It's a Mystery, Granger

Chapter 14

Draco was let out from St. Mungo's just hours after being admitted and was taken immediately to Hermione's office. Upon their arrival, he found Weasel and Potter waiting for them. Weasel was still in handcuffs, but it was a good sign that he had been at least released from the dungeons.

"Weasley," Draco greeted. Hermione did not let him sit in her chair despite how he was supposed to be freshly injured, but Draco took it in stride and instead grumbled, "Don't need a chair anyway."

"What's this about you being attacked by Smith's killer?" Weasel asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Ah, I see the gossip mill around here is still as efficient as ever," Draco commented. Hermione gave him a look and he rolled his eyes. "It's just what it sounds like, Weasley. Your guy was killed, I was seen doing business with him, and Flint decided I had to go too. Didn't work out for him very well though, now did it?"

"They brought Flint in for questioning," Potter informed him. Draco pretended to be surprised as he said, "The Ministry had an exact location on him."

"How lucky," he said, grinning down at Hermione who had taken a seat in her chair.

"Yes," Potter said warily, eyeing him for a minute. "We do have some questions about the body we found in your vault before we proceed with the Flint situation, though."

"Naturally," Draco grumbled. Granger couldn't have taken care of that, could she?

"Smith saw you two arguing the day of his death," Weasel accused. Draco sighed, but let Weasel continue. "You talked about the vault and an agreement. His body is still in your vault."

"And I imagine you figured the best way to solve that mystery was to break into my vault yourself, then?" Draco replied, crossing his arms. From behind the desk, Hermione pinched his leg and he realised he was supposed to have several broken ribs at that moment. Dropping his arms, he said, "Smith never said anything about a murder, Weasley. Why did you do it?"

"You don't get to question me," Weasel snapped.

"Ron," Hermione hissed, glaring at him. Draco hid a smile.

"I went because it was suspicious," Weasel told him haughtily. "I read about an argument between two purebloods and suddenly a witness is killed? I had to know what was in that vault, didn't I?"

"Sure," Draco said, shrugging. "But why not tell anyone after? Why not reopen the case so you could get clearance?"

"Because I think you did it, but I needed more time to get proof," Weasel answered, glaring at him from his chair. "Larkin wouldn't have let me reopen the case just to visit your vault. Gringotts wouldn't have allowed it either without your permission."

"How did Crabbe's body get there, Malfoy?" Potter asked. Draco looked from Weasel to Potter. Beside him, Hermione said nothing. "You never told us that."

"Crabbe was a good friend," Draco said smoothly. Surely Potter had seen the two of them running around Hogwarts in the past. "We had an agreement that he could store some heirlooms in my vault since it was more protected. He told Flint where they were being kept and Flint killed him to get them. They have a strange blood curse on them, so technically the heirlooms belong to Flint now."

"So you put Crabbe's body in your vault?" Potter asked sceptically. "It doesn't add up."

"As long as Crabbe's body is preserved, Flint can't claim those heirlooms," Draco lied easily. He had no care for heirlooms and Flint certainly didn't. Leaving Crabbe's body was more of a reminder of what happened when he conducted business outside of Syndicate.

"This makes no sense," Weasel grumbled, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"Malfoy has agreed to drop the charges against you, Ron," Hermione said, ignoring the way Weasel raised a suspicious eyebrow. "We've linked the two cases as well, so the Ministry will pardon you."

"You're in on this too now, Mione?" Ron asked. Hermione shrugged.

"I believe it," she said, despite the fact that Draco knew she did not. "I've done enough research on blood magic to know it's possible and we all know how Flint can be."

Locking eyes with Hermione, Potter asked, "So what's the official statement?"

Hermione glanced up at Draco, but he just stared back at her. This was her case, after all. He wasn't about to tell her how to run it.

"Malfoy and Smith were both attacked by Flint," Hermione said authoritatively. While Smith had been killed by hired hands, Flint was still behind both of them, so they could charge him with both accounts. As for Weasel's stunt in Gringotts? "He was there because of Smith's journal. When asked and examined by an Unspeakable, Malfoy admitted there was a fight, but only because Crabbe had broken the terms of their agreement. Later, Flint killed Crabbe in an attempt to get the heirlooms, but Malfoy took his body to prevent Flint from getting them."

"And you think the Ministry will believe it?" Weasel asked, eyeing both Hermione and Draco.

"With all three of us testifying to its truth?" Hermione replied. There was not a doubt in her mind.

While Hermione, Potter, and Weasel filed the appropriate paperwork and got Weasel officially released from the Ministry and Gringotts, Draco apparated back to the Syndicate. Daphne was waiting in his office, having claimed his desk chair as her own while Blaise and Theo sat across from her.

"How's the Ministry?" Blaise asked, smirking up at him as he took a sip of what looked a lot like Draco's personal alcohol.

"As charming as ever," he replied drily. He poured himself a glass and booted Daphne out of his chair. She took a seat in Theo's lap and Blaise wrinkled his nose. "Healer Fletcher was perfect, Daph."

"Wonderful," Daphne hummed. She snatched Theo's glass from him and took a long sip before handing it back. "And Granger? How did she do?"

"Perfectly," Draco smiled, hiding his face poorly behind his glass.

All three of them raised an eyebrow at him, but none said a word. Instead, they finished their drinks in silence then separated to their own parts of the Syndicate, leaving Draco in his office to await Hermione.

She, of course, waited until the very end of the workday to go home, so Draco had to wait many hours before apparating into her living room. While Hermione was nowhere in sight, her kneazle was happy to greet him. He sent his cloak to hang beside the Floo then squatted down to scratch the ridiculously orange creature behind his ears.

"You are the only person Crookshanks has ever liked," Hermione said, startling him. Draco wobbled and Hermione smirked, but he didn't fall.

"I've found most animals have an undeniable attraction to me," Draco murmured, giving Crookshanks one last scratch then standing. "It's ruining my image."

"Yes, that's what it's doing," Hermione agreed humorously. She had changed out of her work clothes and was sporting a ridiculous muggle outfit that Draco couldn't seem to look away from.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, eyeing first her top and then her bottoms. He attempted to hide his sharp inhale, but at Hermione's smirk, he knew he hadn't been as successful as he had thought.

"This is a jumper," Hermione told him, tugging at her top. "And these are yoga pants."

As she tugged on the tight material of her yoga pants, they snapped right back into place against her legs and Draco wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Don't like my muggle clothes?" she taunted, taking a step toward him.

"Quite on the contrary, actually," Draco murmured, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arm around her waist. "You wouldn't be willing to wear this everyday, would you?"

Hermione snorted and Draco's hand slipped under her jumper, cutting her laugh short.

"Certainly not to the Ministry, no," she told him, leaning against his chest. "But I can be convinced to wear this at home."

"Good," Draco replied before cutting off any possibility of further conversation with his lips on hers.

The End