Disclaimer: JKR owns anything that is obviously hers. I own the rest. I do not make any money off this.
Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Others
Genres: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Humour, Romance, Smut
Story Warnings: Epilogue? What Epilogue?, Mild Kink, Mild Violence, Polyjuice (Body Switch), Profanity, Psychological Trauma, Smut, Threesome
Warning Note: I do not warn per chapter. What I warn for may be in chapter 1 or chapter 39 and they may or may not be what you expect them to be. If you have a very specific trigger, you can PM me for details pertaining to that specific thing, otherwise tough luck, cookie.
Overall Rating: NC-17
Summary: Through a series of uncontrollable events and deliberate decisions, Draco and Hermione are now, a little more than a decade after the war, both working as Aurors. Draco is a complete git and the only one who'll pair up with him for anything is Hermione. This is suiting her less and less, though, so she tries to open his eyes to all the things that have changed. An open-eyed Draco, however, is a force to be reckoned with.
Extra Note: Thank you to margotlefaye, dollfaced and mazvn for the beta and robs55 for the Britpick. You guys rock! You saved this story. :D
Chapter Length: 5,531
Hermione yawned as she made her way to her cubicle. Maybe it would be a slow day and she could take a nap. She missed naps. There should be more naps in the world. She never truly appreciated naps when she was younger, but these days she just couldn't pull an all-nighter like she used to.
Harry appeared in the doorway to his office. The lucky bugger. She wanted to be Head of Office too so that she could have her own office. It would make for nice, uninterrupted naps.
'Hermione?' he asked.
She sighed. No nap. Being an Auror was almost like work.
She entered Harry's office and saw that Malfoy was already seated there. 'Pairing mission?' she asked with an involuntary wrinkle of her nose. 'Stay in or go out?' She hoped they weren't going anywhere. Being off alone with Malfoy too often could be rather taxing. She could do no more than one short mission like that per month without going bonkers, and she'd already done her due for the next six months if she was adding up correctly.
'Sort of, and out,' Harry said, sitting down behind his desk. 'We need you to do surveillance.' They both immediately objected and Harry frowned at them. 'Somebody has to do it!'
'You don't understand,' Hermione said, 'he... chews things.'
'Those things are called food, Granger.'
'Yes, but you chew them loudly and it drives me mad! It's just chew, chew, chew...'
'She, on the other hand, keeps organising everything.'
'Oh, yes, organisation is so very bad.'
'After the first fifteen times you sort the notes, I'm fairly sure they should be in order!'
'New plan!' Harry snapped. 'Smith and Hawkes do the surveillance.'
Both Hermione and Malfoy drew a relieved breath.
'Hermione, I appreciate your... willingness... and your... flexibility... in accepting assignments involving Malfoy,' Harry then began, glancing at Malfoy, who couldn't even be arsed to sneer at this point. He was used to being the pariah of the office, but it was his own damn doing, so he must actually prefer it this way. Of course he would prefer it this way; this way was annoying.
'It's not a problem, Harry,' she said, taking pleasure in the way Malfoy scowled at her smugness. They really did bring out the worst in each other.
'But the fact of the matter is that your bickering has become too much. Your reports are always chock-full of "he said-she said" regarding perfectly irrelevant things. It's exhausting to sort through.'
'Are you calling us unprofessional?' Malfoy calmly asked whilst Hermione just gaped.
'I am saying that I am not your referee. You're grown people, and I get enough of this from my children. Things would be vastly better and easier around here if you two could get along, so I have another task for you. Some strange activity has been reported in a forest area in Scotland, and we need to figure out whether it's anything to worry about. You will go there, and I suggest you work out your differences whilst looking into it.'
Malfoy raised an eyebrow. 'And by suggest you mean—?'
'So, what?' Hermione asked, frowning. 'You expect us to sit down and talk and never annoy each other again?'
'I expect you to be adults,' Harry replied. 'There's a Muggle-style cabin at the forest's edge, which you will utilise for the duration. I'd appreciate it if you'd leave today. Oh, and only use magic if you absolutely have to.'
'Doesn't that sound cosy,' Malfoy muttered.
'Look, Harry,' Hermione slowly said, leaning forward. 'The fact of the matter is that Malfoy and I have been isolated together in various cottages and much smaller places for weeks at a time before, and it never made things any better. I don't think it'll help.'
'It has to help,' Harry calmly replied. 'Or I'll fire both of you.'
Draco dropped his holdall to the floor of the cabin and looked around, feeling anything but optimistic. Granger and he never got along when there were things like dishes, laundry and cleaning that had to be taken care of. Not even that time they'd been undercover as a married couple for three months. They each had their own ideas of how to do things, and they'd just never managed to mesh them.
'Do you really think he'll fire us?' he asked, stepping over the holdall, knowing that leaving it there would annoy Granger, but not caring. Or rather, he cared. He hoped it would annoy her, because that was just about the best entertainment he was ever going to get out here.
'No, I don't,' she replied, appearing from investigating the kitchen area. 'At least not me.'
'Oh, you're sure of that, are you?' Draco asked, scowling, and then he stopped to stare at what appeared to be a stuffed animal head of some kind. Good grief. And he had to live here?
'Well, yes.' Granger said after a mere glance at the vulgar stuffed head. 'I am his long-time friend and a good employee. I am also the godmother to all three of his kids. You, he doesn't care much for, one way or the other.'
'If he fired me, everyone would think that he was only keeping you on because of your friendship. Firing you would set an example.' And he was every bit as good an employee as Granger, but he didn't bother mentioning that. The fact was that he was difficult to pair off and that made him worth less than her, since an Auror that was infinitely tied to the office really couldn't get much work done. It didn't matter how well he handled himself when he was out if he could never get a partner and actually go.
Granger waltzed over to an armchair, sat down and put her chin in her hand. 'Nope. He'll never fire me.'
She was probably right and that annoyed Draco all the more. 'Does this one at least have two bedrooms? You snore.'
Granger drew herself up. 'I most certainly do not!'
'Is that a no, then?' He went in to check what was behind the different doors.
'It's odd, isn't it?' Granger asked thoughtfully.
'How... well we know each other in a way. We should be able to get along.'
Draco snorted. 'Trust me, Granger. You don't know me half as well as you think you do.'
'Oh, please. I've shared a bed with you; I know you talk in your sleep sometimes.'
'You might have shared a bed with me, but you haven't shared a bed with me. That right there is a big difference. And I don't tell you everything, not even in my sleep. Far from it.'
'I know more than you think.'
'Yeah?' he asked, giving up on finding more bedrooms and throwing his holdall onto the bed, before returning to join Granger in the sitting area. 'Am I allergic to anything? Do I have a pet? Which is my favourite Quidditch team?'
'Pffft,' she waved a hand. 'Inconsequential. Although I am very certain you do not have a pet. You're not a pet person.'
'Then do tell me what you know,' he said, sitting down.
'I know that you love sweets more than any grown man should,' she said. 'And I know that you'll claim to favour Pepper Imps, but really you prefer Chocoballs.'
'No, I prefer Pepper Imps.' He actually didn't, but he didn't want her to look so smug. A bloke could prefer chocolate if he wanted to!
'Wrong. You eat at least three times as many Chocoballs when they're available. It's a wonder that you aren't pudgy by now.'
He scowled. He did not eat that many Chocoballs! 'That's because they hardly taste like anything!'
'I bet there's even a bag of them in your holdall.'
'There is not!' There were two bags.
She raised an eyebrow at him. 'Want me to go check?'
'You would just love to get to look through my underwear, wouldn't you? And even if you did know my taste in sweets, that doesn't really say much about me.'
Granger pursed her lips in thought and then shrugged. 'I know that whoever your girlfriend is now, she isn't the same girlfriend you had six months ago.'
That pulled Draco up short. 'What? How?'
'Then simplify it.'
She snorted and waved a hand. 'Fine. With each relationship, your behaviour changes a little to accommodate the witch. Sometimes you will avoid working late, avoid working on weekends, or avoid going away, respectively. Sometimes you're really relaxed in a relationship, and sometimes you're really tense. And sometimes you're just single and stay out far too late in the evenings, presumably looking for a prospect, coming in to work tired and hungover.' She frowned in thought, and then added, 'Oh, and you smell differently from girlfriend to girlfriend.'
'Your scent. It changes. I assume it's because you're too cheap to use your own shampoo, because when we're off like this, you always bring the same kind.'
'I don't know what to think about you watching—' or smelling '—me like that.'
'If it affects your work, it often affects me. It pays for me to know your mood. And, by the way, just settle for one witch already. It must be exhausting to keep doing that dance.'
'Look who's talking,' he said, really annoyed that Granger apparently did know him better than he'd thought. He preferred not to talk to her much about his personal life because it was... well, personal, so it was kind of unnerving that she knew so much about it.
'I'm not you,' she calmly stated.
'No, you're definitely not me. I can't remember the last time I saw anything to indicate that you were even seeing someone!' Score one for Draco! Well, sort of. It was actually a rather lame comeback. Even he had to acknowledge that.
She just pursed her lips dismissively, not at all acknowledging his dig. 'The last time on a case, there wasn't much to indicate it. Remember that small town we went to last month? The wild goose chase?'
He shook his head. No. They'd been together all the time there. 'I'd have known if you saw someone there.'
'Not after you went home. I stayed for a bit.' She smiled as if remembering something pleasant. 'It was fun while it lasted.'
Draco realized he'd been staring and blinked to clear his head. 'I don't believe you.'
Granger yawned. 'Then you, as I expected, don't know me as well as I know you, and that may well be part of the problem.' She got to her feet. 'Maybe you should try to let go of what you think you know and try to notice what's actually going on. I'm not the same person I was in school, none of us are. If you stopped seeing everyone in that same old light and casting yourself as the outsider, then maybe the other people at work would be more willing to give you a chance as well. It's too late to work now, so I'm going to bed. Don't wake me when you finally get around to it.' She sauntered into the bedroom.
Draco blinked. Where the hell had that all come from? He wasn't the one with the problem—everyone else was! He was just trying to live his own life with as little interference as possible. She was just using this whole "get along" thing to spin tales and have fun by messing with his head. It was, after all, one of her favourite pastimes to make him unsure of whether he'd rather be killed than rely on her for support. Although, fine, what she'd just said did sound kind of genuine. But that was the thing with her; she would say things that seemed earnest and insightful, but they were really just designed to make you doubt yourself.
She was very devious that way. He would've appreciated that deviousness if he hadn't been on the receiving end of it for about seven years now.
It didn't matter how he tried to view the War Heroes or how he tried to treat them—nothing would ever change. That much was clear by now.
He heard the muffled sound of his holdall being shoved to the floor.
Hermione snuggled into her cover, trying not to wake for just five more minutes. Mmm. Sleepy-times were the best. Maybe if she didn't open her eyes, she could pretend that she hadn't woken up, and when work didn't get done, it would have been an accident and not at all intentional. She smiled and burrowed a little deeper.
Something was less than perfect, though. There was a weight on her waist, heavy enough to twist her back a little and make it ache. 'Ugh, Malfoy,' she muttered, shoving at the wrist and hand that had landed palm-up on top of her and sitting up to look at him, sprawled on his back with his eyes closed. 'You're doing that thing again!' Discontent to be awake, she picked up her pillow and smashed it down on his head, leaving it there as she got up and padded off towards the bathroom.
'Ungh,' he groaned behind her. 'Why can't you ever wake me without using violence?'
She picked up her toothbrush and went back while brushing. 'Why can't you ever not grope me in my sleep?'
'Don't brush your teeth in here; it's disgusting,' he said without any heat. They had this discussion roughly every morning when they shared sleeping quarters. In fact, they had all these discussions every morning. 'And I didn't grope you. Have you seen the size of this bed? Why won't they ever let us magically alter the furniture of these places?'
Hermione padded out to spit and back to continue arguing. 'Because we're not supposed to use magic.'
'Nobody will see!'
'No. It's the rules, and you'll just have to live with it.'
'Then I guess you'll just have to live with my touch,' he snapped, also getting up and going to the bathroom. When he began brushing his teeth, he stayed there.
Hermione shuffled back out into the small bathroom and shoved at him with her hip and shoulder, so she could spit and rinse her mouth, and she took her sweet time doing it, too.
He didn't even comment. It was par for the course.
After she was done to her own satisfaction, she said, 'You know, you could sleep on the sofa.'
He spat into the sink and scowled at her. 'Did you see the size of that? And I don't fancy getting all kinds of aches and pains just because you're prissy about where my hand ends up when I'm not even conscious. You take the sofa!' He half-turned his back on her, effectively crowding her from the bathroom, and finished his own tooth-brushing.
'I will not take the sofa,' Hermione announced from the narrow hall with her nose up and her arms crossed. 'You will just have to stop molesting me.'
He turned back to face her. 'Believe me, Granger,' he very earnestly said. 'You would be the last person I would molest.' He pushed past her and went back to their bedroom, rummaging for something more clothes-like than the pyjama bottoms he thankfully always wore to bed.
She wore pyjamas whenever they were out as well. Their familiarity had limits, after all.
Suddenly Hermione giggled.
Malfoy stopped mid-motion as he was shuffling through his holdall. 'What?'
'Oh, I just remembered something,' she said, sitting down on the bed and smiling innocently at him. His suspicious glance only made her beam wider.
'What?' he asked again, already sounding resigned.
'Back when Ron and I were still together, he thought you were gay. At first, anyway.'
Malfoy dropped what he was holding and stared at Hermione in a second of unguarded shock. Then he looked back down at his holdall, his cheeks pink, and began rummaging with much more vigor than was needed. 'Why would he think that?' he asked, sounding tense.
Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Homophobia, Malfoy? Really?'
'Just answer the question,' he said sharply.
She shrugged. 'Because you and I would be out for weeks at a time and not the slightest ever happened. It didn't matter if we were sharing a bed, or drunk, or in mortal danger, or—' she frowned slightly '—or all three at once.' She grinned. 'Remember that?'
Malfoy scowled and finally decided on a jumper, T-shirt and trousers. Hermione always enjoyed the look of distaste on Malfoy's face when he was forced to wear Muggle clothes and now wasn't an exception. He wrinkled his nose at the trousers but then looked resigned. 'Your Weasley was biased,' he said, sounding a lot more casual now. 'What wizard about to marry someone wants to believe that other wizards can easily keep their hands off their witch?'
Hermione was too used to Malfoy to be offended. 'That's what I told him. But he still thought you were gay until he met your girlfriend at the time. And even after, he had his doubts.'
Malfoy didn't respond, but simply took his clothes to the bathroom to change.
A wet, cold, grey autumn forest was just the place Draco did not want to be. Ok, maybe the forest wasn't actually grey, but the sky was, and this was a miserable job to do on a miserable day.
'This would be a case of not being able to see the wood for the trees, then?' Granger said, humour in her voice.
'Oh, you're a hoot,' he drily responded. 'So, the suspicious activity was seen to the east, in the heart of the forest, during a full moon?'
'Yeah...' Granger said, wrinkling her nose. 'The reports are really vague, too. It could be some Muggle kids partying or doing one of those things where they think they have magic. Or it could be werewolves. If there's an unregistered pack, we won't want to get near them on our own.'
Draco sighed. 'Muggle kids partying or dog-people... Great!'
Granger frowned in annoyance, but to her credit didn't comment on his slur. 'Some stolen magical artifacts turned up down in the village, so Harry wants us to see if there's a connection. We can go talk to the villagers first, in case it really were just some Muggle kids.'
Draco sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 'Any chance we can go as siblings this time?'
'I told you before—we look nothing alike!'
'Siblings don't have to look alike.'
'And don't you think they'd find it odd that we're siblings living in a rented one-bedroomed cabin?'
'Fine,' Draco grumbled. 'But please lay off the nauseating name-calling.'
'No promises,' she airily said. 'Think we can walk from here?'
'Do we have a choice?' he asked, turning and striding down towards the local village.
'I think they put a couple of Muggle bicycles behind the cabin.' Oh, now she was doing it on purpose!
'No, thank you,' he tersely replied.
'Just because you fell off it last time you tr—'
'I just prefer to walk, ok?' he snapped.
'Hmh.' Granger was mercifully quiet for a short while. 'We should shop for groceries.'
'Anything in particular you think we need?'
'I don't know about you, but I could use some peace and quiet,' he growled. 'How about it, Granger? Five minutes without yammering?'
She softly sighed. 'You know, we're actually supposed to work on getting along better. It's affecting our work. And when Harry is threatening to fire us, I bet it's affecting the whole office.'
He stopped and glared at her. 'We will look at what they have at the store and shop accordingly, ok? You know I can never remember what foods Muggles do and do not have, so it would be rather pointless to discuss it.'
'Fair enough,' she agreed.
As they walked on, Draco kept up a lengthy internal debate with himself. Granger got on his last nerve, she really did, but she also, unfortunately, had a point. They needed to get along. The thing was, he was so used to arguing with her that even when things probably could easily be ignored, he argued... just because. Making casual chit-chat with her was about as foreign a concept to him as moving to this Muggle village and getting a Muggle TV set and a Muggle car. But he needed to do it. They needed to get along.
He frowned. This shouldn't be so difficult. He had known her for almost two decades. 'How are... your parents?'
Granger snorted with laughter and then turned big, amused eyes on him. 'Effort noted,' she half-choked.
His frown deepened with annoyance. 'Fine,' he bit out, giving up on trying. Whatever. It wasn't like Granger hadn't been a nagging bitch since before he even woke up, anyway.
'No, no, it was... nice of you... to ask,' she said, clearly fighting back her amusement. 'It's just so... odd.'
'Isn't that what you wanted?'
She shrugged. 'To be quite frank with you, I'm not at all sure how we'll learn to get along. On the job, we trust each other with our lives, but off the job, we don't even trust each other with our first names.'
'That's not a trust issue.'
'Then what is it?'
'I never really thought about it,' he mused. 'I suppose that at some point we decided that calling each other by our first name would be a friendly thing to do and then we didn't.' Actually, he'd long since decided he wasn't about to let his guards down with any of the War Heroes. Keeping things nice, formal and—above all—impersonal had seemed the way to go.
'Maybe we should.'
'I think it's too late for that,' he said, uneasy at the thought.
He knew he wasn't very popular at work, and he was fine with that; he just wanted to do his own thing. They were his backup in dangerous situations, but they weren't part of his life. They would never understand his life, anyway. They would never understand that to Draco's parents, his being an Auror wasn't something to be proud of; it was a disgrace. They would never understand the different social pressure he was constantly under, and how he was truly only here because it was the only way for him to cope with his past. He wasn't here to make amends or to aspire to become a hero himself. He was here because if someone like him had been here a decade ago—after the war, when he'd needed them—his life could have been so very different today.
'Oh, with that attitude, I'm sure we'll get somewhere fast!' she huffed and then stalked off ahead of him.
The problem was that he'd never wanted to "get" anywhere in the first place. He was fine where he was. The bickering really wasn't that bad, and sometimes it was even amusing. Maybe they could just keep it down at work and everything would be fine.
Yeah, maybe not.
Sighing, he realised that he would have to give up the safety of last names. He supposed it could have been worse. She could have been Potter.
'Fine,' Malfoy said, as if it pained him greatly. 'We'll try the... name... thing.'
'Oh, careful you don't wet yourself with enthusiasm!' Hermione grumbled. Normally she didn't really indulge in tantrums, but Malfoy was an expert in provoking them. It wasn't like it was such a huge deal to use first names. They'd known each other for eighteen years. Eighteen years. Sure, they hadn't really been close, but... she'd just offered him the proverbial olive branch and he'd been childish about it, and now she felt her own hackles rising.
'How typically female. I give you what you want, but now you don't want it? Let me guess, it's because of the way I said it?' Malfoy's voice dripped with sarcasm.
Hermione turned back and walked straight up to Malfoy, shoving a finger in his chest. 'I'll take it, Draco, but don't expect me to spend any more effort on this than you do!' Then she spun around and marched on. What a sexist arse!
The rest of the way to the village was spent in silence. Hermione had had just about all the "polite discourse" she could handle with Ma—Draco. He was so frustrating! He had no problem whatsoever with working with her, eating with her, or sleeping next to her, but using her name? Oh, no! That was too personal. 'I'll give you personal,' she grumbled, shoving open the door to the local grocer's.
Draco came in too closely behind her and she made it a point to step on his foot as hard as she could without letting on that it was on purpose. He grabbed her arm rather too firmly and warningly said, 'Watch where you're going, darling.'
'Sorry, sweetie,' she said, batting her eyes at him, and then turned away from him abruptly enough for her elbow to connect with his side.
His eyes narrowed at her. 'Why don't you find dinner while I chat with this nice man?' he silkily asked.
Hermione looked over at the man behind the counter and then did a double-take. Oh, nice! Who said there were no good things to be found out in the country? The shop assistant was a man with strong, symmetrical features, semi-long thick brown hair and the most startling blue eyes she'd ever seen. 'No,' she absent-mindedly said, while blindly grabbing for Draco's arm so he wouldn't go over there. 'I'll go.' She reached up and self-consciously patted down her hair. The humidity was hell, but hopefully it wasn't too bad.
'What? Why?' Draco asked, sounding like he was frowning. 'We're supposed to be a couple, remember?' The last thing was said so quietly only she could hear.
'Yes, well, we just became a very open-minded couple,' she informed him.
'You've never done this before, why now?' he insisted.
'Think of this as an opportunity to get to know me better,' she said. 'Apart from being a bookworm and your partner, I am also a person. And as a person, I want to have a go at this bloke. Remember to get broccoli from the frozen section.' She patted his cheek without even looking up and sauntered over to the shop assistant.
Broccoli. He didn't like broccoli! Bent on revenge, Draco went over to the frozen section and got a mix of peas and diced carrots instead.
So now they had to solve the cases of the partying Muggles and stolen artifacts whilst learning to get along and getting dates for Gra—Hermione? It was unfair! He didn't get to have any dates here! He ventured a glance at the Muggle man. He was very handsome, indeed. Draco couldn't blame Hermione for at least giving it a shot. Hell, if he'd been her, he would have wanted to give it a shot.
There was a brief bit of laughter from the counter as Hermione's flirtation was successful. So... what now? She expected full use of the bed whilst he was banished to the sofa? Hell, no! That would be unacceptable. He would not endure that sofa even one night!
Irritably, he randomly plucked bread and other goods that it would make sense to need off the shelves. Weren't they supposed to be on a case right now?
'Oh, we have an open relationship,' he heard Hermione tell the Muggle. 'Don't we, dear?' she asked, raising her voice a little and cocking an eyebrow at Draco.
'Yes. Very open,' he replied. Then he smirked, just a little. 'But don't you think it's a good idea to wait until that strange, um, rash of yours clears? Just to be safe?' He knew he was treading on dangerous ground, but if she was going to have her fun, he wanted a little fun of his own.
'There is no rash,' Hermione hurriedly assured the Muggle as he was withdrawing. She shot Draco a murderous glance. 'He just thinks he's being funny.'
'Suit yourself,' Draco said, walking up and dumping all the foodstuffs on the counter. 'Just don't come to me when the itch and burn is driving you insane. I tell you, the last time she passed it on to me, it took months for it to disappear.'
Hermione smiled sweetly at her Muggle. 'What's this shop's policy on murder?'
'Oi, Gr—Hermione, where are you going?' Malfoy yelled after her as she was angrily walking back towards the cabin with the groceries he had so carelessly picked out. There'd better be butter in there. He always forgot the butter. How could anyone live without butter? Also, he was an arse. But what else was new.
She presented him with two of her fingers.
He caught up to her and grabbed her arm. 'There's a tiny tourist shop right over there, I thought we'd—'
She pulled her arm free, barely believing his gall. 'Do what you want, Malfoy,' she hissed. 'I'm going back.' She was much too angry to even attempt to use his first name.
'What?' he asked, actually looking puzzled. 'You're upset that I teased you in front of your pretty Muggle?'
She bared her teeth at him. 'That is not how to get along!' And he hadn't just teased her, he'd humiliated her by insinuating that she was some kind of nasty slapper who'd pick up diseases on a regular basis. She was always safe when she was out and about. Always.
'And this is not how to not let it affect your work performance,' he countered, totally missing her point.
'Fuck you, Malfoy,' she viciously said. This was just so typical! She should have known he would be like this. 'Do you know how easily I could probably have got everything we needed to know? Or at least have found out who we needed to talk to? It would have hardly even been like work. Now you do it.'
He snorted. 'You're going to sleep with people for information now?'
She just raised an eyebrow at him and took up walking again.
'You've done it before?' he asked her back. 'You're lying. I would have known that.'
'You just keep telling yourself that,' she called back to him. She was really much too irritated to explain that something could be business and pleasure all at once. She just didn't see anything wrong with getting some bonus information when she went out with someone. She didn't mislead them and she didn't use the information to hurt them, so her conscience was clear.
But, of course, she'd always hid it from Malfoy because she hadn't wanted to offend his conservative sensibilities. Well, screw that. She could probably have got everything she needed for this ridiculous case and then he had to go and humiliate her with talk of mysterious rashes that she would indiscriminately spread around.
He seemed to remember to move and caught up with her. 'Does Potter know what a stellar employee he has, whoring herself out so—' He had to quickly deflect a bag of groceries as they were thrown at his head. Lamentably, however, toast and eggs weren't designed to kill when aimed at someone's head.
Hermione was so angry she was shaking with it. 'Just because I'm female and I have sex without expectations of a happily ever after does not mean I'm a whore! So what if I could have gotten something useful from something pleasurable? I would have had my fun and I would have done my job and everyone would have won. Now look at where we are. I'm through trying to get along with you until you get that. Have fun getting fired!'
He crossed his arms. 'Nice little lecture you have there. You have to give it often? Maybe to your mirror?'
She'd really prefer never to see his hateful, prejudiced excuse for a face ever again. She sneered at him. 'Leave and I'll finish the investigation by myself. I certainly don't need you for it. You're just in the way.'
'In the way of your job or in the way of your love life?'
'If you had such a big issue with this, you could have told me so in a less offensive manner! Don't worry, I will write a report to Harry about why nothing is being done!'
Furthermore, she'd also tell any witch she came across who might fancy Draco that in his opinion, witches that had sex for fun were whores, so they'd better stay clear of his bed.
Oh, yes. That sounded like a fun endeavour. The very idea cheered her enough that she was able to refrain from trying to end his life right now. Besides, he hadn't had the forethought to buy anything blunt and heavy.
Leaving Draco with groceries littered on the ground, Hermione stalked off to the cabin.