A/N- Hello, All! I am extremely grateful for your continued interest in my story! Your support is so greatly appreciated! More updates should be rolling out soon!
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Theo charged through the front door of the safe house nearly doubled over in laughter with Pansy tight on his heels choking back a matching snicker. Their raucous return prompted four pairs of eyes from around the sitting room table to snap over to where they stumbled through the threshold, staring at them with a mix of irritation and befuddlement.
As the rowdy, and not to mention profoundly annoying spectacle reached its third minute without explanation, Draco finally cut in, "Do you mind? We're trying to pinpoint the location of MacNair's underground warehouse and it would be immensely helpful if the pair of you-"
"Ahhhhh," Theo howled, gripping the armchair for support as tears threatened to spill over onto his cheeks.
He tried again, this time gasping a little as he fought to catch his breath. "Ahhhh-hahaha!"
Pansy immediately sobered when she caught the severely agitated look blanching Draco's face. She knew that particular expression all too well.
She swatted Theo on the shoulder, the harsh jab seeming to break him out of his untimely comedic display.
He ran a hand down his face to steady himself.
With a baffling shake of his head and a face flushing pink from the force of his tamped-down laughter, he let loose one final chuckle before wheezing. "So, you know how Pansy and I were tasked with recanvassing the Hegazy Estate, right?"
Draco snorted in derision at Theo's need to state the obvious. "Yes."
They had all agreed to manage various tasks in advance of the following day's mission, of which recanvassing the Hegazy Estate was left to Theo and Pansy.
Draco had reluctantly agreed to scour the maps with the others, finally coming around to the realization that despite his muted protests, the mission was proceeding undeterred.
Granger took his conciliatory participation as a small victory and even provided him a charmed coin to incorporate him into the group's communication network. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't impressed by the ingenious method she'd devised to maintain contact throughout the mission.
Regardless, he was unhumoured by Theo and Pansy's interruption of the progress they were making on charting Hermione's course for the following day, as nothing was more important to him than her safety.
"Yeah, well, you'll never guess what we overheard the shipping dock workers prattling about on their lunch break."
He surveilled the unmoving stares in search of at least one lofty guess, but it seemed none of the aggrieved quartet shared his same enthusiasm for the most recent development. He choked back one more snicker in Pansy's direction. "The blasted buffoons are opening the Hegazy estate to the public tomorrow night!" he announced, staring across the room in anticipation of a reaction to the jubilant news.
When he didn't get the enthusiastic response he'd expected, that being matching howls of laughter, he belted out, "A party! MacNair and his deranged overlord sidekick are having a party and the whole of wizarding Alexandria is invited! You know what this means, don't you?"
Wide eyes and raised eyebrows met his animated grin.
"This means no wards to break, no mote to cross- we can basically bag the whole suicide mission and walk right in there like we own the place!"
A stunned silence blanketed the room, the aftershock wholly torpedoing the quartet's onerous planning session.
"I don't know about you, but I need to go shopping for some frilly toggery to wear to the blowout!" He flashed Pansy a conspiratorial smile. "I'm thinking one of those manly woolen kilts with a sheer little pleated blouse or something like that."
Draco was the first to move.
With a stiff motion, he rose from his chair and advanced toward Theo, oblivious to the lingering expressions of astonishment scattered across Harry, Ron, and Hermione's faces.
He tried to mask his merriment as he went.
If Theo was saying what he thought he was saying, this would mean Hermione would no longer need to put herself in harm's way and therefore Draco could think of no better news had he planned this delightful change of events himself.
"So, you're saying the estate's wards will be lifted and the doors will be a hospitable thoroughfare for any which witch or wizard?" He had to put it all out there in implicit terms so there could be no ambiguity to his query.
Theo smacked him on the shoulder as he waltzed past. "That's exactly what I'm saying, mate. These two hardened criminals must be about as daft as they come if they're lowering their defenses just as the British Ministry is about to close in."
"Perhaps they're unaware we're here," Hermione reasoned as Theo sunk into Draco's vacated chair. "We haven't exactly made our presence known."
A hint of frustration could be detected in her tone. It had been more than 24 hours since the Minister's death and their lack of swift action festered beneath her composure.
"Maybe. But it certainly begs the question of what they're playing at if they're willing to risk their security and that of the Soleada for nothing more than a blasted party," Theo countered. "I mean, what do they stand to gain by inviting the whole of Alexandria into the castle?"
"I know," Hermione cut in after a flicker of introspection. "I've seen this shrewd, albeit flawed tactic littered throughout history. Usurpers of power often know the odds are stacked against them when they overtake a polity against the will of the people whom they aspire to control. My guess is they know the probability of a revolt is exceedingly high so they are trying to cut off the blistering artery of outrage before it ruptures. They're buying the people's affections," she clarified when she noticed Harry and Ron's expressionless faces. "The ancient Egyptians were infamous for this sort of brand of exploitation. In fact, I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they're planning to open up the ancient coffers and dispense the entire heap of Cleopatra's treasures in order to save themselves from eventual annihilation." She exhaled heavily, blowing a whisp of hair away from her scrunched-up face. "The question now is how do we amend our plans to include becoming guests at a widely-attended party without compromising our mission or causing any unnecessary fanfare?"
"What do we care about fanfare?" Draco interjected as he and Pansy made their way over to the table. "Taking out these two thugs is bound to cause some sort of a stir, regardless of our tactic. Which come to think of it, what exactly is our tactic?"
Five heads swiveled in turn, silently surveying each other until Harry finally breached the stillness. "Well, first of all, we can't just waltz in there without some sort of disguise. Even if they're unaware the British Ministry is in Alexandria, it's best if we're not recognized. Security I'm sure will be tight at an event like this. And tipping them off before we're ready to apprehend could be disastrous. Not to mention, we must think about the safety of the others in attendance above all else. There can be no unnecessary carnage of innocents."
"Harry's right," Hermione said. "Even if they believe they've escaped our sights, I've no doubt they will still be on heightened alert for any suspicious attendees. Maybe we arrive in pairs? Under Glamour charms, perhaps?"
"Glamour charms won't last nearly long enough," Draco said. "They're only designed to temporarily alter very specific traits or markers. Changing hair or eye color, for example. That won't be adequate. I'm thinking Polyjuice Potion might be our only option."
"And where are we supposed to get a cauldron of Polyjuice Potion in the middle of the blasted desert?" Ron piped in. "And waiting a month for a batch to brew is out of the question."
"You mean as an Auror you don't carry with you a caddy of reasonable supplies for a mission such as this?" Draco asked with narrowed eyes. "Tsk, tsk, Weasley. I never go anywhere without my vast collection of potions, one of which happens to be Polyjuice Potion. I've enough in my stores for two, maybe three of us to consume if we should decide to go through with the plan."
"Wow, Malfoy. I'm impressed," Hermione said, while also feeling a fair bit foolish for losing sight of bringing her reserves from home. That's not to say she hadn't thought of it. Unfortunately, the vital tonics remained on a dusty shelf in her potion's room, right next to her forgotten Sleeping Draught.
She scanned her Ministry counterparts each in turn. "So, who do you believe are the best candidates amongst us to attend this sovereign soiree?"
Draco blinked once. Then twice. "I will go. And I think Harry and Theo should, as well."
Hermione held in a scoff. "So, only wizards?" she asked, trying not to allow her indignation to seep through. She wanted to remind Malfoy of his unending insistence of Harry's incompetence but she thought better of it.
"Indeed, we are all wizards, but that assuredly is not the reason for my recommendation. Theo knows best the layout of the estate- and not to mention he's one hell of a Hit Wizard. That more than qualifies him for this mission. Harry has worked in tandem with Theo for the better part of a year so I should think their combined approach will be nothing short of synchronized. And me, well- I think there is a very good reason Minister Shaklebolt placed me on this case- and that is to take down MacNair. No one here has spent more time with him than I have so I am the most suited to anticipate his movements."
Hermione had to admit, she was plenty moved by Draco's thorough examination of the task force's attributes, but she was equally vexed about not being included as a prospective candidate for the mission.
She looked across at Pansy, for the first time realizing that without the honeypot ruse, her ongoing presence served exactly no purpose. Now, however, did not seem the appropriate time to draw attention to that pesky little bit of information. Besides, despite Hermione's initial opposition to her, she admittedly no longer felt any ill will toward the leggy brunette.
That left Ron. She was certain Ron would storm the Hegazy estate without so much as a plan if it meant it'd get him out of Egypt sooner and back into Lavender's outstretched arms. Judging from the look on his face, he too was displeased to be excluded from consideration.
She reminded herself that it was only Malfoy's view of how the mission should unfold. And unfortunately for him, she had assertions of her own.
"While you make some very good points, Malfoy, I think history would agree that Ron, Harry, and I would be the obvious choice for this assignment. Not only have we taken Polyjuice Potion numerous times before and therefore know what to expect, but we also have undeniable chemistry as it pertains to our combat skills, should that be required."
"Hermione's right," Harry cut in. "Malfoy, you and Theo can secure the perimeter- stand by with Hermione's coins and offer backup if needed. And Pansy, as much as I'm sure you'd like to accompany us, I think it would be far more prudent if you were to remain at the safe house." He searched the immediate area for any dissenters. "You all ok with the plan?"
A blooming flame of opposition began to lick at Draco's neck. "Granger, may I have a word with you?" he managed, sidestepping the table and stalking his way toward the back porch.
He turned to ensure she followed.
When they inched through the doorway, the screened door slamming shut with the telltale clack, Draco pivoted to face her.
An uncharacteristic look of defeat etched across his face. It seemed he was finally tiring of the near-constant battle of wills between the two of them.
"Please tell me why you insist on always being the one to go into battle," he began. His voice was even, whether from restraint or the simple knowledge that they could be overhead this time, she wasn't sure. Either way, it seemed his combined air of exhaustion and impending collapse could no longer be suppressed. "Was my plan really that abhorrent to you? Or is it something else? Because if I'm not mistaken-"
"It's all I know," she said, growing visibly worn from their endless back-and-forth. "Malfoy, I don't know how to stay behind and wait for others to solve a problem. That's not me. That's never been me. And in all likelihood, it will never be me. I'm sorry you continue to not understand that, and I'm even more sorry we keep going 'round in circles about it, but I really don't see another way around-"
"Then I will go with you," he said, trying not to give way to his desperation. "Let Weasley man the perimeter with Theo. You've never once failed to remind me that we are partners, have you not? So, why then when we are so close to the conclusion of this case, would we sever what semblance of a partnership remains?"
There it was. Partners. As if she had somehow forgotten that's all they were. Yes, she had been the one to oft repeat that obvious fact, but hearing him say it after all they'd been through stung.
Something about this moment felt like the culmination of it all. The push and pull of the case, of their relationship, of their soon-to-be diverging pathways. They were at an impasse. A gridlocked threshold of sorts.
And Malfoy was right.
If a fleeting partnership at the DMLE was all this was ever meant to be, she owed them both as much to end it with this one unbroken accord.
"Fine," she finally managed, eyes locked on his in what was meant to illustrate an affirmation of her authority, but when she saw his fractured gaze, muted flecks of midnight blues and ashen grays eclipsing his eyes' former luster, her self-righteous will collapsed.
What had become of this unshakable wizard? The sharp edge of his voice had somehow been extinguished. His unflappable resolve dissolved nearly down to its core. And all that remained was this shell of despondency. She was certain that if she'd denied him this last request, he'd have walked away without a fight.
"Fine?"
"Yes, that's fine. I can apprise the others of the change in plans. The rest we can sort out together." When he didn't immediately respond, she added, "You seem surprised."
He gave a half-shrug. "I would have thought you'd have preferred Ron over me every day of the week and twice on Sundays," he quipped. "So yes, perhaps I'm a bit surprised."
"Malfoy, this isn't a competition between you and Ron. I happen to agree with you that we entered into a partnership when we took on this case together and therefore, like you, I intend to see it through to the very end."
"The end?"
"Yes, the end."
Something about those two words, the combination of those six paltry letters, caused silence to hang in the air like burning stones from the mouth of a volcano for several thuds of her aching heart as the finality seeped into her consciousness. She wanted to shout at the top of her lungs that this- whatever this was- didn't have to end, regardless of the outcome of the MacNair case. But Malfoy had his future already carved out for him and sadly, that future didn't include her. So, this was it. The final chapter. The denouement.
"I can contact the Ministry and get a Portkey for Pansy if you'd like," he offered up. "You know, now that she's no longer required for our mission." His words were like a muffled echo in her ears.
Hermione shook her head, more to clear it than anything else. "That won't be necessary. She's not a bother, really. And besides, she and Theo are obviously quite smitten with one another- and who am I to stand in the way of love, right?"
Malfoy made a pained face.
"What, are you not keen on your two best friends being a couple?"
He snorted. "Nothing makes me happier." His reply dripped with sarcasm. "Now that we're on the subject, however, I do find it quite intriguing that you willingly broke about a dozen Ministry rules to accommodate her staying. That must have been some conversation you had this morning."
Hermione thought back to the uncanny similarities between Pansy and Theo's courtship and her rather lamentable feelings toward Malfoy. Admittedly, those parallels were what had vanquished her good sense, but she could never let him know that.
"Your friend was very convincing," she finally managed. "And besides, she took an unbreakable vow of secrecy, so her presence here hardly poses even a negligible risk."
"Well, thank you for not tossing her out on her arse. That was very noble of you. At the very least, they do seem to make each other happy."
Hermione swore she saw a flicker of envy behind his mask of flippancy. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel it too.
When they finally rejoined the others, Harry and Ron had already recommenced the planning and plotting session with Theo, agreeing that both he and Pansy would return to Alexandria that afternoon to acquire the necessary supplies for the subsequent day's mission- that being suitable clothing for the soiree as well as three carefully-chosen hairs from Egyptian villagers to add to their Polyjuice potion. Harry made Theo swear that he'd keep the attire simple and the hair selection uncomplicated, but Theo's rueful chuckle left him with some lingering doubts.
When only the four of them remained, Hermione wrapped a charmed blanket around herself and refocused her efforts on studying the map of the Hegazy Estate. When she glanced up at Malfoy, his eyes met hers, a whisper of gratitude for being allowed to be part of this mission rolling off him with just one look.
Hesitant fingers reached for his hand across the table, but she forced herself to retreat.
He frowned, seeming to detect her hesitation.
She sat up straighter in her seat, thinking perhaps a change in posture would keep her foolish hand from betraying her.
Just as she was pondering all the ways her heart needed to settle into a new world following their assignment, Harry ambled over and sunk into the chair opposite her. "What are you thinking, 'Mione? Surely by now you have a carefully crafted plan that should have us out of there in five minutes."
"I was thinking we could be out of there in no more than three minutes, actually," she said, with a hint of amusement.
Draco looked mildly entertained by what sort of plan of action she had already constructed in that brilliant mind of hers.
"While I've no inclination for the order of events, I do think it's important that we gain entry along with the rest of the attendees, working out a way once inside to fan out into the more remote chambers of the dwelling. That is where I suspect we'll find the Soleada. Mind, it won't be as simple as just plucking it from its pot. I've no doubt it is under heavy protective enchantments, which will add to the challenge."
"Wait, if we apprehend MacNair and his partner, is it really necessary to acquire the flower? I mean, once they're in Azkaban, will it really matter?"
"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, castigating eyes widening, "Yes, it's imperative we collect the Soleada! It's the only way we can prevent some other madman from acquiring it and starting this whole sordid process over again! Once we have it in our possession, it can be destroyed. But I think I speak for everyone here that I'd sleep a whole lot easier knowing it's not floating around out there somewhere in the world."
"Or, we could send it down to the Department of Mysteries," Draco offered up. "I mean, it is an exceedingly valuable ancient artifact from the Ptolemaic Dynasty. It would be afforded very sound protection there."
"That's not a half-bad idea either," she agreed, exhaling as she sat back. "Regardless, we can sort that out later. Right now we need to figure out a way to isolate the perps and apprehend. Which if I give it any measure of thought, I believe we'll find both MacNair and his evil overlord sidekick attached at the holster."
"He used to follow Voldemort around like a lost bowtruckle," Draco drawled, his assertion followed by the strident sound of rustling pots and pans.
Ron.
"Can I get a hand in here?" he bellowed.
The painstaking process of charting a new course for the following day rendered Ron restless and Hermione found herself wondering what havoc he'd wrecked this time in his sojourn to the kitchen. She had a sneaking suspicion it involved food.
Harry pushed away from the table and went to investigate.
Hermione took her eyes off her departing friend and turned back to face Draco, looking for any signs of his innermost thoughts. With Harry's absence, the empty room fell silent and she once again found herself tracing her finger along the outmost edge of the chateau map.
"Do you remember our first meeting about the MacNair case?" she asked into the stillness.
The question caught him off guard.
"Of course, I remember our first meeting, Granger. It was nary a fortnight ago. Why do you ask?"
Oddly, it seemed more like a lifetime ago to her, what with all the emotional ground they'd covered together. She suddenly found it hard to remember what the animosity and strain between them felt like. How uneasy he'd made her feel.
A look passed between them entwined with truth and understanding that she tried to dissect. "No reason," she finally said. "It's just this case has kept us so busy that I've only just now managed to reflect on how different things have become."
Draco made a small, chuffed noise. "You'll have to be more specific. Things have become different, how?"
She stared at the map, drawing the blanket more tightly around herself despite not being cold, attempting to rearrange the words in her mind to some semblance of coherent thought.
"It's interesting how time passes so quickly, yet somehow it always seems to catch us by surprise," she began with a contemplative sigh. "I've always thought life to be mostly predictable in a sense, but the past several weeks have taught me how foolish that notion is really. Not too long ago, you and I couldn't even bear the thought of being in the same room together. Remember when we'd both discovered we'd be sharing an office?" She chuckled. "I don't feel like we're even the same people we were then, do you?"
Draco's sidelong glance was part puzzled, part intrigued. "Where is all this introspection coming from, Granger?"
"I- honestly don't know. I guess I've just been thinking about this assignment coming to a close and feeling as though all the pieces of everyone's future seem to be fitting perfectly together. Apart from my own, that is. It's hard to reconcile what purpose all this transformation serves if-"
"Granger," Malfoy cut in, his lips curled upward with affection. "If you're wanting to thank me for transforming you from an obstinate swot into something slightly more tolerable, all you had to do is say so."
Hermione stopped herself from reaching across the table to smack him. "You can make light of it all you want to, but I think we both know who transformed whom." She flashed him a smile that was matched by a cheeky one of his own. Hermione blinked. "You should really consider yourself lucky I didn't have you removed from the case following that first night at the Manor. Did you really think it wise to begin the night with a chip on your shoulder the size of Madame Maxime? You couldn't even be bothered to properly greet me at the Floo."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Honestly, do you ever hear yourself speak sometimes? Your recap, although indeed very enlightening, is unfortunately historically incorrect. As I recall, you arrived at the Manor well beyond the agreed-upon time and I had simply retired to an armchair after growing tired of waiting. You, however, were the one whose volatile opposition toward cordiality compelled you to immediately begin a physical assault on me the moment you'd passed through the grate."
Hermione laughed, her shoulders shaking. She couldn't help but smile at the wizard's wild interpretation of events. If only it were true.
This ability he had of making her laugh despite the seriousness of what they would all be facing the following day was a talent she wouldn't soon forget.
His grey eyes brightened at the sight of her childlike grin. "Your guilty laugh is brimming with culpability."
"It is doing no such thing," she replied, trying to pretend she wasn't paralyzed by his penetrating smile.
The comment made his smile grow wider as he realized there was no point arguing with the forestalling witch. "I will concede, however, that despite your undisguised acrimony toward my hired help, Baron still seems to prefer you over me most days. There's no telling why that might be," he muttered under his breath.
"I make no apologies for being vehemently opposed to forced labor," she said, too smug for her own good. "But perhaps I was a bit premature in my assumptions. I rather like Baron myself. He's brilliant, considerate, clever, courteous, attentive- and if I'm being honest, I think I will quite miss him." It would have been impossible given the way the words ran wild from her lips not to wonder about whom exactly she was speaking. It seemed Draco may have been wondering the same thing.
His eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch as if quietly demanding her attention. "Well, if I'm being honest, I believe Baron thinks you are witty, intelligent, selfless, brave, and quite captivating- when you're not busy being disagreeable, that is. And I'm nearly certain that he thinks the manor will be painfully desolate without your vexing presence."
She pressed her lips into a thin line, fighting the shiver that trailed up her spine as Malfoy watched her a little too closely. "Baron actually feels that way about me?" she asked, blinking dumbly at him.
There was a shift in his eyes.
He cleared his throat. "I happen to know that-"
"You guys want to try my Cauldron cakes?" Ron asked as he lumbered into the sitting room with a tray of muffins levitating high above him. "Harry says they're better than Honeydukes."
Draco's eyes shifted to his peripheral, caught somewhere between humour and irritation as he watched Ron parade toward them carrying a plate teeming with the vanilla confections. He was about to say something snarky, but Harry cut in.
"They really are good. Hermione, they're like the ones we baked second year and gave to Cra-"
"Harry!" she squealed in a voice much too shrill to be considered natural. "Why don't you set a couple down here on the table so Malfoy and I can judge for ourselves?"
Harry eyed her skeptically until a flash of understanding spread across his face.
Malfoy was unaware of their dubious scheme to gain entry to the Slytherin Common Room.
A visibly confused Malfoy shot Hermione a sidelong glance. "Care to elaborate on what that little outburst was about?"
The exchange instantly caught Ron's attention, but he wasn't nearly as adept as Harry at picking up on social cues. "Oh, we made these second year and filled them with a Sleeping Draught to feed to Crabbe and Goyle so we could-" Suddenly feeling the wrath of his fellow Gryffindors searing a flame of indignation against his face, he paused sheepishly. "I mean, we made them for one of our late-night study sessions." His deep blush did nothing to sell the pitiful attempt at recovery.
"You did what?" Draco asked, his eyes suddenly trained on Hermione.
To spare themselves further embarrassment, she reached over and plucked one of the Cauldron Cakes from the platter, smirking as she did so. "It really is quite a captivating tale, but unfortunately it must wait until another day. We really do need to tie up these loose ends for tomorrow's mission."
Draco squinted, readying himself for a confrontation, but instead determined that for the time being he would allow her to evade the topic full well knowing he would ambush her later.
"If it involves the three of you and your proclivity for rule-breaking, I'm sure it is quite a charming tale indeed," he said, holding onto a scant edge of politeness while plucking a cake of his own from the tray.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione exchanged a look as they watched Draco chew his Cauldron Cake with cool indifference.
To ease the tension, Hermione took a bite of her own while Harry and Ron devolved into a conversation about whether Ron's cakes were also better than Madam Puddifoot's.
Draco's expression shifted from irritation to contentment as he swallowed, settling back in his chair. "Loathe as I am to admit it, these are quite good."
Off to the side, Hermione could see Ron's chest puff out ever so slightly.
"They really are quite good, Ron," Hermione agreed, earning her an appreciative smile as he and Harry dropped into the chairs next to her and Malfoy. "They're the perfect provision to help us along as we sort through the rest of our plan. Speaking of which, when do you think we'll receive word from Theo that he's acquired the trappings needed for tomorrow's pursuit?"
Harry shook his head with a sigh. "There's no telling with Theo."
Draco's concurring frown was priceless. It seemed he had qualms of his own that Theo could manage not to bungle the simple task of obtaining some no-frills apparel and a couple strands of hair.
Before long, they were working side by side, talking about ways to get in and out of the estate without drawing scrutiny from the other attendees. Hermione split her attention between the map and the distracting way Draco's foot seemed to be accidentally brushing against hers beneath the table.
As the minutes bled into hours, Hermione glanced over at Ron, unsurprised to find his eyes fluttering closed every third blink and his head lulling to one side.
Before anything else could be said on the matter, Hermione bolted upright in her seat. "That's it!" she cried.
The outburst earned her several stilted looks from Draco and Harry.
Ron startled back to consciousness.
"That's it!" she cried again, this time with even more enthusiasm. "Ron, you're brilliant!"
Draco snorted into the air, giving her a proper leer.
"Harry, for the past hour we've been blathering about the best way to subdue our targets, when all this while, the answer has been right in front of our noses!"
Ron teetered somewhere between sluggish confusion and being superbly pleased.
She exhaled, finally dropping the blanket and leaning forward to pluck the last of Ron's muffins from its plate. "Sleeping Draught," she pronounced flatly, waving the confection in the air. "We make a batch of Ron's Cauldron Cakes, fill them with Sleeping Draught, and plant them somewhere where MacNair and his partner are sure to find them. With all the other food offerings, it is guaranteed to go unnoticed," she added with an air of satisfaction. "Once the cakes are eaten, the Sleeping Draught will immediately subdue them long enough for us to cast the necessary restraining spells and transport them to the underground Ministry prison until which time Kingsley and his team are able to arrive to cart them back to Britain to face charges."
Draco tried not to laugh at the visual of Hermione running out of breath as her spirited monologue came to a close.
"I mean, it worked once before," Harry said, nodding his head with burgeoning interest.
Ron plucked the sweet from Hermione's hand and popped it into his mouth. "It's as good a plan as any."
Draco winced at the garbled sound he made as he spoke.
"Malfoy, you didn't happen to bring a Sleeping Draught along with you, did you?" Hermione asked.
There was a peculiar shift in his eyes before he answered. "Yes, Granger."
Something about the way he swallowed told her he wasn't keen on offering up that bit of information.
But why?
Just then, her thoughts snapped back to their night at the Steigenberger Cecil when she made the mortifying request that he come to her room to help her fall asleep.
Why if he'd had a supply of Sleeping Draught had he not simply offered her a vial?
Her mind swirled with confusion, his confession nearly causing her to lose track of what she was talking about.
After several unending minutes, Harry dragged her back to the current time and place. "So, is that the plan then?" he asked, squinting. "Ron, you can get working on the Cauldron Cakes. Hermione, why don't you and Malfoy gather up the potions from Malfoy's supplies. I'll work more on laying the groundwork for our passage using these maps."
It seemed Hermione's concentration now involved a great deal of effort.
"Sure, Harry," she replied, still staring vacantly across the table at Malfoy who looked uncharacteristically cagey.
Mere moments later, the pair found themselves in Hermione's room.
She studied him as he suffered several failed attempts at casting an Accio into his overnight bag.
"Here, let me do it," she said, inching over with wand raised and the incantation hanging from her lips.
He brushed her aside with his hip. "I've got it, Granger. I don't need your help casting a simple summoning spell."
She stumbled backward, blinking at him, the tension swelling like a rising tide.
"You could have just told me you had a Sleeping Draught," she finally said. "Back at the hotel when I couldn't fall asleep. So, why didn't you?"
There was a suspension in Draco's jaw as the contents of his potion's stores flew from his overnight bag onto the bed. He waved the leather case open with a flick of his wand, the clinking of tiny glass bottles rustling with the motion. "I didn't hear you asking for a Sleeping Draught, Granger. Am I now expected to be a trained Legillimens too?"
The air between them defied description. "I just would have thought-"
"What, Granger? You thought I could read your mind? That seems to be a chronic mistake of yours. Here's a bit of information to chew on- I've no idea what you're thinking. Not now, not then- and likely not well into the future."
He picked up the vials of Sleeping Draught and Polyjuice Potion, turning to face her with an unseemly frown.
Even with his obnoxious scowl, she still found him unfathomably attractive. The fact that they were standing at the precipice of another massive blowout caused a twisting in her stomach. She couldn't let their petty exchange devolve into another outbreak of the silent treatment.
He stilled under her rigid scrutiny.
"I don't know what to say," she finally managed, resisting the stubborn urge to tell him how she felt.
Heat poured off him, hot enough to scald a dragon.
If he moved any closer, she could glean the coarse fragments of his stubble.
This energy pulsing between them was somehow different than before. She struggled to give it a name, but it left her unable to speak.
Thoughts drifted back with an untimely swiftness to the way his lips had left her in heavy pants the night in question, want suddenly roaring through her veins. She closed her eyes.
Think.
Breathe.
Just kiss him.
Just then, he placed a heavy hand onto her shoulder, leaning in with a nettled quirk to his lips.
"You can start by moving," he said, before nudging her out of the way and sauntering toward the door.
It took several long minutes after he'd left to unwind the knot in her stomach.