Harry Potter, Sherlock 1. Meeting Sherlock

**Salutations everyone! Its Brittany and Lupita. We're back! And with another tale to spin. In case there is any confusion upon reading, this story will be a cross-over of Harry Potter & Sherlock Holmes. This story is rated M for a reason, so if you're easily offended by gore, abuse and smut, this is not the story for you. Otherwise enjoy Dramione for all its worth.**

**The title for this story comes from a song by Mumford and Son's called: Ghosts That We Knew**

**Please Review!**

* * *

The quiet halls of the Ministry of Magic were suddenly broken with the abrupt stomping of one Draco Malfoy's feet as he stormed his way into an elevator and exited down a corridor, a leather-bound folder in his hands and a scowl draped over his pallor engrossed face. As he reached the door at the end of the hall, Draco threw it open without the decency of even explaining his presence to the secretary who watched him walk past her.

"Granger." He sneered, throwing the said paperwork on her desk as she was completely enveloped in her own world of cases need solving. "What is this rubbish?!"

Her eyes were slightly wide as she stared up at him. "I don't know, Malfoy. Depends on what you just rudely threw onto my desk." She reached for it, not even looking up at him as she opened the folder.

"Don't get snippey with me!" He spat, "I asked you to write a decent report for the Minister for this afternoon and you sent me this?!"

She sighed. "It's not my fault you don't recognize good literature when it's put in front of your nose." Despite practically working side by side, there loathing towards one another never seemed to change since Hogwarts.

"Good literature?" Draco laughed heartily at the statement, needless to say mocking her wasn't something he grew out of. And judging by the fists tightly clenched at his sides, his attitude would only worsen the longer he was in the room. "My elf could write better reports blindfolded."

"Then maybe _you_ should write it, Malfoy. I am not rewriting this so you can simply have another reason to insult me." She slammed the folder down onto her desk.

His body was completely still. The loud noise hadn't even made him flinch and he merely looked down at the paperwork and then back up at her flustered face. "Don't forget who writes your check, Granger. I can easily have you thrown on your arse without so much as a warning."

Hermione breathed heavily, her chest rising and falling. "Then do it, Malfoy. And let's see you find someone else who does all you work for you as fast as I do."

"Mr. Malfoy." He heard someone call from the door way.

Draco groaned, exhaling with a grumble, "What?" He snapped turning his head to the side without looking directly at who was speaking to him. "I'm rather busy at the moment."

"It's Mr. Wesley, sir. He requests your presence in his office, immediately."

"I expect that report _re-written_ within two hours, Granger. No exceptions." Mercury filled iris' glared up at Hermione, his gaze lingering for a few seconds before he adamantly made his retreat, nearly knocking over Hermione's secretary on the way out.

"Oh I'll rewrite it, alright." She grumbled under her breath. "I'll show him." She yanked open the letter, quickly making a few changes, ones she thought would really show Malfoy's 'intelligence'. She grinned when she was done, and with a wave of her wand, magically put Malfoy's signature on it. The grammar was horrible. Not to mention the handwriting. It looked like a first year had written it. She grinned. In two hours, Malfoy would have his letter. Only it would already be in Kingsley's hand.

* * *

Draco's emerald family ring rhythmically clinked on the table as he sat, deep in thought overlooking his paperwork with one hand enveloped in the front strands of his hair, elbow propped on the table, dressed in his famous black suit. He had sat in the same spot for over an hour, and when he went to move his leg a little, found that it was numb and sore.

There was a sudden knock on the door, and his secretary picked her head into his room, looking nervous at doing so. "Mr. Malfoy, The Minister is here with Ms. Granger. He wants to speak with you."

"Send him in." He replied mindlessly and stretched his sore tired muscles briefly before fixing the few stacks of paperwork he had scattered along his desk.

It took only a few seconds before Kingsley walked in, Hermione on his tail. "Malfoy, what is this? Is this a joke?" He tossed the letter into his desk, almost mimicking what he had done to Hermione earlier.

"I'm afraid I don't understand what you're referring to."

He nodded towards the letter. "Ms. Granger came to me and informed that you had her deliver this to me." Hermione couldn't help but raise her eyebrow at Malfoy. He would know in a second what she did. And she didn't care.

Curious, he opened the letter and scanned it, eyes widening at the words, not to mention the handwriting scribbled around the parchment. She was trying to frame him, and part of him wanted to praise her on the conniving behavior that only Slytherin's prided themselves in but the other...wanted to prove her that he wasn't to be trifled with.

"Minister." He chuckled haphazardly, "There had to have been some mistake on the delivery of this letter." He held it up in plain view, "You see, it doesn't have my watermark at the bottom. Most likely a joke by one of the partners upstairs."

Deftly, Draco reached into his desk and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment addressed to the minister and held it out for him to take. "This is the correct report."

Hermione immediately stepped forward. He wasn't getting out of this. "That's not what you handed me, _Malfoy_."

"No." He answered. "If you remember correctly, Granger. This is the letter you sent to my office not two hours ago. Or is that not your signature at the bottom?"

"Of course it's my signature!" She defended. "Because you give me every bloody piece of work you don't feel like doing!"

"Lower your voice. There's no need to shout, I can hear you just fine three feet away."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue again, but Kingsley interrupted her. "That's enough. You two obviously have issues to work out that goes further than work. Get over your school grudges. Grow up." He sighed, holding the letter in front of him.

"From now on, Mr. Malfoy, bring me your letters personally, and as for you Ms. Granger, like it or not, Mr. Malfoy is your boss. Do what he says. Or find a new job. Simple as that." He didn't say another word, and left the room before either one of the rivals could say anything else.

Hermione stood there, glaring at Draco. "I hate you." She said through her teeth. "You're a bloody prick!"

"You brought this on yourself; Trying to frame me like that." Draco's arms folded tightly against his chest, returning his glare with an added smirk gracing his lips. "Remember who you're dealing with Granger. Did you really think that stunt was going to work in your favor?"

Breathing heavily through her nostrils, she approached him, not stopping until she was close enough to touch him. She wanted to pull out her wand, wanted to show him that he wasn't going to pick on her, but knowing Malfoy, he'd only report her. "I don't care what the Minister says. You're _not_ in charge of me. I am _not_ your own personal secretary. I will not stand for it anymore, Malfoy."

"No. But you do work for me Granger." His voice was cool and collected as he held his ground, staring down at her without the slightest hint of fear or intimidation. "Like it or not, I am your superior in this department. You can whine all you want to, but at the end of the day, _I _am the one that gives you an agenda to follow-up on each morning." He backed away to give himself some space between her, but didn't break his cold gaze, moving swiftly.

"There's the door." Draco pointed into the space behind her. "No one is keeping you here against your own will."

She glared at him, looking him up and down before turning on the spot and heading for the door. She stopped when her hand was on the doorknob. "We have an auror meeting directly after lunch in the Minister's conference room. My _real _boss wanted me to inform you." Without another word, she stormed out, slamming the door so hard behind her the pictures hanging on the walls shook.

"If she thinks that stunt is supposed to make me nervous," Draco sat back down in his seat, fiddling through his files and taking a sip of his drink from the table. "She's sadly mistaken."

* * *

Hermione stood against the wall, arms crossed over her chest as she couldn't help but watch the smug little prick from across the room as he stood proudly next to the Minister. She bit her lower lip and rolled her eyes as the Minister addressed the great work he had done so far in his position, ignoring the questioning look she was getting from Harry.

"Now..." Kingsley's smile fell, turning to address all the aurors working that day in the department. "As you all know, and I'm sure heard from the papers, there's a murderer who has seemed to get away from us at every turn we take, killing muggleborns and muggles alike. No doubt a death eater of Voldemort's or a wizard gone off the deep end. Now, I will need two people on this case and _only_ this case, working together, to catch the person responsible before anybody else is killed. Do I have any volunteers?"

Draco could feel someone gaping into his skull and turned to catch Hermione giving him a nasty glare with fiery hot eyes and her arms tightly folded against her chest. She reminded him of his 4-year-old self pouting in a corner after being taken on one of his mother's boring shopping trips as a boy and sulking in the dress shop. He then leaned forward slightly and raised a brow at her, mouthing the words, "What are you staring at?" Directly at her.

She rolled her eyes, immediately looking away and pushing herself off the wall with her feet. "Minister, I'll take the case." She spoke up, smugly walking towards Malfoy. She waited until she was within a couple of feet from him, then turned around, giving him her back and smiling at Kingsley. "It would be an honor."

"Honor my ass." He muttered under his breath, and hitched a laugh in his throat.

"I admire your tenaciousness ." Kingsley smiled, "But." He cleared his throat, overlooking the group of wizards nodding in approval. "You have to understand that I can't let you go on this mission alone. Being as you're a Muggle-born yourself, I'd be sending you out as a target if I didn't have an experienced tracker go with you."

What he said next shocked everyone in the room, including the record keeper who more often than not, kept a straight face even when someone cracked a joke.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'd like you to be Ms. Granger's partner on this particular case."

"What?" Draco exasperated, shooting up from his place in the group and pointing a finger at Hermione who shared his same face of displeasure. "You want me to work with _her_?"

"Minister, that is a mistake." Hermione fought back, trying her best to remain respectful at the same time.

"I understand your concern for me being a muggleborn, but I am one of the most talented witches in this department and I can handle this case on my own. I don't need _him_." She threw a finger behind him, pointing at Malfoy just like he was doing to her.

"And Draco is also the wizard who has the most inside knowledge on Death Eaters. Let's not forget he has many connections you don't, Ms. Granger. One of which is his dueling and tracking. I believe you two would be quite useful to one another in solving this murder case."

"Minister," Draco interrupted, "With all due respect, I can't work with this witch." He held back his tongue from refraining to call her something along the lines of 'stubborn bitch'. "This case would be over before it started."

"Yeah... I wonder why he has those connections." Hermione couldn't help herself, it came out of her mouth before she even meant to say it. She knew she couldn't be the only one thinking it though. But she immediately regretted saying it.

"In case you hadn't noticed Granger," He bravely took a step towards her. Red growing in his cheeks and spreading into the rest of his face. "I didn't have a choice. My family was trying to stay alive. Or did that little detail slip your mind when you opened that mouth of yours?"

Hermione nervously licked her lips, not daring to even look at the Slytherin now standing next to her. "Minister... Malfoy and I don't get along. This match would be a disaster."

"Do you remember what I said to the two of you earlier?"

Hermione could feel her reserve falling. She wouldn't win this argument. She would be stuck with Malfoy for the rest of her life.

"You two are working on this together. End of discussion." He turned away from them and back to the room. "Meeting adjourned. Everyone have a great weekend off."

Draco threw one last look at Hermione, his eyes writhing with an intense loath and hate, before storming out of the room, shoving other Auror's out of his way.

_This was not the way he wanted to start his weekend: Knowing that Monday morning, he'd be chained to Hermione Granger for an unknown period of time and that by the end of this case, he'd either be emotionally scarred or be the forever laughing-stock of all Purebloods since the first mudblood that was sorted into Slytherin centuries ago._

* * *

"The case hasn't even started and she's already late." Draco grumbled, staring out the window of the minister's office with his hands behind his back, every so often looking up at the clock. "Are you still confident in your choice of partner?" He asked Kingsley.

Both he and Hermione were supposed to meet the Minister sharply at 9' o'clock for debriefing and so far Hermione being half an hour late, wasn't lessening Draco's hate for her.

"Mr. Malfoy, you and I both know, she's quite capable of being a valuable asset to you. And the quicker you realize that, the better you'll be off." He replied, dipping his quill into an ink vial and signing off one of the many rolls of parchment stacked on his desk.

'Ass is right.'

The door quickly burst open, and Hermione rushed in, stacks and stacks of papers in her hands, some falling to the floor from the speed she was moving. She groaned, bending down and picking them up off the ground, throwing them back onto her pile. "I'm sorry. I'm late, I know." She gave an apologetic look to Kingsley, not even bothering to look at Malfoy.

"Nearly an hour late to be precise." Draco continued to look down at his beloved London, watching automobiles pass by and people blissfully unaware of the dangers they were putting themselves in when they stepped outside their homes. How wonderful it must be, to live life without the worries of what tomorrow would bring?

Hermione rolled her eyes, turning to face him. "I'm sorry, Malfoy. I didn't realize you never lost track of time. You should know I already did half of your job." She dropped the papers onto the Ministers desk. "That's a list of every known Death Eater. Whether they're dead, in Azkaban, or have yet to have been discovered, they're there." She paused as the Minister reached for her papers. "Even you, Malfoy."

"Oh goody." He drawled, "You've solved the case, would you like a lolly?"

"Actually, Ms. Granger. Now that you're here, there's something I'd like to speak to the both of you about."

Ignoring Draco's comment, she turned to the minister. "Do you have a lead?"

"Something like that." Kingsley offered his hand to the two empty seats in front of him. Folding his hands to rest in front of him and on the desk, leaning forward in his seat.

Hermione immediately took a seat, sincerely eager to solve the case. It was safe to say she was taking this case personal. The minister was right. She could be their next target. She stared down at her lap, trying to wait patiently for Malfoy to sit down next to her.

"I think better when I'm standing." He moved to stand next to Hermione and behind the chair he was offered, dressed in his best black suit.

Was he always dressed for a funeral? Maybe it was for his soul, dying a little each day.

"Continue, sir."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't have to be scared to sit next to a 'muggleborn', Malfoy. We don't bite."

"So what exactly is going on Minister? Do you have any leads on who it might be?"

"No." Kingsley smiled, pulling a small Manila folder out from under him and slid it over towards Draco and Hermione, "But I've got the next best thing."

Draco snatched the folder before Hermione could open it, his eyes darting over to the picture of a man with a pointed nose and sharp facial features, he didn't recognize, in a black pea-coat and blue scarf. God, if his cheekbones were any sharper they'd cut right through his skin. "Sir. What exactly is this?" He questioned.

"Someone who can find our killer, and I'd like you two to visit him in his flat. You'll find him at 221B Baker Street."

* * *

Hermione walked down the dark street in London, just hours after the sun fell, Draco following after her as they made their way towards the people who would help them. Even though the Minister recommended them himself, she didn't trust though, which was obvious as she gripped her wand tightly inside her cloak pockets.

"Oh Merlin." Draco muttered under his breath, with a slight roll of his eyes. "Will you at least try to act like you aren't afraid of your own shadow out here, Granger? The dark isn't going to bite."

She ignored him, rolling her eyes. "I have a problem trusting people, Malfoy. Like most people involved in the war do now. You can't blame me."

"No. But I CAN blame you if this, _Holmes_ character doesn't take us seriously because we end up knocking on his door in the middle of the night. Which is the time will be arriving at the rate were going."

She sighed deeply, loudly. "Merlin, Malfoy. We're a block away. Stop complaining about every little thing, will you?" She turned to glare at him as she turned a corner, now heading down their desired street.

"Arrogant geek." Draco quietly said to himself, as he fell back to keep the distance between them greater. "She thinks she's so great. Bloody Ginger loving-"

Hermione was now studying the house numbers, and when she saw the one they were looking for, she came to a stop in the middle of the street. She stood there, nervously staring at the door, biting her lips together.

"Just knock." Draco huffed in annoyance and stepped forward, shoving her with his shoulder as he moved, and knocked on the door quickly.

When no one came to answer, he knocked again, this time harder and louder.

There wasn't anyone approaching the door, and people who were walking along the streets turned their heads in curiosity, some snickering as they walked away.

"Have patience, Malfoy." Hermione said as she came up behind him, eyeing the people watching them. "Don't want them to _not_ take us seriously." She turned back to him, raising her eyebrow daringly, mocking him with the same words he used to mock her.

Draco stopped his hand mid-way of another knock, and turned his head slowly. He had moved until their bodies were too close for comfort, just like the little 'endeavor' they had shared in Hermione's office. "Don't mock me Granger." He warned.

Her defenses didn't fall like they normally would have. "Or what, Malfoy? Huh? What are _you_ gonna do about it?"

"How about I hex you? That sound good?"

"Sounds great, actually. I've always wanted a reason to place you under arrest." She crossed her arms over her chest daringly. "You would be making my dreams come true."

"Oh that's rich Granger. Like_ you_ would ever best me in a duel."

They really should have been paying attention to their surroundings instead of feuding before the case even started.

"I can. And I already have, Malfoy. You think you're so great because you have more money then me? And because you're a_ pureblood_? When it comes to knowledge, I have you beat. And I always will."

"Umm." A voice hesitantly called out to them, standing at the doorstep of the address they were sent out to investigate. His dirty blond hair was combed back neatly and his hands were clenched tightly around his groceries, an eyebrow now raised as he studied their sudden need to yell at each other. "Excuse me, are you two alright?"

Hermione turned at hearing the voice, ignoring Draco's glaring eyes that never left her. "Yes. I'm sorry. I guess I didn't realize how loud we were being. Do you... live here?"

He hallowed out his reply, a pair of keys in his hand. "Why?"

"He's not the one we're looking for, Granger."

"You don't know that, Malfoy. You don't know _everything._"

"He?" The older gentleman asked, setting his bag down carefully. His hand slipped into his coat, while the two were starting to argue for a second time, pulling out his gun and preparing himself for the worst. Their strange long coats and behavior was making him uneasy and with the recent kidnappings and assaulting going around lately, he found it better to prepare himself.

"Just who are you looking for?" He demanded, cocking his gun and pointing it at them.

Hermione heard the click of the weapon, and immediately recognized it. She turned to him, hands up in surrender. "We're not here it harm anyone. We're police officers."

"Nice try." The weapon was still raised, directed right at their hearts. "You're not officers."

"Granger." Draco scoffed. "You're not serious. It's not even remotely close to harming you for fuck's sake."

"What he's holding in his hands is the killing curse wrapped up in a metal casing for muggles, Malfoy." She turned and glared at him. "Do you want to die?" Slowly, her gaze fell back on the man. "Please, sir. We're here to see a man by the name of Sherlock Holmes."

Draco turned to look at the gun and then back to Hermione with the most bored looking expression on his face. "I've seen more terrifying things in my backyard."

"What do you want with Sherlock?"

Hermione ignored Draco. "We need his help with a case we're working on."

His defenses seemed to be falling as the grip on the handle was loosening. "Who sent you?" He asked, voice slightly calmer.

"Our boss. Kingsley Shacklebot..."

"And what's he?" The man pointed the gun at Draco briefly, before turning the weapon back. "Your body-guard?"

"Body guard?!" Draco exclaimed. "I'll have you know that-"

Hermione quickly cut him off. "He's my partner. We're on this case together." Merlin, she wished Malfoy could control himself.

"If anything, she's my 'assistant'."

"Does Sherlock know you're here?" The man had finally lowered his weapon, safety locked into place and nestling it in the safety of his holster.

"My _partner_ and I have knocked for ages but no one has answered."

"Shut up Granger." Draco muttered under his breath, earning a sharp elbow jabbed into his chest from Hermione. A small grin growing on her lips.

"That's strange." He pondered, pursing his lips. "He has to be home. Here," and bent down to grab his bags again, after opening the door. "Let me see if he's home. Just wait here."

"Thank you." Hermione gave him a soft smile. "Would you like help with your bags?"

"Oh don't worry about it. I could use the exercise." He smiled down at Hermione as he climbed up the steps. "Sherlock?"

The door was slightly cracked open and Draco took this as an opportunity to catch the so-called detective off guard and do a little investigating of his own. Granger was stupid if she thought she was just going to take all the credit for this case.

"Well I'm not about to wait here in the bloody cold."

"Malfoy, what are you doing?!"

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?" He deadpanned, already inside the flat while Hermione watched in horror from outside, constantly turning her head, keeping vigil.

"You shouldn't be in here. You're trespassing."

"Fine, you can freeze." He shrugged, "Makes no difference to me."

Hermione whipped her head a few more times, cursing under her breath at the tenacity of the Slytherin in front of her. This case with Malfoy was going to spark a long-term ailment of insanity, from which there would be no cure.

She turned to face Draco as she entered. "We'll have to tell them were magical, you know."

"Are you mental?" He shouted in a hushed whisper. "That's against decree, you know that."

"Besides," Draco stepped further into the flat, peering at some of the old photographs displaced on the withered wallpapered walls. "This man probably doesn't even know what he's doing."

"Don't insult him. You don't even know him. Seriously, what's your problem?"

"It's glaring at me as we speak."

She scoffed. "I feel sorry for you if I'm the reason for all your problems."

* * *

"Sherlock, what are you doing rummaging through my things?!"

"My laptop was on the table and yours was closer, Watson." Sherlock shrugged, searching a headline in his white long sleeved shirt and slacks, any headline that would interest him as he sat sulking and bored as the sound of his flat-mate dropping a few bags on the floor reached his ears. Splayed out on the couch like a cat sunbathing near an open window.

"That bread's mash, now." He added. Fingers clacking away on the keyboard and the light from the screen reflecting a blueish hue on his pale face.

"How did you even unlock my password?" John slammed the laptop closed and snatched it away, back into its briefcase.

"It wasn't that difficult to decipher." He fell back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling. "You should come up with something a bit more challenging."

Watson rolled his eyes, making his way over to him.

"What?"

"I've got a new case for you." He said idly from the kitchen, picking through his bags and finding a loaf of bread half sunken in on one side, just like Sherlock said it would be.

The detective sighed, "I'm not interested."

"Just talk to them, Sherlock. They've waited outside for a while."

"I know. I've heard them arguing for an eternity."

"And you didn't bother to see what they wanted?!"

From the bottom of the staircase near the entrance way, Hermione and Draco could hear their less than amiable conversation.

Hermione looked up at the ceiling as she heard the two men arguing. "That doesn't sound good."

"Well only one of them is yelling. Sounds like the one who tried to 'kill' you."

The next line spoken by Sherlock, struck a chord with Draco.

"Didn't strike me as important. And they can sort out their own marriage problems."

"Marriage problems?!" Draco Malfoy was the king of cold and some would call collected at his best times, and right now...he had lost it. He widened his gaze and ran, practically flew up the steps and threw the door open. "What did you say?!"

"Shit." Hermione ran after him, thankfully getting to him and putting herself between Draco and the two strangers. "Malfoy... Stop! They don't know! How could they?"

Sherlock merely sighed, crooning his hands around the back of his head, counting the designs on the opposing walls. "Watson, who is this?"

"We. Are. Not. Married." He gestured between Hermione and himself. "Nothing in this world is going to make that a reality. I can assure you."

"This is..well, I never actually got their names." Watson said.

Hermione stared at Draco for a few seconds, ignoring his overly rude and hurtful comment, and turned to face the two men. "I'm Hermione Granger. And this overly kind boy behind me is Draco Malfoy. But feel free to call him ferret if you wish."

"I'm not a ferret!" He snapped. Good lord if Granger was a bloke, he would have knocked out her teeth by now.

Sherlock turned to briefly glance at Draco and Hermione, looking them up and down and then sighing dejectedly. "Miss, unless you plan on calming down your spoiled friend over there, I'd really rather just get back to my work."

_Was staring up at four thousand three hundred and twenty-four fleur-de-lis for the billionth time in a row count as work?_

"Sherlock!"

"Look, sir, I know Malfoy can be a total wanker, but we need your help. Please. People are dying..."

If Sherlock had been a feline, he would have jumped to his feet and perked up his ears at the sound of, "Murder?"

_By George its like Christmas!_

She nodded her head. "Although Malfoy won't admit it, we need all the help we can get."

Sherlock intertwined his fingers and rested them near his chin as he leaned forward, soaking those few bits of information in. "Are there any leads?"

She nodded. "There's something you should know before we continue. We're-"

"From the ministry." He cut her off quickly. "Yes, I already know."

"But how did you-"

"Simple observation really. Your clothes and mannerisms gave you away."

Hermione and Draco shared a look of confusion, which was probably the first time they ever looked at each other with anything but hate. "But... that doesn't explain how you know."

"And it would take an eternity to explain how but you can blame your friend over there on your cover being blown."

"Me?" Draco irked incredulously. "What did I do?"

Sherlock sighed for what felt like the hundredth time, and got to his feet, before starting an ordeal of listing everything, down to the tiniest detail.

"I know you come from money but the ring on your finger isn't from any crest I recognize from the royal families."

Draco went to open his mouth in rebuttal, but was again, cut short by the older detective brushing up on his vast power of observation.

"There are tiny beads of sweat accumulating on the top of your head, which let's me know you're either nervous or agitated and judging by your recent little outburst, I'm assuming aggravated. Your wand is sticking out slightly from its holster on your left hand side, which also let me know you're right-handed."

"That doesn't mean any-"

"I've seen your name in a few articles after I happened to work with your previous Prime Minister, Cornelius Fudge. You don't have a speck of dirt or dust on your suit, which let's me know you've apparated close by. Because had you been in a car, there would have been scuff marks on the back of your heels after entering the car. But why drive when you can always 'teleport'. And, the fact that you asked me how I knew instead of denying the matter," His eyes drifted over to Hermione, "Also helped."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "I think you're exactly the detective were looking for." She slowly turned and looked at Draco, the back to Sherlock. "We'd be honored to have you help us."

Sherlock continued to stare Draco down as he glared back at the detective. "What's in it for me?" He spoke slowly with a hard face, his back teeth grinding against each other in nothing more than a display of ferocity.

"Money." Draco said dully, sizing him up and mindlessly running his hand along the top of his ring while clenching his two hands in front of him as they laid clasped. His regal stance and stare radiating from his broad shoulders, like an ancient king, refusing to bow to any man.

"I would expect nothing more from a wealthy man." Sherlock opened his mouth before Draco could finish his sentence, again... "I have no interest in money."

Hermione stared at the two nervously. "What would you like?" Hermione chimed in. "You would be recognized among the entire Wizarding community for your hard work."

"Recognition?" He chuckled lightly, his eyes now on Hermione. "London has already done that for me. _Thoroughly_, I might add."

"Then what?" Draco snapped.

Hermione sighed deeply. She wanted to smack and blonde next to her. Could he be anymore rude? "Please. People are dying. Whatever you want... I'm sure we can get it for you."

This could work..his questions would finally have answers and he could unravel just what and how this mystical world managed to stay hidden for so long. "I'll do it under one condition." He curved his lips just so, to the point where it almost formed a smile and confident in his plan, spoke directly to Hermione. "If _you_ would be so kind as to allow me passage into the Wizarding World, Ms. Granger. Watson as well."

"Me?" Her finger pointed into her own chest. "I... I don't know." She nervously glanced at Draco. "I mean, it's not allowed. Only under certain circumstances."

"It's subject to imprisonment." Draco stepped forward, his fingers ready to yank his wand from its holster. "What you're asking could send her," He cleared his throat as he corrected himself, "_us_ to a maximum security prison. And I don't know about you Granger but I don't fancy a trip to Azkaban."

Hermione stared at Draco, deep in thought. If she could stop this murderer, then maybe it would be worth it. "...With the right potion, nobody would know it's him."

Just as Sherlock's smile grew wider, Draco put himself in front Hermione, with the very scowl he had inherited.

"You can't be serious Granger." He almost sounded like he was pleading with her.

She bit her lips together. "We need him, Draco."

"And _I_ need to stay out of Jail." Draco grabbed Hermione's arm, gently but forcefully pulling her away and out of ear shot.

"Have you gone mental? What would Weaslebee say to this?" He hated bringing up the stupid ginger nuts but found no other way to get his point across.

"He'll be jealous of course, but honestly, I couldn't care less. Our job is to protect the Wizarding world and the people in it, no matter the cause. That's what we're doing. Our _job_."

"By breaking our most absolute law!" He snapped in a low whisper. Draco, using his past skills as a seeker, snatched Hermione's wrist a little harder than he should have, twisting it upon doing so. There would probably be a bruise later on. "We don't know anything about this man, and frankly, I'm beginning to question Kingsley's decisions on having us join up with this man."

Hermione yanked her wrist from his grip, shoving him back. "Don't touch me, Malfoy!" She was trying to ignore the pain he had caused her. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll take the blame. And far as you know, we're paying Mr. Holmes." She pushed last him, going towards the two men and extending her hand. "We have a deal."

Draco's groans of disapproval, not to mention regret filled Sherlock's ears like fine music. He was reveling in his victory and Draco's ecstatic cries of joy only sweetened it as he shook Hermione's hand.

"Watson?" He called, "Go and tell Mrs. Hudson that we're going out-of-town for a few days."

Watson folded his arms, "And what am I supposed to tell Mary, Holmes? That we're just going on some day trip?"

"Not a day-trip Watson." He wrapped his hand around Hermione's, and shook it. "A Case."

Hermione gave him a small smile. "We'll set you up in a hotel right outside Diagon Alley. Easy access to anything we might need."

"Grand. I look forward to it."

She reached into her cloak, pulling out a piece of paper and scribbling down the address. "A room will be ready for you when you're all packed upon your arrival. We'll see you tomorrow morning." She have them a quick smile before turning and starting to head out if the home. She didn't want to speak to Draco. She didn't want to speak with him for the rest of her life.


	2. The Next Victim

Sherlock Holmes and his companion, John Watson, had arrived at the hotel Hermione had instructed them to that early morning with nothing more than a suitcase to accommodate them both. Or should they say, John came well prepared and Sherlock just stuffed a few articles of clothing into John's suitcase without him knowing...insisting that his intelligence would far overcompensate his lack of clothes. He had to have sat in the same spot for 2 hours, just searching and re-reading previous articles he saved from weeks ago.

"John." He absentmindedly called; the reflection of the bright screen and plethora of letters shinning against his steel blue eyes.

John perked his head from the table as he was eating a breakfast of toast and his usual cup of coffee. "Yes?"

"Have you seen my notebook?"

He sighed, turning his head to glance over at him and scoffed as the notebook laid to a table on his left. "Sherlock. It's right there." He pointed.

"Bring it to me, would you?" Sherlock's eyes never left the laptop while he spoke. Statuesque and stone like, he sat with an outstretched arm and an open palm, ready to receive.

"It's two feet away from you!" John snapped.

Holmes didn't even look at him but held his palm open for a few more lingering seconds. A groan followed along with a chair scraping and the sound of something hard smacking against the inside of his hand, "Thank you."

There was a sudden knock on the door, before a key turned and Hermione made an appearance. She squeezed through a crack of the door, immediately shutting it and locking it behind her. She turned, looking around, her eyes falling on the two men staring at her curiously. "Sorry." She grumbled. "Can't be too careful. Nobody saw you coming up here, did they?" Her eyes fell on the laptop. "I mean, were they suspicious?"

"The concierge was too involved in her phone. The bellhop was going through other visitors luggage and John and I have been up here since 7 a.m. and there was a late sunrise."

"What he means to say, is no." John chuckled, getting to his feet and walking over to Hermione with a smile on his face. "Would you like a little breakfast? Sherlock isn't in the mood to eat this morning."

The sound of papers flipping and keyboard keys clacking sang from his corner of the room. "I told you I wasn't hungry, John."

Hermione smiled at him. "No, thank you. I ate with Ronald before I came." She pulled her bag off her shoulder, putting it on the table and looking back up at John to see a confused expression. "Ron. My... boyfriend." She said before starting to pull papers from her bag.

"Either your boyfriend is late, or I take it he won't be joining us this morning." Sherlock sighed, shutting the laptop closed and slipping it back into its case.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at his comment, mouth falling open slightly. "If it's Malfoy you're referring to, I can assure you he's _not_ my boyfriend. Secondly, I'm happy he's late. You're not from this world. So you don't know... It's important I tell you about his past."

"His past?" Sherlock and John exchanged glances with one another but listened with curiosity to what Hermione had to say.

She nodded. "He was a death eater." She flipped through her papers, pulling out the mug shot of Draco that was filed with every other death eater, and handed it to them. "The man who tried to destroy our world had followers. Called Death Eaters. They got a dark mark to show their locality. A tattoo. On their left forearm." She pointed down to her arm. "He claims he was forced into it by his father." She flipped through some more papers, pulling out a mug shot of Lucius. "Who was also a death eater. While I know Draco isn't pure evil, like his father, he's still cruel. He mocked and made fun of me for years."

John glanced at the pictures briefly, and then handed them off to Sherlock who gazed over the black and white photographs that seemed to jump off the pages they were printed on. "If you don't mind me saying so, Ms. Granger but it doesn't seem like 'mocked' is the correct term I would use here."

"We were kids. He didn't like me because he's a pureblood and I'm a muggleborn. Basically... he was born into a family that has had wizarding blood for centuries. Where as me, I came from non-magic. He despised me for that reason. Still does. Also..." She couldn't help but smile slightly. "I'm smarter then him. Which he can't stand seeing as where I came from."

"Sounds a lot like you and Mycroft, Holmes."

"No. It most certainly is not. Unlike Mycroft, I actually _know_ what I'm doing."

Hermione cleared her throat, interrupting them. She needed to get this out before Draco showed up. "I'm telling you this because the person were looking for is more then likely going to be a death eater."

"Are you sure of that, Ms. Granger? Because if that were so," He began, quickly running to his table and snatching one of the many headlines scurried around, and pointed to a picture of a thick fog with what looked like a skull just barely visible by the naked eye against the dark. "Answer me this. Why would the killer, never leave a trace behind? If he truly were a death eater as you call it, shouldn't it be viable to leave a calling card as that 'mark' in the sky some people thought to have saw a fortnight ago."

"That mark in the sky isn't the killers trace. That mark was the mark death eaters and Voldemort used after they murdered someone." Hermione said as she finally pulled her cloak off, revealing her tight work dress, and bare shoulders that her curly hair didn't completely cover.

"My point exactly. If it were meant for those that had death eater background," He soon yanked another headline from the table. This time slowly bringing it up into the light with a light scowl on his face. "Then explain this recent murder." There was a man, completely comatose and dripping with blood with severed limbs just thrown around his already decaying body.

"Sherlock where did you-"

"Lastrade gave me a heads up this morning while you were still sleeping."

"But look, there's no dark mark symbol anywhere in the scene. Which leads me to believe, there may be someone else in on this."

Hermione held her hand out, taking it from him and examining it. She could feel a bit of tears coming to her eyes. The other people who had been murdered hadn't been killed like this. This was... torture. She quickly cleaned her throat. "This is... different. This isn't the same killer."

"Well of course it isn't, Granger."

That voice...That cold, stern voice suddenly came drifting up from behind them like a heavy fog, sucking them back into the real world. "And had you received my owl this morning, you would have been there to see with your own eyes."

It was Draco, pissed off as always with his black cloak slightly damp and dirty at the bottom. He had been outside and for quite a while, judging by the way the water had already climbed so far up his back. "There's more than one murderer. We found three sets of different footprints at the scene, along with the remnants of what smelled like goblin piss. And you and I both know what that means, Granger."

Hermione didn't even bother turning to face him, instead just let out a deep sigh. She was still pissed at him to say the least. Her wrist hurt from the night before where he grabbed her. She was dealing with it though. She would ignore him, but wouldn't act like it bothered her either. "We have a lot of work to do." She said still facing Sherlock. "How do you normally start your cases? Perhaps we can combine our ways."

He nodded, "Hands on approach is usually best. Visit the scene and get as much information as you can before the scene is disturbed."

"Granger, are you listening to me?"

She continued to ignore the Slytherin behind her. "We should get moving then. We can apparate if you're up for the challenge." She was starting to pack her stuff up into her bag again.

"Just let John and I pack a few things and we'll head out with you." Sherlock threw Hermione a smile before heading towards the back of the room with John, and grabbing their coats.

"Granger," He sighed with annoyance. "Can you just bloody turn around for a second?"

She didn't listen to him, instead grabbed her cloak, throwing it over her shoulder. "No, Malfoy. I will not."

And just when Hermione thought she would never hear those words escape from Malfoy's mouth, she heard it, clear as day. "Please?" He almost sounded like he was begging by how low his voice had dropped.

Her coat was halfway on her arm when she heard it, and it made her freeze. Slowly, she turned around and faced him, cloak still hanging halfway off her bare shoulder. "Wh-What did you just say?" She was practically whispering. She had to have heard her wrong.

"Don't make me say it again." Draco opened the door and nodded in the direction of the hallway, begging her to follow him with his eyes.

She sighed, finally putting her cloak on fully, and pulling her messenger bag over her shoulder. What could she say? He was being... nice. When they were out in the hallway, Hermione stuffed her hands in her pockets, staring at the ground.

How was he supposed to start this? It wasn't just something he could spring on her like a an early birthday present. And it only made him soften up after having this happen to him in the past. The trauma behind it...let's just say he knew what this would feel like. "Look. Before we get to the crime scene, there's something that I feel you should know."

Hermione stopped messing around in her bag, and looked up at him, curiousity in her eyes. "What? What happened?"

"This morning when I got the owl and you were no where to be found-" He started off hard, his voice scraping against the bowels of his throat in a deep, cold manner, staring down to another part of the wall adjacent to her but soon sighed when he realized how innocent and worried she seemed to be... '_Get a hold of yourself, Draco. She's not innocent looking, worried yes, but don't fall to pieces in front of her; you stupid wank.'_ He thought, clearing his throat and glancing down at his cuffs, straightening them out while speaking to her. "After the owl arrived, I headed out to an abandoned flat just south of here and-"

"Spit it out, Malfoy." Hermione snapped. "So we can get onto this case."

"You can't head out onto this case." He nearly shouted out of desperation, immediately staring out into the halls to see if anyone around had heard them.

Hermione blinked a couple times, staring up at him, perplexed. "What... What is wrong with you?"

"Just go home, Granger."

"No. I'm _going_ to the scene of the crime. You're not pushing me away and hogging it all to yourself." She pushed past him, fixing her bag over her shoulder.

Once again, faster than she could stop him, Draco had gotten a hold of her wrist, spinning her back towards him and nearly crashing them both into the walls behind them. "Granger, listen to me." He stared into her deep brown eyes with a submerged pang of, dare she say, fear. "Just go home to Weaslebee and stay there or work in your office until this case has been resolved."

She yanked her wrist from his grip. "I will not go home. This is my case too, Malfoy! Tell me what's wrong!"

"Granger." He warned through gritted teeth. "I am your superior and I order you to go home."

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. "Yeah, Malfoy. I'm really threatened." She shook her head at him before turning her back again and walking down the hallway.

"Granger!" He exclaimed, Digging into the depths of his cloak, Draco swiftly pulled out his wand, shooting a spell and setting up a tall barrier in front of her, to cease her departure. "This isn't a joke! I gave you an order and I expect you to follow it! Now come. Here. Now!"

She slowly turned to face him. "You will not control me like some... house elf, Draco Malfoy! I am a human being and I'm _trying_ to do my job!"

"And I'm trying to keep you alive!" He retorted.

"I don't need you to protect me! I can protect myself!"

"For Merlin's sake, what is wrong with you? I'm trying to help you!"

She was walking towards him now, almost stomping from anger. "I don't need you, or Harry, or my parents, or Ronald to tell me what to do! I don't need you to protect me, and tell me that my job is too dangerous! And I don't need you to boss me around like you're the boss of me, when you're not!" She gave him a shove. It was obvious she wasn't really talking about Draco, but venting from something else that had happened that very morning with Ron after another one of their long arguments about how her job was too 'dangerous'.

"First of all, I'm not Potter or Weasley. I am your boss. And second of all-"

"Screw you!" She yelled. "You are _not_ my boss!" She yanked her wand from her cloak and trend as quick as possible, getting rid of the barrier and moving past it. He was crazy if he thought that he was going to stop her from doing her job.

Apparently, his 'professional' approach wasn't working the way he thought it would and decided, despite every fiber in his being telling him no, and that he looked absolutely ridiculous anyways, "Hermione." Draco called upon a more 'gentle form', hoping his mother's character would be enough. "Wait."

She didn't listen, and instead continued down the hall, now feet from the stairs.

Draco ran his fingers into the platinum locks of his hair, letting out a small groan and quickly following in pursuit. He couldn't just leave her, not after the intel he had discovered and the fact that having her blood on his hands wouldn't look very good on his record, decided he would keep her in his sights, even if she was cross with him.

She continued to walk away from him, throwing her bag over her shoulder as it fell off as she practically ran down the stairs. In about two minutes she would be in the alley and able to apparate to the scene of the crime, completely forgetting about the fact that she was supposed to meet Sherlock and John. And she probably would have too, had Draco not managed to grab her shoulder moments after she had gotten outside, apparating them both a block away from a crowd of nosy spectators all huddled behind rows of yellow barrier tape and police pushing some away who were taking pictures and escorting those who managed to sneak past security.

"Why are you so stubborn, Granger?" He panted, the wind knocked out of him from sudden apparition and now dizzy because of it.

When she realized what had happened, she turned and faced him angrily. "Why can't you leave me alone, Malfoy?!"

"Why can't you listen to reason?" He bent over slightly, gripping his chest and leaning against a wall.

"There is no reasoning here. I'm doing my job!" She pushed past him again, making her way towards the crime scene she could see out on the main road.

"This woman is going to kill me." He hitched a laugh in his throat, moving into the crowd of people until she was right beside him.

Hermione made her way through the crowd, bending down over the yellow tape and coming to a complete halt at the bloody mess she saw before her. She immediately felt her breakfast come up into her throat. The smell was worse than the actual corpse: the recent rain that had washed the blood deep into the cracks of the cement covered roads. Metallic bursts of iron from the blood hit their noses hard, causing Draco to bring his sleeve up to his nose, and filter some of the rancid flesh away.

Hermione was holding her breath, trying her hardest not to breathe in the putrid smell. When she couldn't take staring at the scene anymore, her eyes fell onto her own feet. "Who would do this?" She mumbled.

"That's what we're being paid to find out isn't it?" Draco said idly, keeping an eye of their surroundings and the people giving them odd stares rather than the actual crime scene. He had gotten all the information he needed this morning.

"I don't know... are we?" She glanced up at him. "According to you, I should just go home and not come back till the murderer is caught."

"You should be at home, you're only here because your stubborn Gryffindor ass won't listen to me."

"I was given this mission too. Just because you think I can't handle a little bit of blood-"

He could only scoff at her own stupidity, "Yes, because the battle of Hogwarts had no bloodshed whatsoever."

She rolled her eyes at him, taking a couple more steps further, ignoring the blood and smell to examine the scene. "Have you discovered the victims names yet?"

"Yes."

"And they are?" She pulled out her notebook and pen, preparing herself.

"Already been reported to the ministry." He answered quickly.

She sighed. He would never learn. "And they are?" She repeated again, her tone more strict.

"As I said," He turned to glare at her, like an annoyed teacher to an over enthusiastic student. "They've already been reported. There's no need for you to continue asking."

She glared back at him. "Why won't you tell me? I just want it in my notes."

"You really want to know why?"

"Yes, Malfoy, as a matter of fact, I do."

"Then follow me." He ordered, stepping away from the crowd and to a small flat that no one was really paying attention to.

She let out a deep sigh, but followed anyway. She did _need_ to know for her notes. "You could have told me out there, you know."

Draco's dead set scowl met Hermione, giving her another annoyed stare before waving his wand under the safety of his cloak, "Alohamora." He whispered, and the door opened, allowing them passage inside as he held the door open for her. She stared at him, then the empty dark room, not moving. Did she really trust him? What if he was leading her into a trap. With a nervous lick of her lips, she made her way inside, her defenses heightened. "It's up here." Draco gestured up the stairwell, leading them, all the while each step bringing a slow and long creak of it's worn down frame.

"What is?" Hermione asked, not moving.

"If you want to keep working on this case, you'll stop asking questions."

Hermione looked around nervously, biting her lips together before letting out a sigh and walking up the stairs after Draco. Where was her Gryffindor bravery? Draco stood at the edge of the stairwell, waiting for her and only after she reached the final step, headed over to a closed door, hand in his holster to yank out his wand. Hermione stared at him curiously, doing the same as him and pulling out her own wand. "Malfoy... what are you doing?" She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous.

He took in a deep breath as his hand reached for the door knob, steadily holding the apparatus from turning, and only speaking to her when he was facing the door."There's still time for you to go home, you know?"

"Its just..." She gave a defeated sigh, staring at the back of his head. She didn't want to admit this to _him_. "You're making me nervous, alright?"

"Look, do you want to go home or not? I'd rather you pick a choice before Holmes and his 'boyfriend' get here."

She sighed again, pointing to the door with her wand. "Just open the damn thing."

Malfoy opened the door slowly, allowing it to gently glide open and reveal the dark putrid odor that was seeping up from the walls like vines climbing and clinging in various directions. And Draco slipped inside, waving his wand and lifting the concealment charm revealing and all to menacing discovery...This time however, the blood red vines conveyed a message written as clear as day, 'I Know Who You Are And I'm Coming After You.'

He then reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of parchment, dog-eared and yellowing, offering them to her. "I found several of these scattered on the floor. All articles...of you."

Hermione reached for them, reading over them, her heart racing even faster against her chest. "I'm next... aren't I?" Her voice was so low she was practically whispering.

"Now do you see why I asked you to go home?"

Hermione's eyes slowly traveled up to Draco's, and she hoped he couldn't see the fear hidden in them. "I'm not going to go home and just wait for the killer to come and find me... I'm safer here, on the case."

"Don't lie to me, Granger." He pulled himself away from his statuesque broad toes and turned, cloak billowing briskly like an elegant robe behind him. "You and I both know, you're safe at home."

Her eyes slowly looked up at him. "I'm not going home... I _refuse_." Her voice was soft, yet serious. She knew what was at stake with staying with this case, but she couldn't just go home and... hide.

Never in his entire career of working for the ministry as the head of his department, a position his father had occupied back in his prime, had he seen Hermione in such an inner panic. He knew she would never admit to it, but it emanated from her eyes and slipped out of her voice. "Granger," He drawled, "You can't just-"

"I can do whatever I want, Malfoy!" She cut him off, voice suddenly loud. She knew her panic was showing even more now, but she couldn't help it. "Tell me who the suspects are."

What was he supposed to do? She was obviously in need of consoling, but...was he really the right person for this situation?

_Oh this was going to be awkward._

Draco hesitantly reached out but quickly recoiled and pulled it off as scratching an itch on the back of his neck. "There were 20 hair and print samples found here. Too many for us to rule out on our own so I have the ministry looking into the list to see if anyone can be traced."

"Good." She gave him a curious look, pretending she hadn't noticed the way his hand reached out towards her but quickly retracted. What was he doing...? "We should go to the ministry then. Look at the samples. We can start interrogating people."

"What do we tell your buddies you just abandoned at the hotel?"

She groaned in frustration. "I forgot about them. They don't seem to like you much so I'll go get them and have them just stay out till we have the names of our suspects. I'll meet you back at the ministry."

"Not alone you're not." He proclaimed, stepping forward and blocking her way to show how serious he was being. "And don't start. You know I'm right about this."

"Why are you being so protective of me? You don't care about me. We hate each other. Three years ago you would have loved watching me die."

"I'm not protecting you." Draco snapped, rolling his eyes at her. "Don't flatter yourself Granger." He cleared the area for the second time that day with a flick of his wand, to which he tucked back into his coat when he was finished. "I'm just doing my job." He mumbled.

"Good." She pushed past him, heading for the door. "Then I'll meet you at the ministry."

"Won't you just admit for once that you need my help?" He exasperated, right at her heels.

"Not till you admit you're being protective of me." She said casually, not even bothering to turn and face him.

"I'm not protecting you for the sake of protecting you." He forced himself upon her, yanking her back. He refused to be ignored, especially by some egotistical hardheaded, frizzy filled Mudblood. "I'm following you because I don't want to become a suspect if your ass goes missing."

She sighed. "Malfoy nobody is going to suspect you."

"Like you would know anything about being judged."

She glared back at him. "Did you _seriously_ just say that? You think I don't know what it's like to be judged. _You_ judged me more than any other person in existence. Called me mudblood more times than I can count, picked on me and my friends for the dumbest reasons, made fun of me and my... teeth and my bushy hair!" She scoffed. "You're an ass, Malfoy."

"And you and Potter nearly had me killed in our sixth year! And don't forget what happened in my manor! You know you three would be dead if it wasn't for me."

"Because of you!?" She took a step towards him, her face now standing inches from his chest. "You didn't do anything! Dobby saved us, and in the end he was murdered because of it. You did nothing but stand there and watch your aunt torture me!" She dropped her cloak to the ground, showing the scars she had from that night. "Bring back memories, _Draco_." She practically spat his first name.

"Yeah?!" He ripped his cloak behind him, glaring at Hermione as he pulled his sleeve up revealing his dark mark that had been a dark reminder of his past. "You have the audacity to scream at me for doing what I had to in order to survive?" The snake was still slithering darkly against his pale skin while he squeezed his fist out of anger. "You weren't the only one who has skeletons in their closet, Granger."

"You think I don't that? You think I don't know you only did what you had to do in order to survive? Harry said it himself; you never would have killed Dumbledore. It's the same reason nobody would believe that you could kill me. You're not capable of murder."

"You and Potter weren't thinking that when you two were stalking me for an entire school year. And for the record, you don't know _what_ I'm capable of Granger."

"Yes I do. I know you more than you think I do. And just so you're aware for the future, Harry was the only one stalking you. He kept telling me you were a death eater... I didn't believe him."

He stared at her, not sure whether to believe her or not but ran deep in thought about the possibility that she actually did believe in his innocence. After a few more moments in silence and tension falling, Draco blinked twice, and shielded his dark mark under the safety of his clothing, soon clearing his throat. "That detective is wondering where you've gone. It would be in your best interest to go and make up some excuse as to why you suddenly left."

Hermione stared at him, wondering when they're loud argument had turned into her defending the things he had done in his past. Since when did she even stand up for Draco Malfoy? "Right. I'll meet you back at the ministry then."

"I'm not going to argue with you again, Granger." He replied calmly, grasping the clasp of his cloak and locking it back into place. "If you're going there, I'll at least wait for you downstairs or outside or that hotel, whether you like it or not."

She sighed. "Fine. Come. I don't care." She held her hand out for him to take. "But I'm apparating."

He glanced down at her open hand, raising an eyebrow. She may as well had offered him a vial of poison. He instead placed his hand on her shoulder, and drifted his gaze into some other part of the room. "Just apparate already."

She rolled her eyes. "You're so immature." She mumbled, before turning and sending them both into the hotel room of Holmes and Watson.

* * *

"Mate, don't you think you'd better slow it down with the drinks?"

"You and I both know I can handle a little alcohol, Blaise."

That very conversation had happened at the beginning of the party between one Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy after he was getting a little too friendly with the whiskey that continued to fill into his glass.

...He really should have listened. Maybe then he wouldn't be waking up with an pounding headache, completely naked in his bed next to the very person he despised, or so he thought.

"Fuck." Draco moaned, rubbing his forehead and running his fingers into his hair. "How the hell are you going to get out of this one, Draco?"

His mind excavated his fuzzy memory of the night before, trying to grasp the events leading up to this moment.

* * *

Hermione sat at her table by herself, staring down at her drink as she ran her finger tip over the rim of the glass. The table, at one point had been occupied by her fellow coworkers, but all had slowly gotten up and started socializing with the rest of the party. Hermione, however, wasn't in the mood. She had fought with Ron, again, before coming here, and had spent the whole night staring at Draco, watching him, instead of socializing. Not to mention, having more drinks than she could probably handle. She didn't know where her interest for the blonde Slytherin had come from, but she would catch herself making scenarios in her head where they would get into a heated argument that would end in them admitting something they didn't really want the other person to know, which would oddly only strengthen this weird... friendship they were developing. If you could call it that.

"Draco, you really should-"

"Blaise-" Draco chuckled at his best mate, clapping him on the back as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass and then taking a long sip from it. "You really don't need to worry about me. I can handle myself. Hell, I'm not even drunk yet."

Truthfully he didn't seem drunk: He was walking steadily. His speech hadn't been impeded and he was able to carry on decent conversation. If he was drunk, he was hiding it rather well from the rest of the world.

Hermione's eyes looked up just as she watched Draco take a sip of his drink from the other side of the room. Slowly, she got to her feet, chugging the rest of her drink in two gulps. Her red dress hung to her hips, falling down right below her collar bone, and as she took a step, she stumbled from the combination of her high black heels and the alcohol. She had the sudden urge to want to speak to her 'partner', but couldn't decide why. He was getting into her head. Ever since their argument the other day after discovering that she was the next victim, she felt the need to unlock more of his secrets. And she had been meaning to ask Draco if any new information had been brought forward in the last couple hours, and she was tired if sitting alone. So why not ask him now?

Malfoy glanced over at Hermione; her blood red dress sticking out front the sea of black suits surrounding her while she sat at her table..alone. '_Where were Potter and Weasel? Weren't they always trailing behind her like lost mutts?'_

"Draco?"

"Huh?" Blaise had snapped him out of his stare with a gentle shake of his shoulder.

"Malfoy, are you even listening to me?" Blaise scoffed, blocking Draco's beeline view of Hermione and replacing it with a scowl.

"Yeah. Of course, mate." He nodded. Why was the room suddenly shaking softly?

"Mate, you alright?"

"Of course I'm alright Blaise." He sighed, "I just forgot some paperwork in my office that I needed to file." His head was starting to spin now. The alcohol was now slowly taking over his body and he needed to get out of sight before someone saw him. The last thing he needed was to be a headline in the prophet and be made a mockery of.

"Draco-"

"I'm going back to my office. If anyone asks, I just went home."

Hermione stopped walking when she saw him slowly leave the room. She blinked a couple times, fighting back the dizzy feeling as she started quickly walking after him.


End file.

Harry Potter, Sherlock, Mystery, Romance