Chapter Text
ONE YEAR LATER
“Morning, love,” Draco entered the kitchen of their cottage, scratched Stinky behind the ears, and kissed his fiancée on the cheek.
“Morning,” Hermione replied, wrapping her arms around his neck and pecking him on the lips. “I didn’t make tea, Ang and Susan wanted an early meeting, so I figured we could just have coffee in the shop.”
“Sounds good,” he said, giving her bum a squeeze before pulling away. “Did you get that good hazelnut syrup back in stock yet?”
“Yeah, it came in yesterday,” she nodded, pulling on her jacket. She looped her arm through his, scooped up Stinky, and they walked several blocks to the location of Pageturners used book and coffee shop, which occupied the first two floors of an old brownstone. The third floor was the offices of Potter Malfoy Investigative Consulting (they had argued about the order of the names for weeks before Hermione told them to flip a fucking coin or she would hex them).
Angelina and Susan were already in the closed shop, leaning on the counter and chatting with Pansy, who was plating biscuits in the display case. As they arrived, Harry came rushing down the stairs from his office.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, picking up Stinky and giving the cat a squeeze. Stinky hissed at him and darted off between the bookshelves.
“You’re not late,” Hermione said, glancing at her watch.
“Shh…” Draco whispered in her ear. “I reset his watch ten minutes fast the other day. It’s working, he’s almost always on time now. Don’t ruin it.”
“You’re diabolical,” she whispered back, beaming at him.
“So what’s this meeting about?” Hermione asked, slipping behind the counter to join Pansy, tying an apron around her. She started steaming milk for coffee with her wand, then summoned the hazelnut syrup for Draco. He winked at her.
“We have a case,” Angelina said. “And we think it might have Death Eater links.”
“Didn’t Smythe directly forbid you from consulting with our firm?” Draco asked.
“Yes,” Susan said. “But Smythe got sacked yesterday. Busby is the head Auror now. She gave us permission to consult with you immediately.”
“And she said she would take you both back as Aurors in a heartbeat,” Angelina chimed in.
“Not happening,” Harry said firmly. “But let’s see the case file.”
They spent an hour pouring over the file, theorizing on the case, verbally abusing Smythe, and eating most of the muffins in the display case.
***
That afternoon it was quiet in the shop. A steady rain fell outside the bay windows, and it was a bit chilly inside. Pansy made two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and joined Hermione, who was seated on the floor, lazily shelving books. Stinky snoozed in her lap.
“Oh, thanks, this is perfect,” Hermione pulled her sweater tighter around her, accepting the drink.
“I wish I could add some firewhiskey to it,” Pansy grumbled.
“You’re six months pregnant, Pans,” Hermione said.
“Thanks for the reminder,” Pansy said. “As if the bowling bowl below my tits wasn’t a clue.”
“As soon as you pop out the little angel, I’ll get you good and drunk. We’ll make Harry and Draco watch the baby,” Hermione said, placing a book in the correct spot.
“Do you remember the first night in Tokyo?” Pansy asked suddenly, her voice quiet. She turned a book over and over in her hands.
“Well, I think the first night, we both collapsed in exhaustion and I kept my wand in my hand all night because I didn’t trust you,” Hermione said, nudging Pansy with her shoulder.
“The second night, then,” Pansy rolled her eyes.
“We ate sushi, drank ridiculous amounts of saki, and decided to become a righteously vengeful assassin team,” Hermione said, sipping her hot chocolate.
“I’m glad we did,” Pansy said. “And I’m also really glad it’s over.”
“Me too,” Hermione agreed. “Although, have you noticed that the boys didn’t ever make us take that Unbreakable Vow that we promised? That we would never murder again?”
“Yes, I asked Harry about it a few months ago,” Pansy said. “He mentioned it to Draco right after we were freed. Draco smirked at him and said ‘I trust Granger.’ Harry thinks Draco just wants to keep your options open.”
“I love that man,” Hermione said. “He gets me.”
“But we’re not going to, right?” Pansy stroked her belly.
“Probably not,” Hermione hedged.
Pansy narrowed her eyes. They heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Hermione assisted Pansy to her feet as Harry and Draco strolled in.
“How’s the case coming?” Pansy asked, allowing her boyfriend to greet her belly, then kiss her cheek.
“Potter solved it already,” Draco said, plopping onto a sofa. Hermione plopped down next to him, and he slung an arm around her shoulder and stole a sip of her hot chocolate in one smooth move.
“No whipped cream?” He asked, disappointed.
“Too much sugar, darling. You consume far too much sugar,” she scolded, taking her mug back.
“I like a dangerous life,” he shrugged.
“How’d you solve the case in one day?” Hermione asked Harry, who was over in the parenting book section again.
“Mundungus Fletcher owed me a favor,” Harry said. “Once Ang pointed out that the victim was last seen in that sketchy market behind Knockturn Alley, I had Dung ask around. He gave me a few leads, and all signs pointed to Pikus Bagshot, great-grandson of Batilda Bagshot. Turns out he thought that Adais Flint killed Batilda, and went after Flint.”
“Look, honey, you’re an inspiration,” Draco teased Hermione.
“Susan and Ang took Bagshot into custody about half an hour ago,” Harry sighed.
“Did Flint actually kill Batilda?” Pansy asked. “Hermione and I looked into her death when we started out, it appeared to be Voldemort himself to us.”
“Susan doesn’t think it was Flint,” Draco said. “She and Ang are looking into it. Flint survived the attack, so they may be able to get some answers out of him.”
“If he did kill Batilda, and he survived…I still have those Maggie Thatcher masks…” Hermione had a glint in her eye that everyone recognized.
“No,” her three companions said firmly.