen you yesterday," Albus moaned, going limp in her arms to try to melt out of them. She kissed him one last time and let him free. Hermione swayed her way to Draco, humming and twirling into his arms.

"I have notice you've been in quite the elated state today, Dea," he enveloped the radiating woman and placed a light peck on the tip of her nose. She simply began to sway and hum, nuzzling her nose against his.

"Well, while I'm dying to tell you, I'm going to go take a shower first," Hermione coyly teased, gifting him a playful wink. The witch disappeared up the stairs, leaving the man staring after her, forbidding himself from becoming a moth. Many glad tidings to the man or woman who brought about this mood.

Draco pulled out the raw steak he'd been marinating for the lovely witch now showering, a sort of cleansing aura seeping its way through his ceiling and into his own. If the tart wasn't going to listen to her healer about overworking, then he would just have to accommodate her sporadic schedule. Not that he could say a damn thing, emergencies often kept him away from home. They would be eating dinner and, in a crack, he's gone, after saying goodbye. The blond could, in fact imagine what it was like to see someone you love, and then suddenly they are gone.

So, he never leaves without saying goodbye, he wouldn't be able to stand it from across the veil. To see her suffering because she didn't get to at least see him before he left would be torture, and that was precisely what would be used on him in the Underworld. Merlin knew he could handle physical torture. Draco looked over his shoulder, feeling something graze by him. Hermione had just retreated from her shower, and—

"Right on time, too," he told the pretty woman behind him munching on a cheese stick. The wizard swiftly thinned the small steak down and transferred its pieces to the side of a salad. "Here you are, Dea, as requested. This is still what you want—not going to change your mind, swot?"

"No, no, it still sounds amazing," Hermione assured him, brushing her lips over his and gliding over to the dining room, "thank you, darling."

"Of course. So," began the wizard meandering to sit next to her, "how was your day today, sweetheart?"

"It was just perfectly splendid," dripped from those pretty petals of hers. Draco leaned his chin in his palm and nodded, prompting her to continue. The witch took a few bites of her salad, silently collecting her thoughts before discussing what had happened earlier. Her Hazels flickered up, catching him still staring at her for no reason other than just to do so. "Stop staring at me while I'm eating, prat!"

"I really, really wish that I could, sweetheart," Draco kissed the back of his teeth, "but that's a lie. You're just too adorable when you're like this, I can't help but revel in your joy. You're like a drug—no, no you are exactly a drug. I'm a bloody addict."

"You and your silver tongue, Draco Malfoy," The witch next to him covered her face, shaking her head.

"You think I'm exaggerating, witch. I turn into a dickhead when I go all day without seeing you, all jittery and agitated. The moment I see hazels, though, I can breathe again and I'm suddenly nicer." Hermione averted her eyes to him and stopped the stupid grin the was edging its way onto her face. "So, why was my dosage so high today, Dea?"

"I swear to Merlin, Draco," she started, but quickly stopped, summoning the small box to the table. "Oh, yes, Merlin! So, I accepted an unusual case today. I met a Deep Gnome named Thuddlall Stonehand earlier this afternoon. He gave this to me out of appreciation, take a look at it."

Draco picked the small box up, removing the lid to find a small pearl. The wizard made the tiny thing levitate and spin before them. He leaned forward, greys observing the surface of it. To the naked eye, it did seem like it was merely a uniquely coloured pearl that shimmered in the light. A magiscope was summoned in front of him as he broke his levitation, letting the small gem drop into his palm.

"He told you what this is, I presume?" Draco was adjusting the lenses to a proper focus and peered at it this way.

"Yes, I fumbled over the word at first," the witch chuckled next to him, making him idly smile, "its call Quiddity Blooms. He said it grows in their hearthstone."

"I've never met a Deep Gnome," was his response to the information. "It looks as if it shimmers, like a normal jewel would—however, if you look at it magnified, it is glowing."

He let the witch examine the molecules gently pulsing with light. That was merely just the surface of the stone, the whole thing was supposed to be this Quiddity. Hermione hummed pulling away from the magiscope and crossing her arms in thought. Sadie reached for the device after, commenting on the glow coming from within each cell and wasn't reflecting light. Danny was next, he reached around the witch and slid to himself.

"Wait, what am I looking at?" The dark chestnut-haired man quizzed. "I don't see any glowing, but I do feel dizzy. Is that normal?"

"We dunno," Hermione shrugged, "they've never shared this with surfacers. Oh! Aside from Merlin himself. Thuddlall said he used it in his magics. Which might mean they know more about him than is recor—"

"Ah, wait, now I see what you're talkin' 'bout," Danny interrupted. He slid the device to Alec, asking, "do you see it, Al?"

"Mnn, nope," The sandy blond denied, looking closer. He looked at it from the side, observing the color. "It has a really unique pigment to it though. It's almost a saturated moonstone, you know what I mean, Benj?"

"Yeah, yeah, like the color is especially condensed," Benji nodded in understanding as he brought the device up to better look. He also didn't see what they were talking about, but he did feel that dizziness Danny had mentioned.

"No, wait, it's glowing now," Alec and Benji chorused.

"It takes muggles longer to see it?" Hermione offered a suggestion. Draco slowly nodded.

"Did he tell you anything about this Quiddity Bloom?" He summoned a glass of water for the witch continuing her dinner.

"Yes, he said that it grows from the excess magics we humans possess. Thuddlall explained it as if a cup were overflowing. He said they have more to discuss about it." She watched as Draco picked the orb up and examined it by eye. The blond charmed it to be on display once more, staring at it in a mute silence before looking to Benji.

"Focus on the gem, Benj," he demanded, nodding to it, clearly wanting to run experiments. The muggle did as he was told, muttering about good old days and being a guinea pig. Benji focused on the orb, working at slowing his breathing and emptying his mind, and sat there for several minutes. Draco took a calming breath as he stood, sending the dishes off, to take care of themselves. "I'm going to get a fresh notebook and a few supplies; want to come help decide what we need?"

"Sure, I'm excited to learn more about it," the pretty bookworm beamed, sending her rays at him.

"Yes, I know," he sighed smugly, earning an unimpressed expression and her tongue poking out at him. As the two reached the entrance of Draco's underground training facility, his arms were snaking around her torso, his hips pressing into her rear. "I've been ready to burst all day, thanks to you, witch. When you get like that it's as if your very presence is delicately creeping over every bit of my skin, your magic marking my body as its own. If I begged, Dea, would you take me now?"

"Oh, you devil," Hermione bit her lower lip, letting her head lull back and feel his hands begin to massage her shoulders and arms. Tender nips and grazes from his teeth and lips covered her neck as he nodded next to her ear.

"A devil who worships your every breath, every cell, Dea," the demon just barely contained himself as he desperately gripped her to him, breathing becoming heavier when he inhaled the scent of her. Sweet pixie, I can't handle when he's like this, she groaned to herself, shuddering against him. A growl ripped through the wizard's throat and he tore himself away from her. "It gets harder and harder to stay away from you, but I will be well behaved and idolize your divine body later in bed."

"Oh, no, lover," Hermione darkly simpered, her hands gliding up under his tee. Draco felt her fingers dance over the muscles on his chest, a dainty hand clasped around his jaw. If the wicked witch would have moved her hand down any farther, she'd be choking him, and then that's all he could think of. "You are mine—now."

"Always, sweetheart," the wizard nearly gasped, finding himself on the mat and Hermione standing above him. Draco mindlessly cast a Muffliato and Colloportus.

"It's about bloody time!" Danny griped as the two entered the kitchen again. The man pointed at Draco dramatically, and politely said, "you can't just spirit away to attack your beauty in the middle of science, Draco. I'm so disappointed in you."

"Oi, now, I was trying to come back upstairs," the blond wizard gestured to himself and back at the corridor. "I was the one attacked, thank you, sir."

"Bullocks, I don't believe for a second that my future sister-in-law is anything but innocent, good sir, I say good day to you," Danny tipped his nose in the air, his hair flipping as he went. This had possibly been the most ridiculous display she'd ever seen, and Hermione couldn't help but chuckle. Draco scoffed as she lowered herself into her chair, primly crossing her legs and eloquently looking to the side.

"Innocent my—"

"I said good day," Danny fired out, "to you, sir."

Author's Note:

Hello, lovies!

Now that I have gotten over whatever slump I was in,

I am now able to write just fine! Yay!

I was going to wait to post, but as a birthday gift to me,

I decided to post early!

I'm excited.

As far as I know,

what I've had planned,

hasn't been done before,

or is a rare plotline in HP fics.

As always, comment below,

and perhaps,

pop into Albert's Place :)

Until next time!

~~ Haarii