Partners in Crime [PG-13] for Our Pinch Hitters
The original recipient of this gift is no longer participating, but the author has kindly offered to dedicate their story to everyone who has pinch hit for us this round as a special thank you for their efforts.
Title: Partners in Crime
Author: pips_n_chiaw
Rating: PG-13
Recipient: Our Pinch Hitters
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all other characters, etc. are property of J.K. Rowling.
Warning(s): Mild use of swears.
Author/Artist Note(s): Thanks to lucillajoanna for editing this fic! Your feedback was invaluable. It was admittedly challenging to write given the stresses of RL…but hopefully you like it :)
Summary: There are some adventures you can't go through without ending up liking each other, as Hermione learned in First Year. Now, it's Draco's turn to learn this lesson.
The sudden burst of magic knocked Hermione off her feet, and she landed on her side with a sickening crack and no small amount of pain. Beside her, her partner swore violently, scrambling to his feet.
“Granger, you okay?” he asked brusquely, turning her over. Still slightly dazed, Hermione found herself staring into Draco Malfoy’s anxious grey eyes. His hair was messier than she had ever seen it and he had a scratch on his cheek. She found it awfully hard to get her breath back while staring at him.
“I think I sprained my wrist,” she said, turning her attention to her throbbing right wrist. She had reflexively put out her hand to stop her fall, despite all her MLE training telling her not to. “Oh no!” She gasped in dismay, seeing for the first time that she held only half of a wand. The other piece lay uselessly on the ground. She remembered the cracking sound she had heard and couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed that it was her wand, and not her wrist, that had broken. If it had been her wrist, then Draco could have possibly fixed it with her wand. Now, they were wandless, as the thugs had disarmed Draco and taken his wand.
Draco picked up the broken piece and plucked the other half from her hand, aligning the pieces.
“Hey! That’s my - What are you doing?” Hermione stood up, watching in confusion as Draco gripped the middle of her wand, holding the two pieces together, and waved it frantically.
“Honestly, Granger, I thought it was your wand that snapped, not your brain. We have to go after them.”
“How-”
Without warning, a triple-decker purple bus appeared in front of them. Hermione would have fallen down if Draco hadn’t steadied her. The Knight Bus. She’d only taken it once in her life, and it was an experience she’d hoped never to repeat.
“You didn’t need to wave a wand,” she muttered dourly, grabbing her wand from him as the door flew open, just to prove that she knew something.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded- Tchoo doin’?” Stan Shunpike broke off as Draco barged onto the bus, Hermione at his heels.
“I’m on the MLE,” Hermione said, fishing out her badge. “We need the bus. Everybody off, please!” She raised her voice as she addressed the passengers.
“Now wait just a second,” Stan protested. “You can’t just-”
“I said EVERYBODY OFF!” Hermione yelled again before turning to Stan. “Mr. Shunpike, I am Hermione Granger, an officer of the MLE. We need the bus to pursue some criminals. I’m afraid you have no choice but to comply.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Draco had persuaded the driver - she couldn’t tell if it was Ernie - to stand up. “Are there any more passengers upstairs?” she asked Stan over her shoulder, moving to help an elderly witch gather her belongings.
“No, just them three,” he said, hovering uselessly behind her. Hermione shoved some of the witch’s luggage into Stan’s hands and ordered him to exit the bus. She was pumped full of adrenaline, eager to catch her quarry, and had the bus cleared relatively quickly, borrowing Ernie’s wand to send a Patronus to the MLE to let them know of the stranded group.
The door had barely closed behind her when the Knight Bus leaped forward, causing her to bang painfully against a pole. “Ow,” she complained, staggering to Draco’s side. He glanced at her in the mirror and only just managed to avoid a collision with another bus. Trust the Ministry to give her a partner who would happily have her die in a car crash.
“You should have kept his wand.” He slammed on the brakes as they came to a red light and turned to look at her as she struggled to maintain her balance. “Would have been the smart thing to do.”
“Wizards don’t give up their wands to strangers, even if I am part of the MLE,” she retorted, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “There would have been no guarantee when he would get it back. Besides, I’m trained in wandless magic.”
“It’s still not as effective as having a wand. Although perhaps no wand is better than your wand,” he said, eyeing the broken pieces sticking out of her pocket. “Drop and roll, Granger,” he reminded her patronizingly.
Hermione reddened. “I know,” she snapped. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she only had to tolerate him for one mission, and then they could get back to their separate lives and never have to see each other again, save for perhaps occasionally in a Ministry lift.
“I don’t suppose your training in wandless magic includes training in wandless apparating?” Draco asked.
“I have tried to learn, but it’s very difficult and risky. And the risk of splinching is enormous over distances as short as a few miles.” Deciding it would be wise to leave the subject of wands for the time being as there was nothing that could be done, she asked, “Why are we going to Harrogate, anyway? Their bases are in Dover and Coventry.”
“I heard the fat one say they’d head to Harrogate. You’d better take a seat,” he advised, shifting into first gear as the light turned yellow. “And keep your eyes peeled for the Ferrari. There’s still a chance we might catch up with them.”
Hermione huffed but did as she was told. She was just sitting down when the bus jumped forward, causing her to land rather heavily in her seat. She hated the Knight Bus. “I hope you heard them right, otherwise we’ll have lost them. Don’t you normally-” She stifled a scream as they narrowly dodged a building, but thankfully it seemed to move out of their way.
“Pull yourself together, officer,” Draco called over his shoulder, snickering at her predicament. He took a curve a bit too sharply, and the centrifugal force threw Hermione against the window. “What were you saying?”
“Arthur said you normally keep track of these magically altered Muggle things,” Hermione said, deciding to ignore Draco’s jibe. “He said you can even trace them.”
“The legal things. In case you haven’t noticed, this is illegal. Hence your presence here.”
“I was just asking, Malf- oh my God!” She tumbled forward as the bus screeched to a halt. “Did you hit it?”
“No,” Draco replied sourly, looking quite shaken himself, “the cat lives another day.”
“Alright, that’s it,” Hermione said, getting to her feet. “I’m driving.”
Draco was so stunned that he let her push him out of the driver’s seat. “You?”
“Why are you surprised? I drive to my parents’ place almost every weekend.” Having adjusted the seat, Hermione put the bus in gear and they started moving.
“I’ve heard of women drivers, never actually met one. And this is pathetic driving, Granger- the cat we just saw could walk circles around you.”
“I’m getting a feel for it,” Hermione replied as they accelerated. “You ought to try to drive more smoothly. The problem with wizard drivers is they don’t have to get a license- the magic on the cars usually helps prevent accidents. But they don’t learn good driving habits.”
“Smoothly? Smoothly? Yes, one can drive smoothly, but the adverb ‘slowly’ is more apt in this case.”
“Oh, hush. I read-”
“Of course you did.”
“-that female drivers are actually more aggressive than male ones.”
“Really? You must be one of the few who aren’t.” He faked a yawn when she glanced at him, but found the grin she was giving him a bit disturbing. “What?”
“Malfoy, when have you ever known me to be meek?” As soon as she said this, the bus slammed forward, although not with nearly as much jerking and rocking as it had under Draco’s control. He watched in amazement as Hermione shifted gears rapidly until they were flat out on the highest gear. And Draco hadn’t yet lost his footing.
It was with some admiration that he realised something that he would only ever admit under pain of death or dismemberment- that Hermione Granger was a better driver than he.
She and Draco had debated on whether or not to go straight to Harrogate and meet the thieves there or whether to drive along the route and try to catch them. They eventually decided to chance catching them en route as the Knight Bus was still faster than their magically enhanced Ferrari.
“I hadn’t realized the Knight Bus was so popular,” Hermione observed as she overtook a speeding Muggle car. “I feel quite sorry for them, they’ll probably be waiting for ages.”
“Focus, Granger, they’re not our concern now. We’re almost at Harrogate, keep your eyes peeled.”
They were silent for a few moments, but it was Draco who found himself losing focus, his gaze repeatedly straying to the driver. His mind was full of questions, of things he had never known about her. “So what car do you drive, Granger?”
“A Mini Cooper,” Hermione replied proudly. “It’s mostly Muggle with only a few modifications- all legal, of course. I did them all myself before I registered it with your department. When my Muggle friends see it, they see a plain, ordinary car. I don’t want them asking too many questions about my job or how much I make. What they don’t know is that it can fit the entire Weasley family.”
Draco’s eyebrows rose in incredulity but he chose not to tell her how impressed he was. He wasn’t all that surprised, since he had known about her talent at charms all the way back in their first year at Hogwarts. “I drive a Merc myself. SLR McLaren.”
“Wow.” Now it was Hermione who was impressed. “I’m partial to Merc’s, my dad always had one when I was growing up. I’m hoping my next car will be- look, that’s the Ferrari!”
They had just rounded a bend and sure enough, the yellow Ferrari they had been searching for was just metres in front of them. “Do you think they can see us?” Draco asked.
“They’ve just sped up so I’m pretty sure they can.”
Slowly, under Hermione’s expert guidance, the bus gained on the car. When it became inevitable that they would catch up, they were surprised to see the car completely miss a turn and plough straight into a tree. Hermione slammed on the brakes and opened the bus door. She was out before Draco had picked himself up off the floor.
“Homenum revelio,” she muttered, and there was no reaction. She cautiously approached the crashed car, and peered through the window. There was no one inside.
By then Draco had left the bus and was coming towards here. “Well?”
“They must have disapparated away. I wonder why they left the car, though, now we’ve got all the evidence we need.” She had barely finished speaking before an explosion tore through the scene and both of them were knocked to the ground.
Draco was up first. “Granger?” He had been further away from the blast and had miraculously managed to avoid any flying shrapnel. “Granger? Where are you?” He could hardly see for all the smoke, and he crawled to the spot he thought he had last seen her. Eventually he found her a few feet away, lying motionless.
“Granger, are you alright? Wake up! Shit, Granger,” he said as he assessed her injuries. She was bleeding from several spots, and part of her hair was smouldering. Draco quickly put it out, but she hadn’t yet woken. He glanced around desperately, knowing help could only be a few minutes away. Surely the Muggle police or the Ministry would have been alerted of the blast by some means. He took out his handkerchief and pressed it against her head, which was bleeding profusely. At that moment he felt he would do absolutely anything for a wand. The thought of having a dead Granger on his hands scared him more than anything. She was never like this - even as she was being tortured by Bellatrix she had fought back. To see her so limp and lifeless and dependent on him was worrisome.
“Come on, Granger,” he said coaxingly, shaking her again. When she didn’t respond, he swore and took off his necktie, tying it over a wound on her upper arm. The next casualty was his Ministry-issued robes - dimly he thought that he should have used them first, so Arthur would give him new ones - which he tore to bind around her leg. She was still losing a lot of blood.
Moments later, multiple pops signaled the arrival of the MLE. “Finally,” Draco sighed, standing up to meet them.
“What happened?” one of them asked, noticing Draco’s torn Ministry robes.
“We were chasing a couple of wizards illegally modifying Muggle cars. They bombed the car just as we reached it. My partner’s hurt,” Draco said, indicating Hermione. The man immediately began to shout orders to the other officers. Two of them began to tend to Hermione while the others went to inspect the car. Draco followed them, his mind still preoccupied.
His ‘partner’. He hadn’t asked for her, and he definitely hadn’t wanted her. But there it was, and he had said it without thinking - she was his partner.
Hermione walked into the Ministry a few days later with only a slight limp and a new haircut to show for her adventure. She headed straight to Draco’s office, determined to catch up on the latest developments of the case, details of which had been withheld from her despite her pleas for something to do - on Arthur’s orders, although she would bet her wand hand Molly had something to say about it. Her partner, whom one of the other MLE officers had described as the epitome of concern, had not even visited her to give her news, though Harry did tell her Draco visited shortly after she arrived at St. Mungo’s but she was still unconscious then.
She barely stopped to tap on his door before opening it and entering. Draco glanced up sharply as she walked into his slightly cramped office. His face betrayed no sign of surprise, although his gaze seemed to linger a little longer on her hair than was strictly necessary.
“Granger.” He indicated the seat across from him. “Shouldn’t you be at home?”
She ignored this. “Why haven’t I been given updates on the case? I’m still on it. Just because my body was affected doesn’t mean my mind was-” Hermione stopped short as Draco handed her a sheaf of parchment. “What’s this?”
“My notes on the case. I was under orders not to trouble you while you were recuperating, but this should get you up to speed fairly easily.” He had to wave the papers slightly before she accepted them, looking slightly suspicious.
“You made notes for me? I thought you would have been glad to be rid of me.”
“Yes, I did enjoy the few days of blessed silence,” Draco said, closing his eyes in imaginary bliss. “But I knew you’d come back to screech at me - you always do - and figured it would be best for all the ears in the Greater London area if I just gave you what you wanted.”
Hermione ignored most of his speech as it was nothing he hadn’t said before. “Good boy, Malfoy!” she exclaimed, beaming at him like the proud owner of a dog that had just learned a new trick. “You’ve finally learned that it’s best to just give me what I want. Well done.”
He scowled. “Just for this project, Granger. We’re forced to work together after all.” What Draco would never admit was that he was relieved she was back. Watching her die while waiting for help to come had been one of the most difficult things in his life, bringing back harsh memories of watching people die under the Dark Lord and his followers. He was relieved that she was well, but it didn’t stop him from wishing they would solve the case, part ways and never have to work together again.
“If I had had this sooner, we might be done with it by now,” she said, standing up and walking slowly to the door, trying to hide her limp. To her surprise, Draco stood and strode past her, holding the door open for her. His display of manners shocked her momentarily, and she paused on her way out to stare up at him. He had changed. He definitely wasn’t the same person she used to know, though he was still undeniably Draco Malfoy. Perhaps it had been the brief time he had spent in Azkaban or perhaps the change had started before that, when Voldemort had occupied Malfoy Manor. Hermione doubted she would ever know.
“Take it easy, Granger,” he said, and she thought she detected some kindness in his voice. “We’ll catch them soon enough.”
****
Draco clenched his jaw as he raced towards Hermione, who was desperately trying to regain control of her broom. A more experienced flier, he knew it was hopeless and urged his broom to go faster. “Hermione!” Her name slipped from his lips without him even noticing. She twisted her head to look at him, eyes wide with fear, never letting go of the broom. A red curse flew precariously close to Draco’s elbow but he ignored it. “Grab my hand!”
For a split second she looked at him like he was insane, then decided it was possibly the only chance she had. She lunged towards him, hands outstretched, and he caught her, pulling her onto the broom in front of him with no small amount of difficulty. Her own broom tumbled to the ground without its rider. She tapped him with her wand and the spell slid down his skin; Draco knew he’d been Disillusioned.
“Fucking ambush,” he growled, bringing them even lower, into the canopy of trees that, though difficult to fly in, served as a good cover. He struggled to turn the broom to the right, barely missing a tree. “Lean into the turn, Granger, don’t fight it!” he snapped. “Follow my lead.”
He heard her take a deep breath as she steadied her nerves. He realized she was trembling slightly. Frustrated, he tried not to wonder for the hundredth time why his superiors insisted on pairing him with Granger. Yes, they had worked relatively well together during their first paired mission, and once Hermione had recovered from the Exploding Ferrari Incident they had quickly managed to round up the gang responsible for illegally magically enhancing and reselling Muggle cars. That didn’t mean they would work well together all the time.
Draco had to admit, however, that being paired with Granger had some perks. He would never get any fun otherwise, if constantly being the target of Unforgivables counted as fun. His position in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office - a position given by the oh-so-witty-think-they’re-so-clever Wizengamot to ‘help him appreciate Muggles by placing him in close contact with them and their inventions’ - meant mostly desk work. Occasionally his boss, Arthur Weasley, would take Draco along with him to assist in confiscating the damned Muggle objects, but more often than not Draco sat in his office surrounded by mis-enchanted electronics and the like, trying to disenchant them. At first he had absolutely loathed the work and had been incredibly bitter towards any Muggle object unfortunate enough to have been bewitched. Eventually, though, he became fascinated by how the gizmos worked without magic, and his curiosity in that respect was one of the reasons he was so good at what he did. Within a year Draco had become a veritable expert on both the magical and non-magical aspects of enchanted objects. His superiors decided it would be useful for him to tag along when an MLE officer (namely, Granger) had to get involved to trace and track down people illegally enhancing Muggle items.
Like vacuum cleaners. For Merlin’s sake. As if brooms didn’t go fast enough, there were now new flying hoovers on the black market, supposedly able to go faster than the latest racing broom. They were also incredibly dangerous, the spells on them being haphazardly cast and clashing with the electronics of the hoover. Some thrill-seekers had taken to organizing illegal Quidditch matches played on the modified machines. They were faster but brooms were nimbler, and it was only because of this that Draco was able to stay ahead of the six men chasing them, darting through the trees.
Hermione yelled a spell, and bright beams of light exploded from her wand, clinging onto the trees they passed. Draco instinctively ducked but they passed straight through it. He didn’t bother turning around to see what had happened, but he could tell from the frustrated yells of their pursuers that several of them had gotten caught in the trap. Hermione turned to look and grinned.
“Four down,” she said. “I added a Portkey spell, it should activate soon.”
Hermione’s ability to blend spells was almost as legendary as her intelligence. “I hope you sent them straight into Potter’s bedroom,” Draco said sincerely. “He didn’t warn us that these goons would be expecting us.”
“They should be in the Ministry,” Hermione replied distractedly, turning to look over his shoulder again. “Only two left, should we take them? Do a sharp u-turn, I doubt they’ll expect that, and then we’ll stun them.”
Draco shook his head, still focused on avoiding nearby branches. “Not a chance. It’s too risky. Just use that spell again.”
“They’ll be expecting it. Come on, how much longer can you keep this up? What if there’s a thicket we can’t pass through? Trust me, Draco. It’ll be fine. We’re Disillusioned anyway.”
He hesitated for a moment, then relented. “Granger, just so you know, if it were any other MLE officer, I’d refuse.” As he turned the broom sharply, he heard her chuckle and could just imagine the smile lighting up her face. Although adrenaline was already coursing through his body, the knowledge that he’d made her smile seemed to make his heart beat just a little bit faster.
There had been subtle yet significant changes in their relationship since their partnership had begun, Hermione had realized. As exasperating as it was working with Malfoy, she found that she didn’t dread going in to work like she used to - on some days, she rather looked forward to it. Though at times incredibly annoying, Malfoy did add spice to her otherwise somewhat boring and routine job. As far as revelations went, it wasn’t particularly earth-shattering - Hermione knew that it was only logical for her relationship with Malfoy to undergo certain changes as time went on, and being thrown into two life-threatening situations probably hastened the process. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“So what’s going on between you two?”
Hermione shared a look with Draco. “Er, nothing?” She didn’t bother asking what made Ginny think that; in Hermione’s opinion, the sooner they got off the topic, the better.
“There’s some chemistry, some tension between you two, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it!”
“Ginny, please leave. Our meeting should have started five minutes ago, it’s a very important case,” Hermione pleaded.
Draco, on the other hand, was humouring Ginny. “Oh we have noticed it. Discussed it countless times, in fact. It’s called despising each other.”
“Now you’re just in denial.”
“No, we’re not.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“Who?”
Ginny faltered. “Um, sorry?”
“Who say they’re in denial? And don’t say ‘everyone’, because that’s not true. I want names, Weasley.” Draco watched her squirm with a smirk.
“Honestly, Hermione, why do you fancy him?” Ginny asked exasperatedly.
There was silence, as both Draco and Hermione looked at each other. Hermione had expected Draco to reply, since he had been doing most of the talking up to that point anyway, and Draco waited for Hermione to say something. Eventually, Hermione, who was rather pink, cleared her throat and reminded Ginny that they had all wasted five minutes and there was a case to discuss. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
“Fine, I guess I’ll go. Bye Hermione!” Pointedly ignoring Draco, Ginny left the room.
The two remaining exchanged a glance, and after a second Draco handed the file he was holding to Hermione. He sat down opposite her. “Case of exploding marbles. Not meant to seriously hurt someone, so they were quite popular with kids who used them for pranks and games, and the man started producing them on a larger scale, selling them to Muggles as well. When we tried to question him about it, he fled, and has been on the run since.”
Hermione opened the folder and skimmed through it briefly. “All right, tell me what you know.”
“It’s similar magic to what’s used in Gobstones,” he explained somewhat distractedly, taking advantage of her preoccupation to study her features. Though not conventionally pretty, he thought she had her own sort of beauty about her - a kind of strength and confidence that he found quite admirable. The blush hadn’t left her cheeks, and Draco decided he quite liked her flustered. He hadn’t missed that she hadn’t denied fancying him, but instead of calling her out on it he filed the information away for thinking about later on. “Not dangerous in themselves but certainly not something we want getting into Muggle hands. Muggle Health and Safety officials are already beginning to investigate the marbles.”
“Merlin. Some people just don’t think, do they?” she sighed, taking out her quill to make notes. Draco watched in silence as she jotted a few things down. He enjoyed watching her work. “Right. Let’s get started, shall we?”
To his surprise, Draco found himself looking forward to this project with her.
****
“Granger, you’ve heard of a computer, haven’t you?”
Hermione looked up from her work, surprised to see Draco standing in her doorway. She blinked at him, diverting her attention from the papers on her desk to his question. “A computer? Of course.” She grinned, because for all the years Draco had spent learning about Muggle technology, he couldn't grasp which appliances were common and which weren’t. He had once asked her if he could borrow her electron microscope so he could look at his own cells.
“You have? Good, I thought you might.” He entered her office and sat down opposite her. “Internet too?” At her nod, he continued, “and this website called YouTube?”
“Yes Malfoy, and I think most people in the developed world- and many in the developing countries- have too.”
“Really? Oh dear.”
“Why do you ask?”
Draco took a deep breath, a sure sign that he was about to divulge bad news. “A video showing a still unidentified wizard casting spells has just gone- I’ve been told this is the right word to use- viral. Essentially a break of the Statute of Secrecy with the aid of Muggle social media.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened incredulously. “A video of magic on YouTube?”
“I’m afraid so. I thought it was bad enough, but you said that essentially billions of people around the world have access to it. I had seriously underestimated the magnitude.”
“Has the video been deleted?”
“Yes, and the user’s account too. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“It would be, except that I’m guessing some viewers from around the world have saved the video and could upload it again. It’s impossible to get rid of it, unless we hunt each of them down. Or perhaps there is, I’m not an expert in computers.”
“Arthur thinks our best bet is to just let the Muggles think that the video is a fake, and they probably will because it’s easy to fake those things with computers.”
“I think so too. But you’re here because?”
“We have to find the wizard who did it.”
Hermione groaned and closed her eyes, massaging her temples. “I was afraid you’d say that. I’m already up to my eyeballs in paperwork, and they add this to my workload...” She trailed off and with a great sigh, opened her eyes and sat up straight. “Alright. Let me clear up what I’ve started, shouldn’t take me more than an hour, and then we can meet to discuss the case.”
Draco stood. “Works for me. I’ll see if there’s any other information Arthur’s been able to get. Here’s the file.”
“Thanks.”
Two weeks of hard work later, Draco and Hermione finally had a breakthrough. Though the Muggle world persisted in believing the videos were fake - indeed, hundreds of fake Muggle-made videos had surfaced - they still had to track down the real culprit, and the fake Muggle videos weren’t helping.
“Claude Hermes Wyndhart,” Draco announced, entering Hermione’s office and throwing Wyndhart’s file on her desk. “Our Internet experts have finally somehow managed to pin it all on him.”
Curious, Hermione drew the folder towards her and glanced briefly at the photo. A nondescript, decent-looking bloke, the kind one might pass on the street and not give a second glance to. Then the photo sneered at her, and Hermione gasped. He suddenly looked arrogant, high and mighty, and incredibly like -
“He looks like you,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Draco looked affronted. “Of course he doesn’t! Claude was the ugliest of all my cousins, I’ll have you know.”
“Ah, so you are related!”
“We were. We’re not anymore.” Draco studied the photograph. “I haven’t seen him for years.”
“How can you be unrelated now?”
“Stopped being related when we found out he wasn’t quite cut out to be a wizard, so to speak.” Draco looked at her significantly. “You know, he was a twig short of a wand. Fell asleep while Merlin was handing out favors.”
Hermione stared at him in incomprehension.
“Good God, Granger, he was a Squib!” Draco huffed exasperatedly.
“So he was disowned by your family?” she asked incredulously. “For something completely beyond his control?”
“He was disowned by his family Granger, the Malfoys had nothing to do with it.” He flung himself into the chair across from her and tapped Claude’s name. “The Wyndharts are one of the oldest Pureblood families. Their very name is a contraction of ‘wand-heart’. They’re that old, that pure, and that powerful. To have a Squib son was quite unthinkable. Uncle Claudius made sure Claude was well-provided for, of course. I see it didn’t stop him from becoming quite bitter.”
“Wouldn’t you be if you were disowned by your family for something you couldn’t help? Say, for having ugly hair?”
Draco’s hand immediately flew to pat his perfectly arranged locks. “Not only is that a completely different scenario, Granger, considering there are ways of fixing such a problem, it’s also incredibly implausible. For you, on the other hand, it’s entirely plausible that you’d have been disowned in Hogwarts.” He studied her contemplatively. “Perhaps you’d be re-owned now, though.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “Was there a compliment buried in there?”
“Figure it out,” was all the answer she got. “Smartest witch of her age, and all that.”
“Right.” Rather than continue down a path that Hermione suspected would soon make her uncomfortable, she scanned Claude’s file again. “And what of his accomplice? Who is the wizard in the videos?”
“We don’t know yet. Hopefully when we nab Claude, we can find him. Or he might be completely innocent. I’m not even sure if he knew he was being filmed.”
“We’d better get started on getting a warrant if we want to achieve something soon.” Hermione jumped slightly when Draco lightly tossed a piece of parchment in front of her.
“Done. We just need to go get him.”
“Efficient.” She flipped through Wyndhart’s file. “Have you got a plan?”
“Knock like we always do?”
Hermione shook her head. “As rich and technologically-savvy as he is, I’m sure he’s got security cameras strung up all over the place. He’d probably recognize you and either run or fight back. If you do come with me, I think you should stay hidden.”
“If?” Draco scoffed. “There’s no question of that! What if you stay hidden? He might think it’s just a social visit from his former cousin.”
“And when was the last time his former cousin paid him a social visit?”
“I’ve been to visit him about as many times as you have.”
“None, then.” Hermione tapped her quill on the desk, plotting. “I still think I should go. With a charm, he may not recognize me.”
“I could be charmed too!”
“Yes, but do you think he might have ways of being alerted if a blood relative steps onto his property?”
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “In case you’ve forgotten, he’s a Squib.”
“Just because he’s a Squib doesn’t mean there’s no magic around his house. It just means he didn’t cast the spell.”
“He could very well detect the charms on you then, if he can detect familial ties. We’re not directly related, you know,” he said, wrinkling his nose like it was distasteful to be directly related to a Squib.
Hermione sighed and stood up. “We’re going nowhere. Come on, let’s go see Harry.”
“What for?” Draco asked suspiciously.
“His Invisibility cloak. We can continue this discussion on the way.” She waited until he was out of her office before locking it with a wave of her wand. “I still think it’s best if I go in - he’s more likely to underestimate a woman and besides, it’s my job to do the arrests here. What would you be able to do?”
“Gain entry, of course. Isn’t that what we’ve been discussing? I’ll get us in, then you make the arrest. Do keep up, Granger, please.”
In the end, it was Hermione who walked up to Wyndhart’s rather large house and Draco who stayed hidden. Although they were partners and therefore equals, Draco’s field was more on the ‘Muggle artifacts’ side whereas Hermione was trained to make arrests. She could have Apparated into the house, as preliminary tests showed there were no wards, but it was only polite to do it the Muggle way.
“This cloak stinks like Potter,” Draco was mumbling behind her. “Can’t breathe in here.”
“Oh, hush.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Hermione casually glanced back to make sure Draco was completely hidden by the cloak. Satisfied that he was, she rang the doorbell.
For several tense moments, there was no answer. Hermione could feel Draco getting restless beside her. She was just about to buzz again when a loud crackling sound made them both jump, and a voice came over the intercom.
"Yes? Who is it?"
"Mr. Wyndhart? I'm here to speak to you on official business." Hermione was hesitant to give out her name. She sometimes wished it weren't so memorable. She wasn't sure how much Squibs knew of the war against Voldemort -it probably depended on the Squib- but she wasn't about to risk having him run.
"What business?"
"Legal matters, sir."
There was a pause. "May I know to whom I am speaking, please?"
There was no way for it. Draco might have lied but Hermione was never good at giving false names. "Miss Granger," she said reluctantly. she could practically hear Draco rolling his eyes. She held her breath, waiting to see if Wyndart would let them in.
"I'll be right there." And indeed, he was. Hermione suspected he had been by the door almost the entire time.
Claude Hermes Wyndart stood before her, looking at her curiously. Without the sneer he was almost handsome. He carried himself like a typical wealthy Pureblood, although Hermione knew he hadn't lived with his family since being disowned at the age of eleven. She felt a twinge of sympathy him.
"Miss Granger," he said politely, holding out his hand. "How do you do?"
"Mr. Wyndhart, you are under arrest for breaking the Statute of Secrecy of the Wizarding World, which is upheld by wizards-"
"The what?" Wyndart looked at her incredulously.
"-and Squibs alike. You posted on the Muggle website YouTube several videos-"
"Wizards? Muggles? Miss Granger, what are you talking about?" Wyndhart eyed her distastefully. "if you're here to sell girl scout cookies or some such matter-"
"I'm here to arrest you."
"Yes, so you said. But for what? For posting videos on YouTube? Everyone does it, Miss Granger."
Hermione was getting frustrated. This man was playing innocent. "Mr. Wyndhart, you are aware, are you not, that Squibs such as yourself are still bound by the Statute of Secrecy?"
"Squib? What on earth are you talking about now?"
"Mr. Wyndhart, your parents-"
"Died in a car crash when I was eleven. Were they “Squibs” too?" He sighed exasperatedly. "You're wasting my time, Miss Granger."
Hermione paused. Could he have been Obliviated? It was possible- in fact, it might have been an act of kindness.
Draco poked her back. She knew what it meant. Focus. Wyndhart was guilty. He was lying through his teeth.
"I need you to come with me to answer a few questions," she said.
He frowned. "It's not that I don't trust you, Miss Granger, as you seem like a very nice sort of little girl- young lady, I beg your pardon- but I've never met you before, and I have no idea what you're talking about. Perhaps you can step inside for a moment to explain things?"
Step into my parlor, Hermione thought. “Of course.” Just as she stepped inside, she looked back, seemingly checking on her car. The door swung shut a little too quickly. Damn. She wasn’t sure if Draco had made it in.
“Your car?” asked Wyndhart.
“Just making sure it’s still there,” she said, nodding. “I always like to check.”
“Indeed.” He led her to a room just off the main entrance. Hermione looked around, taking in the details of the house. Wyndhart was evidently well-off. His decor suited him - it wasn’t overdone but there were some hints of flashiness. He opened a door and beckoned for her to enter. “After you.”
Smiling politely at him, Hermione entered the room - only to stop short at the sight of two armed men pointing their pistols right at her. “Oh God.”
Behind her, Wyndhart closed the door. “Surprised, Hermione?”
He knew her name. He knew exactly who she was. Hermione could only hope that Draco had somehow made it into the room.
"Not entirely," she admitted honestly, her mind racing. She could definitely take out the two in front of her, but did Wyndhart also have a gun? She could attempt Apparating, but she didn’t know if any anti-Apparition charms were up, and if she turned on the spot she was almost sure to be shot. Her emergency Portkey was around her neck, and if she moved an inch Wyndhart would most likely punish her in some way.
“Is that so? I must say, Hermione, I expected my pathetic cousin to be here.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know who you mean,” Hermione replied, as coldly as possible.
“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you? My cousin, Malfoy! He is your partner, isn’t he? Perhaps he’s around here somewhere.” Wyndhart walked around her, and to her relief, his hands were empty.
“Malfoy works for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. I can’t imagine why you think he’d be present for an arrest.”
“Ah, yes, yes. Let the Aurors do the dirty work. Well, Hermione, I’m quite glad this is the case. Now, I’ve got the most famous Mudblood in my lair. I can see you plotting your escape, you know. If your hand so much as twitches towards your wand, you’ll be shot.”
“What do you hope to achieve with all this? I’m one witch, what would it matter?”
“Witch?” The sneer on Wyndhart’s face rivalled Draco’s at his worst. “You’re nothing but a Mudblood. An anomaly. You’re abnormal. Muggle parents, magical talent. And I’m abnormal too. Magical parents, but practically a Muggle. You don’t deserve a wand. I do.”
“You wouldn’t be able to use it.”
“Don’t speak!” Wyndhart was breathing hard, a slightly mad look in his eyes. “Your death will send a signal to all Mudbloods to leave the wizarding world.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “My death?” she asked incredulously. “I’m not that important, Wyndhart. Your plan is stupid and doomed to fail.”
“Kill her!” he screamed at his two minions, and Hermione leaped for cover as she reached for her wand. There was nothing really to hide behind, and she yelled as a bullet hit her leg. She set up a shield charm, but suddenly everything was over. She blinked at the three men lying on the floor.
“Brave but incredibly stupid, Granger.” The disembodied voice could only belong to Draco.
“Draco!” Hermione gasped, “where were you? Couldn’t you have Stunned them before I got hit?”
Draco appeared next to her, crouching down to inspect her wounded leg. He carefully severed her pants off below the knee, wincing at the bloody mess. “I was outside. He closed the door before I could get in. I called for back-up, though, and I was listening to the conversation the entire time.”
The other Aurors were indeed tying up the three men. One hurried over to assess her injuries. Hermione grimaced as James manoeuvered her into a position that allowed him to see the damage to her leg. “It actually doesn’t look so bad. I’m sure St. Mungo’s can fix it.”
“Great. Hurts like hell, though.”
“It’ll hurt a lot more when the adrenaline wears off,” James said. “You’d better get there quick and take a pain potion.”
“I’ll take her,” Draco said. He floated her easily, then paused. “I think I have to hold you. You can’t land properly with your leg like that.”
“Go ahead.” Hermione didn’t care what he did as long as the pain went away sooner.
Draco gingerly slipped an arm beneath her knees, trying not to jostle her legs. Once he had her in position he ended the spell and her full weight settled in his arms. She activated her emergency Port Key and they soon found themselves in the familiar emergency ward of St. Mungo. In no time at all Healers were milling around Hermione, and Draco set her down on a stretcher that one of them had Summoned.
“I’ll call Potter or someone,” he offered.
“No need. This shouldn’t take long, gunshots are usually relatively easy to heal. Just wait for me, will you?”
However, it soon became clear that Hermione’s wound wouldn’t heal as quickly as she would have liked. The gun had been fired close-range, and the damage to her leg was significant. Draco had gone back to the crime scene to tie up loose ends and had informed Arthur and Potter of Hermione’s condition. The Weasleys and Potter had gathered, as was their custom, in the waiting room while Hermione was still under a Sleeping Spell. Draco waited with them, just wanting to see Hermione before he left.
It was just before nine in the evening when Draco was allowed to see her. As her partner, he was given permission to debrief her before leaving her at the mercy of the rather rowdy and hysterical Weasleys. He entered the room slightly hesitantly and was relieved to see her looking none the worse for the wear.
“Draco!” Hermione beamed. “My first visitor. What news?”
“Wyndhart and his goons - also Squibs, by the way, and the wizard in the video had no idea he was being filmed, apparently- have all been arrested. He’s gone barmy, in my opinion. Seemed to have a personal grudge against you. He’s been following your career and he didn’t like the fact that a Muggleborn was more powerful than Purebloods - certainly that you were more powerful than him,” explained Draco. “While he wasn’t involved with the other cases we handled, he did set this one up in the hopes that you would be the one to come to arrest him. Not a very foolproof plan, but he planned on killing everyone until the MLE finally sent you.”
“Good thing we were the first, then.” Hermione shuddered to think of others dying on her account.
“Mm.” Draco glanced sceptically at her leg. He didn’t think it was a good thing at all. “How’s the leg?”
“Not too bad. My limp had just gone away but now it looks like it will be back.” She smiled ruefully. “At least I’ve still got my leg.”
Draco’s eyebrows rose. “Are you under a Cheering Charm or something? You’re far too happy for someone who’s just been shot at.”
She shrugged. “Just making the most of a bad situation.” They were silent for a few moments, before Hermione sighed. “I’m tired of people trying to kill me, you know. I’m a good person, aren’t I?”
“One of the best,” Draco agreed sincerely, surprising even himself.
“I might be a bit of a know-it-all, but I’m not horrible, am I?”
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments.” Before Hermione could protest, he continued, “Look, Granger, I need to hand you over to the Weasleys soon, but there was actually something I was going to ask you.” He looked at her steadily for a while to make sure he had her full attention before glancing back down at the bedcovers. “What Wyndhart was saying about you not deserving a wand - that’s not true at all. You’re much more a witch - or a wizard - than he could ever hope to be, even if he did have magic.”
Hermione smiled slightly. “Thanks, Draco. That’s really sweet.” She sighed again. “I just wish we could all have magic. All of us. Then there wouldn’t be Muggles or Squibs or Wizards. We would all be the same. We would all fit in.”
“Hey now,” Draco objected. “Who would have created my television, then? Or my car? No, Muggles are good to have around. Besides, if there were no Muggles, I’d be out of a job.”
That earned him a laugh.
“Also,” he continued, “over the last few months I’ve come to appreciate having you as a partner. I think we make a good team. Which brings me to my question.” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering if we’d be just as good together if we weren’t just partners - if we were something more like friends, or more than friends. I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me sometime. Like a date,” he clarified. “Not a job.”
Draco kept his eyes on the bed covers, his finger nervously tracing the patterns on it. He would have completely missed Hermione’s smile if she hadn’t grabbed his hand and forced him to look up at her.
“Yes.”
****
“We’ve got a case of charmed shoes.”
Hermione looked up from her work and frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Charmed shoes. Arthur received word of it and passed it on to the Auror Department. It would have stayed within our department if the Muggle wearing the shoes hadn’t experienced serious physical harm. As it is, these Sonic Hedgehog shoes-”
“Oh, Merlin,” Hermione cut him off, closing her eyes and massaging her temples. “Let me guess- dehydration and physical exhaustion?”
“Amongst other problems,” Draco confirmed.
“Sounds like an easy enough case. Can’t someone else do it?”
“That’s what I thought. But Arthur said Potter told him to send his best and brightest, and that would be the two of us.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Harry knows I’m introducing you to my parents tonight. I think he wants you to be late and make a bad impression.”
Draco scoffed. “That’s a stupid idea. You’ll be with me, so you can always tell them we’ll both be late.”
“Yes, but Harry’s motto has always been ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’. And anyway, we won’t be late.”
“We won’t?”
“My parents can’t tolerate tardiness, and I hate it too.” Hermione stood up and walked around her desk, coming to a stop in front of Draco. “So we’ll both go and get this case sorted out, I estimate it will only take just over an hour, and then while you write up the case, I’ll pay my bespectacled friend a visit.”
“You get to do the fun part,” Draco pouted, slipping his arms around her. “But I won’t mind as long as you make me look good in front of you parents.”
“You don’t need my help for that,” Hermione replied, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. “Just tell them the story of how you saved me from your evil cousin Wyndhart. They’ve heard it from me, of course, but I’m sure they’ll ask you about it.”
“Right. Well, we’d better go. Time is running on.”
“If we’re late, I’ll blame it on Harry,” Hermione promised, slipping out of Draco’s hold to gather her things. “I’ll make him apologize to them on our behalf- in verse.”
Draco chuckled. “In that case, I don’t see any reason to be on time.”
“If we’re late because of you, mister,” Hermione emphasized her point by poking her finger into Draco’s chest, “I’ll make you showcase your talents to my parents with a rendition of Dr. Granger is our King.”
“Evil woman!” Draco complained. He waited until Hermione had everything she needed, and the second she was done, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “Let’s go, then.” They Disapparated with a pop.
ferretbush_post is the account the mods use to post the gifts. It has not created any of the gifts.
Title: Partners in Crime
Author: pips_n_chiaw
Rating: PG-13
Recipient: Our Pinch Hitters
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all other characters, etc. are property of J.K. Rowling.
Warning(s): Mild use of swears.
Author/Artist Note(s): Thanks to lucillajoanna for editing this fic! Your feedback was invaluable. It was admittedly challenging to write given the stresses of RL…but hopefully you like it :)
Summary: There are some adventures you can't go through without ending up liking each other, as Hermione learned in First Year. Now, it's Draco's turn to learn this lesson.
The sudden burst of magic knocked Hermione off her feet, and she landed on her side with a sickening crack and no small amount of pain. Beside her, her partner swore violently, scrambling to his feet.
“Granger, you okay?” he asked brusquely, turning her over. Still slightly dazed, Hermione found herself staring into Draco Malfoy’s anxious grey eyes. His hair was messier than she had ever seen it and he had a scratch on his cheek. She found it awfully hard to get her breath back while staring at him.
“I think I sprained my wrist,” she said, turning her attention to her throbbing right wrist. She had reflexively put out her hand to stop her fall, despite all her MLE training telling her not to. “Oh no!” She gasped in dismay, seeing for the first time that she held only half of a wand. The other piece lay uselessly on the ground. She remembered the cracking sound she had heard and couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed that it was her wand, and not her wrist, that had broken. If it had been her wrist, then Draco could have possibly fixed it with her wand. Now, they were wandless, as the thugs had disarmed Draco and taken his wand.
Draco picked up the broken piece and plucked the other half from her hand, aligning the pieces.
“Hey! That’s my - What are you doing?” Hermione stood up, watching in confusion as Draco gripped the middle of her wand, holding the two pieces together, and waved it frantically.
“Honestly, Granger, I thought it was your wand that snapped, not your brain. We have to go after them.”
“How-”
Without warning, a triple-decker purple bus appeared in front of them. Hermione would have fallen down if Draco hadn’t steadied her. The Knight Bus. She’d only taken it once in her life, and it was an experience she’d hoped never to repeat.
“You didn’t need to wave a wand,” she muttered dourly, grabbing her wand from him as the door flew open, just to prove that she knew something.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded- Tchoo doin’?” Stan Shunpike broke off as Draco barged onto the bus, Hermione at his heels.
“I’m on the MLE,” Hermione said, fishing out her badge. “We need the bus. Everybody off, please!” She raised her voice as she addressed the passengers.
“Now wait just a second,” Stan protested. “You can’t just-”
“I said EVERYBODY OFF!” Hermione yelled again before turning to Stan. “Mr. Shunpike, I am Hermione Granger, an officer of the MLE. We need the bus to pursue some criminals. I’m afraid you have no choice but to comply.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see that Draco had persuaded the driver - she couldn’t tell if it was Ernie - to stand up. “Are there any more passengers upstairs?” she asked Stan over her shoulder, moving to help an elderly witch gather her belongings.
“No, just them three,” he said, hovering uselessly behind her. Hermione shoved some of the witch’s luggage into Stan’s hands and ordered him to exit the bus. She was pumped full of adrenaline, eager to catch her quarry, and had the bus cleared relatively quickly, borrowing Ernie’s wand to send a Patronus to the MLE to let them know of the stranded group.
The door had barely closed behind her when the Knight Bus leaped forward, causing her to bang painfully against a pole. “Ow,” she complained, staggering to Draco’s side. He glanced at her in the mirror and only just managed to avoid a collision with another bus. Trust the Ministry to give her a partner who would happily have her die in a car crash.
“You should have kept his wand.” He slammed on the brakes as they came to a red light and turned to look at her as she struggled to maintain her balance. “Would have been the smart thing to do.”
“Wizards don’t give up their wands to strangers, even if I am part of the MLE,” she retorted, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “There would have been no guarantee when he would get it back. Besides, I’m trained in wandless magic.”
“It’s still not as effective as having a wand. Although perhaps no wand is better than your wand,” he said, eyeing the broken pieces sticking out of her pocket. “Drop and roll, Granger,” he reminded her patronizingly.
Hermione reddened. “I know,” she snapped. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she only had to tolerate him for one mission, and then they could get back to their separate lives and never have to see each other again, save for perhaps occasionally in a Ministry lift.
“I don’t suppose your training in wandless magic includes training in wandless apparating?” Draco asked.
“I have tried to learn, but it’s very difficult and risky. And the risk of splinching is enormous over distances as short as a few miles.” Deciding it would be wise to leave the subject of wands for the time being as there was nothing that could be done, she asked, “Why are we going to Harrogate, anyway? Their bases are in Dover and Coventry.”
“I heard the fat one say they’d head to Harrogate. You’d better take a seat,” he advised, shifting into first gear as the light turned yellow. “And keep your eyes peeled for the Ferrari. There’s still a chance we might catch up with them.”
Hermione huffed but did as she was told. She was just sitting down when the bus jumped forward, causing her to land rather heavily in her seat. She hated the Knight Bus. “I hope you heard them right, otherwise we’ll have lost them. Don’t you normally-” She stifled a scream as they narrowly dodged a building, but thankfully it seemed to move out of their way.
“Pull yourself together, officer,” Draco called over his shoulder, snickering at her predicament. He took a curve a bit too sharply, and the centrifugal force threw Hermione against the window. “What were you saying?”
“Arthur said you normally keep track of these magically altered Muggle things,” Hermione said, deciding to ignore Draco’s jibe. “He said you can even trace them.”
“The legal things. In case you haven’t noticed, this is illegal. Hence your presence here.”
“I was just asking, Malf- oh my God!” She tumbled forward as the bus screeched to a halt. “Did you hit it?”
“No,” Draco replied sourly, looking quite shaken himself, “the cat lives another day.”
“Alright, that’s it,” Hermione said, getting to her feet. “I’m driving.”
Draco was so stunned that he let her push him out of the driver’s seat. “You?”
“Why are you surprised? I drive to my parents’ place almost every weekend.” Having adjusted the seat, Hermione put the bus in gear and they started moving.
“I’ve heard of women drivers, never actually met one. And this is pathetic driving, Granger- the cat we just saw could walk circles around you.”
“I’m getting a feel for it,” Hermione replied as they accelerated. “You ought to try to drive more smoothly. The problem with wizard drivers is they don’t have to get a license- the magic on the cars usually helps prevent accidents. But they don’t learn good driving habits.”
“Smoothly? Smoothly? Yes, one can drive smoothly, but the adverb ‘slowly’ is more apt in this case.”
“Oh, hush. I read-”
“Of course you did.”
“-that female drivers are actually more aggressive than male ones.”
“Really? You must be one of the few who aren’t.” He faked a yawn when she glanced at him, but found the grin she was giving him a bit disturbing. “What?”
“Malfoy, when have you ever known me to be meek?” As soon as she said this, the bus slammed forward, although not with nearly as much jerking and rocking as it had under Draco’s control. He watched in amazement as Hermione shifted gears rapidly until they were flat out on the highest gear. And Draco hadn’t yet lost his footing.
It was with some admiration that he realised something that he would only ever admit under pain of death or dismemberment- that Hermione Granger was a better driver than he.
She and Draco had debated on whether or not to go straight to Harrogate and meet the thieves there or whether to drive along the route and try to catch them. They eventually decided to chance catching them en route as the Knight Bus was still faster than their magically enhanced Ferrari.
“I hadn’t realized the Knight Bus was so popular,” Hermione observed as she overtook a speeding Muggle car. “I feel quite sorry for them, they’ll probably be waiting for ages.”
“Focus, Granger, they’re not our concern now. We’re almost at Harrogate, keep your eyes peeled.”
They were silent for a few moments, but it was Draco who found himself losing focus, his gaze repeatedly straying to the driver. His mind was full of questions, of things he had never known about her. “So what car do you drive, Granger?”
“A Mini Cooper,” Hermione replied proudly. “It’s mostly Muggle with only a few modifications- all legal, of course. I did them all myself before I registered it with your department. When my Muggle friends see it, they see a plain, ordinary car. I don’t want them asking too many questions about my job or how much I make. What they don’t know is that it can fit the entire Weasley family.”
Draco’s eyebrows rose in incredulity but he chose not to tell her how impressed he was. He wasn’t all that surprised, since he had known about her talent at charms all the way back in their first year at Hogwarts. “I drive a Merc myself. SLR McLaren.”
“Wow.” Now it was Hermione who was impressed. “I’m partial to Merc’s, my dad always had one when I was growing up. I’m hoping my next car will be- look, that’s the Ferrari!”
They had just rounded a bend and sure enough, the yellow Ferrari they had been searching for was just metres in front of them. “Do you think they can see us?” Draco asked.
“They’ve just sped up so I’m pretty sure they can.”
Slowly, under Hermione’s expert guidance, the bus gained on the car. When it became inevitable that they would catch up, they were surprised to see the car completely miss a turn and plough straight into a tree. Hermione slammed on the brakes and opened the bus door. She was out before Draco had picked himself up off the floor.
“Homenum revelio,” she muttered, and there was no reaction. She cautiously approached the crashed car, and peered through the window. There was no one inside.
By then Draco had left the bus and was coming towards here. “Well?”
“They must have disapparated away. I wonder why they left the car, though, now we’ve got all the evidence we need.” She had barely finished speaking before an explosion tore through the scene and both of them were knocked to the ground.
Draco was up first. “Granger?” He had been further away from the blast and had miraculously managed to avoid any flying shrapnel. “Granger? Where are you?” He could hardly see for all the smoke, and he crawled to the spot he thought he had last seen her. Eventually he found her a few feet away, lying motionless.
“Granger, are you alright? Wake up! Shit, Granger,” he said as he assessed her injuries. She was bleeding from several spots, and part of her hair was smouldering. Draco quickly put it out, but she hadn’t yet woken. He glanced around desperately, knowing help could only be a few minutes away. Surely the Muggle police or the Ministry would have been alerted of the blast by some means. He took out his handkerchief and pressed it against her head, which was bleeding profusely. At that moment he felt he would do absolutely anything for a wand. The thought of having a dead Granger on his hands scared him more than anything. She was never like this - even as she was being tortured by Bellatrix she had fought back. To see her so limp and lifeless and dependent on him was worrisome.
“Come on, Granger,” he said coaxingly, shaking her again. When she didn’t respond, he swore and took off his necktie, tying it over a wound on her upper arm. The next casualty was his Ministry-issued robes - dimly he thought that he should have used them first, so Arthur would give him new ones - which he tore to bind around her leg. She was still losing a lot of blood.
Moments later, multiple pops signaled the arrival of the MLE. “Finally,” Draco sighed, standing up to meet them.
“What happened?” one of them asked, noticing Draco’s torn Ministry robes.
“We were chasing a couple of wizards illegally modifying Muggle cars. They bombed the car just as we reached it. My partner’s hurt,” Draco said, indicating Hermione. The man immediately began to shout orders to the other officers. Two of them began to tend to Hermione while the others went to inspect the car. Draco followed them, his mind still preoccupied.
His ‘partner’. He hadn’t asked for her, and he definitely hadn’t wanted her. But there it was, and he had said it without thinking - she was his partner.
Hermione walked into the Ministry a few days later with only a slight limp and a new haircut to show for her adventure. She headed straight to Draco’s office, determined to catch up on the latest developments of the case, details of which had been withheld from her despite her pleas for something to do - on Arthur’s orders, although she would bet her wand hand Molly had something to say about it. Her partner, whom one of the other MLE officers had described as the epitome of concern, had not even visited her to give her news, though Harry did tell her Draco visited shortly after she arrived at St. Mungo’s but she was still unconscious then.
She barely stopped to tap on his door before opening it and entering. Draco glanced up sharply as she walked into his slightly cramped office. His face betrayed no sign of surprise, although his gaze seemed to linger a little longer on her hair than was strictly necessary.
“Granger.” He indicated the seat across from him. “Shouldn’t you be at home?”
She ignored this. “Why haven’t I been given updates on the case? I’m still on it. Just because my body was affected doesn’t mean my mind was-” Hermione stopped short as Draco handed her a sheaf of parchment. “What’s this?”
“My notes on the case. I was under orders not to trouble you while you were recuperating, but this should get you up to speed fairly easily.” He had to wave the papers slightly before she accepted them, looking slightly suspicious.
“You made notes for me? I thought you would have been glad to be rid of me.”
“Yes, I did enjoy the few days of blessed silence,” Draco said, closing his eyes in imaginary bliss. “But I knew you’d come back to screech at me - you always do - and figured it would be best for all the ears in the Greater London area if I just gave you what you wanted.”
Hermione ignored most of his speech as it was nothing he hadn’t said before. “Good boy, Malfoy!” she exclaimed, beaming at him like the proud owner of a dog that had just learned a new trick. “You’ve finally learned that it’s best to just give me what I want. Well done.”
He scowled. “Just for this project, Granger. We’re forced to work together after all.” What Draco would never admit was that he was relieved she was back. Watching her die while waiting for help to come had been one of the most difficult things in his life, bringing back harsh memories of watching people die under the Dark Lord and his followers. He was relieved that she was well, but it didn’t stop him from wishing they would solve the case, part ways and never have to work together again.
“If I had had this sooner, we might be done with it by now,” she said, standing up and walking slowly to the door, trying to hide her limp. To her surprise, Draco stood and strode past her, holding the door open for her. His display of manners shocked her momentarily, and she paused on her way out to stare up at him. He had changed. He definitely wasn’t the same person she used to know, though he was still undeniably Draco Malfoy. Perhaps it had been the brief time he had spent in Azkaban or perhaps the change had started before that, when Voldemort had occupied Malfoy Manor. Hermione doubted she would ever know.
“Take it easy, Granger,” he said, and she thought she detected some kindness in his voice. “We’ll catch them soon enough.”
****
Draco clenched his jaw as he raced towards Hermione, who was desperately trying to regain control of her broom. A more experienced flier, he knew it was hopeless and urged his broom to go faster. “Hermione!” Her name slipped from his lips without him even noticing. She twisted her head to look at him, eyes wide with fear, never letting go of the broom. A red curse flew precariously close to Draco’s elbow but he ignored it. “Grab my hand!”
For a split second she looked at him like he was insane, then decided it was possibly the only chance she had. She lunged towards him, hands outstretched, and he caught her, pulling her onto the broom in front of him with no small amount of difficulty. Her own broom tumbled to the ground without its rider. She tapped him with her wand and the spell slid down his skin; Draco knew he’d been Disillusioned.
“Fucking ambush,” he growled, bringing them even lower, into the canopy of trees that, though difficult to fly in, served as a good cover. He struggled to turn the broom to the right, barely missing a tree. “Lean into the turn, Granger, don’t fight it!” he snapped. “Follow my lead.”
He heard her take a deep breath as she steadied her nerves. He realized she was trembling slightly. Frustrated, he tried not to wonder for the hundredth time why his superiors insisted on pairing him with Granger. Yes, they had worked relatively well together during their first paired mission, and once Hermione had recovered from the Exploding Ferrari Incident they had quickly managed to round up the gang responsible for illegally magically enhancing and reselling Muggle cars. That didn’t mean they would work well together all the time.
Draco had to admit, however, that being paired with Granger had some perks. He would never get any fun otherwise, if constantly being the target of Unforgivables counted as fun. His position in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office - a position given by the oh-so-witty-think-they’re-so-clever Wizengamot to ‘help him appreciate Muggles by placing him in close contact with them and their inventions’ - meant mostly desk work. Occasionally his boss, Arthur Weasley, would take Draco along with him to assist in confiscating the damned Muggle objects, but more often than not Draco sat in his office surrounded by mis-enchanted electronics and the like, trying to disenchant them. At first he had absolutely loathed the work and had been incredibly bitter towards any Muggle object unfortunate enough to have been bewitched. Eventually, though, he became fascinated by how the gizmos worked without magic, and his curiosity in that respect was one of the reasons he was so good at what he did. Within a year Draco had become a veritable expert on both the magical and non-magical aspects of enchanted objects. His superiors decided it would be useful for him to tag along when an MLE officer (namely, Granger) had to get involved to trace and track down people illegally enhancing Muggle items.
Like vacuum cleaners. For Merlin’s sake. As if brooms didn’t go fast enough, there were now new flying hoovers on the black market, supposedly able to go faster than the latest racing broom. They were also incredibly dangerous, the spells on them being haphazardly cast and clashing with the electronics of the hoover. Some thrill-seekers had taken to organizing illegal Quidditch matches played on the modified machines. They were faster but brooms were nimbler, and it was only because of this that Draco was able to stay ahead of the six men chasing them, darting through the trees.
Hermione yelled a spell, and bright beams of light exploded from her wand, clinging onto the trees they passed. Draco instinctively ducked but they passed straight through it. He didn’t bother turning around to see what had happened, but he could tell from the frustrated yells of their pursuers that several of them had gotten caught in the trap. Hermione turned to look and grinned.
“Four down,” she said. “I added a Portkey spell, it should activate soon.”
Hermione’s ability to blend spells was almost as legendary as her intelligence. “I hope you sent them straight into Potter’s bedroom,” Draco said sincerely. “He didn’t warn us that these goons would be expecting us.”
“They should be in the Ministry,” Hermione replied distractedly, turning to look over his shoulder again. “Only two left, should we take them? Do a sharp u-turn, I doubt they’ll expect that, and then we’ll stun them.”
Draco shook his head, still focused on avoiding nearby branches. “Not a chance. It’s too risky. Just use that spell again.”
“They’ll be expecting it. Come on, how much longer can you keep this up? What if there’s a thicket we can’t pass through? Trust me, Draco. It’ll be fine. We’re Disillusioned anyway.”
He hesitated for a moment, then relented. “Granger, just so you know, if it were any other MLE officer, I’d refuse.” As he turned the broom sharply, he heard her chuckle and could just imagine the smile lighting up her face. Although adrenaline was already coursing through his body, the knowledge that he’d made her smile seemed to make his heart beat just a little bit faster.
There had been subtle yet significant changes in their relationship since their partnership had begun, Hermione had realized. As exasperating as it was working with Malfoy, she found that she didn’t dread going in to work like she used to - on some days, she rather looked forward to it. Though at times incredibly annoying, Malfoy did add spice to her otherwise somewhat boring and routine job. As far as revelations went, it wasn’t particularly earth-shattering - Hermione knew that it was only logical for her relationship with Malfoy to undergo certain changes as time went on, and being thrown into two life-threatening situations probably hastened the process. Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one who noticed.
“So what’s going on between you two?”
Hermione shared a look with Draco. “Er, nothing?” She didn’t bother asking what made Ginny think that; in Hermione’s opinion, the sooner they got off the topic, the better.
“There’s some chemistry, some tension between you two, I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it!”
“Ginny, please leave. Our meeting should have started five minutes ago, it’s a very important case,” Hermione pleaded.
Draco, on the other hand, was humouring Ginny. “Oh we have noticed it. Discussed it countless times, in fact. It’s called despising each other.”
“Now you’re just in denial.”
“No, we’re not.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“Who?”
Ginny faltered. “Um, sorry?”
“Who say they’re in denial? And don’t say ‘everyone’, because that’s not true. I want names, Weasley.” Draco watched her squirm with a smirk.
“Honestly, Hermione, why do you fancy him?” Ginny asked exasperatedly.
There was silence, as both Draco and Hermione looked at each other. Hermione had expected Draco to reply, since he had been doing most of the talking up to that point anyway, and Draco waited for Hermione to say something. Eventually, Hermione, who was rather pink, cleared her throat and reminded Ginny that they had all wasted five minutes and there was a case to discuss. “So, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll just see you tomorrow.”
“Fine, I guess I’ll go. Bye Hermione!” Pointedly ignoring Draco, Ginny left the room.
The two remaining exchanged a glance, and after a second Draco handed the file he was holding to Hermione. He sat down opposite her. “Case of exploding marbles. Not meant to seriously hurt someone, so they were quite popular with kids who used them for pranks and games, and the man started producing them on a larger scale, selling them to Muggles as well. When we tried to question him about it, he fled, and has been on the run since.”
Hermione opened the folder and skimmed through it briefly. “All right, tell me what you know.”
“It’s similar magic to what’s used in Gobstones,” he explained somewhat distractedly, taking advantage of her preoccupation to study her features. Though not conventionally pretty, he thought she had her own sort of beauty about her - a kind of strength and confidence that he found quite admirable. The blush hadn’t left her cheeks, and Draco decided he quite liked her flustered. He hadn’t missed that she hadn’t denied fancying him, but instead of calling her out on it he filed the information away for thinking about later on. “Not dangerous in themselves but certainly not something we want getting into Muggle hands. Muggle Health and Safety officials are already beginning to investigate the marbles.”
“Merlin. Some people just don’t think, do they?” she sighed, taking out her quill to make notes. Draco watched in silence as she jotted a few things down. He enjoyed watching her work. “Right. Let’s get started, shall we?”
To his surprise, Draco found himself looking forward to this project with her.
****
“Granger, you’ve heard of a computer, haven’t you?”
Hermione looked up from her work, surprised to see Draco standing in her doorway. She blinked at him, diverting her attention from the papers on her desk to his question. “A computer? Of course.” She grinned, because for all the years Draco had spent learning about Muggle technology, he couldn't grasp which appliances were common and which weren’t. He had once asked her if he could borrow her electron microscope so he could look at his own cells.
“You have? Good, I thought you might.” He entered her office and sat down opposite her. “Internet too?” At her nod, he continued, “and this website called YouTube?”
“Yes Malfoy, and I think most people in the developed world- and many in the developing countries- have too.”
“Really? Oh dear.”
“Why do you ask?”
Draco took a deep breath, a sure sign that he was about to divulge bad news. “A video showing a still unidentified wizard casting spells has just gone- I’ve been told this is the right word to use- viral. Essentially a break of the Statute of Secrecy with the aid of Muggle social media.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened incredulously. “A video of magic on YouTube?”
“I’m afraid so. I thought it was bad enough, but you said that essentially billions of people around the world have access to it. I had seriously underestimated the magnitude.”
“Has the video been deleted?”
“Yes, and the user’s account too. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”
“It would be, except that I’m guessing some viewers from around the world have saved the video and could upload it again. It’s impossible to get rid of it, unless we hunt each of them down. Or perhaps there is, I’m not an expert in computers.”
“Arthur thinks our best bet is to just let the Muggles think that the video is a fake, and they probably will because it’s easy to fake those things with computers.”
“I think so too. But you’re here because?”
“We have to find the wizard who did it.”
Hermione groaned and closed her eyes, massaging her temples. “I was afraid you’d say that. I’m already up to my eyeballs in paperwork, and they add this to my workload...” She trailed off and with a great sigh, opened her eyes and sat up straight. “Alright. Let me clear up what I’ve started, shouldn’t take me more than an hour, and then we can meet to discuss the case.”
Draco stood. “Works for me. I’ll see if there’s any other information Arthur’s been able to get. Here’s the file.”
“Thanks.”
Two weeks of hard work later, Draco and Hermione finally had a breakthrough. Though the Muggle world persisted in believing the videos were fake - indeed, hundreds of fake Muggle-made videos had surfaced - they still had to track down the real culprit, and the fake Muggle videos weren’t helping.
“Claude Hermes Wyndhart,” Draco announced, entering Hermione’s office and throwing Wyndhart’s file on her desk. “Our Internet experts have finally somehow managed to pin it all on him.”
Curious, Hermione drew the folder towards her and glanced briefly at the photo. A nondescript, decent-looking bloke, the kind one might pass on the street and not give a second glance to. Then the photo sneered at her, and Hermione gasped. He suddenly looked arrogant, high and mighty, and incredibly like -
“He looks like you,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
Draco looked affronted. “Of course he doesn’t! Claude was the ugliest of all my cousins, I’ll have you know.”
“Ah, so you are related!”
“We were. We’re not anymore.” Draco studied the photograph. “I haven’t seen him for years.”
“How can you be unrelated now?”
“Stopped being related when we found out he wasn’t quite cut out to be a wizard, so to speak.” Draco looked at her significantly. “You know, he was a twig short of a wand. Fell asleep while Merlin was handing out favors.”
Hermione stared at him in incomprehension.
“Good God, Granger, he was a Squib!” Draco huffed exasperatedly.
“So he was disowned by your family?” she asked incredulously. “For something completely beyond his control?”
“He was disowned by his family Granger, the Malfoys had nothing to do with it.” He flung himself into the chair across from her and tapped Claude’s name. “The Wyndharts are one of the oldest Pureblood families. Their very name is a contraction of ‘wand-heart’. They’re that old, that pure, and that powerful. To have a Squib son was quite unthinkable. Uncle Claudius made sure Claude was well-provided for, of course. I see it didn’t stop him from becoming quite bitter.”
“Wouldn’t you be if you were disowned by your family for something you couldn’t help? Say, for having ugly hair?”
Draco’s hand immediately flew to pat his perfectly arranged locks. “Not only is that a completely different scenario, Granger, considering there are ways of fixing such a problem, it’s also incredibly implausible. For you, on the other hand, it’s entirely plausible that you’d have been disowned in Hogwarts.” He studied her contemplatively. “Perhaps you’d be re-owned now, though.”
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “Was there a compliment buried in there?”
“Figure it out,” was all the answer she got. “Smartest witch of her age, and all that.”
“Right.” Rather than continue down a path that Hermione suspected would soon make her uncomfortable, she scanned Claude’s file again. “And what of his accomplice? Who is the wizard in the videos?”
“We don’t know yet. Hopefully when we nab Claude, we can find him. Or he might be completely innocent. I’m not even sure if he knew he was being filmed.”
“We’d better get started on getting a warrant if we want to achieve something soon.” Hermione jumped slightly when Draco lightly tossed a piece of parchment in front of her.
“Done. We just need to go get him.”
“Efficient.” She flipped through Wyndhart’s file. “Have you got a plan?”
“Knock like we always do?”
Hermione shook her head. “As rich and technologically-savvy as he is, I’m sure he’s got security cameras strung up all over the place. He’d probably recognize you and either run or fight back. If you do come with me, I think you should stay hidden.”
“If?” Draco scoffed. “There’s no question of that! What if you stay hidden? He might think it’s just a social visit from his former cousin.”
“And when was the last time his former cousin paid him a social visit?”
“I’ve been to visit him about as many times as you have.”
“None, then.” Hermione tapped her quill on the desk, plotting. “I still think I should go. With a charm, he may not recognize me.”
“I could be charmed too!”
“Yes, but do you think he might have ways of being alerted if a blood relative steps onto his property?”
Draco narrowed his eyes at her. “In case you’ve forgotten, he’s a Squib.”
“Just because he’s a Squib doesn’t mean there’s no magic around his house. It just means he didn’t cast the spell.”
“He could very well detect the charms on you then, if he can detect familial ties. We’re not directly related, you know,” he said, wrinkling his nose like it was distasteful to be directly related to a Squib.
Hermione sighed and stood up. “We’re going nowhere. Come on, let’s go see Harry.”
“What for?” Draco asked suspiciously.
“His Invisibility cloak. We can continue this discussion on the way.” She waited until he was out of her office before locking it with a wave of her wand. “I still think it’s best if I go in - he’s more likely to underestimate a woman and besides, it’s my job to do the arrests here. What would you be able to do?”
“Gain entry, of course. Isn’t that what we’ve been discussing? I’ll get us in, then you make the arrest. Do keep up, Granger, please.”
In the end, it was Hermione who walked up to Wyndhart’s rather large house and Draco who stayed hidden. Although they were partners and therefore equals, Draco’s field was more on the ‘Muggle artifacts’ side whereas Hermione was trained to make arrests. She could have Apparated into the house, as preliminary tests showed there were no wards, but it was only polite to do it the Muggle way.
“This cloak stinks like Potter,” Draco was mumbling behind her. “Can’t breathe in here.”
“Oh, hush.” Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Hermione casually glanced back to make sure Draco was completely hidden by the cloak. Satisfied that he was, she rang the doorbell.
For several tense moments, there was no answer. Hermione could feel Draco getting restless beside her. She was just about to buzz again when a loud crackling sound made them both jump, and a voice came over the intercom.
"Yes? Who is it?"
"Mr. Wyndhart? I'm here to speak to you on official business." Hermione was hesitant to give out her name. She sometimes wished it weren't so memorable. She wasn't sure how much Squibs knew of the war against Voldemort -it probably depended on the Squib- but she wasn't about to risk having him run.
"What business?"
"Legal matters, sir."
There was a pause. "May I know to whom I am speaking, please?"
There was no way for it. Draco might have lied but Hermione was never good at giving false names. "Miss Granger," she said reluctantly. she could practically hear Draco rolling his eyes. She held her breath, waiting to see if Wyndart would let them in.
"I'll be right there." And indeed, he was. Hermione suspected he had been by the door almost the entire time.
Claude Hermes Wyndart stood before her, looking at her curiously. Without the sneer he was almost handsome. He carried himself like a typical wealthy Pureblood, although Hermione knew he hadn't lived with his family since being disowned at the age of eleven. She felt a twinge of sympathy him.
"Miss Granger," he said politely, holding out his hand. "How do you do?"
"Mr. Wyndhart, you are under arrest for breaking the Statute of Secrecy of the Wizarding World, which is upheld by wizards-"
"The what?" Wyndart looked at her incredulously.
"-and Squibs alike. You posted on the Muggle website YouTube several videos-"
"Wizards? Muggles? Miss Granger, what are you talking about?" Wyndhart eyed her distastefully. "if you're here to sell girl scout cookies or some such matter-"
"I'm here to arrest you."
"Yes, so you said. But for what? For posting videos on YouTube? Everyone does it, Miss Granger."
Hermione was getting frustrated. This man was playing innocent. "Mr. Wyndhart, you are aware, are you not, that Squibs such as yourself are still bound by the Statute of Secrecy?"
"Squib? What on earth are you talking about now?"
"Mr. Wyndhart, your parents-"
"Died in a car crash when I was eleven. Were they “Squibs” too?" He sighed exasperatedly. "You're wasting my time, Miss Granger."
Hermione paused. Could he have been Obliviated? It was possible- in fact, it might have been an act of kindness.
Draco poked her back. She knew what it meant. Focus. Wyndhart was guilty. He was lying through his teeth.
"I need you to come with me to answer a few questions," she said.
He frowned. "It's not that I don't trust you, Miss Granger, as you seem like a very nice sort of little girl- young lady, I beg your pardon- but I've never met you before, and I have no idea what you're talking about. Perhaps you can step inside for a moment to explain things?"
Step into my parlor, Hermione thought. “Of course.” Just as she stepped inside, she looked back, seemingly checking on her car. The door swung shut a little too quickly. Damn. She wasn’t sure if Draco had made it in.
“Your car?” asked Wyndhart.
“Just making sure it’s still there,” she said, nodding. “I always like to check.”
“Indeed.” He led her to a room just off the main entrance. Hermione looked around, taking in the details of the house. Wyndhart was evidently well-off. His decor suited him - it wasn’t overdone but there were some hints of flashiness. He opened a door and beckoned for her to enter. “After you.”
Smiling politely at him, Hermione entered the room - only to stop short at the sight of two armed men pointing their pistols right at her. “Oh God.”
Behind her, Wyndhart closed the door. “Surprised, Hermione?”
He knew her name. He knew exactly who she was. Hermione could only hope that Draco had somehow made it into the room.
"Not entirely," she admitted honestly, her mind racing. She could definitely take out the two in front of her, but did Wyndhart also have a gun? She could attempt Apparating, but she didn’t know if any anti-Apparition charms were up, and if she turned on the spot she was almost sure to be shot. Her emergency Portkey was around her neck, and if she moved an inch Wyndhart would most likely punish her in some way.
“Is that so? I must say, Hermione, I expected my pathetic cousin to be here.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know who you mean,” Hermione replied, as coldly as possible.
“You don’t expect me to believe that, do you? My cousin, Malfoy! He is your partner, isn’t he? Perhaps he’s around here somewhere.” Wyndhart walked around her, and to her relief, his hands were empty.
“Malfoy works for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. I can’t imagine why you think he’d be present for an arrest.”
“Ah, yes, yes. Let the Aurors do the dirty work. Well, Hermione, I’m quite glad this is the case. Now, I’ve got the most famous Mudblood in my lair. I can see you plotting your escape, you know. If your hand so much as twitches towards your wand, you’ll be shot.”
“What do you hope to achieve with all this? I’m one witch, what would it matter?”
“Witch?” The sneer on Wyndhart’s face rivalled Draco’s at his worst. “You’re nothing but a Mudblood. An anomaly. You’re abnormal. Muggle parents, magical talent. And I’m abnormal too. Magical parents, but practically a Muggle. You don’t deserve a wand. I do.”
“You wouldn’t be able to use it.”
“Don’t speak!” Wyndhart was breathing hard, a slightly mad look in his eyes. “Your death will send a signal to all Mudbloods to leave the wizarding world.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Hermione couldn’t help but laugh. “My death?” she asked incredulously. “I’m not that important, Wyndhart. Your plan is stupid and doomed to fail.”
“Kill her!” he screamed at his two minions, and Hermione leaped for cover as she reached for her wand. There was nothing really to hide behind, and she yelled as a bullet hit her leg. She set up a shield charm, but suddenly everything was over. She blinked at the three men lying on the floor.
“Brave but incredibly stupid, Granger.” The disembodied voice could only belong to Draco.
“Draco!” Hermione gasped, “where were you? Couldn’t you have Stunned them before I got hit?”
Draco appeared next to her, crouching down to inspect her wounded leg. He carefully severed her pants off below the knee, wincing at the bloody mess. “I was outside. He closed the door before I could get in. I called for back-up, though, and I was listening to the conversation the entire time.”
The other Aurors were indeed tying up the three men. One hurried over to assess her injuries. Hermione grimaced as James manoeuvered her into a position that allowed him to see the damage to her leg. “It actually doesn’t look so bad. I’m sure St. Mungo’s can fix it.”
“Great. Hurts like hell, though.”
“It’ll hurt a lot more when the adrenaline wears off,” James said. “You’d better get there quick and take a pain potion.”
“I’ll take her,” Draco said. He floated her easily, then paused. “I think I have to hold you. You can’t land properly with your leg like that.”
“Go ahead.” Hermione didn’t care what he did as long as the pain went away sooner.
Draco gingerly slipped an arm beneath her knees, trying not to jostle her legs. Once he had her in position he ended the spell and her full weight settled in his arms. She activated her emergency Port Key and they soon found themselves in the familiar emergency ward of St. Mungo. In no time at all Healers were milling around Hermione, and Draco set her down on a stretcher that one of them had Summoned.
“I’ll call Potter or someone,” he offered.
“No need. This shouldn’t take long, gunshots are usually relatively easy to heal. Just wait for me, will you?”
However, it soon became clear that Hermione’s wound wouldn’t heal as quickly as she would have liked. The gun had been fired close-range, and the damage to her leg was significant. Draco had gone back to the crime scene to tie up loose ends and had informed Arthur and Potter of Hermione’s condition. The Weasleys and Potter had gathered, as was their custom, in the waiting room while Hermione was still under a Sleeping Spell. Draco waited with them, just wanting to see Hermione before he left.
It was just before nine in the evening when Draco was allowed to see her. As her partner, he was given permission to debrief her before leaving her at the mercy of the rather rowdy and hysterical Weasleys. He entered the room slightly hesitantly and was relieved to see her looking none the worse for the wear.
“Draco!” Hermione beamed. “My first visitor. What news?”
“Wyndhart and his goons - also Squibs, by the way, and the wizard in the video had no idea he was being filmed, apparently- have all been arrested. He’s gone barmy, in my opinion. Seemed to have a personal grudge against you. He’s been following your career and he didn’t like the fact that a Muggleborn was more powerful than Purebloods - certainly that you were more powerful than him,” explained Draco. “While he wasn’t involved with the other cases we handled, he did set this one up in the hopes that you would be the one to come to arrest him. Not a very foolproof plan, but he planned on killing everyone until the MLE finally sent you.”
“Good thing we were the first, then.” Hermione shuddered to think of others dying on her account.
“Mm.” Draco glanced sceptically at her leg. He didn’t think it was a good thing at all. “How’s the leg?”
“Not too bad. My limp had just gone away but now it looks like it will be back.” She smiled ruefully. “At least I’ve still got my leg.”
Draco’s eyebrows rose. “Are you under a Cheering Charm or something? You’re far too happy for someone who’s just been shot at.”
She shrugged. “Just making the most of a bad situation.” They were silent for a few moments, before Hermione sighed. “I’m tired of people trying to kill me, you know. I’m a good person, aren’t I?”
“One of the best,” Draco agreed sincerely, surprising even himself.
“I might be a bit of a know-it-all, but I’m not horrible, am I?”
“Now you’re just fishing for compliments.” Before Hermione could protest, he continued, “Look, Granger, I need to hand you over to the Weasleys soon, but there was actually something I was going to ask you.” He looked at her steadily for a while to make sure he had her full attention before glancing back down at the bedcovers. “What Wyndhart was saying about you not deserving a wand - that’s not true at all. You’re much more a witch - or a wizard - than he could ever hope to be, even if he did have magic.”
Hermione smiled slightly. “Thanks, Draco. That’s really sweet.” She sighed again. “I just wish we could all have magic. All of us. Then there wouldn’t be Muggles or Squibs or Wizards. We would all be the same. We would all fit in.”
“Hey now,” Draco objected. “Who would have created my television, then? Or my car? No, Muggles are good to have around. Besides, if there were no Muggles, I’d be out of a job.”
That earned him a laugh.
“Also,” he continued, “over the last few months I’ve come to appreciate having you as a partner. I think we make a good team. Which brings me to my question.” He cleared his throat. “I was wondering if we’d be just as good together if we weren’t just partners - if we were something more like friends, or more than friends. I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me sometime. Like a date,” he clarified. “Not a job.”
Draco kept his eyes on the bed covers, his finger nervously tracing the patterns on it. He would have completely missed Hermione’s smile if she hadn’t grabbed his hand and forced him to look up at her.
“Yes.”
****
“We’ve got a case of charmed shoes.”
Hermione looked up from her work and frowned. “Excuse me?”
“Charmed shoes. Arthur received word of it and passed it on to the Auror Department. It would have stayed within our department if the Muggle wearing the shoes hadn’t experienced serious physical harm. As it is, these Sonic Hedgehog shoes-”
“Oh, Merlin,” Hermione cut him off, closing her eyes and massaging her temples. “Let me guess- dehydration and physical exhaustion?”
“Amongst other problems,” Draco confirmed.
“Sounds like an easy enough case. Can’t someone else do it?”
“That’s what I thought. But Arthur said Potter told him to send his best and brightest, and that would be the two of us.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Harry knows I’m introducing you to my parents tonight. I think he wants you to be late and make a bad impression.”
Draco scoffed. “That’s a stupid idea. You’ll be with me, so you can always tell them we’ll both be late.”
“Yes, but Harry’s motto has always been ‘desperate times call for desperate measures’. And anyway, we won’t be late.”
“We won’t?”
“My parents can’t tolerate tardiness, and I hate it too.” Hermione stood up and walked around her desk, coming to a stop in front of Draco. “So we’ll both go and get this case sorted out, I estimate it will only take just over an hour, and then while you write up the case, I’ll pay my bespectacled friend a visit.”
“You get to do the fun part,” Draco pouted, slipping his arms around her. “But I won’t mind as long as you make me look good in front of you parents.”
“You don’t need my help for that,” Hermione replied, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. “Just tell them the story of how you saved me from your evil cousin Wyndhart. They’ve heard it from me, of course, but I’m sure they’ll ask you about it.”
“Right. Well, we’d better go. Time is running on.”
“If we’re late, I’ll blame it on Harry,” Hermione promised, slipping out of Draco’s hold to gather her things. “I’ll make him apologize to them on our behalf- in verse.”
Draco chuckled. “In that case, I don’t see any reason to be on time.”
“If we’re late because of you, mister,” Hermione emphasized her point by poking her finger into Draco’s chest, “I’ll make you showcase your talents to my parents with a rendition of Dr. Granger is our King.”
“Evil woman!” Draco complained. He waited until Hermione had everything she needed, and the second she was done, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. “Let’s go, then.” They Disapparated with a pop.
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