an: Sorry for the delay, my laptop had issues but now they are fixed.
Anyways, HUGE thank you to FierceFern for the reviews, I really appreciate you! I also want to thank and KatCEstrada for the follow/favourite. Your support is so helpful 3
Hermione spent the rest of the afternoon speaking with Henry's mother, carefully dissecting what had happened with Henry whilst also trying to piece together any clues as to who might have wanted to harm her neighbor. Despite her best efforts, the answers remained frustratingly elusive. Her mind was a whirlwind of theories and half-formed hypotheses, each one slipping away as quickly as it had appeared. She hoped Draco had made more progress than she had.
Hermione entered the office to find Draco hunched over his desk, his shoulders slumped, surrounded by a sea of scattered files. The usually immaculate space was now transformed into a chaotic landscape of parchments and evidence.
"Hey, Hermione," Draco greeted her, his voice tinged with fatigue as he glanced up from his work.
"Hi," she responded, letting her bag fall onto her desk with a thud before collapsing into her chair with a weary sigh.
Before Hermione could even settle in, Margaux's head popped around the door frame. "Oh, hi," she chirped, her tone contrasting the low atmosphere of the room. "I was just wondering if there was any update on the Kirsty Birbeck case. Some of us around the office have been speculating..."
Draco ran his hands through his hair, a clear sign of his frustration. "No solid leads," he admitted, his voice tinged with irritation. "We're still piecing things together."
Margaux's gaze lingered on Draco, her expression softening. "How's the young boy doing? I heard you handled him really well, Draco."
Hermione turned away from their conversation, a small feeling of frustration settling in. Margaux's visit was clearly more about seeing Draco than the case.
Draco waved a hand dismissively. "I had nothing to do with it," he said, gesturing towards her. "Auror Granger deserves all the credit."
Margaux sidled closer to her desk, peering over her shoulder as if eager to absorb whatever knowledge she could. Stiffening, Hermione felt her personal space shrinking and a sense of annoyance creeping in. She reminded herself that Margaux was still learning.
"Right, well," Hermione said softly, hoping to convey the message gently, "you should probably get back to your own work. I need to go through some paperwork."
"Close the door on your way out, Margaux," Draco drawled, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Margaux's face flushed slightly as she nodded. "Right, of course. Good luck with the case!" she said, retreating quickly, closing the door gently behind her.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Draco let out a weary sigh and slumped forward, burying his face in his hands.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, concerned.
"No," he mumbled, his voice muffled by his hands.
Hermione hesitated for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Draco sat up, his face a mask of exhaustion as he dragged his hands down. "Make this case make sense," he muttered.
Hermione watched as Draco crumpled another piece of parchment and tossed it angrily into the overflowing bin. "Did you find anything while I was with Henry and his mother?" she asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, we found something," he said, snatching a dart from his desk and hurling it angrily at the dartboard. The dart missed its mark completely and clattered noisily to the floor. "But nothing adds up."
Hermione leaned forward in her chair, her interest piqued and her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "What did you find?" she asked.
Draco picked up another dart, his fingers toying with the point as he spoke. "The magical trace came back as a match to the Mildred Duncan case." He flicked his wrist, sending the dart towards the board. It landed with a soft thud, a slight improvement over the last throw, but still on the outer edge.
"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "How are they connected?"
"They're not," Draco said, voice laced with exasperation. "I've spent the last two hours combing through every possible lead, trying to link the two cases together. There's nothing—no common threads, no shared acquaintances, no history." He snatched the last dart and hurled it at the board with unnecessary force, the impact sending the previous dart tumbling to the floor. "Ugh," he groaned, turning to face her.
"That's not even the weirdest part," he continued, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. "We also found a vial of a potion in her cupboards."
Hermione frowned. "What? But she's a Muggle?"
Draco let out a short, humorless laugh. "Yeah, welcome to the case where nothing makes sense." He slumped back in his chair, the fight draining out of him. "We've got a magical trace matching a seemingly unrelated case, a Muggle with magical potions, and absolutely no idea how any of it fits together."
Hermione's mind spun as she tried to process the bizarre details. There was no obvious link between any of it, and yet something told her that if they looked close enough, a pattern would emerge. She and Draco silently agreed to push forward, each focused on the task at hand as they started working through the case piece by piece. They compiled notes, filled in gaps in Mrs. Birbeck's file, and tried to make sense of the magical trace, but nothing clicked.
Hermione struggled to keep up, and she found herself constantly retracing her steps, trying to link one detail to another, but it all felt disjointed. They skipped lunch, working straight through as Draco's frustration boiled over, evident in the way he violently flipped through the sheets of parchment, muttering to himself in exasperation.
The ticking of the clock behind her became a relentless metronome in her mind, each tick pulling her focus away from the growing pile of confusing information. Suddenly, Draco's chair screeched against the floor as he stood, breaking the tense silence.
"I'm in desperate need for some coffee," Draco announced, pausing by the door, hand on the knob. He glanced back at Hermione. "Coming?"
For a moment Hermione briefly considered staying, but the need for a break was overwhelming. They'd both been cooped up in their office all day, drowning in case files and frustration. "Yes," she replied, pushing herself up from her chair. She hoped that the stretching her legs might clear her head.
Draco held the door open, a slight smile playing on his lips, as she passed through. He fell into step beside her as she made her way toward the department's coffee machine.
Just as she rounded the office corner, he stopped her. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"You said we were going to get coffee," she said, pointing towards the machine.
He chuckled, a wry smile on his lips. "I meant going out some real coffee, not the dirt that comes out of that machine. My treat."
"Well, in that case," she said, gesturing towards the door. "After you."
Draco had brought Hermione to a small French café nestled in the heart of a quaint green area in Muggle London. It was early spring, and the cool air carried a crispness that made her wish she'd brought a jacket, but it was refreshing.
Draco went to order while she sat at a small outdoor table, enjoying the pleasant atmosphere. He returned shortly with two steaming cups of coffee. "Here."
She accepted the coffee graciously with a small smile. "Thank you."
"You know," Draco said, as he settled into the chair next to her, "this is the first time it's been just the two of us. Properly, I mean. Outside of work."
"What about Diagon Alley?" she challenged, raising an eyebrow.
He tilted his head, deep in thought. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He paused, taking a sip of his coffee. "But this... this just feels different. People might actually start to think we're friends. Imagine that."
She leaned back slightly, the warmth of her cup spreading through her hands. "It's nice to get away from everything for a minute," she admitted.
"Exactly," Draco replied, his features relaxing. "It's just us."
Hermione looked away, her gaze drifting to the scene around them. She took in the gentle hum of conversation, the clinking of cups, the laughter of children in the nearby park. The silence between her and Draco was comfortable.
"Hermione," Draco said, his voice drawing her back. He wore a strange, almost vulnerable expression, making her heart beat a little faster. "You are—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a figure suddenly appeared beside them, pulling a chair over to their table.
Draco held out his hand to stop the chair from being moved. "Sorry, we're full," he drawled, his tone instantly shifting.
"Yes," the man said, completely ignoring Draco. He settled into the chair, his movements were sharp and jerky. "But you're going to listen to me."
Hermione's eyes grew wide as she recognized Marcus Belby. His clothes, once sharp and expensive, were now crinkled and disheveled from a night spent in a holding cell. His face was flushed a deep red, and she could see that his hands were balled into fists under the table.
"Don't, Draco, it's okay," Hermione said quickly, noticing him push back his chair, his posture rigid with an almost protective stance. "I know him."
Draco's gaze remained fixed on Marcus, a muscle twitching in his jaw. After a tense moment, he reluctantly lowered himself back into his chair, though his attention remained on Belby.
"Nice to see you again, Granger," Marcus said, his voice laced with bitterness as he glared at her. "You've made a hell of a mess for me."
"You were released, weren't you?" Hermione asked, her voice carefully neutral. "What brings you here?"
"I've been talking to a few people since I got out," Marcus Belby began, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. "You can't touch me, Granger. You don't have anything on me."
Before he could continue his gloating, Hermione cut him off, her voice steady and authoritative. "You're still under surveillance, Belby," she reminded him, her eyes locking with his. "Because you're a suspect in an ongoing investigation."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco glaring at Belby, his expression a warning. But Marcus, unfazed by the silent threat, leaned forward, a sinister smile curling on his lips.
"Sure. But I'm here to remind you that I'm innocent," Marcus said, his voice smooth but with a hard edge. "You don't know half as much as you think you do, Auror Granger." His eyes narrowed. "Even if you are the 'Golden Girl' you can't possibly know everything, can you?" He let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, almost casually, "How are your parents, by the way? Still Obliviated?"
He had spoken to Cormac.
Hermione forced her face to remain neutral, though she could feel the familiar heat of anger rising in her throat. She knew exactly what he was doing—trying to provoke a reaction, to make her lose her composure.
Beside her, Draco slowly turned face to her, his expression unreadable. His hand which had been resting on the table, slowly clenched, but she could see worry lines etched above his browbone.
Belby, clearly relishing every moment, pulled out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling slowly as if savoring the power. "I know about you," he said, the smirk on his face widening. "You dumped Cormac, broke his heart, and abandoned your poor parents in Sydney. All for what? To get five minutes of fame as an Auror and hang around with Slytherin scum."
Hermione's jaw tightened at the insult.
"You know exactly who I've been talking to," Belby said, exhaling a plume of smoke with an air of arrogance. "So here's the deal. Drop the case, or I'll make sure every dirty detail of your past hits the Prophet. I'll ruin you."
Marcus leaned back in his chair, a slow, deliberate movement, finally turning his gaze to Draco, who still hadn't torn his gaze away from Hermione. Belby's grin widened. "Oh," he exclaimed, his eyes gleaming with malicious satisfaction. "Malfoy didn't know, did he?"
The muscle in Draco's cheek twitched slightly as his expression hardened. He said nothing.
"I'm not dropping the case," Hermione challenged, locking eyes with Marcus in a silent battle of wills. Her gaze was steady, asserting dominance. "Whether or not you're involved in the murder, you still obstructed an Auror investigation, which is a crime."
Marcus, completely unbothered, flicked his cigarette butt to the ground with a casual flick of his wrist, then flashed a slick, almost predatory smile in Draco's direction.
"With people like you, Malfoy," Belby began, his hand making a gesture that mimicked the discreet exchange of money, a sly smile playing on his lips. "I'm sure we could... come to an agreement."
Draco's demeanor shifted instantly, his eyes burning with pure rage. He leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. "People like me?" he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You mean a Malfoy?"
Belby shrugged, completely indifferent to Draco's anger. "Up to you," he replied, his tone casual.
Draco's lips curled into a chilling smile. "That wouldn't be attempted corruption of an Auror, now, would it, Belby?" he asked, his voice suddenly smooth and dangerous. The smirk on Marcus' face wavered for the first time, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features, as Draco continued, a soft, menacing laugh escaping his lips. "You really wouldn't want to add another crime to the list, would you?"
Marcus's confidence faltered, the cocky grin slipping from his face as Draco's words registered. The balance of power had shifted, and Draco's posture, his gaze, everything about him, made sure Belby knew it.
Without another word, Draco stood up from his chair, the movement smooth and purposeful as he straightened his robes. A smile crept across his face as he looked down at Marcus, his eyes glinting with something cold. "Have a nice day, Mr. Belby," he said, his voice dripping with mock politeness, each word carefully enunciated. Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked away from the table.
Hermione hesitated for a split second, before standing up and silently gathering her things to follow Draco, her mind still spinning from the encounter.
As they left the café, Draco's stride quickened, his movements tense. The chill in the early spring air bit at Hermione, making her wish for a jacket. They walked in silence through the narrow streets of London, the city's hum fading into the background. Hermione's mind worked furiously, trying to make sense of what had just transpired and, more importantly, which part Draco was seething about.
As they reached the Ministry's Apparition point, Draco stopped, a long sigh escaping his lips. The lingering tension of their encounter seemed to cling to them as they walked through the bustling atrium.
"I'll talk to Pansy about making sure the story doesn't get published," Draco said quietly, his gaze firmly fixed ahead, and his lips pursed.
"You don't have to," Hermione said softly, a hint of worry creeping into her voice as she observed his distant demeanour.
"I want to," Draco replied, his voice low.
As they stood waiting for the elevator, the silence between them was heavy, charged with unspoken words. When the doors finally slid open, they entered the lift together, the small space suddenly feeling even smaller
As soon as the doors closed, Hermione turned to him. "Did I say something wrong?" she asked.
Draco's head snapped toward her, his eyes widening as they met hers. The surprise in his expression quickly morphed into something else, a flicker of vulnerability. "Why would you think that?" he asked gently.
Taken back by his strong reaction, Hermione felt a prickle of embarrassment, and nervously tucked a stray hair behind her ear. "You're quiet."
"I'm just thinking," he replied, his posture shifting slightly.
Curiosity gnawed at her, but she resisted the urge to press him.
Draco looked at her, a small, almost imperceptible smile gracing his lips. "I know that look," he said. "Don't worry, I'm not angry with you. I'm just imagining the many ways I can make sure Belby gets what he deserves."
Hermione let out a small sigh, her shoulders visibly relaxing. "Oh, okay," she said simply.
His eyes, previously deep in thought, now softened with worry as he looked at her. "Hermione," he said gently, "are you sure you're okay? What Belby said..."
She felt the weight of his gaze, her throat tightening slightly. "Mhm," she said, her voice a little strained.
His head tilted slightly, his eyes searching hers, unwavering. "This partnership doesn't work if we lie to each other," he said, turning away from her.
Suddenly feeling vulnerable, Hermione's gaze dropped to the floor. "I do trust you," she said softly. "I've just gotten used to handling things on my own."
Draco nodded slightly, his lips pursed in a gesture of understanding. "I've walked down that path before," he said, his voice quiet. "It's lonely."
Hermione didn't speak, her eyes glued to the digital display above the elevator doors, each number ticking upwards with agonizing slowness.
Draco shifted impatiently beside her. "Merlin," he muttered, a hint of ironic amusement in his voice, "this has got to be the longest elevator ride ever."
She couldn't help but laugh, a small, genuine laugh that expressed her relief at the change in the atmosphere.
"Ah," Draco said, a genuine warmth entering his voice. "There's that Granger laugh."
She felt heat spreading her cheeks and quickly cleared her throat. "What was it you were going to say before we were interrupted?" she asked, glancing at him briefly.
Draco turned, a soft smile touching his lips, but a flicker of uncertainty crossed his eyes. "I was going to ask if you wanted to meet up sometime, outside of work hours, perhaps for a drink?"
Hermione's eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. She studied his expression, trying to understand his intentions, but he gave nothing away. "Drinks?" she repeated.
"Yeah," Draco said, shrugging slightly. "Just thought a change of pace might be nice, you know? Take your mind off things."
She smiled. "I think I would like that."