"I trust you know why I called you in here this morning." Kingsley's booming voice caused her to sit unflinching in her chair.

"I have a feeling I may know why, yes."

She was going for wry humor, but the look on Kingsley's face said this was most certainly not the day for it.

"Miss Granger, you do understand the pressure I'm under from both the Ministry and the wizarding community to draw this case to a close, do you not?"

"Of course, sir. I assure you we are working around the clock to exact an expeditious conclusion."

"Right. Well, you must also understand how poorly yesterday's incident reflected on the overall direction of the investigation then."

"Yes, sir." Her head dropped down to where her fingers knotted in her lap. Inclining her chin, she added, "However, yesterday proved to be only a minor setback...if you can even call it that. We were able to retrieve some valuable information from the property right before things began to unravel."

"Indeed it could have ended there, Miss Granger. However, the reckless plan that followed, executed by Mr. Malfoy, caused an event that could have lead to dire consequences."

"Malfoy?" she asked with marked surprise evident in her voice. "Sorry, I'm not entirely sure I follow."

"The pressure to have him removed from this case as a result of yesterday's little performance, Miss Granger, is immense."

"I see. And why exactly is that?"

"The Wizengamot doesn't take lightly to endangering the lives of our DMLE Head and one of our most valuable Hit Wizards. Surely you can understand how charging into a property occupied with two hardened criminals without the proper Ministry approval nor so much as a viable apprehension strategy would be profoundly problematic. They would like for me to expel Mr. Malfoy from the case immediately."

"With all due respect, Mr. Shacklebolt, Malfoy is the sole reason I am able to sit here before you today. He saved my life, not put it in danger. If anything, I am to blame for this whole mess. It was Malfoy who tried to stop me from trying to apprehend MacNair before back-up could arrive. Not the other way around."

His bewildered eyes pierced through her stoic façade, looking for any sign of untruth. "I see."

For a brief moment, their eyes locked in a showdown, Kingsley absorbing the unanticipated admission and Hermione trying desperately to hold back her outrage.

"While I'm happy to hear that Mr. Malfoy is appearing to be the unsung champion of the day, I am deeply displeased by the assertion of your role in this catastrophic disaster. If your version of events is true...and I've no reason to believe otherwise...then your actions were foolhardy. They went against every measure of training you received here at the Ministry. This type of vigilante heroics may have worked well for you, Mister Potter, and Mister Weasley during the war, but the war is over. This cannot ever happen again. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Minister."

Understanding his clipped tone as an obvious sign of adjournment, she rose to stand.

"Shall I send Mr. Malfoy down to receive his notice of dismissal?" she asked, the question an overt act of rebellion for the Ministry's open bias against her partner.

"That won't be necessary, Miss Granger."

She nodded her head curtly, politely masking her displeasure as she turned to walk away.

She barely remembered the walk back to her office, her mind reeling from the Wizengamot's appalling assumptions about Malfoy. Admittedly, she had drawn her own erroneous conclusions about the wizard during the past week, but quickly amended them following their subsequent interactions. If nothing else, this gave her insight into the battle he had been fighting against post-war prejudices. Something she knew nothing about.

"What did Kingsley have to say?"

Startled, she looked up to see Malfoy still sitting at his desk. In her fugue, she had nearly forgotten about his presence in their office.

"Just the usual follow-up," she replied blandly, notably leaving out the part where the Wizengamot blamed him for the entire debacle. "Have you talked to Harry yet about getting a Portkey to France."

"He just came by. Said he'd bring it over to the Manor later today. You sure you haven't had a change of heart?"

"I'm sure," she said distractedly, nearly toppling over her desk in her haste to feign busyness.

He looked at her questioningly. They'd only been partners for the better part of a week, but he was certain her current behavior could be categorized as notably out of character.

"What time do you want to head to the Manor?" he asked, leaning back in his chair, observing the evasive witch who was currently watering her Germander plant for the second time that day.

"What's that? Oh, any time really."

"Well, I'm just finishing up with a letter I've written to Egyptian Minister Hegazy. We can depart right after I return from the owlery."

"Mmmmm-ok, I'll just wrap up some paperwork while you work on that," she replied, vacantly staring out the charmed office window.

He watched as she made no move to wrap up any paperwork nor inquire as to why he'd be writing to the Egyptian Minister.

"Is everything ok, Granger?"

"Hmmmm? Oh, sorry. Just a little preoccupied this morning with everything that happened yesterday is all."

"Granger, look at me."

Startled, her eyes snapped over to where he sat in his desk chair, stonily upright with undisguised skepticism. "Ever since you came back from Shacklebolt's office you've been a bit off. Did something happen?"

"Of course not." A fierce blush crawled mercilessly up her neck as she inwardly cursed his perceptiveness.

"You are a terrible liar, you know that?"

"So I've been told," she managed, just as a winded Ron peeked his head into her office and saved her from the conversation she was willfully trying to avoid.

"'Mione! Am I glad to see you!" He darted over to where she stood by the window and enveloped her in a seemingly endless embrace, mumbling about how happy he was to see that she was ok into her mass of winding curls.

Draco cleared his throat, causing Ron to jolt backward. "Bloody hell, Malfoy! What are you doing here?"

"I should be asking you the same thing. You are in my office, after all."

"What is he talking about?" he asked Hermione, looking with charged bewilderment from one to the other.

She shrugged apprehensively. "Malfoy and I share an office...at least we will be sharing one until our work on this case concludes."

Ron huffed as his face contorted into a bitter scowl. "Isn't that convenient?"

"Actually, now that you mention it, it is highly convenient," Malfoy began, with a gratuitous smile plastered across his face. "What with all the time Hermione and I have been spending together recently." He leaned back confidently, lacing his hands behind his head.

Ron's face reddened, causing Hermione to place a firm hand on his arm. "Ronald, don't let him get to you," she muttered, only loud enough for him to hear.

"I'm telling you, he's a slimy little git," he hush-whispered. "Truth be told, he's probably the reason you got struck by that curse."

Once the words were out, he could tell by the look on her face that it was the wrong thing to say.

"Ronald Weasley," she began in a deathly low voice. "I'll have you know, Malfoy is the one who saved me. Why is that so difficult to understand?"

"Yeah, so he says. Did anyone else see this alleged saving or was it just some cock and bull story he told you to cover his own arse?"

"I will not have this conversation with you right now, Ronald." She glanced up at Malfoy who continued to observe them with a rather pleased look on his face.

Ron frowned over his shoulder at Malfoy. "Fine. Meet me for lunch at the Leaky and we can talk about all this. 'Mione you know I just don't want you getting hurt and Malfoy hasn't exactly been what you'd call innocent."

"I can't meet you for lunch, Ronald. Malfoy and I have work to do. Which might I add, we were just about to leave when you came in. We'll have to do it some other time."

His shoulders slackened a fraction of an inch at her refusal. "Ok, but this isn't the end of this."

He leaned over and gave her a fleeting kiss on her cheek before turning and trudging toward the door. Malfoy followed his retreat with a smug grin and laser focus, only diverting his attention to Hermione when Ron was firmly out the door.

"What?" he asked, feigning innocence when he met her murderous glare.

"Why, Malfoy? Why do you rile him up like it's some kind of sport?"

"Why do you kiss your ex-boyfriend when you have plainly stated you've broken up?"

"What?" Her face heated, whether with discomfort or indignation she wasn't quite sure. "Who I do or do not kiss is none of your business."

It was a weak reply and she knew it, but he had completely caught her off-guard with his comment and it was the first retort that came to mind.

"Oh, but it very much is my business if we're to be convincing my parents we're a couple in a matter of hours. I can't have you going around snogging any which wizard, now can I?"

"I'd hardly call that snogging," she huffed, folding her arms tightly across her chest, her line of sight cutting from his chuffed expression over to the wall clock. "Besides, our little charade doesn't begin until tonight, so I guess by your watch I still have roughly 7 hours to continue snogging whomever I'd like."

Admittedly, there wasn't exactly a long trail of candidates lined up outside her door, but he didn't have to know that.

"Well, then I guess it's too bad for you that the next seven hours will be spent with me as that doesn't leave much time for you to catch up on all that snogging."

He looked at her like a predator toying with its prey...only a predator couldn't manage such an artful smirk.

She had absolutely no idea whatsoever how the conversation got so effortlessly twisted from her lecturing him about provoking Ron to the topic of snogging, but she was deeply discomfited by it. "Well, seeing as we have hours of work ahead of us, we should get to it."

The widening grin on his face said the abrupt change of subject signified his victory and he'd be a fool not to see it as such.

"Whatever you say, Granger." His chair scraped the floor as he rose to stand. "I'll be right back." He grabbed the scroll off his desk and tucked it under his arm. Seeing her confused expression, he added, "The owlery, Granger. Keep up." As he reached the doorway, he turned. "Meet me at the lift in ten."

Her eyes narrowed, still flustered by the awkward exchange and the audacity of the nettlesome wizard to order her around. If she had half a mind she'd leave him waiting at the lifts.