DISCLAIM: Harry Potter is not mine, OC's and plot is mine.
*SS: Supervisory Special
Hermione quickly escaped out of the door, desperate to get away from the roused blonde. Now with the door separating the two of them, Hermione let out an uneasy blow of air, and lightly touched her lips, where Draco’s were only moments ago, and let out a silent squeal. She had no idea what overcame her boss, but something clearly did, because that kiss was the oddest one she had ever experienced! Could it have been the fact that he was her sworn enemy for seven years? Or that he hated her? Her confusion created a thick cloud in her head, and she felt dizzy. Hermione shook her head, and would’ve laughed at the current predicament if circumstances weren't so difficult. Not only did this affect her new job, but she is also nursing the man back to health! She groaned. Her stomach knotted as she remembered his naked body, his chiselled features, his platinum blonde hair that fell graciously when it wasn’t slicked back, and his amazing, soft pink lips... It was futile to say the man wasn't good-looking, even a blind man wouldn't say that, but the predicament was so complicated it was blinding her. Not only is he her superior, but her ex-enemy from Hogwarts who made her feel like the pesky rubble in his shoes. He hated her. She hated him. So what was the kiss about? Where do they lie now? Uneasily, Hermione walked to her room and dropped in her bed. "He had to kiss me!" She whispered fiercely. "We were barely fighting, getting along well and then he touched me! He will torture me with this!" She huffed angrily. Sighing, she calmed her body down, and reminisced in the memory of his lips, concluding with only one certainty: She had to stay away from Draco as much as possibly and try hard to forget the kiss, hoping that it would never come into a conversation.
If only, Hermione hoped.
Draco watched as Hermione streaked out of the room, his face setting in stone as awareness overcame him. Really, he had no idea why he initiated the kiss, but when he noticed the very little gap between her and himself, his level of emotion overtook him, and all sense flew out the window and he kissed the one girl he wouldn't have looked at twice, but he didn't expect that reaction! He grumbled as rejection washed over him. It wasn't an everyday thing, him, Draco Malfoy, getting rejected by a plain Jane. Even if she saved the world, running out like that was plain rude, he had expected more from her. Although he was secretly glad that she did so, Draco knew he wouldn't be able to contain his emotions if she hadn't walked out, and it would've been likely he would have done something he'd regret. Even if Draco didn't admit it, Hermione was a beautiful girl, in her bookish, brown way, but he never found her remotely attractive, and he still doesn't, but if she wasn't Hermione Granger, he probably would have dated her, but she was Hermione Granger, and he was Draco Malfoy, their history is too bad for a second thought of a date, let alone a relationship! Hermione wouldn't be accepted by his culture and friends, and he wouldn't be accepted into hers, and he was still angry that he had to work with her, which made things doubly complicated. He groaned. "I had to just kiss her!" He said quietly, annoyed at himself. "I just had to ruin things!" He didn't know what he was going to do, but for now, he would happily curse Merlin for lack of self-control and make a mental note to never bring up the topic of that kiss.
He was extremely frustrated.
After being barricaded within these four walls for almost a week, Draco had had enough. With determination set clear in his storm grey eyes, he marched into the room opposite his, fully aware of who was on the other side. After regaining his ability to walk after two days of complete bed rest and the herb potions and other numerous medicines Hermione force fed him, Draco found himself bored out of his brains. Hermione outright refused his pleas for work, not even allowing him to read over the notes she made from her observations of those ghastly photo's, afraid that he would overwork himself. But that was the line. After the little mistake on the first night he woke from his deep slumber, he noticed that Hermione had kept her distance, only visiting him when necessary, bringing books and other things to keep him company. She told him strictly that he should not leave this room, unless it is vital, so Draco was left alone, the bare walls and somewhat soothing fireplace as his company.
"The woman is insane!" He muttered under his breath angrily, "there's a difference between resting and killing me with the silence!"
Which was all he could bear.
He had spent most of his time reading the old Muggle novels Hermione had so generously lent him. Many common ones which he had read prior to the war came among the large pile of thick tomes, but he still read them over and over. The books were now splayed across the room in random places, after being read thousands of times.
"Granger!" He knocked loudly, and without waiting for an answer, barged into the room. "Gran-" he abruptly stopped, the design of the room distracting him.
The room definitely showed her sense of Gryffindor, although it seemed as though she was trying too hard, Draco smirked slightly at this thought, continuing his silent survey of the room. With the blood red walls, the old, brown, rough looking wood and the enormous fireplace, with low lighting, overall, it had a cosy and warm atmosphere, and Draco found himself less tense as the smell of rich lavender and honey emanating from four sets of freshly lit candles set on a nearby cupboard engulfed his senses.
Draco was so caught up in surveying Hermione's room that he didn't even notice her entering the room from her large, luxury walk-in closet.
"Malfoy?!" She squeaked, it was then Draco noticed her presence. "What are you doing here?" She asked him, moving towards her large canopy bed, waiting for his answer. Draco's eyes followed her, lazily flickering over her body, before saying, "sweats and a tee, great way of showing your feminine side Granger." He smirked passively as she scowled. Glaring at him, she repeated, "What are you doing here Malfoy? I thought I told you not to venture around the house! And you're still hurt! Go back into the guest room, I'll come by later to give you your medicine." It was easy for her, to regain her cool composure after one of Draco's snide comments about her, but her dismissive tone really got to him, it made him feel inferior, which pissed him off. Again, she was forgetting who was who, his cheeks coloured pink.
His mind was rapidly searching for a crude remark, and when Draco was ready to hurl it her way, he got distracted by the parchment she was shuffling around with. His comment went out the window.
"What's that?" He asked her, edging near her. She stiffened slightly as he bent down to scrutinise the parchment. "Are those the notes you made on the file?"
"How many rolls of parchment is that Granger?"
"Two." She answered just as stoic. Draco scrutinised the parchment as she unrolled it quickly.
"One metre long parchment bought from Scrivenshaft's, bought new I believe? You bought this one... On the left corner at the far back of the shop, where they leave the scented parchment and the edible quills, its near the storage door, and its --" he bent down to sniff the parchment, "definitely been recently bought, I'd say two or three weeks ago, give or take." He murmured softly, loud enough for Hermione to hear. He moved away from her swiftly, despite the stabbing pain in his chest.
"How did you - how did you know that? You were exactly on point! Even I didn't remember so much!" She said incredulously, her caramel eyes swivelling upwards to look at the smirking figure, widening in awe.
He studied her for a moment, and then said, "I'm a professional Auror who uses psychoanalysis to track down mad wizards, Granger. I know things." He shrugged. "Let me see the notes."
Rudely, he snatched the parchment from her and began skimming them, ignoring Hermione.
"Where's the case file?" He asked her, she snapped out of her daze and pointed to the bedside cupboard. Quickly, he grabbed the file and spread out the photo's inside on the bed.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked. He looked up at her, smiling.
"Teaching you a lesson." He studied a photo and a paragraph from her notes. "You're talking about this picture right?" He held up a photo of a dismembered Tony Hopkins. She nodded. "Granger, if all of these notes are like the first paragraph, you might as well burn this."
"What?" She spluttered confusedly. "Do you know how long I spent on those? I wrote a detailed account of all the pictures with possible causes!"
"Granger, you wrote the obvious! You're working with a *SS Auror and five other well experienced Auror's who would be able to point out everything in your measly paragraphs with their mouth and possibly more! What you spent all your time doing would've taken us a minute to see! You need to think outside the box, Granger, or you'll go nowhere.
"Look, you haven't even wrote about some of the body wounds on this Muggle, Tony Hopkins. See the one on his left shoulder? That is a blunt force entry wound, no exit, meaning the perpetrator couldn't have used a wand for that cut, he used a Muggle weapon." Hermione looked at him in bewilderment.
"Would Death Eaters use something Muggle?" She asked, enraptured.
"They have in the past, although Death Eaters are all anti-Muggle, they still use Muggle-weapons because it inflicts more pain, curses end too quickly, even the Cruciatius. Hearing their victim scream in pain and anguish gives them an adrenaline high. They're sadists." He answered. Hermione was only mildly surprised, although her facial expression said otherwise. Not only was Malfoy's extensive knowledge on these murders making her feel excited and ashamed at her lack of knowledge in this criteria, but she was also doing what she loved most, learning, but Draco being the teacher was quite the damper.
It seemed that Draco was not finished in his analysis of Hopkins' body. "Hopkins has similar wounds all across his body, and is seems he's been slashed most around the groin, so the person who did this most likely used a knife, or a blade. This laceration isn't circular enough, so that rules out a gun, but here, Mrs Diana Williams, she's got a gun shot wound to the head, I'd say that's a .22, but look at some of the other wounds," he pointed at a sharper, but definitely deeper than anything a knife could do, "these were caused by a curse, a curse much darker than the Sectemsempra, you remember that one right?" He asked her bitterly, reminiscing in the 6th year memory. "You've stated none of that in your paragraph, so I suggest you start all over." He was about to leave the room, happy that he showed the bookworm up, but then he had a sudden thought. Whirling around on his heel and wincing slightly as the artificial wind he created crept into his wounds, he walked up to a flushing Hermione, who was erasing all her work with her wand.
"Actually Granger, I've got a better idea. Since your new to this all and I'm an excellent teacher, how about we work on this together instead of you doing something you've not a clue in?" Hermione looked up at him, blushing more.
"I-I'm sure I'm more than capable." She stuttered, flushing profusely.
"Oh really?" Draco challenged. "Tell me, do you notice anything in this victim, that is different to the others? That shows us slip in the killer's work?" He was pointing at victim number six, young Mackenzie Brown.
"Erm..." She stuttered, studying the photo. A minute passed, and Draco answered.
"There was blood all over the crime scene, a messy death, very different to the other deaths, which were systematic and clean, the only blood being around the victim. But that's not all, Mackenzie's also a child, it says here she's... Eighteen. This killer, he goes for older people, both men and women, Muggles, Muggle-born, half bloods or wizards, but they always range from thirty to fifty, most are between thirty-five to forty-eight, he also covers the women's private parts, trying to give them a bit of modesty and dignity, so he could be guilty for harming the women. We know from autopsy reports that pretty much all women were anal raped and castrated, but they could not find semen, so he either cleans up after himself or is... Ahh, having issues in that region," he smirked. "he's cautious, careful enough to not leave a single print, that would be part of his victimology. But this is all wrong, he did not rape her, he did not castrate her, he did not harm her half as much as he did with the others. There was minimal injury, but with a lot of blood, its confusing. Two victims were found in the same area, which was a broken down warehouse, they were just in different places... Mackenzie was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time." Hermione was pretty speechless, she looked at the photo and back at Draco, who had a growing smirk on his face. "The offer's on the table, and since you have not the faintest inkling on what you're doing, it would be wise for you to take it, you are the smartest witch of our generation, are you not?"
"Malfoy, you're hurt," Hermione pointed out. "You can't do anything until you're fully healed. Don't think I don't miss the winces or the pain in your eyes."
"Which only occurs when I move fast or am on my feet. I didn't know analysing a crime scene and dead bodies required excersize." He says sarcastically, but one look at Hermione's face, which only read a simple 'You're a daft bimbo if you think I'll let you touch anything' he gave in. "Alright, whatever Miss Anatomy," Draco rolled his eyes. "Then don't bother making any notes, and call the team together for a meeting here, we need to start on this case as soon as possible, even if I am still hurt." He added sternly when she opened her mouth to protest. Knowing there was no room for debate, Hermione nodded.
"How much longer do I have to stay here?" He asked her.
"About a week or so, I'm not so sure about the wound in your chest though, it looks really bad."
"Okay," he breathed. "Owl Sophia, she'll give you the other five Auror floo numbers, call them and tell them to come here. You don't have any magical wards set up do you?" Hermione shook her head and Draco tisked. "You are an official profiler for the Ministry, set up all the magical wards you can think of, when word goes out that you've joined the team, especially to the Death Eaters, you become the enemy, and you being part of the Golden Trio doesn't necessarily help either, so after the briefing today, we'll set up the wards together."
"Malfoy, you're still too weak to use magic, you don't know what it could do," Hermione persisted, but was cut off by Draco.
"Listen, I am the Head here, and I have the last say. I am perfectly capable of setting a couple of charms and do a briefing, now honestly woman, stop being my mother and owl Sophia!" Hermione's eyes narrowed at the order but still waved her hand, a quill and some parchment came flying by Draco's head, who narrowly dodged it. Quickly, Hermione scribbled a letter explaining her urgent needs of the floo numbers, their names and also for her to be here--
"Tomorrow?" Draco said in bewilderment. "Did you not hear me? There is a crazy Death Eater out there who's chopping random people up! And you expect me to wait 24 hours before I even tell my team what is going on? Change the date now Granger." He commanded, pointing a spidery finger to the parchment. "Are you waiting for Macnair to kill again?! Change the date!" He was growing more annoyed each minute, frustration built in him like a hurricane as he watched Hermione's eyes contemplate on the thought. Sighing wistfully, she said, "I'll change the date if you promise to tell me when you're in pain, if you overwork yourself, the results could be disastrous." Draco nodded impatiently.
"Fine, fine, today then!" Hermione glared at him, before using her magical eraser to erase her mistake. Swiftly changing the date, she summoned her owl, a small, scrawny owl named Midnight Sky, or Midnight for short. She attached the letter onto the tiny owl, and watched it fly away.
"Happy?" She said, frustrated. Draco winked.
"Very." Hermione glared at him.
"Well, you're going to need some food, come on, I'll cook something." And without a second glance, she stalked out the room, letting him follow.
Lunch was passing by uneventfully. Draco and Hermione ate in mute silence, not uttering a single word, there was no need. Halfway through the dull meal, the sound of an owl's hoot filled the room. Almost instantly, Hermione and Draco's eyes shot up, looking at the large window. Flying there, in all its tiny glory, was Midnight, patiently waiting for her carer to open the window. Hastily, Hermione opened the window and Midnight flew in straight away, and was now hovering near Draco. Huffing, Hermione walked over to the man, quickly unattaching the returning letter off her foot, and opened it.
"What does it say?" Draco asked. Hermione scanned the letter.
"The usual, she gave me the floo numbers and told me she'd be there. I'll go make the calls now." With Midnight dutifully by her side, she made her way through the corridor.
"What about your food?" Draco called out, looking at the plate of half-eaten Shepherd's pie and mash, to the door Hermione just disappeared into.
Vaguely, Draco heard a reply. "I'll eat later! Let me make the calls first!" Shaking his head, he continued his meal silently, leaving Hermione to do the work he set her.
As Draco was washing the dishes in which he ate off the traditional British cuisine, Hermione walked into the room, a grin set on her face.
"Done the deed?" He asked, looking up from the dishes.
"Yeah, they'll be here by four," she told him, then she let out a gasp. "Draco Malfoy!"
"That is me," he answered, amused.
"You're doing dishes?" She said in bewilderment. "Forget that, you know how to DO dishes?" At this comment, Draco started laughing, throwing a few bubbles around. In terror of getting stained with the soapy balls, Hermione moved more into her wide open-pan kitchen, on two steps higher ground than the rest of the floor.
When Draco calmed down, he wiped his tears of mirth and grinned at her, "Granger, I live in an apartment with no house elves. Of course I know how to do dishes! Granger, I know how to do washing too." He grinned proudly, as though he deserved a medal for knowing how to do housework. "Never underestimate a pure-blood." He added, winking at her before continuing his assault on the dishes. Bewildered, Hermione stared at him, as though trying to figure out what he meant, but left it as it was and moved to the sitting-room.
"We have an hour before the other Auror's come, what do you suggest we do?" He asked her, clearing the drain of the water.
"We only have an hour?" Hermione said, her eyes grew wide and she stood up. "Well, you're taking your medicine and resting! I'm going to clean up the apartment, make space for the briefing." Draco just shrugged, knowing that it was futile arguing with Hermione when it comes to his health.
"Just make sure there's space for a drawing board, and have a map, one of our Agents has a tendency to use geographical criminology." He told her, and Hermione nodded her head impatiently.
"Accio!" She said loudly, waving her wand lazily. A glass and Draco's medicine box came flying by. "Take this potion and that one," she pointed to as she took them out of the box. "Its quite strong so I thought water might help."
"If its strong, can I take alcohol?" He asked hopefully.
"No." Came the stern reply, and Draco knew not to retort. Slowly gulping the concoction down, he almost gagged and grabbed the water Hermione had poured into the glass. Drinking thirstily, he did not notice Hermione's smile. The next potion he drank quicker, hoping the strong burn would not harm his throat, he was very wrong, it just burned more. "Bed." Hermione ordered and he made his way into the guestroom, leaving Hermione to her cleaning.
"Malfoy? Malfoy! Wake up!" Hermione shouted, shaking his muscled arm, attempting to wake up the semi-naked man under her.
Groggily, he drawled, "if you wanted to wake me up Granger, you might want to straddle me better, although you digging your knee into my sides is an excellent method. Sex with you must be painful." Hermione groaned as she removed her hands from his arms. "How you manage to be so arrogant half-asleep I will never know." He grinned at her. In the forty-five minutes he was in peaceful slumber, Hermione had evidently managed to clean the whole house, including his room, and change her clothes. Standing near the door, Hermione pointed her finger at his naked chest, blushing slightly. "Put some clothes on, you don't want to mentally scar your co-workers do you?"
"Oh yes!" He agreed. "I don't think anyone should go through so much pain, knowing such an obvious piece of beauty! You can't thank God that quick Granger." Winking at her, he walked into the attached bathroom, shouting from behind it a farewell. Rolling her eyes, Hermione left the room.
Ten minutes later, Draco emerged from the guestroom and into the sitting room, where Hermione was pouring water into glasses. The room had been completely transformed. All of Hermione's comfy furniture was transfigured into certain aspects of a briefing room, instead of her brown oak coffee table, there was a large table, fit to sit eight people. In front of it was a large board, with some writing utensils next to it. Instead of her three set comfy chairs, she had magically transformed the three into standard office wheelie chairs, which she then duplicated. Now, set in certain places, were eight chairs around the circular table, with parchment and ink on the table, with everything else unnecessary pushed neatly to a corner.
"Will they eat here?" She asked him, not looking up but noticing his presence in the room.
"No, probably not. My team's rather hard-working, putting the job before themselves. Chances are, they'll eat before coming." He answered her, taking a seat and grabbing the nearest novel near him, which Hermione was re-reading. "Romeo and Juliet?" He asked sceptically, quirking an eyebrow.
"Okay," she nodded. "Hey, Romeo and Juliet is a good book!" She exclaimed, making Draco snort.
"Oh yeah!" He says sardonically. "What a good book! The tragic tale of two star-crossed lovers not meant to be, ending up dying for the sake of their love! That truly is a good tale!" Rolling his eyes, he said, "its a pile of garbage, I thought you had more class than that Granger." At that half-compliment, Hermione flushes, but it passes Draco. As she levitated the glasses with water, he looked around.
"Where's the case files?" He asked her, and Hermione almost hit herself in idiocy.
"My room, I completely forgot about it!" She exclaimed as if it was the end of the world.
"Oh, I'll just get it, we wouldn't want precious Granger making anymore mistakes." He craned his head slightly, before swiftly leaving the room.
He had decided, that he did like Hermione's room. Although it was bold and bathed in gasconade, boastfully showing her irrevocable love for Gryffindor too much, but as a home, it was incredibly homey. With the lavender scents making the inhaler drowsy, the warm dilapidated oak that looks so rough, yet feels so soft, her large canopy bed, with the incredibly bouncy mattress and the silk runner, the room wasn't big either, but it wasn't small, it was perfect. Cosy. Generally, Draco detested red rooms, as a natural Slytherin, he was forever loyal to the house of the pure-blooded, but this one he didn't mind so much.
Locating the case files near her bed, he quickly went to grab them, looking at the clock on the bedside unit, his co-workers were scheduled to come any minute now.
But something caught his eye, something which he shouldn't have. It was a letter, addressed to Hermione, from none other than Harry Potter's sidekick.
Skimming the letter in interest, knowing fully well it would cost his job this federal offence, his eyes lit up, then turned into a frown. Re-reading the context of the indescriptive letter, written clearly by an intoxicated man, his eyes filled in horror.
"God Malfoy, I give you one job! One- what are you doing?" He looked up from the letter, and noticed Hermione's face register to the scene. He looked at her, unafraid.
"What is he talking about?" He asked her. "What is he talking about?" He repeated, more harshly than he intended. She crossed the room and snatched the letter out of his hand, shaking slightly. Her eyes held a fierce anger, and he knew he did something he regretted. SLAP.
The sound resounded in the air, reverberating off the walls and hitting their ear drums.
"Didn't your excuse of parents not teach you to not go through other people's stuff?" She hissed at him, her face red with anger and extremely close to his bent one. "You have come to my home as a guest, nothing more. Do not go through my stuff, or I'll make you experience more pain than I know that hex did." With her wand, she slowly prodded it, making him wince in pain, then she stole the files out of his hands and stalked out of the room.
A/N: Ahh, have not posted in a while, but here it is! Chapter 6! Unfortunately, the letter addressed from Ron will not be in this story ;D I've decided to be nice and let your imagination run free :3
Update 28/04: Ch6 will be delayed due to the fact that I deleted it. I had written ch6 and ch7 on my BlackBerry (via memo's, sad, I know) and I was transferring the chapters through email, deleting the memo as I did so, the email didn't get sent, so now I have to re-write the two chapters, and believe me, those two chapters were at least 7,000 words long, and very important to the story, I am angry, and sorry :(
~(A pissed off) RavenclawStudent.