Disclaimer: All rights to the Harry Potter characters, world, and creation belong to J.K Rowling. I'm just adding my own spin to it.

Thanks to my beta lozipozivanillabean! Rated for mild swearing, lots of drama, mystery and the like.

My 2013 entry into the Interhouse-Fest on Livejournal. Two-part.

Summary: When some undesired toys hit the market, Draco loses his cool as his cool when he finds out he's being portrayed as a Death Eater from during the war. To track down the maker he enlists Hermione's help, but they never suspected the real culprit…

Also written for the Organization Boot Camp prompt #44 (home), the If You Dare Challenge prompt #517 (mystery- prewritten) the Fantastic Beasts Challenge prompt #76 (sphinx) and the Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge part 8 number 2.

Close to Home Mysteries, part 1

Sleek, stylish and completely insulting; that's how Hermione saw the figurines. While some stood flattered that they had been turned into a toy, she crossed her arms tightly and turned her nose up to every single one. Her daughter on the other hand was head over heels in love with Britain's newest best-seller.

"Mum, can we please buy just one? I want one of you and dad-"

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head. "Those things are awful Rose! They should never have made the toys. Most of those people died honourably in the war. Shrinking their heroics down into the insulting figure of popular plastic toys that move is a crime! Come on, we're not standing here for another moment."

"But mum."

"I said no," she repeated, grabbing the girl's hand. They pushed through the crowd around the shop window, Hermione holding her head up high as she pressed through a large collection of people who wanted nothing more than to stare at her. People were quite tedious at times.

Fifteen years. That's how long it had been since the Battle of Hogwarts. Warriors from that time still had old scars, marks across their skin and burns in their memory of treachery and loss that would forever linger with them. Children, like Rose, couldn't understand the hardships their parents went through, but she refused to let her daughter play with memorabilia trinkets. The creator was still unknown, and whilst the toys had been rather harmless thus far she wouldn't let Rose touch them. She felt like it was dishonouring her fallen friends in a way.

Maybe that was a bit silly, but she didn't care. Her husband, Ron, had ill-feelings about the toys as well. It stemmed from the creator of the Fred-and-George toys that hit the market months ago, selling like wildfire. None of the Weasley's took that too well.

Yes, the toys were modelled after people. Death Eaters and Order members alike had been transferred into a small version of themselves, and the toys were incredibly marketable. The Order members each had a tiny little patronus figure by their side, and each Death Eater came equipped with an individual mask and cape set. Even dear old Voldemort had a tiny pet snake as a companion. The toys could fly and dual together, in some ways re-creating the battle that took place in her youth. Rose couldn't possibly understand why they bothered her mother so much.

Her children were a bit younger than some of her friends. After the war they all had to wait some years before finally marrying their chosen other, settling down and starting the families they once dreamed about. When Hermione married Ron and became Hermione Granger-Weasley, she knew she was in for a bumpy ride. Ron was still torn apart by his brother's death and the gap it left in the Weasley family. Granted, Ginny was just as moody and unhappy, but at least she tried moving on. Ron wallowed in his pain.

And he still did. There wasn't a day that went by when Hermione didn't register the depression in his eyes. It hurt her heart, but she didn't know what to do. She simply didn't know how to help the love of her life.

Rose and Hugo came along almost three years after they had married- when they were twenty-one. At the age of twenty-four Hermione had their daughter Rose, who was now only eleven years old. In the fall she would start her first year at Hogwarts. Hugo was four years younger still, and Hermione didn't have him until she was twenty-eight. He was now seven, and recently had a birthday. They ended up having their children later than she had planned, but it couldn't be helped these days. It was hard to find Ron in good spirits anymore.

"Why do you hate the toys so much mum?" Rose asked as they walked through Diagon Alley. "A lot of my friends have them, and their parents don't complain."

"You're cousins don't have them," she remarked, thinking about Harry and Ginny's children. "Actually, I don't think I know any of your friends who have them."

Rose blushed. "Some of them do, but not the people in your circle."

"Oh, I see. And who are these people honey?"

She shrugged. "Friends outside of your friends. A lot of people aren't upset with these toys like you are."

"A lot of people aren't the models for the figurines either, Rose."

"But that's what makes it so cool! I could have miniature toys of my parents, uncles, aunts and relatives! And yet I'm not allowed to even have one."

"It's not that simple Rose," she remarked dryly, shifting through the throng of people. "We've been over this. You will not have any of those toys."

"But it's in the past mum! They're harmless!"

"Rose, enough," she snapped, turning to look at her daughter. "We've discussed this before, and you already know that the answer is going to be no, no matter how much you fight me. Now please, drop this. You don't want to upset your father."

Her eyes fell, staring at the ground. "He wouldn't talk to me earlier."

Hermione sighed, patting her daughters shoulder. "I know. Today's one of his worse days. I'm going to move him back to our room when we get home. You'll go play with Hugo while I do that, right?"

The child nodded, though she'd begun to tug on her hair. "Why is daddy always so sad?"

"It's a long story honey."

"Will you tell me about it?"

She shook her head. "Not today. Some other time maybe, when you're older. Now, it's absolutely bitter outside. Let's get home."

"Okay," Rose relented, walking to the nearby floo. She would go through first, as always. Her mother made it a habit to send her through first, completely unwilling to leave her alone in Diagon Alley. She was reaching for the complementary floo powder when she decided to look around, taking in the fall atmosphere before leaving. While glancing around, she froze.

He stood there staring back at her, curious eyes looking into her own. Her hand tightened on the powder, wondering how long he'd been standing there. Nosy, intuitive and insightful, he could've heard anything she had to say. And Hermione really wanted to keep Ron's condition on the down-low. There was a reason he didn't go to work anymore after all.

Instead of coming over to bother her, the blonde sent her a quick nod and continued on his way. Briefly, she couldn't imagine why Malfoy would pass up a chance to bother her, until she saw the hand dragging him along and the bobbing blonde head of his son, Scorpius. The boy was a year or two older than her daughter, but Hermione wasn't sure which.

She shook her head, stepping into the floo. She saw Malfoy on rare occasions during her outings, passing through places like a regular human being. Sometimes it unsettled her, but she wouldn't worry about that now. He probably just saw her standing there and had to contemplate whether or not to be a pain. Thankfully, he didn't come over to bother her today.

Dropping the floo powder and calling out her destination, she closed her eyes. She would need a level mind to get through the rest of the night.

Seeing Malfoy a few days later really wasn't something Hermione looked forward to when she found him waiting outside her office after a conference. He drew a lot of attention standing there in his fine robes, in front of her office of all places, and people were likely eavesdropping when he requested to speak to her inside her office. To avoid being listened in on, she agreed.

The proposal he offered up once inside wasn't something she expected at all.

"You do realise I'm going to have to take time off work, right?" She crossed her arms, eyeing him from the other side of her desk. He looked way too confident in his proposal.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, I'm going to pay you!"

"Yes, but this is going to get me a bad rep with my boss-"

"Granger, tell him you're solving a mystery. He might actually believe you."

"Or fire me."

"I doubt that."

"I don't. This division is quite picky-"

"And you're quite well known. He's not just going to drop you. Besides, you work in the bloody law division of the Ministry. Now will you help me or not?"

"Why should I?"

"Because you want to know who it is just as bad as I do. And I'm the only way you can afford to go snooping around."

She glared his way, tapping her foot on the ground. He actually had the balls to come to her office while she was working to offer up his little proposal. She thought he was barking mad.

"That might be true, Malfoy, but that doesn't mean I can just go snooping around for no apparent reason. Everyone wants to know who the creator is! But that doesn't mean that people are taking time off work all over the place to do some investigating either. What exactly is so important that you think you have to drag me along?"

"I worked hard to clear my name," the blonde spat, getting in her face. "It took a long time to rebuild any sort of good reputation in Britain, and I won't have it tarnished by a shitty toy somebody is making and distributing. I'm not a Death Eater anymore, and being publicised as one is reminding people of my past. It's something I worked hard to leave behind Granger. I will not fall back into the role of the bad guy again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The toys are based off the war you know. Of course you'll be depicted as a Death Eater."

"That's not the point; these toys are based off of us. No one asked for our permission to create such figurines. It's technically illegal."

"I'm aware of that," she snapped, crossing her arms. "I forbid my daughter from getting any of them. They're offensive."

The blonde smirked. "So does that mean you're in?"

"Begrudgingly, yes."

"Fantastic! Shall we start brainstorming, oh say, now?"

She rolled her eyes, beckoning to the door. "I'm still on the clock, so the answer is no. I'll owl you when I have some time."

Walking to the door, he shook his head. "Typical Granger, always having to do things on her time."

"I heard that!" But it was too late, for Draco Malfoy had already walked out of the door. And now Hermione was supposedly in on an agreement to figure out the creator of those toys? She couldn't imagine telling a soul about this. They would think she was absolutely crazy.

At first, agreeing to work with Malfoy seemed like a truly bizarre idea. They were childhood enemies after all, standing on opposite sides of the war. The only reason she bothered testifying at his trial on his behalf was because he didn't sell them out when they were captured and brought to the Manor. There had to be some sort of good in him if he didn't sell them out to his blasted leader.

But that was years ago. Presently they were hanging out late one night, sitting in the alleyway towards the back of the single store that sold the toys. They didn't think that the owner made them, mostly because he always seemed so awed by their very appearance.

There was a pattern with the toys. They'd been on the market for six months now, with a new toy appearing every one to two weeks. This night would mark the last day of a two week period before there should be a new toy around. And since the culprit didn't seem to have any fears of being caught after so long, they were betting that they might hand deliver the items or even speak to the shop owner personally.

It had only been two weeks since their agreement began, and a lot of work went into planning this night. Hermione couldn't fathom how excited she was about all of this. It was like being a little kid again, snooping around and doing all of her investigating with Harry and Ron; absolutely thrilling.

Now though, it was Malfoy who happened to be the one she was investigating with. It was quite the change, but not all together a bad one. He had a good head on his shoulders surprisingly enough, and they actually had a fairly good idea as to what they were doing.

"When do you think the delivery is done?" she asked, rubbing her hands together after nearly an hour of sitting around. They guessed that the delivery was made when Diagon Alley was mostly shut down for the night, and didn't go out until nearly eleven. Hermione's husband and both her children were a bit curious about that. She told them that it was for work- and it was- in a way.

"I don't know, but it's fucking cold out here."

"Agreed," she said, casting yet another warming spell. "I can hardly feel my fingers."

"Well, you'll do a lot of good if we actually spot this person, won't you?" he replied with a roll of his eyes. She jabbed him with her wand in response.

"So who are you thinking of as potential people?" he asked a few minutes later when they still saw no one. Though they kept their voices low they wanted to stay alert, fixing their eyes constantly on the back doorway of the building.

Hermione shrugged, hugging herself. "We've already made a list."

"Yes, we made a list. I'm curious about who you specifically have your eyes on."

"Well," she began, placing her hands under her armpits, "Nott seems like a likely candidate."

"Nott? As in Theodore Nott, the man I used to be friends with."

"Precisely."

"And why, pray tell, do you think it'd be him?"

"You said so yourself that he does design work. He creates toys, sells some of his designs to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and according to you, he has a striking amount of designs in some sketchbook you've seen. Why wouldn't he be a candidate Malfoy?"

"I suppose you're right. He is a bit suspicious. It's also interesting that a Theo doll has yet to be made."

"My point exactly. I keep a close eye on him at work."

"He works in a completely different division to you Granger."

"So? I still keep my eyes on him now that we're doing some real investigating. I can't label him innocent yet."

"Right."

"And you? Who's one of your main suspects Malfoy?"

He scoffed. "Brown. I think this is all something she came up with."

"Lavender Brown? Malfoy, she's not the brightest girl around-"

"No, she's completely spacy. And that makes her suspicious in my book. She doesn't seem like a candidate at all, which makes her very suspicious."

"Right. None of these toys have a fashion sense though, which is what Brown is all about."

"The Lavender doll is the only toy from the Order's side to wear something with actual colour."

"Yes, lavender, just like her name. How strikingly creative."

"I'm just saying, Granger. You're the one who asked in the first place."

"I know. Anyone else?"

"Aside from our regular list? No."

"Well if we see this person at all tonight then we can possibly narrow down the list. From our list we have Brown, Nott, Longbottom…" she paused to shoot him a glare, Neville having been entirely his idea, "Skeeter, the Minster himself, Abbott and some Ravenclaw bloke you insist went to school with us."

"Granger, I know he went to school with us. I spent enough time bullying the kid to remember him."

"How sweet."

"I wasn't a sweet kid."

"I remember."

"Of course you do." He shoved his hand in his pockets, fighting off the cold again. "Does it occur to you that our list of suspects is kind of sporadic and random?"

"Ever since we first came up with it. We sound a bit loony in that sense."

"Agreed. Funny thing is we don't even know if this person is someone either of us knows."

"I know, but I have a feeling it is. This person seems to know about the people the toys are based off of way too much to be an outsider. I bet it's either a former Order member or old Death Eater who changed his ways. If we weren't already partners you could even fit into that category."

"Thanks," he said sarcastically. "That's so very kind of you."

"Of course." They lapsed into silence again, working to keep themselves warm in the frigid cold. Fall was incredibly bitter for only having begun, and she already knew that it would be a very cold winter, one she wasn't looking forward to.

He shook her shoulder a moment later and she spun around, just to be pulled further behind the gross dumpster they were hiding behind. She gave him a quick glance before returning her focus to whatever he'd seen. Peering around the dumpster, they both saw someone apparate into existence.

Hermione felt her eyes widen. The person had the build of a man, meaning they could cross several people off of their list. His face and hair were hidden however by a hood, pulled up tightly around his face. From his pocket he pulled a small item and a moment later pulled out his wand too, causing the item to grow. It turned out to be a crate.

She exchanged a look with Malfoy. If nothing else, they had found their delivery-man, and hopefully the person behind all of this as well.

"Do we confront him?" Malfoy asked, leaning a bit closer to her. His voice was barely a whisper, working to keep quiet in the dead night, the only other noise the wind.

She hesitated, waiting to see what else he would do. From his pocket he pulled a paper, tacking it onto the door. Her eyes widened, thinking that was an incredibly bold mood to make for someone who didn't want to be found out. The man glanced around then, causing Hermione and Draco to shrink further into their hideout spot, before he began walking away.

"I'm not letting him get away," the blonde grunted, standing up. She reached to pull him back but missed his scarf, watching the man draw his wand. Hermione cursed her luck, wondering why the hell he had to be so brazen and bold. Before she could even really follow him however, the stranger turned around, own wand drawn.

"Malfoy!" He ducked to the side at her words, narrowly missing a spell. The stranger was using wordless magic, and her eyebrows lifted a hair. She knew few people who could actually do that, and most of them weren't even on her list.

Harry was one.

Ron was another.

The spell that he cast turned out to be nothing more than a leg-locking spell. She tried a simple disarming spell that he dodged, and before Malfoy could try to attack again he disappeared with a pop. The stranger had apparated away.

For a moment Hermione stood in silence, arms limp at her sides. Then her eyebrows drew together and she wheeled around on Malfoy, who was currently dusting himself off in the dim light.

"What did you do that for!?"

"Granger," he snapped, glancing around, "Keep it down. You're going to draw all the homeless fools over here."

"As if they haven't heard us already!"

"Granger-"

"You just had to go and try to catch him, didn't you?" she snapped, placing her hands on her hips. "Maybe if we gave him a bit of distance before trying to run and follow him we could've seen where he was going! Now he's completely gone and all we have left is-"

"Is a crate and a note," he said suddenly, brushing past her. The woman was still quite angry at him for his rash decision, but said nothing as she stalked after him. She wasn't going to miss the opportunity to snoop after all.

"Be careful," she hissed, glancing around. "The shop owner lives above this place. He probably heard us."

Draco cringed, having forgotten about that. He looked up as well to see if anyone was staring down at them. "Think he knows who we are?"

"You did scream my name several times, so yes, I would assume that he knows who we are. I said yours plenty as well."

"Fuck," he hissed, snatching the note off of the door. They froze, listening to see if they could hear anything.

"I hear footsteps," she snapped, tugging on his sleeve.

"Let's get out of here," he replied, grabbing her wrist. Before she had time to argue with him, he apparated them both away, leaving the crate undisturbed. It was perfect too, seeing that the door opened a few moments later, a bewildered and slightly angry store-owner peering out. He couldn't see anyone.

"Kids are trying to steal my merchandise," he muttered, opening the door wider. He would usually wait a few more hours before bothering to come and get the crate, right around the time he would normally get up anyway. As he stepped out to levitate the delivery inside, he reached back towards the door to snatch up the usual note left behind. When his hand only brushed wood, the man paused and looked at the door. His eyes widened.

"So someone was snooping," he said, shaking his head at the door. "It's a very good thing he likes keeping our notes cloaked. Having a wife like her would keep me on my toes too."

"I can't believe you brought us to a club," she hissed, glaring at him as they sat in one of the back booths. The place was mostly empty at that hour, but there were still enough people around that they didn't draw too much attention. A few of the lonesome men sitting around the bar shot Hermione a look when she walked in, but she turned up her nose and ignored them.

Malfoy found the incident comical. She did not.

"Would you rather I have apparated us back to my place?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow. "My relationship with my wife might be strained, but that doesn't mean that I want to bring strange women home to alarm my son."

"He's going to Hogwarts soon," she reminded, finally pulling off her hat. "I should know, I have to take Rose too."

"Quite right, but still. My marriage is fucked up enough."

"So I've noticed," Hermione muttered quietly, glancing away. There were enough articles in the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly about Malfoy's failing, scandalous marriage that anyone who read the paper knew all about the relationship, or lack thereof. "So, where's that paper? I want to know what it says."

He was grateful for the change of topic, and reached inside his cloak to pull it out. Setting the paper down between them he unfolded it, and both their eyes widened.

"It's blank," she snapped, picking the sheet up to examine both sides.

"Or it's been protected," he added, leaning back. "The man is selling toys illegally to a shop. He probably takes extra precautions."

"You're probably right," she muttered, setting the paper down. "I bet I can lift the spell if I have a bit of time to work on it."

"How much time exactly, Granger? I really don't want you complaining about that job of yours all because you're trying to lift a spell on a piece of paper. I don't think I can take all the bitching."

She shot him a glare. "I really don't think it's that complicated of a spell. I bet I can break it if given a bit of time. I can work on it at my house after work in the next few days."

"And you don't think you're darling hubby will be upset about that? I mean, won't it look suspicious or something?"

"Not with my job," she reminded, sitting back against the booth. "I'm often bringing things home to work on after hours."

"Granger, you do magical law work, not research. I still say he's going to question it."

"So let him," she said with a shrug. "Ron's harmless, and it wouldn't be the end of the world if he figured out what I've been spending all my time on. The only drawback might be mentioning you."

"Ah yes, I can only imagine how elated the Weasel will be to learn that you've spent so much time with me."

"Just as happy as your darling wife would be."

"Astoria isn't darling," he snapped, catching Hermione off guard. He seemed so angry at the mention of the subject. "Besides, it's not as though she's going to care. You've read all the articles Granger, or at the very least heard about them. You know all about the fucking scandal."

Hermione pursed her lips, saying nothing. She knew the topic had to be a sensitive one for him, and wasn't too keen on the idea of actually talking about this with him. It seemed like a private matter, one that he would discuss with a friend or ideal girlfriend. Not with someone he used to bully and could barely now call an acquaintance.

"You can say it you know, Granger," he continued, studying her. "It's not as though this has any effect on you."

"Malfoy-"

"She cheated on me," he said, his tone scarily controlled. "With Theo, my friend. In my bed."

She kept quiet, hands resting in her lap. Something told her he needed to just get this off of his chest, and interrupting would only fuel his fire.

"You know I haven't slept in that room since," he continued, looking straight into her eyes. "I can't. Not when I know she betrayed me so. Sometimes she doesn't even sleep at the Manor, and stays with him instead. I'm filing for a divorce."

"Malfoy… I'm sorry."

"Don't feed me your pity Granger," he spat, shaking his head. "I know you don't really feel sorry for me, not after everything. You probably see it as karma or something."

"Why would I see it like that?"

"Think of who I used to be," he reminded, still looking directly into her pupils. "I used to bully you ever chance I got. Why would you ever feel sorry for me?"

"Because everyone deserves respect," she snapped, watching one of his eyebrows arch up. "And if your own spouse won't at the very least respect you, then how can you trust that anyone else will? I don't know what happened to fracture your relationship Malfoy, but I am sorry that it happened. I don't think people deserve to be cheated on by the ones they love-"

"You think I loved Astoria?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"Well, I assumed-"

"It was an arranged marriage Granger," he cut in, shaking his head. "It has nothing to do with love. After the war we were both too worn-out and tired of all the bullshit to bother fighting it, and we got married. Now I wish I had fought it. I wouldn't be in this situation now."

"Maybe that's the problem," she said gently, ignoring the way he kept glaring at her. "You don't love her Malfoy, you said it yourself. Your marriage didn't really have any love in it. That might be why she decided to seek compassion elsewhere. Maybe she's searching for something the two of you don't have."

"Granger, are you insinuating that I'm completely heartless and cold?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm saying exactly what you did; you don't love her. And apparently she doesn't love you either. The divorce might be a better option. At least then you can both move on with your lives."

"That's easy for you to say," he snapped. "You don't have this problem."

Shrugging, she pressed her lips together. While her relationship with Ron was no longer ideal, she wasn't quite certain that she could ever see herself actually divorcing the man. Had her love for him fragmented over the years? And if so, why? Because he was mourning, or because she wasn't willing to slow down for him? Maybe it was because he never worked anymore, and mostly kept to himself, even at home. Occasionally he would speak to her, share a dinner with -the family- when Hermione was home to cook- but he didn't go out of his way to see her. The bed they shared felt cold most of the time, even when two people slept there. He never got close to her, and they certainly didn't have sex. Most of the time he was locked away in his office, keeping everything private.

She often wondered what he hid in there, but couldn't quite make herself snoop. It felt wrong to spy on your own husband.

"Granger?" She shook her head, coming out of her thoughts. He was looking at her now, the paper folded up again.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, you just spaced out. Let's just call it a night. It's almost three."

Her eyes widened. "Three! Oh, Merlin! What is Ron going to think?!"

Draco stood beside her as the woman jumped up, peering into a nearby mirror to make sure she looked alright. Slipping the paper into her hand as she turned back, he sighed.

"Let him think whatever he wants Granger. It's not like he ever tried to contact you."

She froze at his words, and the blonde turned away. He walked to the floo and left without a backwards glance, and she stood rooted to the spot long after he was gone. When one of the lonesome men moved to come and see her, she shook herself out of her trance and got out of there before a confrontation ensued. His words kept ringing in her head, even after she'd gotten back to her home and slipped into bed.

It's not like he ever tried to contact you.

Ron was asleep in bed snoring by the time she finally settled in, the children already tucked in for the night. Malfoy had a point. It's not like he was concerned. He didn't mind when she went out earlier, he didn't try to contact her and make sure she was okay. He did nothing.

Deep inside her chest, she felt her heart constricting. It was almost like he didn't care.

A/n: Second half will be posted in about a week!