DUET 7: nightfalltwen and (pinch-hitter)
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Title: A Slight Gambit
Author: nightfalltwen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~6000
Summary: Hermione comes to Draco in Azkaban prison in need of his help. Draco has one stipulation. He wants his freedom.
Warnings: None.
Author's Note(s): Your prompt of Hermione visiting Draco in prison was intriguing to say the least, though the story took a turn that I wasn't expecting and became more of an adventure that I hope that you enjoy. The bunny sort of came from this screencap from The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Special thank you to my beta, who loves Draco and Hermione just as much as I do. <3
*~*~*~*
"Wand." The guard held out a wooden chest.
"Is this really necessary?" Hermione asked, fishing around in her long sleeve to pull the wand from the holster around her arm.
The guard didn't, or refused, to answer her. He just held out the open chest, waiting for her to drop her wand inside. Hermione hadn't expected the security precautions to be as strict at the medium security prison and she chided herself for expecting the rules to not apply to her because of who she was. Of course they would apply to her. They applied to everyone. Ever since the incident with Barty Crouch Jr and his mother at Azkaban, things had been overhauled and that overhaul trickled down from Azkaban through the entire prison system of wizarding Britain.
"Name," the gruff man said, thrusting a clipboard at her.
"I already signed in..."
"Inmate name," the man clarified with a exasperated sigh. "Need to know who you're visiting."
"Oh." Hermione flushed and plucked the self-inking quill from its place under the clip. She looked at the page and all of its legal jargon, her mouth set in a firm line before she carefully scrawled a name on the paper.
Draco Malfoy.
The guard snorted then led her to a holding room.
*****
"No." Draco stood, pushing back the metal chair with a loud scrape. "No, I'm not doing this. Guard!"
"Malfoy, calm down." Hermione sat across from him, her hands neatly folded over the file she'd brought with her. "You signed up to have visitors..."
He glared at her and pushed hair that had gotten too long and unmanageable out of his face. "I did not sign up to have every bloody Gryffindor march through for a look-see. I'm not an attraction."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not here just for a look-see or 'every bloody Gryffindor' as it were. It's just me," she replied, pushing the folder across to him.
A guard came to the door and peered in at the two of them with a frown. Hermione waited. Draco had one of two choices. He could go back to spend the rest of his day in the tiny cell that was his present home or he could sit with her for a couple of hours in a relatively relaxed setting. Draco appeared to be weighing both these options until he finally scowled at her and dropped back into the chair once more. He reached out and picked up the edge of the folder, flipping it open.
"I'm not responsible for this, Granger," he said, closing the file back up and pushing it to her. "It's difficult to organise an illegal trade syndicate from inside a prison. And if you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly in communication with any of my friends or family."
Hermione did know about that. Draco Malfoy, while he was considered lower risk than perhaps the Lestrange brothers, had been imprisoned under the new regulations of the penal system. Everything had been changed after Barty Crouch and his mother. Visitors were required to hand over everything for inspection and sit in a holding area for an hour and a half to make sure no polyjuice was being used. Parents were allowed to write letters or speak through the Floo system, but not permitted to physically visit Hermione had gone through the same screening when she'd arrived. They'd allowed her case folder because of her standing with the ministry and only after she'd passed the polyjuice test.
"But does it look familiar to you?" she asked and flipped through the file. "You were involved with all of that world before coming here. Maybe some of this rings a bell? It could point us in a proper direction."
In that moment she knew that she'd tipped her hand. He had to know that she was running out of options for information and judging from the smirk that was turning up the corners of his unshaven face, Hermione could tell he was planning something. It had been a long shot. Harry had advised against it. But she was a new Auror, a career no one thought she would venture into and now she wanted to prove that her acceptance into the DoMLE hadn't been a mistake.
"Nevermind then," she said and got to her feet, a heavy sigh escaping before she could stop herself. She reached for the folder only to yelp when Draco's hand darted out to grab her wrist. He gave her a piercing look.
"If you want my help, Granger," he said with a steady tone, grey eyes rising to peer at her intensely. "I want a few things from you."
Hermione's heart thumped painfully and her eyes widened at his words. Of all the things that she thought Draco Malfoy to be, she'd never considered that he'd ask for something untoward in exchange for information. She liked to think he wasn't that sort of man. Or she had hoped.
"Oh for god's sake, Granger, it isn't that," he rolled his eyes.
Hermione looked down at the rough hand circling her wrist and then back at his face. If she'd had her wand, he would have been on the other side of the room. Technically she could defend herself without it. Hand-to-hand combat was part of the training and most people didn't expect her to know how to throw a man across the room without magic.
Before she could ask him to clarify, Draco continued to speak.
"I want out, Granger. I want you to secure my release."
Hermione let out a dry laugh. "I don't have that much pull."
"The great Hermione Granger? Saint Potter's best friend? I doubt you realise just how much influence you actually do have." Draco drummed his fingers on the folder. "I don't know who is doing this, but I know how to find out. However, I'm not going to help you without something in exchange. My price is freedom. And a haircut."
Hermione's eyes darted up to his hair. It certainly had changed over the last couple of years. It was longer, brushing his shoulders. If he'd had a ribbon or something he could have tied it back. He would have looked just like his father. But with being stuck day-in and day-out in the dank pit that was Azkaban's medium security, it had also grown lank and grimy. He was no longer the polished pureblood that she remembered.
"I can't promise either of those," she said after a pause, her gaze shifting back to meet his.
"Those are my terms." Draco sat back in the chair, stretching out his legs. She noticed, in surprise, that he didn't actually have any socks on and for some reason that struck her as rather cruel considering how cold the jail got in the winter time.
"Fine," she said after a long moment of silence. "I'll see what I can do. Your freedom in exchange for help on this case."
Draco smirked and flipped open the folder. "And a haircut."
*****
There really weren't a lot of things worse than having Harry Potter disappointed in you, Hermione realised as she focused on a crack in the tile floor. Every so often a shadow would pass by as her friend paced a circle around her. It had been a few days before she brought up her idea with him. Avoiding it at first had been because the reaction she was experiencing was exactly what she had expected. A lot of lecturing, a lot of hands being thrown into the air and a lot of exasperated noises.
"It's mad, Hermione. We can't just ask the ministry to grant Draco Malfoy a pardon." Harry dropped into his chair.
"I'm not suggesting a pardon to get him out," she said.
"And what's to stop him from taking off once we have him out of jail?" Harry asked, picking up the request letter she'd drafted for him to sign. He'd already read it twice and Hermione wondered if perhaps he was hoping it would say something different this time.
"I've already thought of that, Harry. He's not going to have a wand. And you're going to come with us."
The letter fluttered to the floor and Harry stared at her. "I'm what?"
"Think about it," she said quickly. "I'm only just out of training and while I've done a lot of field work as a teenager, chasing Horcruxes and the like, I'm not exactly ready for solo missions as an Auror. Ron obviously isn't an option and I might have a better time breaking this smuggling ring if I have you in on it with me." She stood up and leaned on his desk. "I've been working this case for months, Harry. I'm so close. Please."
She didn't want to pull the seventh year card. Maybe with that one, emphasized 'please' she already had. Harry knew she'd devoted so much of her life to him, helping him all through school and sticking by his side during their darkest moments. She didn't often ask for favours. Or at least she tried not to directly ask. But he knew as well as she did that simply by saying please, there was so much behind that little word.
So much that she knew he couldn't really say no.
*****
"You can wait for the inmate in reception." The guard, this time one with a more friendly face than the one she had dealt with the last time, pointed towards a closed door.
It had taken a lot of convincing, a fortnight of paperwork, for the Ministry to agree. But with more and more illegal magical creatures ending up in Diagon, the pressure from the public and from St Mungo's (the latter dealing with injuries from said creatures), the Ministry had finally allowed Hermione her request. Draco was a temporarily free man, under hers and Harry's watchful eyes. So long as he cooperated with the investigation.
And depending on the outcome, he might see his freedom extended.
Hermione flipped through a four-year-old Witch Weekly and glanced at the clock a couple of times. Every time the door opened she straightened, only to be let down by the person coming through. Twice she got up and asked what was taking so long, but was shooed back to the waiting area. Finally she gave up and pulled open her satchel to take out the case file and started going through the notes.
She was halfway through a report from the previous week about manticore eggs being found in Bristol when a shadow fell across her paper.
"If the reception area is the most freedom I'm going to get, then I'd rather rescind my offer of help."
Hermione jumped at the sudden voice and looked up, mouth dropping open. The pencil she'd clasped between her lips fell into her lap. Not only had they given Draco a haircut, but he'd been allowed a shave as well. She was a little torn at her own reaction. On the one hand, he looked so much more like how she remembered him from school and not all of those memories were particularly good, but on the other hand, Azkaban had given him a leaner, more angular look. And part of her couldn't help but appreciate the result.
She was only human after all.
With a flush of embarrassment, Hermione shook her head and shoved the papers, and various items she'd spread out, back into her satchel. She got to her feet and held out her hand to him, palm upwards.
"We can go just as soon as I've cast the spell," she said.
Draco gave her a questioning look. "What spell?"
Hermione cringed a little and then held up her wand. "The Ministry said I need to place a tracing mark on you while you're in my custody."
He took a step back, his face hardening. "No."
"Malfoy, I have to. They won't allow you..."
"No!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "I wasn't given a choice the last time I was marked. I'm not being marked against my will again!"
At his words, an icy chill went down Hermione's back and she lowered her wand, hand shaking a little. It hadn't actually occurred to her until just now that there were terrible similarities between what the Ministry was asking her to do and what Voldemort had done to Draco Malfoy. Hermione's eyes darted over to where a guard stood, waiting for them to finish up before leaving. She knew he wouldn't be allowed to exit the prison if she didn't keep to her arrangement with the Ministry.
"They're watching..." she said under her breath, holding out her hand and pleading with her eyes. Her thoughts spun around dizzyingly and for a moment she thought he would refuse. When he held out his arm, she grasped his wrist, pressing her wand lightly to the skin just above her thumb. "Just trust me."
The spell was voiceless and the tip of her wand glowed briefly. Hermione looked first to the guard, who seemed satisfied, and then back to Draco. The severity of his expression should have made her worried, but she kept herself composed. It would do neither of them any good if they argued in the reception room. Draco would be taken back to his cell and she would be back to square one with her investigation.
"Follow me," she said, slinging the strap of her satchel across her shoulders.
"Yes, ma'am," he said dryly, rubbing his forearm.
Hermione paused for a moment, then turned on her heel. She led him out past the guard and signed the logbook at the door. Azkaban had expanded beyond the sole, isolated island where the murderous Death Eaters were jailed. The medium security facility was buried deep underground in an unused slate cavern in Wales, utilizing the slate as an addition to the security spells.
Once they were beyond the wards, Hermione held out her hand once again. When he hesitated again, she pinched her lips together and leaned forward, curling her fingers around his wrist.
In an instant they were gone.
*****
"Why does Potter get his own room and I have to share with you?" Draco asked as Hermione plunked a rucksack down on one of the twin beds.
Hermione flipped open the bag and dug around in its depths for her toothbrush. After a whole day of chasing down Draco's old contacts from before his capture in Penrith, she was knackered and just wanted to sleep. She shot a glance over to him and then pulled up her sleeve, unsnapping the spring-loaded wand holster from her arm, withdrawing her wand from the apparatus. Without looking, she flicked a spell at the door and a soft light wrapped around the locking mechanism.
"I'm better at wards." She rubbed the spot where the holster had been. "And you're my responsibility, not Harry's."
Draco was silent for a moment and when Hermione looked at him again, he seemed deep in thought, his fingertips lightly brushing over the spot she had touched with her wand back at the jail. An uneasy feeling swept over her, but she sucked in a breath and told herself that when this was all over he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. The springs of the bed next to hers creaked as Draco sat down on the edge of it.
"Potter's not supposed to be here, is he?" Draco asked, peering at her with that intense expression that he'd had before when he was making his demands. When she didn't answer him right away, she heard the satisfaction in his expression before he even spoke. "I'm right. You're breaking the rules. You three were always breaking the rules and getting away with it. I'm not surprised."
"It's not..." Hermione started, reaching inside her bag again. "You and I have to pass as a couple and Harry's here because I requested that he be on this case..."
"Oh it's that is it?" Draco leaned down, tugged off his shoes and then stretched out on the bed. The twin was shorter than normal and his heels hung off the end. "Always wondered about you and Potter. But weren't you and Weasley..."
Hermione reached over and grabbed the pillow off her bed, throwing it at him. "Shut it," she snapped angrily. "You know absolutely nothing and I would appreciate you keeping your comments to yourself."
Draco tossed the weaponized pillow to the floor and smirked. "Of course I know nothing. I've been buried in a slate mine for the better part of two years and Azkaban inmates aren't high on The Daily Prophet's subscription list. Perhaps you ought to enlighten me about the gossip. I've been out of the loop for some time."
"He's here to take you down!" Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth. She turned and sat down heavily on her own bed. "Harry's the back up plan," she said quietly when he wouldn't stop looking at her.
"Explain," he said, his tone having turned cold.
She could have said no. She could have said that it wasn't something he needed to know. She could have told him to shut it, petrified him for the night and modified his memories. But something inside of her couldn't bring herself to do such a thing. It was her hesitation, her mentor had said, that made the difference between being a good Auror and being a great one.
Hermione took a breath. "I'm taking a risk on you," she said after a long moment. "The Ministry doesn't trust you and they only said yes once Harry had promised to... well, if you do anything wrong, he's been authorised, ordered really, to clean up the mess."
She didn't think that the hard line of Draco's jaw could get any harder, but it did. He stood up and walked to the door. Hermione opened her mouth to ask him to stop, but before she could stay anything, he turned on his heel and stalked to the small en suite toilet, shutting the door behind him.
It was a good hour and a bit before the door opened again and he returned to the room. Draco said nothing, just stared at her. While he'd been locked away, Hermione had pulled an old, Muggle-style chessboard out of her bag and started to play against herself. Ron was, of course, the chess master of their little triad, but his skill was wizard's chess. Hermione liked the simplicity and lack of movement in the unmagical version.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she felt Draco watching her. Without acknowledging it directly, Hermione scooped up the pieces and laid them out on either side of the board. When she was done, she turned the white side towards him and waited.
"I read the jail's visitor sign-in log," she said after they were halfway through a second game, Draco having won the first. He'd demanded a second after accusing her of letting him win out of guilt. "No one visited you. Not once in two years."
Draco's hand stilled over a rook. "My parents had too many hoops to jump through in order to return to England from France. And then the new restrictions would have kept them on fire calls only."
"There wasn't anyone else?"
"Theodore tried once. I refused to see him." He moved a pawn, his finger staying on the piece for a long time before he allowed the move to stand as it was. "He was my best friend, you know. Out of everyone, he was the one I could most tolerate."
Hermione thought for a moment and then set her bishop on D-7. "And no one visited you after you signed up on that list asking for company?"
He shook his head and stared at the board. "No one wants to associate with a marked Slytherin who helped the murderer of Albus Dumbledore."
She knew all of this, of course. His name had sat on that list for eight months. No one had signed up to see him until she'd come along, which had broken her heart in a way. And it wasn't as if his crimes had been that terrible. He'd not murdered anyone directly. After the war, his only error was trying to sell off objects that he'd taken from Malfoy Manor after it had been seized. The ministry had considered this theft of what was now their property and dealt him a harsh punishment, making him more of an example to others than actually seeking justice.
She didn't like it one bit.
He made a move on the board and Hermione leaned forward a little, clicking her tongue disappointedly. "I wouldn't have done that. Now you only have two moves left before I beat you."
For the first time that evening, she saw him smile. Genuinely smile.
*****
In retrospect they shouldn't have been following the pair of thugs so closely, Hermione thought as she and Draco ducked into an alley. It was one of the first rules of observation, not letting oneself be seen, but she'd not counted on the crowds thinning out as they had and when they rounded the corner, it was just her, Draco and the two they'd been following. Apparating was out of the question. That would have instantly blown their cover and alerted the smugglers to the Auror's involvement.
Harry appearing would have done the same, so Hermione didn't take out her wand to call for help.
"Whoops, wrong turn, luv..." Draco said rather suddenly from her side. The next thing she knew, his arm was sliding across her shoulders, pulling her close. Hermione looked up at him and watched him tip his tweed flat cap at the two other men, angling his face downward before they could get a good look at him. "Evening, mates."
Before Hermione could question the 'luv', he'd steered her out of the Alley and then leaned heavily on her shoulders as if he'd had a bit too much to drink, making his steps a bit wobbly, but purposefully quick. She could hear heavy footsteps on the pavement behind them and as Draco stumbled along, she forced herself to laugh.
"Duck into that alcove when we get past the streetlight and I can stun them," she said through her teeth, swatting at him playfully.
"I've a better idea," he said and before she knew it, he'd swung her around and backed her up against a wall. Hermione's heart thumped out of control as Draco dipped his head and rested his chin against the crook of her neck. He spoke low and his breath was warm against her skin. "Right now they think we're a couple of drunk Muggles who are completely enamoured with each other..."
Hermione swallowed. "Don't you dare do what I think you're going to do."
"You stun them and what happens? They're underlings and you have to modify their memories and then we're back to searching again." He touched her chin and turned her face towards his. "This is a smarter plan."
He waited and it only took her a moment before she realised he was waiting for her to say yes. Her head dipped in an almost imperceptible nod. He was right. Smarter plan. Perspective.
On the one hand she was prepared for his lips crushing against hers. She knew it was coming. Logically she knew what it would feel like to have a mouth on hers. On the other hand, she was wholly and entirely unprepared for her own reaction to it. She'd been kissed before. She'd done the kissing as well. Failed relationships lay scattered around her feet and she realised dimly that the reason why was that no one she had been with had ever kissed her like this.
Her hand clung to the back of his neck, her body arching a bit towards his and if this was all an act for the benefit of the two men they'd been following, Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted the act to stop.
She vaguely heard them speak. Told you it was nothing. Just a bloke and his bird. Yer always so suspicious. Ever since the new guy took over the business. And she might have heard the footsteps depart, but her attention was fully on the warmth and intensity of Draco's kiss.
She was lost in it.
And in so, so, so much trouble.
There was a loud crack from behind them and Draco was pulled almost violently off her, spun around and pressed up against the wall. Hermione sucked in a breath, staring wide-eyed at Harry who had his wand raised and pointed at Draco. She gave her head a shake and pushed herself away from the wall, straightening her jacket and trying to will the jelly in her knees to solidify.
She put a hand up. "Harry, stop."
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded of her. When she didn't answer straight away he turned on Draco. "And you. I should put a stop to this whole investigation and throw you back into that cell for assaulting a ministry officer."
"Calm down, Potter, before you birth a litter of kittens in front of the both of us," Draco said, inspecting his fingernails. "One might think you were Weasley using polyjuice."
Harry took a step closer and pressed the tip of his wand at Draco's throat before turning his attention on Hermione. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Still a bit dazed and out of sorts, Hermione stooped to pick up the handbag that had slipped from her fingers. "I'm fine," she said after another deep breath. "Harry, put your wand down. We had it handled. It was just to throw them off..."
She shot a warning look at Draco who couldn't seem to wipe the satisfied look off his face. Harry lowered his wand and released the spell that had trapped Draco's shoulders against the bricks. Hermione knew that the night had turned in the wrong direction. But not everything had been lost. They'd let the two men go, but one bit of information floated back up through the muddled swirl that her thoughts had become.
There was a new ringleader.
*****
The plan didn't take very long to formulate. No one liked it. Not even Draco. But it was the only way that Hermione could think of at such short notice. They'd already spent a week observing the new transactions, but not one of them involved the 'new boss' and she was running out of time. The ministry already thought that she'd spent too much time. They wanted her to make an arrest. She wanted to make an arrest and let Harry get back to his regular work.
Packing her things back into her rucksack, Hermione held out a jacket to Draco.
"There's Peruvian darkness powder in the pockets. If you need a way out..."
"I'm surprised that you trust me enough to not use it now."
Harry snapped his copy of the Prophet closed. He'd refused the prior arrangement of split rooms ever since that night in the Alley. Of course that had been both a blessing and a curse. Hermione felt stifled by the pair of them sniping at each other for a week. She also was frustrated at not being able to discuss the kiss with Draco in private.
And she was confused as to why she continued to dwell on it. He certainly didn't seem bothered or affected by it.
"Hermione has a tracking charm on you, Malfoy. It wouldn't do any good," Harry said and rose from the sofa on which he'd spent the night. Wrapping himself in his old invisibility cloak, he let himself out of the room, his voice the only way to locate where he was standing. "I won't be far from your apparition point."
Hermione looked at Draco, shifting slightly before she held out the flat cap that Draco had sported for most of the investigation. He shook his head and straightened the lines of the jacket. Before she could ask, he reached for a comb and slid it through his hair. The end result was severe and strongly emphasized his sharp features. He tucked the comb into his pocket and seemed to artfully arrange his face into a cold expression.
"Here," she said, holding out a satchel. Inside were a variety of curse items that had been provided by Bill Weasley's Egyptian friends. All of them were behind a variety of shielding charms so they wouldn't kill anyone the moment they saw the light of day. But each one of them was strictly forbidden by the Ministry.
If they had known that Hermione had them, she probably would have been reprimanded herself.
"If you have to leave them behind, we can retrieve them at a later date. Just get in, get the name..."
"And get out. I know. If you haven't forgotten, I have actually been a part of these types of transactions before."
Draco inspected the long strap of the satchel and then tucked it inside the bag, using the short handles to carry it more like a briefcase instead of a messenger bag. He extended his hand, without her having to ask. Hermione touched his fingertips and the world bent around them until they were standing next to a darkened warehouse. Hermione flicked her wand and enacted the disillusionment charm around herself. She wasn't about to follow Draco, but she needed to be sure she wouldn't be seen.
He gave her a nod and squared his shoulders, walking purposefully toward the one door, light leaking out from beneath it.
"I don't like this," Harry's voice behind her made Hermione jump. "I don't trust him."
"You haven't since you were eleven," Hermione pointed out, edging along the building so she could nudge one of George's extendable ears against the door.
Draco kept to his word and followed script. He spoke of the items he'd acquired and their danger. He refused to make any transaction without knowing with whom he was dealing. Hermione smiled and pulled out a biro, writing a name on her hand. She held out her palm in Harry's direction, then tugged the ear away, moving back into the darkness. The door opened and she could hear Draco make arrangements for the next night. He bid the group goodbye and walked back towards where she was standing.
He was, of course, followed, but before they rounded the same corner he had, Draco's hand met hers and they were gone, apparating back to the hotel.
*****
Everything that followed happened very quickly. A sting was arranged, the ringleader was arrested and Hermione was indeed reprimanded for not declaring the dangerous goods she with which she had been bartering. The only thing that kept her from being sacked directly was that she'd broken through one of the more lucrative smuggling operations in England. Though perhaps not the only thing. As Draco had said, she was Hermione Granger. If the DoMLE had sacked her, the papers would have gone mad.
"You could do this," Hermione said, draping her uniform cloak over the back of her sofa. Her flat was small, but after close to a month of hotel visits, it was good to be home. "You could work for the department."'
Draco shifted, looking agitated, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Ever since they had finished with the case, he'd taken on a different stance. His comments were clipped and he looked as if he would bolt at any moment. Hermione didn't blame him. He had to have come to the realization that once the criminals were apprehended, he would no longer be of use to the Ministry.
"Kept as a pet and only taken out of my cell when I'm needed to get you lot out of a mess?" he said with a scowl. "No, thank you. I'd rather just be getting back if you don't mind. We are done here, are we not?"
He held out his arm, pushing his sleeve up and waited.
Hermione walked over to a large roll-top desk up against one wall. Pushing up the cover, she drew out a signed parchment and a long box. Clearing her throat she stepped over to him, touching his wrist with one hand and lowering it to his side. "Draco Malfoy. The Ministry thanks you for your assistance. This is a pardon, signed by the Minister for Magic and witnessed by both Harry and myself." She held out the parchment and then the box. "This is your wand."
"My wand." Draco repeated and looked at her, confused.
"They didn't really snap it after your trial. So I asked that it be returned to you." When he didn't stop staring at her, she gave him a half smile. "You'd really be surprised how much influence Saint Potter's best friend actually has."
"Can I remove the tracing charm on my own, then?" he asked.
Hermione looked down at his bare forearm and then up to his face. "There isn't one."
"I'm sorry?"
"You were completely right. I had no business marking you against your will. It was just a voiceless Lumos charm. It had to look like I did something or you wouldn't have been released into my custody."
For a moment he looked torn between wanting to lecture her for the ruse or pick her up into his arms and spin her about. Hermione was surprised when he did neither, but tucked the wand under his arm. He folded the parchment and pushed it into his pocket. They stood awkwardly for a long moment, only to have the spell broken by the loud chime of Hermione's grandfather clock. Draco shook his head and moved toward the door.
"Give it some thought, Draco," Hermione said as he stepped across her threshold. "You're smart and the DoMLE could use smart Aurors."
It was better this way, she decided once he'd left in an almost stunned silence. They'd never spoken of the kiss or the long nights, talking and playing chess. Too often her thoughts had dwelled on these things, but thought it best if she not bring any of it up. He had his own opinions of her and she couldn't expect that they would change. She just didn't have a right to those feelings that had stirred deep in her stomach. Not after just a few weeks in close company. Rolling the cover of her desk closed, Hermione flicked her wand toward the kitchen, setting the kettle to boil. She then grabbed her coat and went to the door so she could fetch her Muggle post from the neighbour.
Jumping back with a yelp when she opened the door, Hermione looked up at Draco who was standing in her doorway.
"There was something I forgot to ask you," he said by way of a greeting. "I didn't want to leave until I'd gotten an answer."
The question wasn't verbal, however. Instead he stepped across her threshold and cupped either side of her face in his hand, lowering his mouth to hers. Hermione froze, the coat slipping from her fingers and two or three heartbeats later, her arms were around his neck. She kissed him back fiercely, trying to answer whatever his question had been, asking a few of her own while she was at it.
Draco pulled back slightly and spoke with a wry tone. "Well... that's one way of putting it."
"Is there another way?" she asked, her lips only a scant distance from his. She could feel his smile without having to look at it and her nose bumped his. "Maybe you should ask again."
"Should I?"
"Yes. And you should listen to me. I've been told I have a surprising amount of influence."
Hermione didn't let him reply, her mouth pressing against his and preventing anything else from being said.
THE END
Title: A Slight Gambit
Author: nightfalltwen
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~6000
Summary: Hermione comes to Draco in Azkaban prison in need of his help. Draco has one stipulation. He wants his freedom.
Warnings: None.
Author's Note(s): Your prompt of Hermione visiting Draco in prison was intriguing to say the least, though the story took a turn that I wasn't expecting and became more of an adventure that I hope that you enjoy. The bunny sort of came from this screencap from The Man From U.N.C.L.E. Special thank you to my beta, who loves Draco and Hermione just as much as I do. <3
*~*~*~*
"Wand." The guard held out a wooden chest.
"Is this really necessary?" Hermione asked, fishing around in her long sleeve to pull the wand from the holster around her arm.
The guard didn't, or refused, to answer her. He just held out the open chest, waiting for her to drop her wand inside. Hermione hadn't expected the security precautions to be as strict at the medium security prison and she chided herself for expecting the rules to not apply to her because of who she was. Of course they would apply to her. They applied to everyone. Ever since the incident with Barty Crouch Jr and his mother at Azkaban, things had been overhauled and that overhaul trickled down from Azkaban through the entire prison system of wizarding Britain.
"Name," the gruff man said, thrusting a clipboard at her.
"I already signed in..."
"Inmate name," the man clarified with a exasperated sigh. "Need to know who you're visiting."
"Oh." Hermione flushed and plucked the self-inking quill from its place under the clip. She looked at the page and all of its legal jargon, her mouth set in a firm line before she carefully scrawled a name on the paper.
Draco Malfoy.
The guard snorted then led her to a holding room.
*****
"No." Draco stood, pushing back the metal chair with a loud scrape. "No, I'm not doing this. Guard!"
"Malfoy, calm down." Hermione sat across from him, her hands neatly folded over the file she'd brought with her. "You signed up to have visitors..."
He glared at her and pushed hair that had gotten too long and unmanageable out of his face. "I did not sign up to have every bloody Gryffindor march through for a look-see. I'm not an attraction."
"Then it's a good thing I'm not here just for a look-see or 'every bloody Gryffindor' as it were. It's just me," she replied, pushing the folder across to him.
A guard came to the door and peered in at the two of them with a frown. Hermione waited. Draco had one of two choices. He could go back to spend the rest of his day in the tiny cell that was his present home or he could sit with her for a couple of hours in a relatively relaxed setting. Draco appeared to be weighing both these options until he finally scowled at her and dropped back into the chair once more. He reached out and picked up the edge of the folder, flipping it open.
"I'm not responsible for this, Granger," he said, closing the file back up and pushing it to her. "It's difficult to organise an illegal trade syndicate from inside a prison. And if you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly in communication with any of my friends or family."
Hermione did know about that. Draco Malfoy, while he was considered lower risk than perhaps the Lestrange brothers, had been imprisoned under the new regulations of the penal system. Everything had been changed after Barty Crouch and his mother. Visitors were required to hand over everything for inspection and sit in a holding area for an hour and a half to make sure no polyjuice was being used. Parents were allowed to write letters or speak through the Floo system, but not permitted to physically visit Hermione had gone through the same screening when she'd arrived. They'd allowed her case folder because of her standing with the ministry and only after she'd passed the polyjuice test.
"But does it look familiar to you?" she asked and flipped through the file. "You were involved with all of that world before coming here. Maybe some of this rings a bell? It could point us in a proper direction."
In that moment she knew that she'd tipped her hand. He had to know that she was running out of options for information and judging from the smirk that was turning up the corners of his unshaven face, Hermione could tell he was planning something. It had been a long shot. Harry had advised against it. But she was a new Auror, a career no one thought she would venture into and now she wanted to prove that her acceptance into the DoMLE hadn't been a mistake.
"Nevermind then," she said and got to her feet, a heavy sigh escaping before she could stop herself. She reached for the folder only to yelp when Draco's hand darted out to grab her wrist. He gave her a piercing look.
"If you want my help, Granger," he said with a steady tone, grey eyes rising to peer at her intensely. "I want a few things from you."
Hermione's heart thumped painfully and her eyes widened at his words. Of all the things that she thought Draco Malfoy to be, she'd never considered that he'd ask for something untoward in exchange for information. She liked to think he wasn't that sort of man. Or she had hoped.
"Oh for god's sake, Granger, it isn't that," he rolled his eyes.
Hermione looked down at the rough hand circling her wrist and then back at his face. If she'd had her wand, he would have been on the other side of the room. Technically she could defend herself without it. Hand-to-hand combat was part of the training and most people didn't expect her to know how to throw a man across the room without magic.
Before she could ask him to clarify, Draco continued to speak.
"I want out, Granger. I want you to secure my release."
Hermione let out a dry laugh. "I don't have that much pull."
"The great Hermione Granger? Saint Potter's best friend? I doubt you realise just how much influence you actually do have." Draco drummed his fingers on the folder. "I don't know who is doing this, but I know how to find out. However, I'm not going to help you without something in exchange. My price is freedom. And a haircut."
Hermione's eyes darted up to his hair. It certainly had changed over the last couple of years. It was longer, brushing his shoulders. If he'd had a ribbon or something he could have tied it back. He would have looked just like his father. But with being stuck day-in and day-out in the dank pit that was Azkaban's medium security, it had also grown lank and grimy. He was no longer the polished pureblood that she remembered.
"I can't promise either of those," she said after a pause, her gaze shifting back to meet his.
"Those are my terms." Draco sat back in the chair, stretching out his legs. She noticed, in surprise, that he didn't actually have any socks on and for some reason that struck her as rather cruel considering how cold the jail got in the winter time.
"Fine," she said after a long moment of silence. "I'll see what I can do. Your freedom in exchange for help on this case."
Draco smirked and flipped open the folder. "And a haircut."
*****
There really weren't a lot of things worse than having Harry Potter disappointed in you, Hermione realised as she focused on a crack in the tile floor. Every so often a shadow would pass by as her friend paced a circle around her. It had been a few days before she brought up her idea with him. Avoiding it at first had been because the reaction she was experiencing was exactly what she had expected. A lot of lecturing, a lot of hands being thrown into the air and a lot of exasperated noises.
"It's mad, Hermione. We can't just ask the ministry to grant Draco Malfoy a pardon." Harry dropped into his chair.
"I'm not suggesting a pardon to get him out," she said.
"And what's to stop him from taking off once we have him out of jail?" Harry asked, picking up the request letter she'd drafted for him to sign. He'd already read it twice and Hermione wondered if perhaps he was hoping it would say something different this time.
"I've already thought of that, Harry. He's not going to have a wand. And you're going to come with us."
The letter fluttered to the floor and Harry stared at her. "I'm what?"
"Think about it," she said quickly. "I'm only just out of training and while I've done a lot of field work as a teenager, chasing Horcruxes and the like, I'm not exactly ready for solo missions as an Auror. Ron obviously isn't an option and I might have a better time breaking this smuggling ring if I have you in on it with me." She stood up and leaned on his desk. "I've been working this case for months, Harry. I'm so close. Please."
She didn't want to pull the seventh year card. Maybe with that one, emphasized 'please' she already had. Harry knew she'd devoted so much of her life to him, helping him all through school and sticking by his side during their darkest moments. She didn't often ask for favours. Or at least she tried not to directly ask. But he knew as well as she did that simply by saying please, there was so much behind that little word.
So much that she knew he couldn't really say no.
*****
"You can wait for the inmate in reception." The guard, this time one with a more friendly face than the one she had dealt with the last time, pointed towards a closed door.
It had taken a lot of convincing, a fortnight of paperwork, for the Ministry to agree. But with more and more illegal magical creatures ending up in Diagon, the pressure from the public and from St Mungo's (the latter dealing with injuries from said creatures), the Ministry had finally allowed Hermione her request. Draco was a temporarily free man, under hers and Harry's watchful eyes. So long as he cooperated with the investigation.
And depending on the outcome, he might see his freedom extended.
Hermione flipped through a four-year-old Witch Weekly and glanced at the clock a couple of times. Every time the door opened she straightened, only to be let down by the person coming through. Twice she got up and asked what was taking so long, but was shooed back to the waiting area. Finally she gave up and pulled open her satchel to take out the case file and started going through the notes.
She was halfway through a report from the previous week about manticore eggs being found in Bristol when a shadow fell across her paper.
"If the reception area is the most freedom I'm going to get, then I'd rather rescind my offer of help."
Hermione jumped at the sudden voice and looked up, mouth dropping open. The pencil she'd clasped between her lips fell into her lap. Not only had they given Draco a haircut, but he'd been allowed a shave as well. She was a little torn at her own reaction. On the one hand, he looked so much more like how she remembered him from school and not all of those memories were particularly good, but on the other hand, Azkaban had given him a leaner, more angular look. And part of her couldn't help but appreciate the result.
She was only human after all.
With a flush of embarrassment, Hermione shook her head and shoved the papers, and various items she'd spread out, back into her satchel. She got to her feet and held out her hand to him, palm upwards.
"We can go just as soon as I've cast the spell," she said.
Draco gave her a questioning look. "What spell?"
Hermione cringed a little and then held up her wand. "The Ministry said I need to place a tracing mark on you while you're in my custody."
He took a step back, his face hardening. "No."
"Malfoy, I have to. They won't allow you..."
"No!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "I wasn't given a choice the last time I was marked. I'm not being marked against my will again!"
At his words, an icy chill went down Hermione's back and she lowered her wand, hand shaking a little. It hadn't actually occurred to her until just now that there were terrible similarities between what the Ministry was asking her to do and what Voldemort had done to Draco Malfoy. Hermione's eyes darted over to where a guard stood, waiting for them to finish up before leaving. She knew he wouldn't be allowed to exit the prison if she didn't keep to her arrangement with the Ministry.
"They're watching..." she said under her breath, holding out her hand and pleading with her eyes. Her thoughts spun around dizzyingly and for a moment she thought he would refuse. When he held out his arm, she grasped his wrist, pressing her wand lightly to the skin just above her thumb. "Just trust me."
The spell was voiceless and the tip of her wand glowed briefly. Hermione looked first to the guard, who seemed satisfied, and then back to Draco. The severity of his expression should have made her worried, but she kept herself composed. It would do neither of them any good if they argued in the reception room. Draco would be taken back to his cell and she would be back to square one with her investigation.
"Follow me," she said, slinging the strap of her satchel across her shoulders.
"Yes, ma'am," he said dryly, rubbing his forearm.
Hermione paused for a moment, then turned on her heel. She led him out past the guard and signed the logbook at the door. Azkaban had expanded beyond the sole, isolated island where the murderous Death Eaters were jailed. The medium security facility was buried deep underground in an unused slate cavern in Wales, utilizing the slate as an addition to the security spells.
Once they were beyond the wards, Hermione held out her hand once again. When he hesitated again, she pinched her lips together and leaned forward, curling her fingers around his wrist.
In an instant they were gone.
*****
"Why does Potter get his own room and I have to share with you?" Draco asked as Hermione plunked a rucksack down on one of the twin beds.
Hermione flipped open the bag and dug around in its depths for her toothbrush. After a whole day of chasing down Draco's old contacts from before his capture in Penrith, she was knackered and just wanted to sleep. She shot a glance over to him and then pulled up her sleeve, unsnapping the spring-loaded wand holster from her arm, withdrawing her wand from the apparatus. Without looking, she flicked a spell at the door and a soft light wrapped around the locking mechanism.
"I'm better at wards." She rubbed the spot where the holster had been. "And you're my responsibility, not Harry's."
Draco was silent for a moment and when Hermione looked at him again, he seemed deep in thought, his fingertips lightly brushing over the spot she had touched with her wand back at the jail. An uneasy feeling swept over her, but she sucked in a breath and told herself that when this was all over he wouldn't have to worry about it anymore. The springs of the bed next to hers creaked as Draco sat down on the edge of it.
"Potter's not supposed to be here, is he?" Draco asked, peering at her with that intense expression that he'd had before when he was making his demands. When she didn't answer him right away, she heard the satisfaction in his expression before he even spoke. "I'm right. You're breaking the rules. You three were always breaking the rules and getting away with it. I'm not surprised."
"It's not..." Hermione started, reaching inside her bag again. "You and I have to pass as a couple and Harry's here because I requested that he be on this case..."
"Oh it's that is it?" Draco leaned down, tugged off his shoes and then stretched out on the bed. The twin was shorter than normal and his heels hung off the end. "Always wondered about you and Potter. But weren't you and Weasley..."
Hermione reached over and grabbed the pillow off her bed, throwing it at him. "Shut it," she snapped angrily. "You know absolutely nothing and I would appreciate you keeping your comments to yourself."
Draco tossed the weaponized pillow to the floor and smirked. "Of course I know nothing. I've been buried in a slate mine for the better part of two years and Azkaban inmates aren't high on The Daily Prophet's subscription list. Perhaps you ought to enlighten me about the gossip. I've been out of the loop for some time."
"He's here to take you down!" Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth. She turned and sat down heavily on her own bed. "Harry's the back up plan," she said quietly when he wouldn't stop looking at her.
"Explain," he said, his tone having turned cold.
She could have said no. She could have said that it wasn't something he needed to know. She could have told him to shut it, petrified him for the night and modified his memories. But something inside of her couldn't bring herself to do such a thing. It was her hesitation, her mentor had said, that made the difference between being a good Auror and being a great one.
Hermione took a breath. "I'm taking a risk on you," she said after a long moment. "The Ministry doesn't trust you and they only said yes once Harry had promised to... well, if you do anything wrong, he's been authorised, ordered really, to clean up the mess."
She didn't think that the hard line of Draco's jaw could get any harder, but it did. He stood up and walked to the door. Hermione opened her mouth to ask him to stop, but before she could stay anything, he turned on his heel and stalked to the small en suite toilet, shutting the door behind him.
It was a good hour and a bit before the door opened again and he returned to the room. Draco said nothing, just stared at her. While he'd been locked away, Hermione had pulled an old, Muggle-style chessboard out of her bag and started to play against herself. Ron was, of course, the chess master of their little triad, but his skill was wizard's chess. Hermione liked the simplicity and lack of movement in the unmagical version.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she felt Draco watching her. Without acknowledging it directly, Hermione scooped up the pieces and laid them out on either side of the board. When she was done, she turned the white side towards him and waited.
"I read the jail's visitor sign-in log," she said after they were halfway through a second game, Draco having won the first. He'd demanded a second after accusing her of letting him win out of guilt. "No one visited you. Not once in two years."
Draco's hand stilled over a rook. "My parents had too many hoops to jump through in order to return to England from France. And then the new restrictions would have kept them on fire calls only."
"There wasn't anyone else?"
"Theodore tried once. I refused to see him." He moved a pawn, his finger staying on the piece for a long time before he allowed the move to stand as it was. "He was my best friend, you know. Out of everyone, he was the one I could most tolerate."
Hermione thought for a moment and then set her bishop on D-7. "And no one visited you after you signed up on that list asking for company?"
He shook his head and stared at the board. "No one wants to associate with a marked Slytherin who helped the murderer of Albus Dumbledore."
She knew all of this, of course. His name had sat on that list for eight months. No one had signed up to see him until she'd come along, which had broken her heart in a way. And it wasn't as if his crimes had been that terrible. He'd not murdered anyone directly. After the war, his only error was trying to sell off objects that he'd taken from Malfoy Manor after it had been seized. The ministry had considered this theft of what was now their property and dealt him a harsh punishment, making him more of an example to others than actually seeking justice.
She didn't like it one bit.
He made a move on the board and Hermione leaned forward a little, clicking her tongue disappointedly. "I wouldn't have done that. Now you only have two moves left before I beat you."
For the first time that evening, she saw him smile. Genuinely smile.
*****
In retrospect they shouldn't have been following the pair of thugs so closely, Hermione thought as she and Draco ducked into an alley. It was one of the first rules of observation, not letting oneself be seen, but she'd not counted on the crowds thinning out as they had and when they rounded the corner, it was just her, Draco and the two they'd been following. Apparating was out of the question. That would have instantly blown their cover and alerted the smugglers to the Auror's involvement.
Harry appearing would have done the same, so Hermione didn't take out her wand to call for help.
"Whoops, wrong turn, luv..." Draco said rather suddenly from her side. The next thing she knew, his arm was sliding across her shoulders, pulling her close. Hermione looked up at him and watched him tip his tweed flat cap at the two other men, angling his face downward before they could get a good look at him. "Evening, mates."
Before Hermione could question the 'luv', he'd steered her out of the Alley and then leaned heavily on her shoulders as if he'd had a bit too much to drink, making his steps a bit wobbly, but purposefully quick. She could hear heavy footsteps on the pavement behind them and as Draco stumbled along, she forced herself to laugh.
"Duck into that alcove when we get past the streetlight and I can stun them," she said through her teeth, swatting at him playfully.
"I've a better idea," he said and before she knew it, he'd swung her around and backed her up against a wall. Hermione's heart thumped out of control as Draco dipped his head and rested his chin against the crook of her neck. He spoke low and his breath was warm against her skin. "Right now they think we're a couple of drunk Muggles who are completely enamoured with each other..."
Hermione swallowed. "Don't you dare do what I think you're going to do."
"You stun them and what happens? They're underlings and you have to modify their memories and then we're back to searching again." He touched her chin and turned her face towards his. "This is a smarter plan."
He waited and it only took her a moment before she realised he was waiting for her to say yes. Her head dipped in an almost imperceptible nod. He was right. Smarter plan. Perspective.
On the one hand she was prepared for his lips crushing against hers. She knew it was coming. Logically she knew what it would feel like to have a mouth on hers. On the other hand, she was wholly and entirely unprepared for her own reaction to it. She'd been kissed before. She'd done the kissing as well. Failed relationships lay scattered around her feet and she realised dimly that the reason why was that no one she had been with had ever kissed her like this.
Her hand clung to the back of his neck, her body arching a bit towards his and if this was all an act for the benefit of the two men they'd been following, Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted the act to stop.
She vaguely heard them speak. Told you it was nothing. Just a bloke and his bird. Yer always so suspicious. Ever since the new guy took over the business. And she might have heard the footsteps depart, but her attention was fully on the warmth and intensity of Draco's kiss.
She was lost in it.
And in so, so, so much trouble.
There was a loud crack from behind them and Draco was pulled almost violently off her, spun around and pressed up against the wall. Hermione sucked in a breath, staring wide-eyed at Harry who had his wand raised and pointed at Draco. She gave her head a shake and pushed herself away from the wall, straightening her jacket and trying to will the jelly in her knees to solidify.
She put a hand up. "Harry, stop."
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded of her. When she didn't answer straight away he turned on Draco. "And you. I should put a stop to this whole investigation and throw you back into that cell for assaulting a ministry officer."
"Calm down, Potter, before you birth a litter of kittens in front of the both of us," Draco said, inspecting his fingernails. "One might think you were Weasley using polyjuice."
Harry took a step closer and pressed the tip of his wand at Draco's throat before turning his attention on Hermione. "Are you alright?" he asked.
Still a bit dazed and out of sorts, Hermione stooped to pick up the handbag that had slipped from her fingers. "I'm fine," she said after another deep breath. "Harry, put your wand down. We had it handled. It was just to throw them off..."
She shot a warning look at Draco who couldn't seem to wipe the satisfied look off his face. Harry lowered his wand and released the spell that had trapped Draco's shoulders against the bricks. Hermione knew that the night had turned in the wrong direction. But not everything had been lost. They'd let the two men go, but one bit of information floated back up through the muddled swirl that her thoughts had become.
There was a new ringleader.
*****
The plan didn't take very long to formulate. No one liked it. Not even Draco. But it was the only way that Hermione could think of at such short notice. They'd already spent a week observing the new transactions, but not one of them involved the 'new boss' and she was running out of time. The ministry already thought that she'd spent too much time. They wanted her to make an arrest. She wanted to make an arrest and let Harry get back to his regular work.
Packing her things back into her rucksack, Hermione held out a jacket to Draco.
"There's Peruvian darkness powder in the pockets. If you need a way out..."
"I'm surprised that you trust me enough to not use it now."
Harry snapped his copy of the Prophet closed. He'd refused the prior arrangement of split rooms ever since that night in the Alley. Of course that had been both a blessing and a curse. Hermione felt stifled by the pair of them sniping at each other for a week. She also was frustrated at not being able to discuss the kiss with Draco in private.
And she was confused as to why she continued to dwell on it. He certainly didn't seem bothered or affected by it.
"Hermione has a tracking charm on you, Malfoy. It wouldn't do any good," Harry said and rose from the sofa on which he'd spent the night. Wrapping himself in his old invisibility cloak, he let himself out of the room, his voice the only way to locate where he was standing. "I won't be far from your apparition point."
Hermione looked at Draco, shifting slightly before she held out the flat cap that Draco had sported for most of the investigation. He shook his head and straightened the lines of the jacket. Before she could ask, he reached for a comb and slid it through his hair. The end result was severe and strongly emphasized his sharp features. He tucked the comb into his pocket and seemed to artfully arrange his face into a cold expression.
"Here," she said, holding out a satchel. Inside were a variety of curse items that had been provided by Bill Weasley's Egyptian friends. All of them were behind a variety of shielding charms so they wouldn't kill anyone the moment they saw the light of day. But each one of them was strictly forbidden by the Ministry.
If they had known that Hermione had them, she probably would have been reprimanded herself.
"If you have to leave them behind, we can retrieve them at a later date. Just get in, get the name..."
"And get out. I know. If you haven't forgotten, I have actually been a part of these types of transactions before."
Draco inspected the long strap of the satchel and then tucked it inside the bag, using the short handles to carry it more like a briefcase instead of a messenger bag. He extended his hand, without her having to ask. Hermione touched his fingertips and the world bent around them until they were standing next to a darkened warehouse. Hermione flicked her wand and enacted the disillusionment charm around herself. She wasn't about to follow Draco, but she needed to be sure she wouldn't be seen.
He gave her a nod and squared his shoulders, walking purposefully toward the one door, light leaking out from beneath it.
"I don't like this," Harry's voice behind her made Hermione jump. "I don't trust him."
"You haven't since you were eleven," Hermione pointed out, edging along the building so she could nudge one of George's extendable ears against the door.
Draco kept to his word and followed script. He spoke of the items he'd acquired and their danger. He refused to make any transaction without knowing with whom he was dealing. Hermione smiled and pulled out a biro, writing a name on her hand. She held out her palm in Harry's direction, then tugged the ear away, moving back into the darkness. The door opened and she could hear Draco make arrangements for the next night. He bid the group goodbye and walked back towards where she was standing.
He was, of course, followed, but before they rounded the same corner he had, Draco's hand met hers and they were gone, apparating back to the hotel.
*****
Everything that followed happened very quickly. A sting was arranged, the ringleader was arrested and Hermione was indeed reprimanded for not declaring the dangerous goods she with which she had been bartering. The only thing that kept her from being sacked directly was that she'd broken through one of the more lucrative smuggling operations in England. Though perhaps not the only thing. As Draco had said, she was Hermione Granger. If the DoMLE had sacked her, the papers would have gone mad.
"You could do this," Hermione said, draping her uniform cloak over the back of her sofa. Her flat was small, but after close to a month of hotel visits, it was good to be home. "You could work for the department."'
Draco shifted, looking agitated, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Ever since they had finished with the case, he'd taken on a different stance. His comments were clipped and he looked as if he would bolt at any moment. Hermione didn't blame him. He had to have come to the realization that once the criminals were apprehended, he would no longer be of use to the Ministry.
"Kept as a pet and only taken out of my cell when I'm needed to get you lot out of a mess?" he said with a scowl. "No, thank you. I'd rather just be getting back if you don't mind. We are done here, are we not?"
He held out his arm, pushing his sleeve up and waited.
Hermione walked over to a large roll-top desk up against one wall. Pushing up the cover, she drew out a signed parchment and a long box. Clearing her throat she stepped over to him, touching his wrist with one hand and lowering it to his side. "Draco Malfoy. The Ministry thanks you for your assistance. This is a pardon, signed by the Minister for Magic and witnessed by both Harry and myself." She held out the parchment and then the box. "This is your wand."
"My wand." Draco repeated and looked at her, confused.
"They didn't really snap it after your trial. So I asked that it be returned to you." When he didn't stop staring at her, she gave him a half smile. "You'd really be surprised how much influence Saint Potter's best friend actually has."
"Can I remove the tracing charm on my own, then?" he asked.
Hermione looked down at his bare forearm and then up to his face. "There isn't one."
"I'm sorry?"
"You were completely right. I had no business marking you against your will. It was just a voiceless Lumos charm. It had to look like I did something or you wouldn't have been released into my custody."
For a moment he looked torn between wanting to lecture her for the ruse or pick her up into his arms and spin her about. Hermione was surprised when he did neither, but tucked the wand under his arm. He folded the parchment and pushed it into his pocket. They stood awkwardly for a long moment, only to have the spell broken by the loud chime of Hermione's grandfather clock. Draco shook his head and moved toward the door.
"Give it some thought, Draco," Hermione said as he stepped across her threshold. "You're smart and the DoMLE could use smart Aurors."
It was better this way, she decided once he'd left in an almost stunned silence. They'd never spoken of the kiss or the long nights, talking and playing chess. Too often her thoughts had dwelled on these things, but thought it best if she not bring any of it up. He had his own opinions of her and she couldn't expect that they would change. She just didn't have a right to those feelings that had stirred deep in her stomach. Not after just a few weeks in close company. Rolling the cover of her desk closed, Hermione flicked her wand toward the kitchen, setting the kettle to boil. She then grabbed her coat and went to the door so she could fetch her Muggle post from the neighbour.
Jumping back with a yelp when she opened the door, Hermione looked up at Draco who was standing in her doorway.
"There was something I forgot to ask you," he said by way of a greeting. "I didn't want to leave until I'd gotten an answer."
The question wasn't verbal, however. Instead he stepped across her threshold and cupped either side of her face in his hand, lowering his mouth to hers. Hermione froze, the coat slipping from her fingers and two or three heartbeats later, her arms were around his neck. She kissed him back fiercely, trying to answer whatever his question had been, asking a few of her own while she was at it.
Draco pulled back slightly and spoke with a wry tone. "Well... that's one way of putting it."
"Is there another way?" she asked, her lips only a scant distance from his. She could feel his smile without having to look at it and her nose bumped his. "Maybe you should ask again."
"Should I?"
"Yes. And you should listen to me. I've been told I have a surprising amount of influence."
Hermione didn't let him reply, her mouth pressing against his and preventing anything else from being said.
THE END