Summary: Draco and Hermione have been hiding their relationship from the public since it even began. When Skeeter arrives unannounced for an interview and catches them both off guard, however, that's pretty much the end of it.

Draco was getting sick of being the last one called to a crime scene. He was second to Potter alone in the department now, yet everyone insisted on calling in anyone else before him. Time was everything when they were trying to hunt down suspects and the inability to follow protocol had cost them more hours than Draco bothered counting.

"Why didn't you call me sooner, McLaggen?" Draco demanded, crossing his arms. "You knew right away it was in my division, but this case is now a day old."

"Forgive me," McLaggen sneered, shoving the report file at Draco's chest. "Can't have someone messing up the scene before a real auror can see it."

"Precisely why you shouldn't be here," Draco replied with a glare. "Get lost."

McLaggen apparated without a word and Draco took a deep breath. Of all the aurors, McLaggen had always been the worst. The others at least tried to hide their hatred for him but McLaggen didn't bother.

At the very least, Draco could be glad McLaggen's reports were fairly well done. All the first details were clear and he'd followed the rest of protocol perfectly. The only part he'd failed at was alerting Draco to the scene the same day it had been called in.

A crack behind him drew his attention away from the report and he looked up to see Hermione walking toward him.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said with a frown. Hermione shrugged and glanced around the site, eyeing the scattered aurors that had come with McLaggen to gather any remaining evidence.

"Cormac returned with some choice words," Hermione told him, sliding a little closer to him than Draco was comfortable with for a public setting.

"Hermione," he warned, looking down at her.

"No one's paying attention," she told him, "Plus, you're about to leave for three days. Let me have this."

Draco glanced around the park and sighed before grabbing her hand under the cover of their cloaks. Hermione grinned.

"Tell me what happened," Hermione said, looking around the park as well.

Draco didn't know much more than what he'd read in the report, so he quickly summarized it all for her. Another murder, but in a muggle neighbourhood this time. The man was muggleborn and if Hermione hadn't been staring at him so pointedly, he wouldn't have told her that the victim had been tortured to death instead of avada'd.

"And how did McLaggen know it was yours?" she asked, eyeing the photos from the report.

Draco pulled one particular photo to the top and Hermione's breath caught.

"Oh," she said softly, staring down at the carving in the victim's arm. The crooked letters were hard to read, but the word 'filthy' was legible enough.

"No suspects yet, but it's definitely a blood purist," Draco grumbled, closing the file sharply. He knew he was the best choice for cases involving the dark arts or Death Eater enthusiasts after the War, but he didn't always enjoy it.

One of the aurors looked up at them then and Draco dropped Hermione's hand. She took a step back and gave him a small smile.

"I'll be at the office finishing paperwork all day," she told him, "Skeeter's coming in the afternoon, though. Something about an annual interview with the auror department, but I think it's just her excuse to make me miserable."

"I'll avoid your office then," Draco said with a smirk. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You better not take off without saying goodbye," she warned, giving him a look. Draco smiled warmly at her and promised. "Good," she said, pulling out her wand to apparate. "Love you."

"I love you too," Draco said, swatting her away. "Now go. You're interrupting my investigation."

Hermione grinned and disappeared with a loud crack, leaving Draco to finish cleaning up the crime scene then begin what was sure to be a long investigation.

* * * * *

Hermione looked up from her desk to stretch her neck. Hours of paperwork at a time was a nightmare and always sent her home with a headache. Unfortunately, tonight Draco wouldn't be home to massage the knots out. If she was lucky, though, she could maybe convince him to do it before he left.

A knock on her door made her frown.

"Come in," she said, glancing at her muggle wall clock. It was late afternoon and she was still expecting Skeeter at some point, but that was not who walked in. "I thought you were leaving later," Hermione said, getting up from her desk as Draco closed her door.

"Yeah, well Potter scored me a dinner meeting so I'm leaving within the hour," Draco said. He met her halfway across her office and wrapped an arm around her waist. "I have some of the trainees running my case with instructions to come to you first if they should find anything."

"And McLaggen isn't upset that I'm heading it for you instead of him?" she teased, smiling up at him. Draco snorted.

"Furious, actually," he informed her. Hermione's smile widened and Draco leaned down to press a warm kiss to her lips. "How was the meeting with Skeeter?" he asked, his lips brushing hers.

"She hasn't come by yet," Hermione replied. She pulled him closer and pressed her forehead against his. "She likes to make me wait."

"Any longer and she'll be here past business hours," Draco said. Hermione hummed. If that happened, she wasn't above walking out of the office in the middle of it.

"If she's too much later, I'll actually get my paperwork done," Hermione said. Draco pulled back so he could look at her.

"You're still doing paperwork?" he asked, frowning slightly. Hermione nodded and grimaced at the twinge in her neck. His hand followed hers to where her neck met her shoulder and he rubbed it. "Sorry I won't be home tonight," he said, massaging what little area he could.

"You'll make it up to me," she said. She closed her eyes and groaned at the pressure. "On second thought, maybe I'll tell Harry you're unavailable."

Draco chuckled and continued to massage her neck as she leaned against him happily.

The sound of the door being thrown open made them spring apart so quickly that Hermione almost tripped over one of her desk chairs. Draco reached out to steady her, but she righted herself quickly and they both turned to see Rita Skeeter grinning widely at them.

"What is this?" she asked excitedly, walking purposefully into the room. "Miss Granger, I didn't expect you to fit the Malfoy's typical type."

"No, Skeeter, you're—that's not what that was," Hermione said quickly, smoothing her hair.

"Granger and I are partners, Miss Skeeter," Draco said, casting a glance at Hermione. "We consult on cases and that's all."

"Oh yes, partners indeed," Skeeter said suggestively, eyeing Draco. "Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, do partners in this auror office always cuddle so closely? Should I be keeping a closer eye on Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley?"

"Weasley is actually partnered with Finnagan," Draco said coolly. Skeeter didn't look like she cared much. Turning back to Hermione, he said, "I have to leave. Let me know if there's any breakthroughs in that case though, yeah?"

Hermione nodded, giving him a smile and letting him go without a hug as Skeeter had her eyes following their every move very closely. Draco nodded at Skeeter and left the office, closing the door behind him and trapping Hermione in for the interview.

"Any tea before we begin, Skeeter?" Hermione asked, gesturing to the chair across her desk as she returned to her own chair.

"No, I'd prefer to get right into it," Skeeter said, pulling out her Quik Notes quill. "First question for our dear readers, Miss Granger: How long have you been snatched up in Mr. Malfoy's ever so capable arms?"

Hermione sighed and brewed herself the most calming tea she could think of, already knowing the interview was going to be so much worse than she predicted.

* * * * *

When Hermione received the following morning's Prophet publication, she almost choked on her coffee.

Death Eater Steals Our Golden Girl! Read All About the Hidden Romance Between Death Eater Draco Malfoy and Death Eater Sympathiser Hermione Granger on Page 3!

"Fuck," Hermione cursed, setting her tea down so she could flick through the paper.

Imagine my surprise, dear readers, when I arrived for an interview with our lovely Gryffindor Princess only to find her busy sucking face with a Death Eater! Not only has Hermione Granger testified on behalf of several known Death Eaters, but she's now romantically involved with Death Eater Draco Malfoy.

Hermione skimmed over the rest of the article, picking out phrases such as "disturbing and upsetting betrayal" and "forbidden clandestine meetings". She dropped the paper on her kitchen table without fully reading it and checked her muggle mobile to call Harry. Hesitating, she stuffed her mobile in the pocket of her robes and rushed to finish getting ready. It would probably be better to ask for his opinion in person.

Activating the Floo, Hermione called loudly for the Ministry. As she stepped through though, she was immediately met with a barrage of reporters and flashing cameras.

Wizards and witches called out her name on either side of her, but Hermione didn't react. She shoved through the crowd, her eyes set on the lift determinedly. When she finally made it, the lift doors didn't close fast enough and three reporters slipped inside with her.

"Miss Granger, how long have you been involved with Mr. Malfoy?"

"Is Mr. Malfoy blackmailing you with a relationship?"

"How does your family feel about you being a Death Eater fucker?"

Hermione stared straight ahead and ignored the questions. When the lift doors opened, she couldn't get out fast enough. She practically sprinted to Harry's office, trying to get rid of the reporters that were following her.

When she reached his office, she slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, staring at Harry with wide eyes.

"Harry, fix it," she said. She could hear the muffled voices of the reporters outside the door and put a complicated locking charm on it before stepping away. "Skeeter—She found out about me and Draco and she published it this morning and it's—it's so bad, Harry. I couldn't read it and Draco—he'll see it in Austria and he'll panic and I just—"

"Hermione, slow down," Harry said, interrupting her quickly. He pulled her into a hug and Hermione hugged him back tightly, trying to breath normally. "Skeeter published your relationship?"

"Yes," she breathed, clinging to him tighter. "It's all in the Prophet and people are upset. They're so upset by it, Harry. There's reporters downstairs and outside your office—"

Harry let her go immediately and stormed to his door. As soon as he pulled it open, the three reporters that had followed her returned to their frenzy of questions.

"Without proper clearance, you'll all be escorted to the Ministry dungeons if you don't clear out in the next minute," Harry ordered. Hermione leaned against the edge of his desk, trying to stay out of sight as the reporters slowly headed to the lift. Once they were gone, Harry turned back to Hermione and locked the door. "Tell me exactly what happened," he said softly.

* * * * *

By the end of the day, things had only gotten worse. Reporters and angry protesters alike were camped outside the Ministry and Hermione had received several threatening and angry messages. Harry had gotten permission from Kingsley for Hermione to connect his Floo to her flat so she could leave the Ministry without being seen. He'd also dispatched a team to the Prophet to prevent Skeeter from publishing anything more on Draco and Hermione's relationship, but the damage had already been done as far as Hermione was concerned.

The following morning, the Prophet had dedicated two whole pages to public opinion on Hermione's newly discovered relationship. None of them were positive which had to have been done on purpose. Unfortunately, Hermione still had work and took her Floo to Harry's office to avoid the inevitable reporters downstairs.

A pile of letters and howlers were sitting for her when she stepped into her office. As if sensing her presence, the howlers floated up and surrounded her before she could even shut her door. The first one opened, screaming into her left ear as Hermione scrambled to cast a silencing charm in her office.

"—Death Eater fucker!"

The howler shredded itself and the next one opened its mouth and began to scream at her as well. Hermione tried to cover her ears to block it out, but it was useless.

After several more howlers, they were finally all gone and Hermione's ears were ringing with the silence. She looked warily at the pile of what could only be hate mail on her desk and without thinking, vanished the entire stack to the Ministry garbage.

Hermione stayed in her office until lunch, wanting to hide from her coworkers and strangers alike. When her stomach was finally growling too often to ignore, she got up from her desk slowly and made her way down to the Ministry cantine.

As soon as she walked through the doors, she could feel eyes on her. She hurried over to the deli and grabbed herself a sandwich and a drink as quickly as she could. The line to check out was long, but she had no other choice but to stand in it before she could retire back to her office. She slid into place behind a woman with long hair and willed the line to move quickly.

No one stepped behind her the entire time she was in line. When the woman in front of her turned back to look at her, she huffed, raised her chin, and turned back around as if Hermione was the dirt on her shoe. Hermione ignored the way her chest tightened and tried not to think of it as the woman paid for her lunch and left.

"We don't serve Death Eater bitches," the cashier said, sneering at her. Hermione's eyes narrowed.

"Excuse you," she said, put off by his rude tone. "I'm a Ministry worker just like the others."

"You're a Death Eater's bitch," the cashier said again, snatching the sandwich and drink from Hermione's hands. "Get lost."

Offended and a bit embarrassed, Hermione turned to leave the line, wondering what she'd do for lunch now. She had hardly stepped aside when Cormac McLaggen appeared in front of her and blocked her path.

"Are they true? The rumours?" he demanded, glaring at her.

"What do you care, McLaggen?" she snapped back.

"I just like to know who I should keep an eye on and Death Eater scum are at the top of that list," McLaggen said, sneering at her. Hermione narrowed her eyes and stepped around him, having to shove past when he stepped in front of her again.

As quick as lightning, McLaggen had one hand wrapped around her wrist and his wand at her throat. Her neck whipped forward painfully as she was jerked back but that didn't stop Hermione from smacking his wand away and raising her own in response.

"Get your wand out of my face," she snarled when he raised it right back up.

"Get out of the Ministry," McLaggen said, spitting the words at her. "And take your Death Eater with you too. Wouldn't want you getting randy without him."

Hermione didn't have to form the words to curse him, sending him soaring backwards and crashing into the wall. The deli went silent enough that Hermione heard McLaggen mutter his own curse before it soared toward her. She leapt out of the way as an acid curse exploded behind her.

"That's dark magic," she gasped, staring at him with wide eyes.

"You'd recognise it, wouldn't you?" McLaggen sneered. He sent another curse flying at her and Hermione blocked it quickly.

His attacks continued unrelentingly and Hermione had to move quickly if she wanted to avoid getting hit with one. The curses were fast and angry, shattering every shield she cast on impact.

"Granger! McLaggen!"

Hermione's head snapped back at Harry's shout and McLaggen's curse hit her shoulder in her moment of distraction. A fiery pain shot from her shoulder down her arm and Hermione gasped sharply, swaying on her feet.

"Hermione," Harry gasped, rushing forward as she stumbled. Her arm burned but when she looked at it, nothing was happening. "What did you hit her with, McLaggen?" Harry demanded, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to keep her upright.

"What she deserved," McLaggen answered with a glare.

"Tell me or you're done," Harry threatened, "Lie to me and you'll see years in Azkaban."

Hermione gasped as the pain got worse and McLaggen glared at Harry, debating how sincere his threat was.

"Tell me!" Harry roared.

McLaggen didn't answer but Harry was done waiting. He clutched Hermione tighter to his chest and apparated to St. Mungo's. The sensation of apparation made the burning in her arm worse and Hermione groaned against her will.

"Auror down!" a medi-witch shouted before racing toward them. "What happened?"

"She was hit with an unknown curse," Harry said, following the medi-witch hastily down the medical wards.

"Dark magic," Hermione gasped, remembering the angry way it had left McLaggen's wand.

Harry laid her on a cot and stepped back so the medi-witches could take over, casting diagnostic charms to determine what was happening.

"Look," a medi-witch murmured, pointing to her scan. "Her humerus and scapula are turning to liquid."

"That sounds right," Hermione groaned, shifting uncomfortably on the cot.

"We'll have to put you under to fix it, Auror Granger," a medi-witch informed her kindly. That sounded fantastic to Hermione with the current pain she was in. "Is there anyone we should call to oversee the procedure?"

"Draco," Hermione said, glancing at Harry. He nodded and at her consent, the medi-witches cast the charm to put her under, letting Hermione blissfully disappear into unconsciousness.

* * * * *

"You should have fucking called me sooner," Draco snarled, standing outside the room where Hermione was. "I was in Austria, not on the goddamn moon."

"It happened yesterday," Harry said, making a mental note to keep the papers from Draco's office. "She had it handled."

"Does this look handled, Potter?" Draco yelled. Harry glared at him and Draco groaned, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. "Not your fault, Potter," he muttered which was as close to an apology as he was going to get. "We've been so careful—so careful!" He hit the floor with his fist and grimaced. "She was never supposed to—There are people, Potter, people who would kill her if they knew and now they know."

"We've already set more wards around her flat," Harry said, sitting beside him on the ground.

"She doesn't stay at her flat," Draco grumbled. He'd be putting more wards up around it anyway, though, just in case she ever did.

"It would have happened sometime," Harry said quietly. Draco scowled at the door across the hall but didn't argue with him.

"It shouldn't have happened without our consent," he said. Harry nodded, humming softly in agreement then letting the hall fall into silence.

Draco dropped his head into his hand and combed his fingers worriedly through his hair. He was a day late to the news and he supposed it was luck that McLaggen was the only one to attack her as of yet. Just off the top of his head, he could think of several old acquaintances who would have raced the clock to take a hit out of her with him gone.

Merlin, he needed to get wards up now.

"Potter, tell me when she's out," he said, getting to his feet.

"No, you can't leave," Harry objected, standing up just as quickly. "She asked for you. If you're not here when she wakes up, she'll panic."

"I—Wards—" Draco stuttered, torn between staying with Hermione and setting up better wards.

"I'll put them up," Harry told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "She'll be safer here with you."

"Bad people, Potter," he repeated, shaking his head. "Bad people would want her, you understand? The worst you can think of."

"Tell me and I'll take care of them," Harry promised. Draco hesitated. "Malfoy, if you don't tell me who could possibly be after her, I can't help."

"Do you have parchment?" Draco asked. Harry procured a sheet of parchment and a quill and handed it over to Draco. Leaning against the wall, Draco quickly wrote down anyone who could possibly have their eye on him—and Hermione by extension—then handed it over.

Harry glanced over the list and frowned.

"Lestrange is in Azkaban," he reminded Draco. Draco shook his head.

"He has free range of the place," he said, glaring at the thought. "He can come and go as he pleases. Azkaban doesn't mean anything to families with old money."

Harry's frown deepened and he nodded, tucking the list in his robe pocket.

"I'll take care of that later," he muttered. He nodded at Hermione's closed door. "Tell her she has the week off, yeah?"

Draco nodded and watched as Harry apparated out of St. Mungo's, leaving Draco alone in the hallway to think and worry.

* * * * *

Draco didn't let go of Hermione's hand from the second he was allowed in to see her until they had apparated safely back to his flat. He'd been handed a potion she was to take until the dull pain in her shoulder disappeared, but Hermione hadn't wanted any of it. Instead, the first thing she did when they arrived was pull him to the couch and sit on his lap to hug him.

While Draco hadn't said anything too worrisome at St. Mungo's, Hermione could almost hear his racing thoughts. Figuring the best thing to do at the moment was hug him, she wasted no time.

"Hermi—"

"It's okay," she interrupted, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "We're okay, Draco."

Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder. He let out a shaky breath and Hermione gingerly played with the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

"I never wanted this for you," he murmured, pulling her closer. "You don't deserve to be treated like I am."

"They'll learn to let it go," Hermione told him, gently playing with his hair. "It doesn't bother me."

"It bothers me," Draco grumbled. Hermione smiled softly and squeezed his shoulders comfortingly. "Potter told me about the Prophet."

"Oh, that wasn't that bad," Hermione said, thinking back to the howlers and the pile of hate mail that had shown up in her office.

"Hermione, they published threats!" Draco protested, pulling back to look at her. Hermione bit her lip and Draco frowned. "That wasn't all, was it? You didn't tell Potter there was something else."

"And I won't tell you because you'll make it into a bigger problem," Hermione argued. Draco sighed and gently cupped her face, brushing her cheeks softly.

"Some are going to be real," he warned. Hermione shrugged half-heartedly. "I can't protect you if I don't know what they're saying."

"I'm sure you can," Hermione said with a smile. She'd long since learned that reminding Draco she could take care of herself did not help reassure him. When it came to past enemies and their relationship, Draco was much too paranoid to be reassured so easily.

"You're not leaving the flat for a month," Draco grumbled, pulling her back to his chest and tucking his head away. Hermione smiled and held him tightly, wondering if dosing Draco's morning tea with a Calming Drought everyday until Harry could get things back under control would be too much of a hassle.