A/N- Sorry for the longer-than-usual wait for this update! Hopefully this extra-LONG chapter makes up for it! :-)

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When she stepped into the receiving room of the Manor, she fully expected to see Malfoy standing there waiting to greet her. What she didn't expect was his house-elf Baron dressed in a frilly white cooking apron, covered from head to toe in what looked to be baking flour.

"Good evening, Miss," he greeted cheerfully, bowing low to the floor and leaving a dusting of white powder in his wake. "Master asks Baron to brings yous to the Conservatory where yous be having dinner!" His bulbous eyes crinkled at the corners with the enthusiastic smile he flashed her.

"Oh, ok," she stammered, reaching to grab his outstretched hand and wincing when she felt a rubbery substance spread across her fingers. "Baron, why are you covered in powder?" she asked while following him through the curtained corridor.

"Not powder, Miss. Baron is making yous a special dinner. Master's request."

"Really? A special dinner, you say? Can you tell me what it is you're making?"

"No. Master says it's secret so Baron doesn't say." He tottered around the corner leading her up the stairs and down the narrow pathway toward the imposing door of Malfoy's potion's room. As they came to a halt, he looked up at her with a reverence mirroring that reserved for his master. "Does the Missus want Baron to walk her inside?"

"Oh, no, Baron. That's not necessary. I can let myself in. Thank you." She let go of his hand and attempted to covertly wipe the goo from her fingers before reaching for the knob. When she noticed out of the corner of her eye that the elf remained at her side, staring up at her with undisguised devotion, she turned toward him. "Would you like to come inside or-"

"No. Baron is leaving now. Your dinner wills be ready soon." And with a pop he vanished into thin air.

"That was strange," she muttered under her breath before opening the door and stepping inside.

While the dimly lit potions room appeared empty, the unmistakable aroma of Sleeping Draught awakened her keen senses as she slowly wandered along the wall lined with cauldrons. She glanced around with trepidation, surprised to find no evidence of Malfoy manning his concoctions.

Nearing the end of the long counter, she chanced a glance at the swirling light purple liquid brewing over a modest flame.

Indeed, Sleeping Draught.

Interesting.

Malfoy hadn't mentioned not being able to sleep when he'd condemned her earlier for her exhausted state.

As she approached the double doors, she stiffened, endeavoring a deep breath to prepare herself for whatever may lie ahead.

She rapped on the door twice and waited for Malfoy to open it, for the first time wondering if she'd made a mistake in coming. When she heard shuffling from the other side, she squared her shoulders realizing it was far too late to turn back.

As before, the double doors slowly glided open, only this time instead of blinding sunlight gleaming from within, a thin blanket of darkness enveloped the room, illuminated only by the flickering of hundreds of bluebell flares floating throughout the space like summer fireflies.

She almost didn't notice Malfoy standing there until he cleared his throat, her eyes too preoccupied with the eerie shadows cast across the shiny tiles of the Conservatory.

"Malfoy! You startled me!" she said, placing her hand over her heart.

When he laughed, the light from one of the flames reflected in haunting waves off his face, causing an unsettling feeling to rise in her chest as he stepped forward.

"Wait!" she said, taking a step back. "I didn't expect to see you lurking in some shadowy corner shrouded in darkness. It's a bit ominous if I'm being honest."

Panic suddenly welled up in her as she considered how very alone she was in the company of a Slytherin who had an admittedly murky past.

"Would you stop with the theatrics, Granger. The Conservatory is not ominous It's peaceful and relaxing this time of night. Here, have a look." He grabbed her by the hand and tugged her with determination into the middle of the room, all while feeling the strained pull of her resistance every step of the way.

When she looked up to admonish him for the rather unpleasant manhandling, her eyes caught on a sight just beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows that caused her to gasp.

A fiery bolt of lightning ignited the night sky, crackling with untamed energy.

She gaped in astonishment several awestruck moments as her heart found a more suitable pace before a thunderous rumbling could be felt under her feet.

"Malfoy," she sighed under her breath, anxiously scanning the striking panoramic view. "I've never seen a storm rolling in like this before."

She glanced over, surprised to see he wasn't watching the commotion outside, rather his eyes were fixed on her.

"I told you, I come here to find peace. Even when the world outside is in utter turmoil, you can still find tranquility within these walls."

"Wait, is that why you have it so dark in here?" she asked, just realizing. "Then you must have known it was going to storm."

"I had a hunch, yes. Thought you might like to see the spectacle from this vantage point. Was I wrong to assume you'd enjoy it?"

Another flash of blinding light burst through the Conservatory's dimly lit backdrop, this time forming a glowing pattern of wild branches jutting out like a web in every direction.

Hermione took a measured step closer to the window counting slowly to herself. "One- two- three- four-"

Just then a clap of thunder unleashed a resounding grumble in the distance that shook the Conservatory with a perilous shudder.

"My father used to tell me you could determine how far away the storm was by counting the seconds between the lightning and thunder. This one looks to be only a couple kilometers from here."

Draco inched forward sliding his hands into his pockets. "It looks to be a rather significant storm. Glad we're in here as opposed to out there."

She hummed, mesmerized by the developing scene unfolding outside.

The wind began to pick up, the force of it causing tree branches to sway menacingly.

An anxious excitement welled up inside her thinking about the impending upheaval drawing ever closer.

She turned her head back to where Malfoy stood, eyes widening when she realized for the first time that he was wearing his lounge clothes much like the other evening- low-hung pyjama pants and a fitted shirt that showcased a bit too much of his muscular arms for her already undulating pulse.

She swallowed hard before glancing around. "I can see why you love this space. It suits you well," she added, suddenly captivated by the Conservatory's mysterious glow and noting the stark difference from the last time she'd stood there.

"Would you like to have a seat and enjoy a glass of wine while we wait for Baron to arrive with dinner?" He gestured toward the sofa while searching her face for any sign of remaining reluctance.

"Sure."

She eyed him cautiously while slowly migrating over to the large crescent settee they occupied on her previous visit. She removed her beaded bag and placed it at her feet as she dropped onto a cushion at the far end of the couch. Still unsure of what to make of the slightly odd occasion, she decided to ensure some professional distance between them.

But despite the ample available space she afforded him, Malfoy sat down next to her, reaching over to retrieve the opened bottle of Chianti and pouring two glasses full before leaning in to hand her one.

"From the Malfoy reserves in Italy."

"Oh, thank you." She raised her glass to gently clink it against his before adding with a nervous stammer, "To our unlikely partnership- may it continue to overcome adversity and flourish against all odds."

"Ever the eloquent pragmatist," he said, drawing a long sip of wine as she did the same.

"Mmmmm, this is nice." She swirled the burgundy liquid in her glass, drawing the aroma in lightly through her nostrils. "The complex layers of cherry are a nice touch."

He appraised her over the rim of his glass. "I thought you may like it. It will go well with dinner."

"And that is-"

His mouth quirked up on one side. "Patience, Granger. It's something that required a fair bit of research on my part. Hopefully, I got it right."

"You have me intrigued."

He chuckled. "Please, it's nothing fancy. As I said in my post- a casual dinner. Hence, the casual attire." He pointed down with a wry smile at his lounge clothes.

"I see. Well, you have me curious as to why you may have been inclined to invite me over for such a laid-back affair. I have to admit, I was a bit surprised. I didn't expect to see you again until Monday."

His contented expression transformed into something more earnest as he set his wine glass back on the table.

He leaned back, angling his body toward her and placing his arm over the back of the couch.

"You deserve to know the truth," he began, causing her to suddenly stiffen.

She held her breath for what seemed like an eternity as her traitorous brain hoped for things she would deny if ever asked.

"I asked you here tonight as part of a peace offering."

He paused to allow the words time to be properly absorbed.

So it wasn't a date, she thought, inwardly deflating at the realisation.

"Look, I'm appalled by the way I spoke to you today. Embarrassed, in fact." He hung his head before looking away with a sigh. "I want you to know that I was wrong for having made those vulgar implications about you and Cormac."

His eyes suddenly flitted over to meet hers, his expression revealing an uncharacteristic vulnerability that only drew her in deeper.

When he saw her nod her head infinitesimally, it compelled him to continue. "Truthfully, I don't really know what got into me. And I've given it a fair bit of thought."

He pressed his lips together, running a hand through his hair. "I can only surmise that my distaste for Cormac caused me to act in a way unbecoming a gentleman and for that I am sorry. It's just I have such high regard for you as a witch that when-" When he saw her eyes widen with surprise, he fought off a grin. "What? You've grown on me a fair amount over the past week. Like bubotuber pus, remember?"

She laughed, her cheeks flushing a charming shade of pink. "Right, well, you sure do have an unusual way of showing it."

"That's why I'm telling you I overreacted. I just didn't feel like someone like him deserves someone like you and I believe I took my frustration out on the wrong person. But, regardless of the reason, you didn't deserve to be spoken to like that and I'm sorry. If you'll let me, I'd like to make it up to you."

She sat there in stunned silence mulling over everything she'd just heard, her head spinning not only with the unlikely admission that he held her in high regard, but also his seemingly heartfelt apology.

His remorseful expression suddenly morphed into something akin to concern as the seconds bled into minutes while he awaited her reply.

Little did he know, she'd been rendered defenseless against denying him anything long before that moment.

She discreetly cleared her throat before fashioning her reply. "First of all, you don't owe me anything. I've said and done some things I'm not proud of as well. I think it would be more than fair to just call a truce."

"While that may be the Griffindor way of handling things, I have come up with something I deem to be a better resolution."

Her eyebrows inched upward as his arm reached over the side of the couch to retrieve something from the end table. When an envelope came into view, she looked at him questioningly.

"I've managed to procure something I thought you might enjoy," he said, handing it to her.

She set down her glass, reluctantly holding out her hand as she looked up at him with skepticism. "Whatever this is, I'm certain it was unnecessary." With a contented grin, she slowly unfolded the flap and slid the piece of parchment upward until she could read what it said.

Her eyes widened in astonishment as she stared up at him. "Malfoy! How did you get this?"

"I have my ways." He shrugged smugly, holding back his satisfaction at her enthusiastic reaction.

"It's- I mean- I don't know what to say. Bridget Clausius is my favorite author, and not to mention potioneer. She's- she's brilliant. In fact, I'm currently reading Perfectly Prepared Potions. How did you know? Or better yet, how- how did you get her to agree to meet with me?" Her words sounded more like incohesive rambling as she looked at him expectantly.

"I already told you. I have my ways. Since you are a fellow avid potioneer, I figured you might like to meet the best in the field. And you'll note, the invitation is for you and a friend. So you may bring anyone you'd wish to accompany you to the private book signing."

She glanced down at the parchment before peering up and surveying his face. "Malfoy, this was completely unnecessary. You shouldn't feel that anything more than your apology was required to make amends. You've rendered me speechless- I mean, it's perfect. I don't know what else to say other than thank you."

He inclined his head, reaching out to rest his hand on her shoulder. "I know it doesn't undo how I spoke to you, but I hope it at least conveys how sorry I am."

She nodded imperceptibly, feeling the heat from his hand radiating through her jumper and down her arm. The irrational side of her brain urged her to drop her cheek to his hand, but logic reminded her of their fragile professional relationship, causing her to instead look down at the envelope in her lap.

She wished she had the courage to ask him to come along with her- to tell him that he was her first and only choice for such an occasion- but seeing the date on the invitation, hesitation filled her mind thinking the case would likely long since be concluded by then and they'd have already gone their separate ways.

So instead, she slid the card back into its place, peering up at him with gratitude. "This was remarkably thoughtful of you." She reached up to rest her hand on his and placed it on the couch cushion between them, fidgeting with the signet ring on his finger for a moment before looking up and glancing around.

By then the rain began to batter the Conservatory with a punishing force that caused a blurred layer of film to paint the windows' exterior. Just as Malfoy had said, despite the torrent outside, a serenity enveloped the space. She momentarily wondered if they were an actual couple, if this is how they would spend their Saturday nights. Shaking the absurd thought from her mind, she added, "Do you think we're getting any closer to solving the case?"

The off-handed question shifted the rather intimate moment causing Draco to sit back, creating space between them.

"Leave it to you to turn a relaxing evening into work," he mused, with a hint of irritation. "Yes, Granger, I think we are getting closer to solving the case," he deadpanned, moving to pick his wine glass up off the coffee table and taking a sip. "But I would have thought we'd be a bit further along in our evening before you reduced our conversation to work drivel."

She mimicked his action by picking up her own glass and taking a drink of her wine. "Well, what would you have me talk about, the weather?" She quirked an eyebrow at him as she watched the steady stream of rain trail down the windows.

He followed her line of sight to study the bedlam outside. "I was only thinking a topic better suited for a Saturday night than a Monday morning. But perhaps you're simply wound up so tightly that your mind is incapable of such trivialities." He grinned over the rim of his glass to gauge her reaction and as expected she crossed her arms defensively over her lap.

"I am not wound up tightly," she argued, narrowing her eyes. "I just assumed that since we are partners you might like to go over-"

"Partners." He sniffed into his glass, taking another drink. "And here I thought we were moving more toward the concept of friendship- but what do I know." He shrugged indifferently, setting his glass back down on the table.

"I mean- well, I wasn't aware that you were in the throes of considering me a friend. But, I wouldn't be opposed to the notion now that I know you're offering." She inclined her head, studying him.

He leaned back, placing his arm along the outer edge of the couch. "I don't see the harm in entertaining the idea for one evening." He smirked, plucking a fleck of lint from his pyjama pants. "Besides, I think you will find I'm rather agreeable when not subjected to your work-related swottiness."

"You, agreeable? I find that difficult to bel-"

"Master Draco! Is yous ready to eat?" Without warning, Baron popped into view at his side. "I's can set the dining table for yous if yous like."

Draco sat upright. "No, Baron. We'll take our food right here if you please." He made quick work of nudging the coffee table forward to make space at their feet, then cast a Lumos Maxima on the bluebell flares causing their glow to intensify. Hermione watched with intrigue as he tossed several pillows from the sofa down onto the floor before glancing back up at her. "What? I told you it's a casual evening. Therefore, we're making ourselves comfortable right here."

She inwardly tittered at the thought of Draco Malfoy eating his meal from the floor but given the evening's already uncharacteristic events, she didn't bother questioning it. Baron Apparated away and returned only moments later wearing a tall white chef's hat and carrying a large pizza on an oversized tray above his head. Hermione wanted to laugh at the sight, but decided against it considering how seriously he was taking the endeavor.

"You can set that here," Draco said politely, shuffling their glasses aside to make space for their dinner.

As Baron placed the tray down on the coffee table, Hermione looked over to Draco with a wry grin. "Pizza? You do know this is arguably the most primary staple in the Muggle world, do you not?"

"As I said, I do my research," he mused, grabbing a stack of paper napkins from the tray and setting them in front of their respective seat cushions along with a can of unopened soda. "Thank you, Baron. You've really outdone yourself."

Baron bowed low to the ground, stumbling as he grappled with his chef's hat just in time to prevent it from slipping from his head. "Baron is happy to make your date with the Missus exactly how yous asked." He looked over at his master, his mouth concealing a contented grin, before Disapparating on the spot.

Malfoy shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I apologize if he's made you uncomfortable. He's been hard-pressed to play matchmaker ever since your first night at the Manor." He looked over to find Hermione eyeing the spread with intrigue. "Is this alright?" he asked, gesturing toward the food. "You're not opposed to pizza, are you?"

She shook her head, her pensive expression turning into a bright smile. "No, I'm not opposed to pizza. In fact, I'll have you know, it is one of my favorite indulgences. I'm simply curious to know how you of all people discovered it- you don't strike me as the type who frequents a Muggle Trattoria on a Saturday night."

He chuckled, lowering himself to the floor and patting the pillow next to him. "Make yourself comfortable."

She toed off her trainers and dropped onto the pillow in front of her, crossing her legs and shifting to get adjusted. When he didn't reply, she added, "So, I'm just to sit here and wonder then?"

He grabbed a napkin for her and placed it on her lap, flashing her a crooked grin. "I'd be surprised to learn there's anyone who attended Hogwarts that didn't know about your guilty pleasure." When she shot him a bewildered stare, he added, "Don't act like you didn't return from every holiday blathering on and on about Tony's Pizzeria."

Her eyes widened in abject horror. "Wait, you heard that?"

He laughed. "Anyone within a 10-kilometer radius of the Great Hall heard you prattling on about the smoky flavor of their wood-burning stove." He watched as her face reddened and she moved to cover it with her hand. "Oh, but that's not all."

She glanced up through parted fingers. "There's more?"

He chuckled at her embarrassment. "Did you know the yeastiness of their crust comes from their use of a rare Italian beer?"

She lowered her hand, revealing an abashed smile. "Ok, I get it. I was a bit too enthusiastic about Tony's pizza. But that was years ago. I can't believe you remembered."

His face flushed slightly as he reached over to grab the spatula, tentatively placing a slice of pizza on the plate in front of her. "You'll have to let me know how Baron fared in duplicating the recipe."

"Wait, what? This is Tony's pizza?"

"To the best of my knowledge, yes," he answered nonchalantly, serving himself a slice of pizza as if he didn't know that little tidbit of information would fill her with pure unadulterated joy.

"But how'd you get the recipe? I tried for years, but the owner said if he told me it'd be bad for business."

"I have my ways, Granger. But you shouldn't concern yourself with that- just tell me if it tastes the same." He pointed down at her plate for her to take a bite.

She picked up her slice of pizza, eyeing him apprehensively while he watched her bring it toward her mouth. Her lips parted, teeth closing around the first bite. As the mixture of savory sauce and cheese rolled across her tongue, she closed her eyes, humming. "Oh, Gods. It's been ages since I've had this."

He waited while she chewed, observing the look of delight on her face. "So, is that a yes then?"

She covered her mouth loosely with her napkin as she swallowed. "I would like to know how you pulled this off. I mean, I've been eating this pizza since I was a little girl. My mother would always say it tasted like home." When Draco's brows drew together in confusion, she clarified, "I think she just meant we always ate at Tony's as a family and nothing else ever tasted quite the way their pizza did when we were together." She sighed at the recollection, her expression growing wistful as she envisioned herself sitting at the very table in the corner of the restaurant that her father always said was "theirs."

Draco reached over with his thumb and wiped a dot of sauce from her lower lip, causing her cheeks to flush. "Sorry," she said, her bum fidgeting on her cushion. "This pizza just brings back such pleasant memories for me."

She glanced around as the storm waned, causing rivulets of water to casually cascade down the window panes. The light from the bluebell flames produced a dazzling reflection against the backdrop of the verdant Conservatory, creating the illusion that they might be dining outdoors. "Thank you- for all of this. If this was all just part of an elaborate apology, I'd say you really hit the mark."

"Well, selfishly I'd always wanted to try Tony's pizza, what with how enthusiastically you always spoke about it. So I suppose preparing this for you had a bit of an added benefit."

"Then you should try it. Tell me what you think." She nudged his elbow with her hand.

He picked up his slice and without delay bit off a piece and began chewing. "Not bad," he managed, before biting off another larger portion and eyeing her defensively. "What? It's good, alright. There'll be plenty of time to talk about it later. Now eat."

She was certain the sophisticated aristocrat seated next to her was unaccustomed to talking with his mouth full of food, so she obliged his terse request by tucking into her meal without another word, a furtive grin spreading across her face.

She couldn't help but think how charming he could be when he wanted as evidenced by the sheer amount of effort he had put into their evening. It was rather unfortunate he had to be a walking contradiction that caused her to wonder at any moment which version of him she would be getting. This Draco Malfoy, however, she could see herself tolerating, if not even falling for if she weren't careful.

She reached over to open her can of soda, looking over to find him eyeing her quizzically.

The can opened with a loud crack and a hiss causing him to jolt backward. "What in the bloody hell is that?"

She stifled her laughter before tilting her head back to take a sip of the fizzy drink. "You've never seen a can of soda before?"

"Would I be asking if I had?"

"Here." She reached over and with practiced ease pulled the tab on his can upward causing another loud crack and hiss to issue from it. "It's not advanced arithmancy. Just an alternative to drinking from a bottle. Try it. It's nearly the same as wizarding soda."

He eyed her skeptically before picking up the can to carefully examine it. "I'm not putting my lips anywhere near this thing. There's a bloody razor blade right where I'm to put my mouth! Who the hell thought that was a good idea?"

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, choking back laughter. "Would you stop! No one has ever died from drinking soda from a can. You'll be fine, I promise. Just try it." She reached over with her hand to help lift the can toward his mouth but he yanked it away wildly before setting it back down on the table as far away from where they sat as he could manage.

"I will stick to wine, thank you very much. These lips are far too valuable to risk cleaving them against some poorly-designed Muggle contraption."

She rolled her eyes, grinning as she took another sip of her soda. "Well, you're missing out on the full experience then. You really can't have one without the other."

"I seem to be getting along just fine, thank you," he said, reaching over to place another slice of pizza on her plate.

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she studied the way the muscles in his forearm contracted as it passed in front of her. Between his overtly toned physique, mussed hair, and piercing grey eyes, she was starting to see why Ginny said he was more attractive than any wizard had the right to be.

"Thank you," she managed, aiming to avoid eye contact with him until she could shake her mind of any residual side effects of her observations.

A moment of silence descended between them as he grabbed another slice for himself. "So, have you spoken to your parents since we departed France? Surely by now, they've seen all the news articles."

He snorted inelegantly. "Yes, unfortunately, they know all about the gossip rags. And while they're not exactly thrilled about it, they seem far more concerned about who the mole is that made their way into their party."

"I could see that. So, they don't know who might have sold the story to the Prophet?"

"They haven't a clue."

"Are they at least holding off on arranging marriage contracts for the time being?" she asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"I wouldn't exactly say that. It would seem they've seized this opportunity to place pressure now on our current arrangement." Seeing her brows knit together in confusion, he added, "An engagement, Granger. They're wanting us to be betrothed before the month is up or they plan to proceed with the Arsenau contract."

"What?" she shrieked, eyes blowing wide. "They can't do that!" Her shock suddenly turned into anger. "Wait, had I not asked about your parents, were you even going to tell me about any of this?"

"Relax, Granger. I already knew they wouldn't go down without a fight. And besides, had I told you sooner, what would you have done? It's not like any additional time could afford us the opportunity to concoct some grandiose plan to get me out of this mess. I think we both knew our little stunt would do nothing more than buy me some time." He shrugged his shoulders with a scant hint of dejection before looking down at his plate.

Meanwhile, Hermione shook her head with mounting fury. "No. No. We have not come this far just to roll over and play dead. We'll think of something. I didn't defeat the darkest wizard of all time only to lose the battle against archaic Pureblood ideology. Look at me," she said, angling his chin up with her hand. "We will think of something." Her heart stuttered as his eyes met hers and she realized just how close together they were. He seemed to notice the same thing as his gaze unwittingly traveled down to her lips and back up again searching her face.

"What are you going to do, Granger, marry me?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

Her breath caught in her throat which she quickly righted by forcing out a hoarse reply. "Well, I-"

"Would Master like for Baron to remove his potion from the flame?" the house-elf bellowed from just beyond the Conservatory threshold.

His sudden reappearance caused Draco to jolt backward and scramble into the Potions Room after muttering a muffled, "Excuse me, I'll be right back," to Hermione.

Hermione leaned her back against the couch breathing a heavy sigh of relief as she caught her breath, not realizing she wasn't alone.

"How is the Missus liking her pizza?" Baron asked, rounding the table as he began tidying up their space.

She sat up suddenly, righting herself. "Oh! It's delicious, Baron. Thank you."

"Are yous and Master Draco ready for dessert?"

She peered around at their plates strewn with half-eaten pizza. "Perhaps in 20 minutes or so?"

"As you wish, Mistr-Missus."

As he tottled away and out of sight, Hermione could have sworn he nearly called her Mistress, which seemed to be an odd mistake for a house-elf bound to only serve one family.

"Sorry about that," Draco said, reclaiming his spot next to her on the floor and reaching to take a draw of his wine. "Now where were we?"

Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. "I think we were at the part where I was about to tell you I didn't save you from one forced marriage only to bind you to another."

"Right. Well, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not sully an otherwise pleasant evening with more talk of my parents." He absently twirled his signet ring as his hands lay propped on the table. "Surely there is some other more worthwhile topic we can find to fill our time."

She studied him as she finished chewing her last bite of pizza. "Why don't you tell me about your ring. You mentioned before that it's tied to your family by blood magic."

He looked up at her questioningly. "That's hardly a change of topic," he mused, continuing to wind the ring in circles around his finger.

"Well, I just thought-"

"It's fine, Granger. It's not some big mystery." He pointed to the emerald stone inset. "This stone is imbued with the blood of my ancestors. If you look closely, you can actually see where it resides."

She bent forward to have a better look, but after a few moments, she shook her head. "I don't see anything."

"Here." He twisted the ring off his finger and placed it in her hand. "It may be easier if you hold it up to the light."

The moment the ring dropped into her hand, it began to hum ever so slightly. "I can feel it vibrating, just like the one in the Ministry."

He nodded his head. "Yes, that's because you're not a Malfoy. Were you to be my intended- or more so, my wife, it would transfer into your hands without so much as flinching."

Hermione flushed at the idea, but quickly masked her reaction by holding the ring up to the light emanating from the bluebell flame hovering just above their heads. "Oh, I see it now. It's just a bit darker than the rest of the stone."

"Yes, that is the part of the ring that's charmed to recognize our genealogy. Whether you have ensnared one of our ancestors to fall in love with you or you yourself have Malfoy blood coursing through your veins, this ring will immediately identify you as part of our family tree."

"And if you're not either of those things, but somehow come to possess it, what will happen?"

"Same thing that's occurring with the brooch currently sitting in Evidence. It will vibrate until the very day that it's reunited with its rightful owners, otherwise rendering it useless to whoever possesses it. Can you imagine trying to peddle something while it is quite literally shuddering beneath your skin? Or better yet, imagine wearing it yourself and endeavoring to properly enjoy it."

She turned it around in the palm of her hand, attempting to read the inscription beneath the Malfoy crest. "Sanctimonia Vincet Semper. Purity will always conquer."

"Very good, Granger. It looks like you did your Latin homework," he said with a lopsided smirk.

She swallowed away her disappointment with a blank expression. "I can't believe you would wear a ring that promotes dominance based on a concept you've professed to renounce." She ignored the compulsion to back away from him, instead opting to hand him back the ring.

The air between them instantly tensed with the sorely sensitive topic of blood purity seeping into their otherwise enjoyable evening causing Draco to breathe with obvious strain. "That's a fair point. But I'd like to think you know me better than to think I buy into that blood purity bullshite anymore. I think it's shameful my ancestors judged people according to something no one can control." He could see the doubt lingering behind her eyes as he spoke. "Purity will always conquer doesn't mean the same thing to me as it did to them," he said, looking down to where she still held it in her hand.

"So what does it mean to you then?" She glanced up from the ring meeting his steely gray eyes with guarded interest.

"To me, it means something quite different. Rather- I've chosen for it to represent something more befitting my own personal set of values. Which is to say I view the purity to be purity of heart and mind- a commitment of sorts to follow the path of what is right and just. And I believe that notion will lend itself to always conquering whatever obstacles life places in your path. Hence the tenet, purity will always conquer." He gave an earnest shrug. "At least, that is how I choose to look at it."

Warm, tingling emotion welled up inside her, threatening to compel her forward to throw her arms around his neck. The way the words formed so thoughtfully on his tongue and effortlessly spilled from his mouth left little doubt that this wizard was not the bigoted tormentor of her youth.

She felt an odd flicker in her chest upon hearing his stony rejection of the deeply ingrained prejudices that had stained his adolescence.

She grazed her thumb across the top of the stone, rolling the ring within her palm. "I'm proud of you- you know, that you've managed to abandon the preconceptions you once had and have decided to create your own legacy." Several loose hairs that framed her face fell forward and he moved to swipe them behind her ear, a rather intimate gesture that summoned the unruly pixies to once again dance deep within her navel.

"Well, for whatever it's worth, you were very much a part of that transformation for me. I may not have realized it at the time, but your very existence made me question nearly every belief I thought I had- and all but turned it on its head." A mirthless chuckle escaped his mouth as he fought the urge to wrap a soft, caramel ringlet around his finger. "The bane of my existence, you were," he said with a weak drawl, the corners of his mouth turning up.

Her face flushed as her eyes nervously settled once again on the ring in her hand, mulling over his words. "Well, I'm not sorry to hear I had such a ruinous effect on your horribly-misguided beliefs- you really were a right tosser back then, you know?"

"Yes, Granger- I'm well aware of my shortcomings. You hardly ever let a day go by without reminding me of them if you'll remember. Now can we please move on from this depressing retrospection? I'm beginning to think you get some sort of sick pleasure from opening old wounds."

She let out a breathy laugh, never looking up from her palm where the ring continued to hum over the surface and deciding that dampening the mood any further was unnecessary. "The snake on your ring is coiled," she noted, "while the one on the brooch is elliptic- a perfect match to the one belonging to the Helion family in your father's book. Do you happen to remember anything he may have said about them growing up?"

"Only that they ended up being a complete fraud in every regard- not at all who they portrayed themselves to be. Once their cover was blown, they all but vanished into thin air."

Hermione nodded her head in resignation as none of what he'd voiced was anything they didn't already know. "It's fascinating how it all ties into the Ouroboros Prophesy you overheard Cleopatra talking about. Now we just need to figure out how it's all connected." She stretched out her hand to give his ring back to him.

His smirk widened as he placed the ring back on his finger. "You've successfully managed to change the topic from my parents to my family's blood prejudice. And now you've come full circle back to discussing work. Do you ever observe simple requests or do you just follow your own agenda?"

She shook her head at the accusation, exhaling a breathy chuckle. "I am not running any particular agenda here. It's merely a natural line of discourse I allow myself to follow. Would you rather we rehash today's events in Diagon Alley? Go over each sordid detail with a fine-toothed comb?"

He sighed resignedly, running a hand through his mussed hair. "No, please. I'd rather file that monstrosity of a morning away for the foreseeable future."

He watched intently as she peered around the room. "I'm actually surprised Pansy has given us the privacy she has. She mustn't know you have company."

"Pansy is no longer a guest at the Manor," he declared without hesitation.

"Oh, I didn't realize." She felt an odd wave of relief wash over her that she refused to recognize as anything related to her burgeoning feelings toward the wizard sitting next to her.

"I didn't realize it myself. I just woke up this morning to all of her belongings gone without a trace. I assume she went running back to her fiance." He reached over to refill their glasses.

"Pansy's engaged?" she asked, yet another strange wave of relief easing the tension in her shoulders.

"Who knows. They split up right before she came home, but knowing Pansy, she ran right back to him when she realized there are no wizards left in Wiltshire with an inheritance to siphon."

Hermione chuckled into her wine glass.

"But enough about Pansy. I never asked you, how was your date with Cormac last evening?"

She nearly choked on her wine upon hearing the startlingly bold inquiry. "Well," she managed, clearing her throat, "first of all, it wasn't a date. Not for me, at least."

"So, you're admitting that you may have missed the indecent way he was looking at you in the lifts?"

"Perhaps, but I'm fairly certain after last night, he no longer thinks of me as anything other than a friend- and a very outlying one at that."

"I see." He swirled the burgundy liquid within his glass. "Well, I can't say I'm too sorry that it didn't work out."

"Oh?"

"He wasn't good enough for you," he pointed out, shrugging smugly. "You deserve someone who knows your worth- who's your intellectual equal- not some fool who's looking to climb the Ministry ladder on the back of your coattails."

"How do you know Cormac isn't my intellectual equal? You barely know the guy."

Draco snorted. "Was he in the top of our class at Hogwarts?"

"No, but you were. So, is it safe to assume then that you're my intellectual equal?" A wry grin spread across her face as she goaded him.

He gruffly cleared his throat. "I'd say we're intellectually compatible, yes. Case in point- while Potter and the Weasel are busy wreaking havoc on the case, causing our two main suspects to flee the country, we're here expounding on a thousands-year-old Ouroboros Prophesy. Do you think their piddling brains would be capable of doing the same?" He donned a self-assured smirk before taking a long draw of wine from his glass.

"Harry and Ron are highly trained Aurors. You speak of them as if they're half-witted imbeciles."

"Your words, not mine," he mused.

"You're incorrigible, you know that? If there is any hope for you and me ever being friends, you will eventually have to accept the fact that Harry and Ron are very much a part of my life and as a result, you should do your best not to insult them."

"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," he said, leaning back to rest his arm along the couch, unwittingly angling his body toward her.

She tried to focus on their conversation as she felt his hand graze her shoulder. "Well, seeing as it is looking more and more likely that we will end up having to go to Egypt, you may very well get your chance."

"And how's that?"

"They're part of the task force. So, if we go, they will be coming along with us."

Draco jolted upright. "Please tell me you are joking."

She let out a mirthless laugh, pressing a hand to her cheek that was growing warm from the wine. "No, I'm not joking. They are Aurors, Malfoy, and very much needed for our protection."

He snorted inelegantly, rolling his eyes. "Those two are possibly the last two wizards on the planet I would consider relying on if I needed protection. So, you're basically telling me that the success of our mission hinges on a pair of incompetents accompanying us on a job I'm more than confident we can do ourselves?"

"Like I said, maybe this will give you an opportunity to get to know them better. They're actually quite knowledgeable and proficient."

"Wow. Are we speaking about the same two people? I mean Potter just blasted a glass ceiling into microscopic shards causing MacNair and his cohort to elude capture and you're still maintaining they're knowledgeable and proficient? You can't be serious."

"Look, I don't want to sit here and argue about their credentials. I only mentioned the mission to Egypt because I thought it might be a good opportunity for the three of you to get on the same page and stop this baseless juvenile feud once and for all. It's hard for me to be stuck in the middle when I care for you both." The admission seemed to slip out before she had the chance to consider it.

And unfortunately, Draco seemed to be keen to pick up on the unlikely revelation. "You care about me? Since when did I make my way into the ranks of someone Hermione Granger spares a fragment of her concern?"

"Maybe you've grown on me as well," she said, jutting out her chin challengingly. "And for the record, it's slightly more than a fragment." She inwardly groaned as the wine yet again stepped in to loosen her tongue. "That is to say, it's more like an ample morsel than a fragment."

"Is that so?"

They sat for a moment looking at each other appraisingly, neither wanting to acknowledge the marked shift in the air between them.

"Come here. I want to show you something." Draco stood up abruptly, reaching for her hand and pulling her to stand.

"Where are you taking me," she asked as he led her gracelessly toward the middle of the room.

He deftly transfigured two empty flower pots into downy chaise cushions, lying them on the floor next to each other and instructing her to have a seat at his side as he lowered himself to the floor.

She dropped down, staring blankly forward at the darkened panes of nothingness in front of her. "What may I ask is the point of this?"

He tugged her backward by her jumper until they were both lying flat looking up at the domed ceiling. "Watch this," he said, waving his wand upward with a swish and flick, causing the bluebell flames to all at once extinguish, blanketing the room in total darkness.

Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the shift in lighting, but when they did, she could just begin to make out the brilliant landscape of the night sky twinkling beyond the glass panels.

"Now that the storm has passed, we should be able to see a few of the more notable constellations."

"Mmmmmm," she said, her chest rising and falling in rhythm with each unrestrained breath. "This is quite relaxing."

He craned his head to the side. "You look like you could fall asleep, Granger. The least you could do is wait until after I point out my namesake."

She tittered, folding her hands over her stomach as her eyes searched the skies for what she easily recognized as the Draco constellation. "Despite the fact that I'm running on a dangerous level of sleep deprivation, I wouldn't miss the opportunity to tell you I know exactly where it is." She pointed to the northern quadrant of the sky. "Right there you can see the brightest star in Draco, Gamma Draconis."

He followed her line of sight, huffing irritably. "I should have known your swotty self would also be adept at astronomy." He rolled his eyes before turning back to her. "But I bet the Hermione Granger doesn't know the more traditional name of Gamma Draconis."

Her mouth curved into a smile as she glanced over at him. "You'll have to do better than that if you're looking to stump me. The giant orange star that is 148 light-years from Earth is traditionally known as Eltanin."

The corners of his mouth turned up as he watched her recite the information he was certain she memorized from a book. Propping himself up on one elbow, he looked down at her challengingly. "Did you also know my delivery owl was named after that very star?"

"Now that I did not know."

"So, I guess Hermione Granger doesn't know everything after all."

"I never said I did."

"Speaking of Eltanin, don't think I didn't notice his feathers covered in red jelly when he returned home."

"That devious beast is a common criminal. He took advantage of me by pilfering my entire sweets tray."

"That sounds nothing like him," he defended.

"Well, I can assure you, were he a wizard, he'd undoubtedly be sorted into Slytherin."

Draco clutched his hand to his chest. "I take offense to that. I'll have you know, not all Slytherins are cunning thieves. From my vantage point, we simply get a bad rap for unapologetically pursuing our desires." The gravelly way in which he said it caused something deep within her stomach to writhe. "And in the case of Eltanin, it is your confections- if your version of events is to be believed, that is."

"And what purpose would it serve for me to lie about that insidious swindler?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

He raked a hand through his hair and yawned, slowly easing back onto his cushion. "I don't know. Perhaps you get some sort of twisted pleasure out of defying my requests."

Her head swiveled to look over at him, finding his eyes fluttering closed. "Look who is grappling to stay awake now."

He sighed heavily, humming in reply. "You're not the only one who's sleep-deprived, Granger."

"And what excuse do you have for not getting proper rest?"

"I imagine the same as you," he breathed, lacing his hands upon his chest. "Besides, I'm not falling asleep. I'm simply resting my eyes for a moment until Baron arrives with our dessert."

She wholly doubted he was losing sleep for the same reason she was. Had he spent several hours tossing and turning in his sheets, trying to wrest free from the feeling of his lips pillowed against hers from earlier in the day in the Ministry Atrium? That fleeting motion alone was the sole reason her evening with Cormac descended into a catastrophe of epic proportions, but she would never tell him that. She barely heard a word Cormac said while they were supposed to be enjoying Chinese takeout perched around her coffee table much like she and Malfoy had done. Only instead of merry banter, she found herself continually asking Cormac to repeat himself right up until the point where he stood and declared the evening an unfortunate mistake and departed. It was just as well. She hadn't been into the "date" even before it had occurred. But his untimely departure only left her more time alone with her thoughts, which was the sole contributing factor to why she found herself shifting in a heap of knotted blankets instead of sleeping.

It was extremely offputting, to say the very least, how she came to find herself consumed with thoughts of the obstinate wizard. She had only recently counted him as a temporary work nuisance she need only endure for an abbreviated period of time. When had her feelings toward him changed from abhorrent displeasure to something a bit more disconcerting? Now they were to be considered friends? The reality was he had yet to prove himself the least bit predictable in that regard. One quiet evening of contrition didn't erase a lifetime of volatile interactions.

She detested the amount of time she had already devoted to riddling out his labyrinthine layers. And when had she begun to feel a flutter in her stomach every time he was near? It was infuriating to say the very least the bizarre effect he seemed to have on her. She chalked it up to the rather obvious notion that working in close proximity to someone for a prolonged period of time, along with their strangely complicated charade of pretending to be a couple, could cause these types of false sentiments to manifest. It would be hard for anyone in her position to distinguish between fantasy and reality. She was certain that at the conclusion of the case, when he'd return to his rightful division at the Ministry, the pesky musings would cease and her life would return to some normality.

She shifted on the chaise cushion which had become exceedingly warm under her grasp. She could hear Malfoy's rhythmic breathing which had become increasingly louder as the sound came into focus. A heady aroma of both spring rain and something unmistakably masculine caused something to coil deep within her navel. It reminded her of a freshly-showered Malfoy.

Wait, what?

Her eyes flew open, only to see the light of dawn expanding through the Conservatory's windows.

Her pulse quickened when she discovered her head gracefully rising and falling with the cadence of Malfoy's chest. Horror-stricken eyes traveled down to where her hand was wrapped securely around his waist, just beneath his shirt, his alabaster skin smooth and warm under the pads of her fingers. She didn't have to look down any further to know their legs were entwined and his arm was clutching a part of her body just above her bum.

Shite!

She couldn't allow him to wake up and see them lying in this compromised state! Merlin, she could think of nothing more mortifying! But how could she extract herself from him without him stirring?

She tried to steady her breathing for fear any shifting would rouse him from his slumber. But for as much trouble as she devoted to the effort, it was no use. There was no other way to extricate herself but to make a speedy escape, stirring be damned.

At the end of the day, it was better than the alternative, which was him finding them like this.

She finally decided that on the count of three she would swiftly unfurl herself from his clutches, quietly slip on her trainers, grab her beaded bag, and then make a mad dash for the door. Her only saving grace would be if Malfoy were a heavy sleeper, which she wouldn't know until her plan was already underway. Hopefully, he'd been tired enough from the night before to more than qualify for that particular attribute.

This was it. It was now or never.

On the count of three.

One- she inhaled a breath, deep enough to mentally chart her course.

Two- a measured exhale, cautiously releasing her hold.

And three-

Shite!

Malfoy's grip on her suddenly tightened as he pulled her closer, humming quietly into her hair.

She stiffened, heart racing in her chest and mind sputtering with an endless string of profanities.

There was no question that if he were awake, he could feel the wild pounding of her pulse against his ribcage.

Now what was she to do?

She lay there frozen in time, searching for her next best option, but nothing immediately came to mind.

"Please tell me you weren't trying to orchestrate a covert escape," he grumbled softly into her ear.

Her breath caught in her throat cutting off all train of thought as panic welled inside her.

How long had he been awake?!

She moved to pull away but he only gripped her tighter. "Don't you think it's rather indecent for us to be-"

"Please don't start in on your sanctimonious lectures this early in the morning, Granger. I've just had the best night's sleep I've had in months. Can you blame me for wanting to draw it out for a few more moments?"

If she were being honest, she'd tell him that it was the most restful night's sleep she'd had in months as well, and that was without the use of a Sleeping Draught. But instead, she let out a contrived sigh, feigning annoyance while privately soaking in the last vestiges of what she begrudgingly deemed to be a fairly ideal way to begin her morning.

She despised how good his arms felt wrapped around her and hated even more how badly she didn't want him to let go.

They fit together like two missing puzzle pieces and for whatever reason, she allowed herself to indulge in every minute his warm body spent pressed against hers by sinking into his embrace.

"Did you know you snore?" he asked, just as she was allowing herself to drift down yet another path of self-indulgence, wondering what it might be like to wake up like this with him every morning.

"What?" She lifted her head in defensive opposition. "I do not snore."

The second their eyes met, she realized her mistake. Their faces, brought so perilously close to one another by her foolish shift in posture, caused her to freeze.

Somewhere between his drowsy gaze and gravelly voice, she had never before in her life wanted to attach her lips to something as much as she wanted to latch them onto Malfoy's in that very moment.

What in Merlin's name was wrong with her?

She shook her head to rid herself of the vivid image.

"Wait, if you knew I had fallen asleep, why didn't you wake me up?" she managed, leaning away from him and their disturbingly intimate posture.

Malfoy felt her recoil but continued to hold her firmly in place. "You looked far too peaceful. Besides, I knew you needed your rest," he said, memorizing the freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose.

"Well, thanks to you, we're now conjoined in an improper mix between-"

"Granger." He gripped his hand in the mass of curls at the back of her head, gently pulling her closer. "Please," he whispered against her lips. "Stop. Talking. Now."

She gasped when she felt his lips graze hers and the scarce distance between them narrow, her eyes falling shut on their own accord to reveal a deluge of fireworks exploding behind the lids.

The spontaneous connection felt cautious yet firm, a strained collision of trepidation and impatience.

When he pulled her even closer to deepen the kiss, the palm of his hand slid smoothly under the back of her jumper causing her breathing to quicken, a fire blazing over every inch of skin he touched.

His tongue darted out to dance playfully against her upper lip, her mouth eagerly opening to grant him entrance. She instinctively reached up to run her fingers through his silky blond hair, something she'd only imagined doing in one of her more shameful fantasies. The effect spurred an increased enthusiasm as she felt him nip at her bottom lip causing her to helplessly whimper. Their cherry-soaked breaths mingled for twenty thuds of her heart as she fought hard to ignore the questions fighting to escape her lips.

Her mind raced wildly, counting all the reasons why she should stop this before it went too far, but the synapses were not firing in sync because no command her brain gave her body was enough to draw it away from his.

"Malfoy, I think we should-" she finally managed in between breaths.

Without warning, he rolled them over until he came to a stop on top of her, his arms caging her head as he looked down at her with darkened eyes. "What, Granger? What do you think we should do?"

"It's just-" she managed, fighting to control her erratic breathing. "I'm finding it rather difficult at the moment to distinguish between what's real and what's not, seeing as the last time we kissed it was for-"

He dropped his forehead to hers, releasing a ragged breath she felt ghost against her cheek. "Would you stop overthinking everything," he whispered, running his nose along hers until his lips were a hairsbreadth away.

Every rational thought suddenly escaped her mind as she felt his warm lips pillow against hers. "Tell me you don't have some sort of an unwritten rule about kissing a colleague," he hummed, running his tongue along the seam of her mouth. "Because forgive me if I'm not at all interested in hearing about it."

If she did have a rule, she couldn't exactly remember what it might have been as the kiss became more insistent, Draco expertly drawing her lower lip between his teeth before moving to glide his tongue against hers. Whatever this pure and unadulterated ecstasy was, she had no intention of it ever ceasing. In fact, she struggled to recall what her original objection had even been. This man's every touch was so intoxicating she was drowning in every mingled breath, too entranced to even care that this unexpected entanglement would likely complicate an already overcomplicated situation making work an awkward, unbearable mess.

Wait.

Her eyes flew open as she reached up to push her hands against his chest, effectively halting his rather rousing ministrations.

"I'm- I'm not exactly sure what this is we're doing, but I am sure it needs to stop," she managed, every nerve-ending in her body rejecting the foolhardy demand as her stomach continued to do somersaults looking into his inebriating eyes.

An unexpected wave of disappointment washed over her when he rolled onto his back, scrubbing a hand down the length of his face. When she finally found her voice again, she choked out, "I'm sorry, it's just-"

"It's fine," he said, schooling his features and slowly moving to sit upright, his back to her. "I happen to agree with you- that was a rather misguided mistake."

A painful sting settled in her stomach where an anxious fluttering had just been. "I didn't mean-"

He glanced back at her as she sat up, fixing her with an indifferent stare. "Like you said, momentary confusion between what's real and what's not."

"Right," she agreed, drawing her legs up to wrap her arms around them. "It's easy to see how the lines could get blurred when we've become so used to keeping up appearances for the papers."

"Right. That must be it." He turned again to face away from her, raking a hand through his mussed hair.

An uncomfortable silence settled between them before Hermione broke it by clearing her throat. "It looks like Baron brought us tiramisu," she said, gesturing to the end table where a dessert tray was setting under a stasis charm. "I'm sorry we missed it. I love tiramisu." The admission fell flat into the awkward stillness of the room.

When Draco said nothing in return, she rose to stand, stepping over the chaise cushions to hastily slip on her trainers. "I should go," she muttered, reaching for the envelope he had given her and placing it in her beaded bag. "Thank you- for everything." When from the corner of her eye she saw him get up, she put out her hand to stop him. "It's fine. I can find my way out."

"So you're just going to go running off before we have the chance to properly talk about this?" he asked, slowly padding his way over to her.

Her face flushed with a zealous heat as she fidgeted with the strap of her bag. "I thought we already did," she replied stiffly, making a pathetic attempt to busy herself by scanning the room for anything she may have left behind. "Besides, if we're leaving for Egypt soon, I need to get some things in order before we go."

Recognizing her flimsy excuse for the avoidance tactic that it was, he threw out his arms in resignation. "You seem to have already made up your mind then, so far be it for me to stop you. Baron," he called, glancing over to see his house-elf pop into view. "Baron, would you please escort Miss Granger to the receiving room Floo?" he asked, his penetrating eyes never leaving hers.

"Yes, Master Draco," he replied, bowing low and reaching out his hand for Hermione's.

Draco hopelessly searched her face for any last-minute change of heart, but saw only a restless impatience settled there. "See you Monday, then," he said, his jaw twitching with a cauldron of unspoken words.

She nodded her head with downcast eyes before reaching over to take Baron's outstretched hand.