It was undeniably transpiring into one of the worst days of his life.

Draco currently sat opposite his father, watching him habitually jab his finger at the Prophet on the table as he seethed in anger. The company's entire legal department was seated on one side of the boardroom, the Malfoys' personal solicitor on the left.

Draco rubbed his face with his hands, wishing it would all go away. What rattled him even more was that he found himself thinking about Granger rather than worrying about the very real threat of arrest and reputational damage.

That, and the fact that he was starting to questions his sanity thanks to his undue distraction.

"Who is Sebastian Parker? I want a trace on his every move." He heard his father command.

"He's friends with Blaise," Draco said. "I've had the pleasure of his acquaintance."

The lawyers' ears perked up and a barrage of questions about when and how Draco had come to know him were thrown in his direction as the auto-quill scribbled away.

He almost mouthed off at one of them who asked him what he meant by 'acquaintance'.

Meanwhile, his father looked thoroughly displeased from the other end of the room. "Does this Parker have Ministry contacts?" Lucius asked.

Draco shrugged. "It's likely."

His father drummed his fingers against the mahogany surface, the rhythm menacing. "He is certainly of no consequence amongst the older generation," he muttered.

"Do you have to go there?" Draco asked.

"One must consider the shareholders."

"Indeed." Draco ground out.

"Have you received any unusual gifts or mail recently?" his solicitor asked, trying to cut through the tension.

"I would have to check with my assistant." He could have just as easily said no, and yet, he was so thoroughly annoyed, he didn't wish to comply.

"Do you have any signs of memory loss?" one of the staff on the legal team piped.

"Well I wouldn't know now, would I?"

"Draco." Lucius warned. "These are very serious allegations."

"Thank you, father."

He knew the occasion didn't call for sarcasm, and Lucius had already formed his judgment. In his eyes, Draco had failed at his job, and Lucius was starting to look smug about it.

"Look, I perfectly understand what's at stake here." He felt like a wand was being perpetually prodded into his throat. He rubbed his neck at the thought. "I wouldn't know the first person to approach in the Ministry to even seek out a licence, let alone pay someone off to turn a blind eye." Handing a Ministry employee a sack of galleons just didn't fly with him. He much preferred charming conversations in social settings. It riled him that his father thought he would even consider it.

"Draco, whether or not you were directly involved, you will be held responsible. We must consider all possibilities," his solicitor said. "The auror department has requested to meet with you later this morning. You must be careful not to say anything that may be taken as a statement of admission."

Draco merely nodded. "I am quite familiar with my rights."

"Tiberius, is there no means to delay this?" his father pressed, that Malfoy tone of demand coming through. "Since when is the Ministry so agile?"

"I suspect it will be just an initial conversation. Procedural, if you will."

"They have nothing to go on." Draco stated. "What does Parker possibly possess to be able to write this utter dragon dung." He wished he could use more emphatic expletives. 'For fucks-sake.' He was fuming internally.

"Call in Henry," Lucius interrupted.

Draco leant forward as his Chief Financial Advisor hesitantly walked in and took the nearest seat, a stack of parchment in his arms.

"Morning, Henry," Draco greeted, breaking the silence.

"Hello, Draco," he replied, looking rather worse for wear.

"You can appreciate we are in a situation. Have you done as I have requested?" Lucius asked.

All eyes were on Henry as he shuffled his parchment. "Well, Sir, Mr Malfoy, I have– that is to say, yes, we have managed to scan the books for the last twelve months."

Draco clenched his jaw, his hand reflexively touching his wand on the inside of his robe, as his internal defences mounted. "This is outrageous. Tiberius, shouldn't we be threatening libel rather than undertaking an audit and putting undue stress on staff!" Since when was his father so bloody risk averse?

"Never mind that, Draco. Tiberius will certainly be responding on your personal behalf."

"Can't you lot assist?" He turned to the legal team. "Issue a statement, or something."

"We have instruction to hold off, Sir," his Chief Counsel spoke up.

Draco shot a subtle glare at his father. "Please go ahead and draft a statement," he ground out. He needed to remind Lucius that he held office and was in charge. "I want it on the record that Malfoy Corporation is an ethical organisation of the highest standing –

"Whose accounts show you authorised the release of five thousand galleons against 'miscellaneous marketing costs' last quarter." Lucius lifted up the parchment marked with red ink.

"You already knew about this? Then why must we all waste our time having this meeting?" Draco turned to Tiberius for an answer. So they were blocking him out already.

"Is there anything you can add to this, Draco?" Tiberius asked.

"I don't recall anything specific," he dismissed. "I sign a dozen things every other day. Why single out that cost?"

"Haven't you read the Prophet, Draco?" Lucius patronised.

"A random happenstance. I am not seeing a sequence here." His father's unwavering need to be in control was stifling. What about what he wanted, what he was capable of delivering? His thoughts turned to Granger, again. He blinked, rather alarmed. He was losing it.

"Fine," he said. Fine. "I will see what the Ministry has to say, Tiberius."

"You will report back to this group as soon as it is done."

Draco delivered a level stare across the room. "Yes, Father. I had every intention to consult on the matter."

Lucius' hand turned white as it clenched the head of his cane. He tilted his head curtly. "Good." His lips barely moved.

ooo

The Ministry meeting was, fortuitously, short in comparison. But equally as painful.

"Appreciate your cooperation this morning, Mr Malfoy. The Minister is very nervous about such things."

Draco nearly laughed. "Boot, right?" He didn't recognise the other auror standing quietly near the door.

"That's right. Terry Boot."

"Hmmm, Hogwarts?"

The auror nodded.

"Tell me, Terry. Since when does the Prophet have such a chokehold on the Ministry?"

The Auror leant forward from the other end of the desk. "Why don't you tell me how you know Sebastian Parker, instead?"

Draco smirked. He always liked to test the waters. "We are mere acquaintances."

"Any idea why Sebastian Parker would be so interested in how you conduct your business?"

"What are you implying?" Draco could feel Boot steering him into unwelcome territory. "I have no reason to know why Parker would feel so inclined. And…I am beginning to wonder whether this line of questioning is directed at me, personally. I am here on behalf of the company."

The Auror maintained his gaze as he flipped open the file in front of him. "Our internal records show that in the last twelve months, your company has applied for and been granted ten licences for various infrastructure, Ministry spell developments that minimise disruption from muggle technology, and specifically, two licenses relating to the use of magic in a non-wizarding zone in Muggle London. Is that correct?"

"Isn't that the purpose of the Ministry's research and development department? To keep the Ministry treasury full of galleons?"

"Answer the question, Mr Malfoy."

Draco cringed at the formal title. His father was Mr Malfoy. "Draco."

Boot didn't budge.

"I don't have that information on hand. However, our offices are in a non-wizarding zone – it doesn't seem unusual."

The Auror nodded in acknowledgement. "The typical time frame for such approvals is three months and that's if they meet all the criteria. These two were granted in one."

"I can't comment on Ministry resourcing."

Boot smirked, and turned over the parchment. "Do you consent to us meeting with someone from your finance department?"

"No, I do not. You have no grounds for asking for private information – verbal or otherwise." He clasped his hands together, elbows on the armrests. "Cooperation is not an invitation to go digging, Terry."

"Sebastian Parker has provided some documentation to our department which is currently undergoing analysis for authenticity. To assist us with that check, we wish to confirm some transactions."

"Send an Owl to our legal department, we can go from there."

Terry frowned. "Look, Draco. I don't want to be the bearer of bad news, but we have evidence that names you personally."

"Excuse me?"

"A senior Ministry employee who I cannot name has claimed to have received a gift from you."

"I don't give gifts," Draco spat.

"Their Gringotts account had a healthy sum of about two-and-a-half thousand Galleons added to it, round about the time a grant was issued. The same happened for the second."

"And I certainly don't give those kinds of gifts," Draco bit out. He was starting to wonder what the fuck was going on.

He could see Boot regarding him with interest. A sympathetic interest that made Draco scowl.

"If I can speak to someone who authorises these amounts at your company I can establish that these aren't directly linked to you."

"Well, here's the thing, Terry –" Draco ran his fingers through his hair as he let out a slow, controlled breath. "If the costs haven't been pre-approved as part of a budget, then anything above one thousand comes through me." The threat of the miscellaneous costs was being brought to bear.

"Right. Uh…anyone else who might have access to these requests and your insignia?"

Draco through hard and fast. The only person who had properly handled his inbox and any seals he used was Mac. "My assistant. He's a kid!"

"What about any regulars to your office?"

"I don't take many visitors in my office." Silence took over the interview room. Draco leant forward. "I'm going to have to leave it there, I think. You will have to send a formal request for information…send it to my personal lawyer, too." Draco stood up, brushing his robes.

Terry nodded, standing to motion him out.

Draco would be damned if this unravelling series of events was going to ruin everything he had invested in recently. "We have a joint Ministry event next Saturday."

"Rather looking forward to it. I will be attending with my wife."

Draco was taken off guard by the auror's sudden enthusiasm. "Yes, well, Gra– Hermione Granger is the force behind it all. She's worked tirelessly, and I- the company, wouldn't want to see this permeating across to her department."

Terry nodded. "She was rather concerned about it. The Minister is keen not to disrupt it from being a success."

Draco nodded. "Appreciated." He turned toward the door.

"Think about who your enemies might be, Draco."

A further afternoon with Tiberius, and Lucius breathing fire in his direction, was enough to send Draco to his cabinet of extra fine drop of firewhisky.

ooo

Draco sat in his lounge as his thoughts unravelled. The first drink was comforting. The second started to chip away at his emotional shield. By the third, he found himself reaching out to Granger, owling her at the eleventh hour, deliberating for a while after her curt response whether it was a good idea to actually go through with it and show up.

He resisted a fourth drink to avoid a Floo accident.

It was all a bit of a blur at first. Draco found himself amongst Granger's soft furnishings, trying to keep the mood light, toasting to their health, taking in her momentary amusement and noticing the honeydew scent that lingered from her wet hair, before she threw an unexpected apology at him.

He couldn't stand her guilt. It threw him into self-preservation mode, yet this time, it was somehow re-directed at her and protecting the integrity of the magazine launch.

"I don't just care about work, you know," she said.

He was too inebriated to hide his confusion. He reverted to light-hearted response. As it turned out, Lucius had been meddling in every facet of Draco's life.

"He what?" The few extra nips of alcohol Granger had provided helped him swallow his building rage when she announced in her kitchen that Lucius had paid her a visit.

Granger looked visibly bothered. "He wanted to know what my long-term plans are. He said I was clearly not interested in you beyond–" She lifted her hands up to gesture quotation marks, "–office-hour frivolity."

A slight pause interrupted his breath. He was immediately dissatisfied at the thought of such a loose connection between them. "And how do you feel about that?" he asked carefully, trying to suppress the rising apprehension that she would somehow concede his father's observations.

It seem to be the case with everything else.

"It depends."

He felt Granger's hand envelope his slowly, her gaze concentrating on him with determination. A flicker of insecurity crossed her features which alarmed him.

"On what?" he managed to ask.

"On you." Her grip tightened. "Do you see me as more than a workaholic Hermione Granger?"

He had dismissed the same question earlier with a passing quip. She was being serious. Lucius had certainly shaken her confidence. And here Draco thought his father's tact, or lack thereof, was reserved only for him. It wasn't just about him anymore. Draco was suddenly compelled to remind Hermione who she was, not just for her benefit, for his.

"You're Hermione Granger." He was beguiled by her dependence on his reassurance, and yet, it was at that moment that he realised he was seeking the same thing from her. The lack of control and prospect of public humiliation left him focused on the one thing he wasn't prepared to lose. He could not describe the rush of emotions as his chest expanded, and he circled his arms around her, bringing her in close. "Granger, you'll be the death of me."

It was an admission of need that he had never allowed himself.

"Can I take you to bed, Granger?" She looked so damned beautiful and he wanted her.

She nodded against his chest.

His hands roamed down her back, grabbing her curves and pulling her flush against him, shifting to capture her lips, his mouth desperate.

Hermione moaned.

He loved it.

It didn't take them long to divest their clothes, as she pulled him into her bedroom, shutting her door and staring him down.

"I'm all yours, Granger." He growled into her ear as she straddled him, letting herself slip onto his hard length, watching her as she built herself into a frenzy, her slow controlled movements driving them both crazy. He squeezed her breasts, stroking her nipples, as she found her clit.

She felt so good.

The second time he slammed into her like she was all he had left, losing himself to the rhythm of their thrusts and the sound of her breaths, catching her whimpers of pleasure over his own heavy breaths. Finally, he released all his pent up tension letting himself come on her abdomen as she recovered from her own high. His balls never felt so light.

"Fuck, that was…"

"I know," she exhaled, disbelief in her voice.

He couldn't help feeling an overdue sense of accomplishment.

ooo

"Granger, move over," he muttered, leaning in closer to capture some of the prime real estate that actually had coverage. It was no use. She was dead to the world, and he felt partly responsible having made up for their lost intimacy. Only then did he properly register that he was in her house, in her bed, spending the night.

His eyes opened.

He was right at the edge of the mattress and Hermione was curled up in the middle. Groggy and thirsty, he sat up on the edge of the bed letting his eyes adjust, rubbing his stiff shoulder.

Not quite comfortable with the idea of walking around her place naked, he grabbed his pants and slid them on. Draco shuffled, slipping out of her room and into her bathroom. A long satisfying leak was in order.

He slowly made his way toward the kitchen, vaguely noticing that the light was on. He stopped short of the archway when he spotted the culprit.

"Potter?" He blinked in case his eyes were deceiving him.

Nope, it was Potter alright.

He turned around, surprised, but not shocked. "Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing." He frowned, the realisation that his relationship with Granger was devoid of any label. "You and Granger…you're not…"

"Not what?" Harry's eyes widened as he caught on. "No. Merlin, no. I mean, we're friends…family. I have the honour of couch sitting at the moment."

Draco raised a brow. "And she's okay with you walking around like that?" The guy was in his skivvies.

"Well I figured she was asleep, but it's not like she hasn't seen it before."

He could feel the unprecedented green eyed monster rise in his chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Relax, Malfoy. I was referring to you."

The both stared at Granger's hairball cat as it walked in and meowed before settling under the table. "I didn't realise Granger still had that cat."

"That cat is called Crookshanks."

It suddenly felt a little too crowded. "Potter, how long have you been here, exactly?"

"I arrived last night."

"No. I mean, this evening."

Harry grinned. "An hour, or so. I was out. Besides, it's not like I've –"

"Enough, Potter." He raised his hands in surrender. "I don't want to know what it means to be part of the fucking Golden Trio."

"Malfoy, you sure have some imagination." Harry shook his head, waving him off. "I'm going back to bed. Shut the light when you're done. And make sure you use silencing charms in the morning."

"Piss off, Potter."

Harry chuckled as he walked out.

A/N: It's all starting to come together now. Thanks for reading! :)