Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places used in this story.

A/N:

Chapter Warnings: Sexual content.

Chapter Three

Hermione chewed her bottom lip as her eyes scanned the reports in front of her. She had gotten no closer to finding out who was responsible for the attack on Malfoy and his father, and the headache that pounded behind her eyes was one that she knew would be around for hours now. She rubbed her temple and drummed her fingers on the wooden desk as she tried to think of how to approach the whole thing. She didn't even know where to start looking for answers.

A knock at her office door caused her to look up, meeting the gaze of her assistant. "Sorry to disturb you Miss Granger." Verbena said softly, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "There's a Mr Zabini here to see you?" She told Hermione.

The brunette frowned in confusion, but nodded to her assistant to allow Zabini in. She watched him cautiously as he entered and Verbena left them, closing the door behind her. Hermione kept her gaze on Blaise as she tried to judge his intentions. She didn't know him well enough to read him, all she really knew was that he shared in the misguided hatred of Muggle-borns.

"Mr Zabini." Hermione greeted him with a nod. "How can I help you?

"It was Greyback." Blaise informed her, his gaze trailing around the room, causing her to frown at him. He met her confused look and flashed her with a look of contempt. "It was Greyback that killed Draco's dad." He stated, as if it was common knowledge.

"How can you be certain?" Hermione asked him, grabbing her quill to make notes of it regardless. Perhaps he had reliable information for her.

"I can be sure because Draco told me so. Fool." Blaise muttered, looking at her distastefully. "How about you use that information to do your job correctly."

"Excuse me?" Hermione snapped, looking up at him with a scowl. "I can assure you that I am doing my utmost to find Greyback. Just because I don't have him yet does not mean that I am not doing my job. He isn't just walking about shouting for me to find him, and he doesn't leave any alive victims behind. Malfoy is the first since Fenrir broke out of Azkaban so how about you talk your friend into talking to me or the Aurors about what he knows!" She forced her voice to stay calm, but she knew that she didn't do a great job. Blaise just raised an eyebrow and watched her with disinterest.

"Draco is a wreck! He attacked me today because I tried to protect my girlfriend from him. We found him curled up on his bathroom floor! How many more people have to die because you're unable to do your job?" Blaise snapped at her, narrowing his dark gaze and instantly Hermione was on her feet, slamming her palms against the wood of her desk and glowering at him.

"How dare you!" She shouted, "It has nothing to do with me how Draco is coping, and while they both have my sympathies, it has nothing to do with me. Now, Mr Zabini, if you have nothing else to tell me, I ask that you leave so I can get on with my job." She said, sitting down and ignoring Blaise's muttered insult as he left.

Sighing and rubbing her temples to try and rid herself of the headache growing behind her eyes. She felt the guilt clutching at her too and she found herself wondering just how bad Draco was.

.:.:.:.

Narcissa rested her head against her son's door. She had come to check on him when she heard shouting and an explosion, but when she'd tried to open the door it wouldn't budge and she knew that he'd put a locking charm on it. She had heard him mutter a silencing charm and since there had been no sound from her only child. She knew how Draco worked, and she knew that his anger would only last for so long, and then the grief would kick in. She had lost Lucius and that was an ache that just wouldn't leave her alone even for a moment of peace, but she didn't want to lose her child too. She couldn't. Not her Draco.

She knew that she could force her way into his room, but she also knew that he needed some time on his own. It broke her heart to leave him when he was so clearly suffering, but she knew that in his anger he wouldn't allow any comfort. Narcissa knew that her son felt guilty, and the thought of Draco in there thinking that this was his fault ruined her. Blinking back tears, Narcissa spread her palm against the solid oak door, but she turned and left her only child to give into his rage.

.:.:.:.

The funeral was held on a Saturday a week later. It was a quiet ceremony within the grounds of the Malfoy's estate. Draco had finally surfaced from his room, clean shaven for the funeral, but he looked awful regardless. Narcissa took in her son's appearance and knew that her own appearance wasn't too much better. Narcissa knew that her own face was thinner, and that the dark circles beneath her bloodshot eyes were a mirror image of the eyes that watched the path beneath their feet.

Draco's skin was an awful grey colour, and his eyes – despite being bloodshot and shadowed by dark circles – were empty looking. It was as if someone had carved him from stone, given him a sickly, tormented look to his face, but were ultimately unable to force any emotion into the statue. With a sad smile, Narcissa took her son's hand, glad when he allowed the action. His suit was perfectly tailored, one he'd gotten for his father's trail all those years ago. It was perfectly tailored to him, but he still looked thinner in it, and Narcissa knew that her son had barely eaten since the news of Lucius had been given to them.

Narcissa had agreed to allow her friend Rita Seeker bring a small selection of press to the ceremony, but she refused to look at the cameras, and Draco barely even noticed them. Narcissa and her son stopped by the grave, magically pre-dug, and their small gathering met them. Family friends mostly, a couple from the ministry and Blaise and Pansy. Narcissa noted that Draco didn't even acknowledge them and that Blaise flashed her son with a wary look, while Pansy looked slightly frightened and deeply concerned.

Draco didn't react to the burial except for tightening his grip on his mother's hand slightly as the coffin magically lowered itself into the ground. Narcissa choked back on a sob and she felt Draco turn to her. He pulled her into him, his surprisingly strong arms slipped around her back, rubbing soothing circles at the base of her neck as she cried, but still Draco didn't flinch.

Back inside after the burial, Narcissa accepted a firewhiskey that one of the sombre house-elves brought her. She was surrounded by well-wishers and sympathisers but her eyes sought her son. Blaise and Pansy weren't sitting with her son, but they weren't far. Draco sat on his own and Narcissa watched sadly as he took a drink from a half empty bottle of firewhiskey. She almost stood to move to him when Blaise beat her too it.

Narcissa watched as Draco's schoolmate tried to get through to him, and her gaze flitted to the sad and worried girl that Blaise had left at the next table but a crash caught her attention. The smash of a launched bottle came next and Draco was on his feet, pushing past his friend as he stormed out of the room. She followed him, her small, elegant heels tapping against the hard wood floors as she chased him. She caught his arm just as he moved into his room and she paused, her horrified eyes wide as she took in the state of the place. His desk, fireplace and dressers were lying in splintered, broken heaps and there were scorch marks littering the carpet and walls.

"Draco?" She questioned, her eyes meeting her son's and the look he gave her caused her to become undone. He was lost, her little boy was completely broken and the look he gave her was desperate. He was tormented, tortured and broken and there was nothing that she could do to help him.

"Its my fault." His voice was soft as he dropped his gaze just after she saw the tears in them. "I left him. He's gone because of me."

"Draco..." Narcissa's words were cut short as her son pulled away from her violently, stumbling a few further steps into his room. She reached for him just as he disapparated and she was left staring at the empty, ruined bedroom with her own tears stinging her eyes.

.:.:.:.

He didn't know if it was all in his mind or not, but he could still feel the dark magic that almost seemed to drip from the walls. He didn't know why he came here, but he needed out of that house. He needed away from all the bastards that wanted to let him know how sorry they were. His father was dead, he didn't give a shit how they felt. They were insignificant. Why the hell did they matter? Why should he care about a friend from work that his dad spoke to twice. Draco scanned the cave with empty eyes. There was no evidence of what had happened here, the Aurors had wiped all evidence of it clean and that somehow soothed his aches and made them a thousand times worse all at once. On one hand, he didn't need to see the horror of that night again and that was a silent relief, but there was no sign that anything had happened here, and that was painfully dismissive of the trauma he and his family had suffered.

He didn't understand it. He couldn't reason why they had attacked. Fenrir was once an ally. They had all once been allies and it hurt Draco's head to try and figure out what had changed. He had played with all the thoughts that had plagued him, but nothing had clicked. None of it had made sense. But then it was all just so obvious. The thing that had changed had been them. The Malfoys. Draco scowled with the realisation. His father had been killed, torn apart, because they had changed sides.

.:.:.:.

Hermione sighed as she sunk into the bath a little more. The water was hot and soothing and her eyelids fluttered closed as she slowly relaxed. She slipped under the water, holding her breath as she scrubbed her fingers through her hair to wash out the conditioner. A tapping at her bedroom window caught her attention as she resurfaced and Hermione climbed out of the bath, allowing the water to drain away. She slipped into her bath robe and moved into her bedroom as she tied the robe closed. Her top floor apartment was small and simple, but she had always loved the view she got of London's rooftops from her window.

Her owl was sitting at the window and she moved to let it in, taking the newspaper and the letter from the bird as she dropped to sit on the end of her bed. Her eyes fell on the paper first, reading the headline and her stomach dropped at the photo underneath it. Narcissa's face was buried into the crook of Draco's neck, but it was the distant tortured look to him that made her breath catch in her throat. She put the paper on her lap as she opened the letter from Ginny, her eyes taking in the simple message asking if she wanted to meet for lunch. She scribbled a quick reply of how she would love to, and she'd meet her in Piccadilly Circus at one.

As Hermione's owl flew away to deliver her reply to her friend, Hermione turned back to the paper, her gaze lingering on the few photos of Malfoy. She had never seen someone look so bad, and she felt that guilt again. Could she have gotten to Lucius faster? Could they have saved him? The pictures of Narcissa and her son were heartbreaking, they both looked so broken in two very different ways. It still unnerved her how he had been at first, on his knees in the ministry covered in a mix of his and his father's blood, pleading with her to help.

He had shook in her arms and she had been terrified for him. He'd barely made any sense, and she had struggled to make sense of her own thoughts and the smell of blood that clung to his pale, clammy skin was so clear, so invasive. Hermione ran a hand through her hair with a small sigh. She wanted to help him, she needed to help him. She had never seen Draco Malfoy so broken; so human. His normal façade of arrogant indifference had fallen apart and left him a frantic young adult pleading for his father's life as his own blood seeped out of his body. He wasn't her old school bully then, in that moment he was a victim of a horrendous crime.

With another sigh, Hermione put the paper on the bed and grabbed her wand, drying her hair and drawing the curtains as she slipped off her bath robe and got dressed. She would worry about the case tomorrow, for now she would meet her friend for lunch and force herself to relax. Hermione grabbed her bag and slipped her wand into it, along with her purse and keys. She gave Crookshanks a pet as she passed him and headed out. She was a little early so Hermione headed to the nearest tube station to get the underground to Piccadilly Circus.

Hermione sat by the statue of Eros, content as she watched the people walking past while she waited for her friend to meet her. She adored the sculpture, and the beauty of the representation of the god of love that towered above her head. Hermione loved living in London; with how busy it was and yet how she go still go unnoticed. She was only waiting for ten minutes, during which she watched a small group of street performers, until Ginny showed up.

The pretty redhead fought her way through the crowd as Hermione stood up. They shared a short hug and following a brief discussion they decided to eat at The Mockingbird. It was a bar that was only a few streets from where they were standing beneath the statue of Eros. Fighting their way through the busy street, the two girls moved into a narrow side street and headed down it, stopping by the wall after the second window. Ginny retrieved her wand from her pocket before proceeding to trace a simplistic outline of a mockingbird on the bricks.

A door appeared in the bricks, allowing them to enter into a narrow corridor before walking through an open door into a wide room. They proceeded beneath a wooden arch covered with climbing ivy as they were taken to a booth. Charmed paper mockingbirds perched on the canopy above their heads, singing softly with the other charmed birds that fluttered above them.

Hermione still struggled with how fast service was in the wizarding world, but she wasn't complaining as her pasta appeared in front of her. It smelt delicious and she realised how hungry she really was now. She had just taken a bit of her meal when Ginny spoke up again.

"Hermione, how are you?" The redhead asked, catching her friend's confused look. "Oh come on, Harry tells me everything. He mentioned how upset you looked at what that tosser said to you."

"He was partly right though, Gin." Hermione said simply, sighing as she took a sip of her butterbeer. "I haven't done my job as well as I should have. I should have caught Greyback by now. He broke out of Azkaban months ago now, and yes, I don't know for certain that he's done anything, but he's a psychotic, dangerous werewolf at the end of the day." Hermione said, taking another bit as her friend swallowed her own mouthful and gave her a sad smile.

"Oh Hermione." Ginny said softly, shaking her head. "For being so smart, you can be such a fool sometimes. You can't just snap your fingers and have the bad guys taken care of. What Malfoy said was out of order, and you know it. You're fantastic at your job, he was just angry."

"I think he has every right to be angry, Ginny." Hermione said softly, looking down at her food. She didn't know why it had hurt her so much. Malfoy had said and done some awful things to her, but that had really hurt, but then she might have been upset by how devastated he looked as well as at his words. "Regardless, I'm fine, and I would rather not talk about the case just now. How have you been? Is Harry driving you mad yet, I know how he gets when he has some killer to find."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it, Hermione. He's a total nightmare. I've had to start slipping him sleeping draught just to get him to stop for a break." Ginny groaned, and Hermione laughed, letting herself forget about the case for an afternoon. She relaxed in Ginny's company and after a lovely meal and a few drinks, Hermione headed home. She planned on getting an early night so that she was fully rested for work the next day, but her dreams didn't all her a peaceful sleep.

His lips were at her neck, sucking and nibbling at tender, olive skin and she parted her lips around a small moan. Her eyelids closed as she gripped his shoulder tightly when he brushed a hand across her stomach. His other hand was in her hair, tugging on it lightly to keep her head bent back as he marked her neck in his passion as his second hand travelled up her shirtless body to trace over her bra-covered breasts.

Kissing down her body, Hermione whined softly, opening her eyes to watch as his lips and tongue moved down her body. He tugged her bra cup down, exposing her breast as his lips instantly sought her nipple. Moaning when he sucked it into his mouth, teasing it painfully slowly with his tongue, Hermione gasped and then dragged her nails down his bare back. Merlin, she needed him now! Her hand moved around his hip and dipped between his thighs, his hand mirroring her actions as his fingers explored her body.

His lips were gone and without warning her legs were wrapped around his hips. Her hand stroked his length but she paused when his fingers slipped inside her, his thumb rubbing circles over her clit and drawing another moan from her as he slammed her back up against the wall. She felt his fingers leave her as he lined himself up against her and she squirmed eagerly. His smirk turned her on and the intense look in his eyes sent shivers running through her spine.

"Draco, please." Hermione moaned, her nails digging into flesh as he moved, pinning her to the wall and biting her neck again

On the Monday morning, Hermione woke up from her dream in a sweat, her heart racing and unmistakably aroused. She let out a sigh and groaned into her hands. What the hell had that been about? She couldn't have dreams like that about Draco Malfoy. The man had tormented her throughout school. He'd wished her harm, his aunt had tortured her, she couldn't be having sex dreams about him.

After a quick shower and a spell to dry her hair into calm loose curls, Hermione then chose to tie her hair up - letting her curls hang from her ponytail down her back - and dressed in a grey pencil dress and small, sensible heeled boots. She fed Crookshanks and grabbed her bag and wand before she Flooed to the ministry and headed to her office. She paused for a brief moment by the fireplace where Draco had collapsed against her and felt the blush heating up her cheeks as she turned and hurried off, memories of her dream fresh in her mind.

"Good morning Miss Granger." Verbena greeted her cheerily, handing her a coffee with a smile.

"Morning Verbena. Thank you, and honestly, you can call me Hermione." The brunette said with a kind smile as she headed into her room. Could you please message me straight away if Harry finds anything out about the case." She said back to her assistant before closing the door behind her.

"I know something about the case." Turning to face her desk and the voice, Hermione jumped in fright, almost spilling the coffee down her, the hot liquid sloshing out and burning her hand but missing her dress thankfully. Her eyes went wide as she took in the sight in front of her and her thoughts danced back to her dream.

"Malfoy?" Hermione said, staring at him with her brow furrowed. "Why are..." Draco met her gaze and the look in his eyes made her words die on her tongue. His grey eyes were fierce and angry, but there was desire in them that forced flashbacks of her dream into her mind but she couldn't look away.

"I'll help you.