AN: Hey Guys, you can find this story on AO3 also xxx
Summary:
Six years after retreating from the wizarding world, Hermione Granger returns to face a challenging new role as an Auror—only to find herself partnered with Draco Malfoy, the last person she expected to see. Their reunion thrusts them into a high-stakes investigation that quickly becomes intensely personal.
As they delve into a series of chilling murders, they find themselves entangled in a dark web of deception and danger. The case brings them face-to-face with shady potion makers and hidden agendas, as allies from their past emerge as surprising threats, and the true enemy emerges from the shadows. When a tragic incident involving an innocent neighbour raises the stakes, Hermione and Draco's professional and personal lives are at risk.
Excerpt:
"I've got a job here," Hermione said curtly.
Malfoy's eyebrows shot up. "Really?" he asked, clearly surprised. "Which department?"
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement." She replied, shifting her stance.
"Well, shit." Malfoy said, running a hand through his dishevelled hair.
"Well, shit indeed," Hermione responded, wondering if the rest of her day could get any worse.
Present - 2004
6 years after the war
Hermione sat alone in her car outside of the Ministry of Magic, preferring the solitude of driving, finding comfort in its mundane simplicity. Today marked her first day as an Auror, and her first interaction with the British wizarding world since the end of the Second Wizarding War.
While the world around her had shifted and changed, Hermione had kept her distance. The scars of the war running deep, anchoring her in the shadows. Yet buried even deeper was a far more insidious truth—a silent torment. A demon she had yet to face.
She inhaled deeply, a faint cloud of condensation forming as she exhaled in the chilly air, and with that steadying breath, she pushed the car door open, bracing against the biting wind that greeted her. The door slammed shut, and she locked it before stepping toward the Ministry's entrance.
As her foot touched the pavement, a figure clad in black shot past her, their hood drawn low over their face, nearly knocking her off balance.
She opened her mouth, ready to shout after them, but stopped herself, watching as they veered sharply into a dark alleyway behind the Ministry, disappearing into the shadows. Her hand instinctively twitched toward her wand, senses sharp as she debated whether to investigate or head directly to the Aurors.
A sudden clatter echoed from the alley, and in an instant, the decision was made. With her heart pounding, Hermione moved swiftly toward the alley, every footstep calculated and silent against the cold pavement. As she approached, she caught sight of the figure once more—a man, she realized, from his build and stance. His back was to her, wand drawn, and aimed at something she couldn't quite make out.
With her own wand held steady, Hermione cautiously advanced, her eyes narrowing as she assessed the situation. The man was tall, his athletic frame suggesting he could easily overpower her in a physical struggle. She knew she needed to act quickly and decisively if she wanted to maintain control.
In one fluid motion, Hermione closed the distance between them. With practiced precision, she grabbed his shoulder and spun him around, slamming him chest against the wall. Simultaneously, she flicked her wrist, disarming him with ease. His wand flew from his hands, and landed in hers.
She pressed him against the cold brick wall, her wand aimed at his back, ready for whatever might come next. To her surprise, the man didn't resist. He remained still beneath her grip, his breathing steady.
With a swift motion, Hermione yanked down his hood—and froze. A familiar shock of pale blonde hair tumbled into view.
"Malfoy?" she whispered, her voice just loud enough for him to hear.
"Now that you know who I am, do you think there's any chance you might release me and return my wand?" Draco said seriously, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. He seemed to find the entire situation entertaining.
Hermione's grip tightened around her wand, her irritation growing as she studied him.
"What are you doing behind the Ministry?" she asked, her voice sharp, demanding answers.
A small, mocking laugh escaped his lips. "That depends on who's asking," he replied sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as if daring her to play along with his game.
Hermione had no patience for it. She shoved him harder against the wall, forcing his cheek to press uncomfortably against the cold, rough brick. "I won't repeat myself," she said, her voice low.
"Alright, alright!" Draco winced, shifting slightly under her hold, still not knowing who he was talking to. "I'll tell you, but only if you promise this won't end up on the front page of the Daily Prophet's gossip section."
She remained silent, her gaze unwavering.
"I'll take your silence as a yes," he said, waiting for some sign of leniency from her. When none came, the amused glint in his eyes dimmed, and he let out a small sigh
Hermione remained steadfast.
"Fine," Draco sighed, exasperation clear in his voice. "I thought I'd duck into this alley and find something to transfigure into appropriate Ministry robes—discreetly, of course. But, as you can see, that didn't exactly go according to plan."
"Why didn't you have your own set, surely you can afford them." She challenged.
"I was out last night, and things got… well a lot more out of hand than anticipated. Didn't want to embarrass myself coming in in the same robes as yesterday."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You expect me to believe you were in a dark alley behind the Ministry of Magic… looking for something to transfigure?"
"Believe what you want," Draco shot back, his frustration evident. "But that's the truth."
He attempted to turn his head to get a better look at her, but Hermione forcefully pushed it back against the wall, keeping him in place.
A small chuckle escaped him, despite the situation. "The whole department's going to have a field day when they hear about this."
"You work here?" she asked, surprised.
"Yeah, I'm an Auror. Do you not keep up with The Prophet?" he replied, as if she should've known.
Hermione blinked, trying to process what she'd just heard. There was only one way to be sure.
As if he could read her train of thought, he quickly said, "Back pocket. Along with the rest of my belongings."
Her gaze remained fixed on him as she reached into his pocket, carefully pulling out its contents. Among the assorted items, she found what she was looking for—official Auror documentation, complete with the Ministry's embossed seal. The neatly printed text confirmed his status as an Auror, dating back to 2001. There was no mistaking its authenticity.
"So," he said, his voice laced with mild irritation, "do I finally get to know who's accosting me like a common criminal?"
She held him steady for a moment longer, debating whether to keep him pinned or let him go. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Hermione released him. He remained facing the wall as he straightened up, brushing bits of rubble from his clothes. When he finally turned to face her, a wave of dread coursed through her.
"Can I have my wand ba—" His voice faltered as their eyes met, recognition dawning in his expression.
Hermione hesitated for a brief moment before reluctantly placing his wand into his outstretched hand, which had remained frozen since he'd turned around.
"Granger?" Draco's eyes widened slightly in disbelief.
"Seems like we've both been caught off guard," she replied coolly, her tone tightly controlled.
He blinked, still struggling to process the situation. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice uncertain, almost stuttering in his surprise.
Hermione's mind flashed back to the last time they had been this close. The memory, sending a shiver down her spine.
6 years ago - 1998
She was running. Running faster than her body should have allowed. Her legs and lungs burned with each frantic step, but there was no time to slow down. In her pocket, she clutched the basilisk fang, and the only thing she could focus on was reaching the Room of Requirement to destroy the horcrux within Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem.
Spells whizzed past her, leaving trails of light in their wake. The air was filled with the sounds of shouting, spellcasting and explosions. Behind her, Ron struggled to keep up, his breathing labored as he fought to stay close amidst the turmoil. Every corner she turned seemed to bring new threats, but Hermione pressed on, driven by the urgency of their mission and the weight of the responsibility.
As she turned the final corner toward the Room of Requirement, a deafening bang erupted behind her, followed by the ominous sound of crumbling rocks. Panic surged through her as she spun around, straining to see through the swirling clouds of debris. There was no sign of Ron behind her.
"Ron!" she screamed, her voice raw with panic.
Her shouts were just barely audible over the chaos, and she strained her ears, hoping for any sign of a response, her heart pounding with the fear that she might have lost him.
"Hermione," he called back, "I'm okay. Keep going on without me. I'll find a way to catch up."
A momentary wave of relief washed over her as she heard Ron's distant voice calling back. But there was no time to waste. With her heart still racing, Hermione pressed on, pushing herself faster as she ran toward the door of the Room of Requirement.
The door seemed to take an eternity to materialize. Each second potentially costing them everything in this battle. The distant echoes of more explosions and spells intensified her sense of urgency. As the handles finally began to solidify, Hermione's heart raced. She seized the moment, pushing through the door with all her strength and ducking swiftly to the side.
Hermione remained perfectly still, her breath barely audible as she strained to listen for any sign that someone might be following her. The door behind her was on the verge of vanishing into the walls of the Room of Requirement, and just as she thought she was alone, a figure came crashing through at the last moment.
It was Draco Malfoy, limping and smeared with blood.
"Granger," he called out, his voice raspy and strained, as if each syllable was an effort.
She froze, paralyzed for a moment as fear and shock battled for control. Instinct warred within her—to fight, to flee, to defend herself. The sounds of the raging battle outside seemed to vanish, replaced by a deafening silence that left only Draco's ragged breaths and shuffling footsteps echoing through the room. He looked around frantically, his eyes searching the shadows, desperate to find her.
"I know why you're here," Draco shouted, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "I have the Diadem."
Her hand gripped her wand tighter as she rose from behind her hiding place, emerging slowly, her wand trained directly at Draco's chest. As their eyes locked, the tension around them seemed to crackle.
"I want to help you destroy it," Draco continued, his voice softer now, almost pleading. Slowly, deliberately, he dropped his wand to the floor. The sound of it clattering against the stone was deafening in the silence.
Hermione's breath caught as she watched him, her mind racing through the countless possibilities—Was this a trap? Could she trust him?—but the look in his eyes, raw and desperate, made her hesitate. This was not the arrogant Draco Malfoy she knew.
"Who are you fighting for?" Hermione demanded, her voice sharp with desperation, trying to make sense of the impossible situation before her.
"My mother," Draco replied, his voice unwavering, even though his body trembled with exhaustion.
Hermione's gaze swept over him, taking in the sight of the once-proud Slytherin now standing before her, defenseless and vulnerable. His school shirt, now torn and bloodied, hung in tatters around his lean frame. One sleeve was entirely ripped off, revealing the Dark Mark etched deep into his skin. Her eyes lingered on it for a moment, but she quickly forced herself to look past it, searching his face instead.
The stormy grey eyes staring back at her held no malice, no arrogance—only fear. A fear that mirrored her own, though neither of them would admit it. He was just another person trapped in the chaos, trying to survive.
"Fine," she said after a long pause, her voice steady, though her heart still raced. She extended her hand toward him.
Draco hesitated, his eyes flickering between her outstretched hand and her face. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the Diadem and throwing it in her direction, the relic gleaming as it sailed through the air.
She caught it with both hands, immediately feeling the dark magic pulsing beneath the surface, suffocating.
"Are you sure you want to be the one to do it?" Draco asked, his gaze locking with hers, searching for certainty in her eyes.
"Yes," Hermione replied firmly.
With a swift, practiced motion, she drew the basilisk fang from her pocket, and without hesitation, she drove it straight through the heart of Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem.
Present - 2004
Hermione's mind was still spinning from the flood of memories, her focus momentarily lost.
"Granger?"
His voice pulled her back to the present with a jolt. "Sorry, what was the question?" she asked, her mind struggling to catch up.
"I asked," he said, pausing as he studied her closely, "what you were doing here? I didn't realize you had much contact with the wizarding world anymore."
"I work here now," Hermione said, her tone leaving little room for further discussion.
Draco's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Which department?" he asked, clearly taken aback.
"Magical Law Enforcement. I'm the new Auror," Hermione replied, shifting her stance slightly to brace herself for his reaction.
"Well, shit," Draco muttered. He raked a hand through his disheveled hair, letting it trail down the back of his neck.
"Well, shit indeed," Hermione echoed, wondering how her day could possibly get any worse.