Hermione felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her as she glanced at the clock—past midnight, and she was still at her desk. The office was eerily quiet, the usual hustle and bustle long gone. The dim light of her lamp cast long shadows across the room.

Hermione shifted slightly in her chair, feeling an ache in her muscles from hours of intense concentration. She stole a glance at Draco, who remained deeply absorbed in his work, his quill moving rapidly across the parchment. The fatigue was evident in the lines of his face, but she knew that, like her, he was too stubborn to call it a night. The only sound in the room was the steady ticking of the clock, each second slipping away in the late-night quiet until it was abruptly interrupted by the soft flutter of wings.

An owl swooped into the room, its arrival breaking the stillness as it dropped a parcel onto Draco's desk. Hermione's eyes followed the bird as it flew away after receiving its payment.

Draco carefully untied the string around the parcel, his fingers lingering momentarily as he removed the newspaper within. Without glancing at the front page, he set it aside, his attention drawn instead to the folded letter attached to it. He unfolded the parchment, his expression unreadable as his eyes skimmed over it.

"It's a letter from my mother," he began, "She's asking if I've seen tomorrow's issue of the Daily Prophet." He paused, his gaze shifting to the untouched newspaper on the desk. He turned it around, and his eyebrows shot up almost instantly as he read the title, "The Golden Girl Returns to the Wizarding World. But where has she been hiding?', an article by Rita Skeeter."

For a moment, Hermione was at a loss for how to respond. A surge of anger bubbled up inside her, sharp and hot. Everything was happening so fast—too fast. She had barely finished her first day at work, and now she was already splashed across the front page of The Prophet.

Draco looked at her, a strange expression softening his usually guarded features. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I know what it's like to have unwanted attention."

Hermione's frustration flared in response, the conflicting emotions swirling inside her finding their way to the surface. "How long are you going to keep up this hot and cold act, Malfoy?" she snapped, her voice laced with exasperation. The unspoken tension between them had been simmering for too long, and now it was boiling over.

Unsure of how to react to his unexpected empathy, she felt herself getting defensive, her walls going up. "One minute, you undermine me at the crime scene in front of Nott after you run off by yourself, and the next, you're acting like you care. So which is it? I'm exhausted trying to figure it out." Her eyes flashed with anger, challenging him to give her a straight answer, tired of the emotional whiplash he seemed to cause.

Draco held her gaze, his aristocratic features remaining composed, not a single muscle twitching to give away a hint of emotion. "I don't know how to deal with you, Granger," he admitted, his voice steady.

Hermione almost laughed at the absurdity of his statement, the tension between them so thick it seemed impossible to break. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" she challenged.

Draco hesitated, looking away from her for just a moment before his eyes met hers. "It means that I don't know whether we're supposed to acknowledge that the only reason I'm a free man and not rotting in Azkaban is because you testified on my behalf for my trial. I don't know how to talk to you because I'm still trying to figure out how to say thank you for, quite literally, saving my life."

The weight of his confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished, leaving an unexpected silence between them. Her mind returned to that fateful day in the Room of Requirements.

"That was nothing, Malfoy," Hermione replied, trying to keep her voice steady."I never needed you to thank me. It was the right thing to do."

"It was not nothing to me," Draco countered, his voice firmer now. "And it was certainly not nothing for my mother." He paused as if weighing his following words carefully. "And I'm sorry if you felt I undermined you in front of Theo. I'm just… not used to working with a partner."

His apology felt genuine, and the tension between them shifted, with anger and frustration giving way to a tentative understanding. It was clear that Draco was trying to bridge the gap between them, to navigate a terrain as unfamiliar to him as it was to her.

"Apology accepted," Hermione said, her tone softening as she met his gaze. "And I should probably apologise for blowing up at you. I think this whole Daily Prophet thing has really gotten to me."

For a moment, neither said a word. Then, out of nowhere, Draco started to laugh softly to himself.

"What?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing in confusion as she tried to understand the sudden shift in his demeanour.

He laughed even harder, shaking his head as if he couldn't quite believe it himself. "I mean, if you had asked me back in school whether I could ever see both of us taking accountability and actually apologising to each other, I would have laughed in your face."

Hermione chuckled. "Yeah, I guess times have changed."

"I guess they have," Draco agreed, finally taking a deep breath and letting himself relax.

"How is your mother, by the way?" Hermione asked, her tone genuine as she shifted the conversation.

"She's good," Draco responded with a faint smile. "She keeps herself busy by refurbishing the manor. It's her way of moving forward, I suppose." There was a softness in his voice when he spoke about her.

Hermione's mind momentarily flashed back to the last time she had been in the Manor, the chilling memories of Bellatrix's cruelty flickering through her thoughts like unwelcome ghosts. She forced herself to push the pain in her scar away, focusing on the present. "That's good to hear."

Draco glanced back down at the paperwork in front of him, clearly sensing the unease that had settled over Hermione. He didn't push. Instead, he chose to redirect the conversation.

"That was actually why I was at Mildred's furniture shop," he stated, his tone casual as he sifted through the evidence on his desk. He pulled out a photograph of Mildred, studying it intently as he continued, "My mother had been insisting on finding just the right piece for the manor, and I offered to help her out."

Hermione had almost forgotten that Draco had been to the shop prior to the murder. "Was she working when you went in?"

Hermione pulled out her own photo of Mildred from the file, holding it up to examine it closely. The girl in the picture was strikingly pretty, with an innocent charm. Her rosy cheeks radiated youth and vitality, starkly contrasting the lifeless, greyed body Hermione had seen earlier that day.

Draco's gaze lingered on the photo, "Yeah, she was great. Kind. She took the time to sit down with me and go through the floor plans of the manor, recommending designs. Not everyone treats ex-Death Eaters that way."

"Malfoy, if this case is too personal for you, we can go to Harry tomorrow and ask to switch with Zabini and Nott. It's still early days."

Draco offered a tight smile that barely masked the strain in his eyes. "No, it's okay. Three years of being an Auror means you get used to seeing people you've met turn up dead," he said, his gaze drifting back to the photo of Mildred.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, her worry evident in her voice as she searched his face for reassurance.

"Don't worry about me, Granger," Draco replied, giving her a small nod.

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted when Blaise opened the door, poking his head into the office. "Hey, Drake, you still up for a late-night pint?" he asked, a casual grin on his face.

Draco looked up, giving a slight nod as he stood to grab his jacket. "Yeah, I'll meet you and Theo there," he replied, gesturing for Blaise to go on without him.

Blaise nodded and glanced at Hermione with a friendly, teasing grin. "Care to join?" he quipped.

Hermione smiled in response but shook her head. "I'm exhausted, but thank you for the invitation. Maybe another time."

Blaise's grin widened, and he gave a quick nod before turning to leave, leaving Draco and Hermione to wrap up.

Draco gathered his belongings and tidied his desk, casting one last glance around the office before turning to Hermione. "Right, well, I'm off to meet some Slytherins. You should get some rest." He paused, a hint of concern on his face. "Are you sure you'll be okay getting home? With Rita Skeeter putting you on blast, I don't know if muggle transportation is the best idea."

Hermione gave him a reassuring smile, trying to ease his worry. "I'll be fine. See you tomorrow, Malfoy."

Draco nodded, a faint smile touching his lips as he made his way to the door. "See you tomorrow, Granger," he called back over his shoulder. As he paused at the threshold, he added with a smirk, "Oh, and thanks for the robes this morning. I'm glad we could keep that between us."

With a final nod, he stepped out, leaving Hermione with a small smile of her own.


After finishing up for the night and slipping out through the visitor's telephone box and onto the main street, she got into her car with a sigh of relief. The drive home was uneventful, her mind still processing the day's events. She finally reached her apartment around 1 a.m., the streets quiet and bathed in the soft glow of streetlights.

Hermione noticed a peculiar shimmer in her rear-view mirror as she was about to step out of her car. The distortion was subtle but unmistakable—a faint, wavering outline that hinted at someone trying to use a disillusionment charm. It was a poorly executed charm, and its effects did not quite blend seamlessly with the surroundings.

She froze. The clumsy charm revealed just enough to make her cautious. She hesitated, her hand still on the car door, scanning the dimly lit street for any sign of movement or threat, but Hermione knew all too well the risks of using magic in Muggle areas.

Trying to steady her nerves, she took a deep breath and resolved that her best course of action was to get inside her apartment, which was warded, as quickly and discreetly as possible. She moved with deliberate calm, opening the car door and stepping out while maintaining a facade of normalcy.

Her mind raced as she made her way toward the building, every sense on high alert for any sign that the assailant was following. She could feel the presence behind her, persistent and threatening. As she reached the entrance of her apartment building, she slowly pulled out her keys and fumbled with the lock, her heart pounding in her chest.

With deliberate calm, she opened the door and slipped inside, then swiftly turned the corner, drawing her wand and bracing herself for confrontation. Just as the door was about to close behind her, she heard it creak open again. The pursuer was close.

Holding her breath, Hermione waited an extra second, her grip tightening around her wand. Then, with a sudden burst of action, she jumped out from the corner and confronted her assailant.

"Expelliarmus!" Hermione exclaimed. The assailant's wand flew through the air and landed neatly in her hand as their disillusionment fell to reveal a male figure. Her eyes locked onto theirs.

"Cormac?" Hermione let out his name in disbelief, her eyes widening as she took in the familiar figure of Cormac McLaggen standing before her.

She struggled to comprehend the situation. "How did you find me?

"Oh, don't be like that, Minnie," Cormac said with an eerie smile, his tone dripping with a disturbing familiarity. "I mean, is that any way to greet a former boyfriend?"

"I told you to leave me alone," Hermione said through gritted teeth, her wand still raised defensively though her back was now pressed against the wall.

"Now, now, no need to get all worked up," Cormac replied with a chilling calmness, stepping closer to her. "I just came by to see you after seeing you on the new release of The Prophet."

Hermione's heart pounded in her chest as she froze, the danger of the situation becoming painfully clear. "Cormac. What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice steady but each word slowly emphasised.

"I missed you in Sydney, Hermione," he said, his tone darkening. "One day, we were perfect together, and the next, you up and left without a word. Not exactly how I'd expect the 'Brightest Witch of our Age' to end a relationship."

Hermione was speechless, her mind racing as memories of their time together flooded back—the manipulation, the cruel words, his aggressive possessiveness that made her skin crawl. She had endured it all for years, convinced that this was what she deserved, that no one else could ever love her. The realisation that he had used her self-hatred as a tool to keep him trapped in his twisted version of love.

But now, here he was, standing before her, the nightmare she had tried so hard to escape, closing in once again.

"It's my turn to ask questions," he paused, a chilling smile on his face, "Why would you leave me, Minnie? I love you."

"You never loved me, Cormac," Hermione said, her voice trembling slightly as she pleaded with him, hoping that he would accept it. But instead, she saw the familiar glint in his eye—the one that always preceded his seething anger. His expression darkened, and the smile that had been on his face twisted into something far more sinister.

"Of course I did, Minnie."

"No," she whispered, her voice barely audible as the moment's weight pressed down on her. "All you ever loved about me was a version of me you made up in your head. I am not that person."

She saw a flicker in his eyes, a brief moment of something softer, but it quickly twisted. "You are my 'Golden Girl,'" he said, his voice dripping with possessiveness as he looked at her like a trophy he deserved.

"We can work to get your parents back," he added, his tone calculated, knowing exactly how to strike where it would hurt the most. The mention of her parents sent a chill through her, the manipulation in his words clear. He was trying to use her deepest vulnerabilities against her, trying to pull her back into his grasp.

"My parents," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "Would hate you."

With a surge of determination, she pushed him away, creating space between them. Her stance was firm and unyielding despite the fear that threatened to creep as her eyes locked onto his.

"Is that the best you can do?" He taunted, belittling her.

She squared up to him, her gaze unwavering as she fought to keep her voice steady. "You ruined me."

Cormac almost looked taken aback.

"I left because you terrorised me," she continued, her voice trembling with the effort to stay controlled. "I left because you used my name to get what you wanted." Her voice cracked as she spoke. "I had to leave my parents in Australia with no memory of my existence just so that I could get away from you."

The final "you" came out with a force that caught him off guard. His expression momentarily shifted to one of surprise, as though he had never considered that he was the bad person.

"I did those things out of love," Cormac said, cautiously moving a step closer, his voice laced with a twisted sense of justification.

Hermione finally cracked, "What do I have to do for you to leave me alone!" she cried out desperately.

Cormac's eyes were dark and menacing as he stared straight into her soul. "Look me in the eyes and tell me to leave you alone," he demanded, his tone unyielding.

She took a shaky breath, closing her eyes to regain her composure. When she opened them, she matched his gaze. "Leave, me, alone," she said, her voice cold and final.

"Okay," he responded, his tone almost too calm as he turned and walked out of her building. The automatic lights flickered off as he exited, plunging her into darkness.

Once she heard the door click shut behind him, Hermione collapsed and sank to the floor, holding her face in her hands as the tears she had been fighting so hard to control finally began to fall freely.