At the sound of Hermione's voice, Draco looked up from his lunch, catching her widening eyes as she seemed to recall something from memory.

They had thus far eaten their meal in a relatively comfortable silence following his return from the cafeteria, making the interruption all the more unsettling.

"Malfoy, I just remembered today is the day Harry and Ron are going to Diagon Alley to follow up with Ingrid on a lead Livingston brought in."

He stared blankly at her for several lingering moments. "Are you going to tell me about the lead or would you prefer I sit here and throw guesses out for the next hour?" he asked sharply, shoving aside the feeling that Hermione had moved one step ahead on the case without him.

There was a particularly tortured silence as Hermione gave him a look of displeasure, delicately clearing her throat and beginning with a false kindness, "If you would have allowed me to speak, I would have told you that Livingston picked up on a rather interesting development while he was staking out MacNair Manor last night. A sizeable package from the apothecary was delivered to the residence by one of Miss Argo's tawny owls."

With a bored expression, Draco drawled, "And..."

"And what? It's the most movement that's occurred there in over a week and therefore I think you'll agree it's worth following up on. In case you've forgotten, there's a murder that we've been tasked to solve. And unlike you, I'm committed to solving it."

He snorted derisively. "There you go again making assumptions about me. What makes you think I'm not interested in following up on a lead?" He brusquely tapped his fork against the table while boring holes into her head with his stormy eyes. "I'm pretty sure I'm the one who said we should look in the ancestral archives at the Manor to see if we can find anything relating to the crest. You, however," he muttered with an impassioned glare, "what exactly have you done?"

She narrowed her eyes and scoffed. "If you would have waited long enough to have a civilized conversation with me, I would have told you what my plans are. You're not the only one who made a discovery in the evidence room, Malfoy." She rolled her eyes, making a familiar noise of impatience.

He watched her with increased agitation as she gestured to the empty lunch containers littering their workspace.

While Malfoy had been in the cafeteria retrieving their food, she suffered a moment of unexpected pity for the wizard and transfigured a sizable workspace and comfortable chairs from his feeble Ministry offerings. An act of generosity she now regretted.

"Let's clean this up and I can begin telling you all about it."

A challenging scowl donned his face. "There you go again making assumptions, Granger. What makes you think I'm done with my lunch?" Further moving to educate her on the subject of her lack of consideration, he looked down his nose dismissively. "In the more sophisticated sectors of society, lunch is an unrushed endeavor that often includes dessert and a digestif."

Hermione stifled a laugh. "You're acting as if this is the French countryside. We don't have time for your theatrics, Malfoy. If you're looking around for a house-elf to clear your dishes and offer you the menu's featured creme-brulee, you'll be sorely disappointed to learn they've all been liberated."

The topic of house-elves and her incessant laughter only served to further grate his nerves. Like a petulant child, he emphatically unfurled a small container from his plastic to-go bag and proceeded to tuck into a delectable-looking chocolate torte with unnecessary melodrama, making no effort to fashion a response. Hermione watched the humorous display, appreciating the entertainment it provided.

After the third or fourth bite in relative peace, Malfoy broke the silence with his feigned indifference. "I bought this for us to share, but seeing as you've demonstrated a rather peculiar animosity toward anything pleasurable, I guess I'll just have to finish it by myself."

She immediately schooled her features so as not to reveal her utter shock at this unlikely admission. "Is that so?" she asked lamely, her already overactive brain working overtime trying to think of a reason...any reason...why the temperamental wizard may have done something for her that could be mistaken as kindness. Coming up with nothing, she added, "You weren't worried my filthy Muggleborn germs would contaminate it?"

As soon as the words escaped her mouth she knew it had been a monumental mistake to say them. And she didn't even need to see the look on Malfoy's face to confirm it. She chastised herself for the grievous error a thousand times in a matter of seconds and then for good measure, a thousand times more. Their fragile relationship already stood on unstable ground that at any given moment was in danger of collapsing-it certainly didn't need any encouragement.

"It's nice to know you think so little of me." His voice was filled with bitter resentment that caused something to twist in her gut.

"I shouldn't have said that," she muttered, barely above a whisper. She looked down, staring at the table, and sighed.

He glanced up from his cake with a pained expression she had the good fortune not to witness. "You wouldn't have said it had you not thought it."

And then the span of a minute or perhaps an hour, or possibly a day passed between them in silence. Until finally she heard him clear his throat. "For whatever it's worth, I no longer think that about you. Your blood, I mean. Haven't for a long time. Probably even longer than you'd ever believe."

Hearing the robotic tone of his voice, she finally glanced up and met his earnest eyes, nodding imperceptibly. "For whatever it's worth, I believe you."

Draco swallowed hard, looking away.

"I caught you eyeing my cake, Granger." He moved to slide what remained of the torte across the table in her direction, reaching to pull a clean fork for her from the plastic bag. "Here, finish it," he demanded. "We don't want your blood sugar getting low and causing you to become ill-tempered. That is to say, more ill-tempered than you already are."

She smiled brightly. A real, genuine smile, like the ones she'd flashed Harry and Ron a million times. "Thank you," she sighed, suddenly feeling a heavy weight rise from her shoulders. "Admittedly, chocolate is a weakness of mine."

She dragged the plate closer and moved to take her first bite before pausing.

"No, Granger, I didn't poison it."

She shook her head, laughing heartily. "At least not this time, right?"

The playful banter oddly flowed quite easily between them, perhaps even too easy given their dreadful history.

"I just wanted to say, this was nice," she added in a more serious tone, gesturing down at the cake and then to the space between them. "I definitely prefer this version of us."

He nodded his head blithely in agreement. "Hurry and finish so you can fill me in on your lead. Not to mention, I'm sure you'd like to wrap things up here so you can get back to your very busy Saturday plans."

Her cheeks flushed a light pink, as she recalled how utterly un-busy she was that afternoon before storming into the Ministry. And not to mention, how un-busy she would continue to be that evening, apart from some light research she planned to do on the Ancient Egyptians.

She forced a smile and feigned acknowledgment. It was too late now to go back on her lie. "I'm supposed to meet up with some friends, but now that this case has become more pressing, I may end up having to work through the night."

"Same," he lied, reaching around to collect their discarded lunch containers and proffering his hand out for her empty dessert plate to add to the others. He stood to toss the lot of it into the trash receptacle behind Granger's desk and returned with a renewed interest in hearing about what she had discovered in the evidence room.

They spent the next half hour exchanging theories and ideas about everything from the stolen flower to the forgotten brooch, only stopping briefly to grab a spot of Earl Grey tea.

Malfoy was a remarkable wealth of knowledge when they discussed the possible apothecary lead. Hermione was surprised to learn that like her, he had continued to hone his craft in potion-making long after their departure from Hogwarts.

At one point in time, Hermione thought she might pursue a career as a Healer, only to end up following Ron and Harry into law enforcement at the DMLE. After all, it seemed a travesty after all those years together to break up the Golden Trio.

Collaboration flowed easily between them but before long they reached a point where until they had access to the outside resources they needed, there wasn't much more they could add to the topic. So, with a plan outlined that Hermione would research the Ancient Egyptians in the books at her flat, and Malfoy would explore the ancestral archives at the Manor for information about the family crest, they found themselves standing together at the threshold to the door, ready to depart.

"I think we got a good start," she began, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "At least it's more than I thought we'd have when I woke up this morning." She glanced up, startled to find him standing so close.

"It's as good a start as any," he echoed, shoving both hands into his pants pockets and looking down only to discover a smattering of freckles fanning out across the bridge of her nose that he'd never noticed before. To be fair, he couldn't recall a time when he'd ever stood that close to Hermione Granger. Well, not counting the time in third year when she'd punched him in the face.

"Alright then." He sighed, moving to take another step toward the door. But for some reason or another, his feet stood rooted to the spot. "So, I guess we'll get on with it then. You researching, that is. And me-researching."

"Yes, I think that's what we agreed on." She felt her face heat up at the cumbersome exchange, eyeing the door in her peripheral. "Ok, then." She turned on her heel and proceeded into the hallway, pivoting to wait for Malfoy to follow suit.

When they were almost halfway to the lift, she remembered she'd neglected to thank him for picking up lunch.

"Thank you for grabbing my lunch today. I owe you now-so next time it's on me."

He flashed her a mirth-filled smirk. "Careful, I may just hold you to that."

As they waited in heavy silence for the lift to arrive, he mulled over in his head an idea that would arguably be his biggest error in judgment to date. It defied explanation that he would even consider such a thing, but while Granger was an utter horror on a good day, she had been slightly less than intolerable that day. And not to mention, they had a heap of research to complete and by way of simple logic, more collaboration would be needed in the coming days. That notion itself regrettably led him to the conclusion that it would be beneficial to the outcome of the case that they work on the research component together rather than apart. Regrettably, he didn't pause to heed the numerous mental red flags that warned against it.

"I was thinking, I may need your help perusing the archives at the Manor at some point. That's to say, the library is quite vast and..."

Her eyes lit up at the mention of the vast library. How typically Granger, he thought.

"It may be in the best interest of the case to have both of us working you know, in tandem at some point." There was a long pause before he added, "Like tonight, for instance."

The words hung stiffly between them for so long Draco began to second-guess even proposing the absurd idea. That was until Granger finally spoke.

"I mean, it certainly makes sense. You know, for the betterment of the case, that we maximize the time we spend partnering up on the different aspects of our research. And I suppose it would be smart to get a jump start on everything. Of course, seeing as you're simply reading and I am as well-it makes sense that we'd be reading together rather than apart..."

When she finally came up for a breath, Malfoy seized the opportunity to cut in.

"Am I suppose to assume that's a yes then?"

They both gracelessly stepped forward as the lift arrived, securing the very same positions inside they had earlier in the day. It was far warmer than he'd remembered it being and he made a mental note to notify the Maintenance Department of the defective cooling system.

Hermione flushed, whether from the excessive heat or something else.

"I mean, I do think a nice refresh at my flat would do me well." She gestured toward her disheveled ensemble from her hurried morning. "Plus, I'd need to pick up a few books first and..."

"I'll lower the wards for you to come by at 6," he interrupted hoarsely. "That will give you plenty of time to shower and grab your things. And if you'd like, we can have dinner...you know, while we work."

"Right. While we work," she affirmed, casually adjusting her bag across her chest.

"That's settled then," Malfoy said, stepping out into the Atrium and striding at a comfortable pace toward the Ministry Floo with Hermione close at his side.

As they approached the fireplaces, she stopped abruptly and turned toward him with a rather amusing smirk. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think I'm starting to grow on you."

He peered down at her with the beginnings of an objectionable grin. "Indeed you are...much like bubotuber pus."