Agent Granger, CIA

CHAPTER III

"Masochist"

The automatic doors of the jail ward slid open as a platinum blonde man dressed in a smooth black suit and emerald green tie strode in. Two officers stopped him in the anteroom and ran a metal detector over him. Once passed, he continued to the counter.

"How may I help you?" the secretary asked through a plastic glass.

"I'm here to see to see Devlin Whitehorn," stated Draco, absently loosening his tie with one hand.

"Identification, sir?"

He pulled out a little badge and quickly flashed it to her.

"I need to scan it sir," the polite lady informed while he began tucking the ID away.

"What for?" Draco replied, irritated.

"Sir, it's CIA procedures. May I please see your badge?" she requested more firmly this time.

"Sure." He reached inside his suit jacket and flicked out his wand.

"I'd put that down Malfoy," warned a woman close behind him.

Draco laughed softly as he wheeled around. Hermione was standing patiently within arm length. His grin widened as his gray eyes fell on the bruise her face bore. "Granger, baby, purple suits you well," he provoked.

Hermione sneered, "Well, we're about to see how it fares on you..." She swung her right arm with the force of a sludge hammer and sent him onto all fours. Draco shook his aching head and wiped the left corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. There was a tiny spec of blood there, he growled and bounced up.

"You Bi--" he began ferociously, raising his arm.

"Ah, no," she interrupted like she was telling a kid not to put his toys in his mouth. "If you want to see Whitehorn, I wouldn't finish that sentence."

Draco scowled and clenched his fists. "And why would you help me, again?"

Hermione's smile faded as she gritted her teeth. "I'm not helping you, Malfoy." Not allowing him to respond, she brushed past his shoulder and checked in with the receptionist.

"Coming?" she asked as she held open the entrance to the cells. Malfoy exhaled angrily and reluctantly joined her.

**

"Mr. Malfoy!" Whitehorn exclaimed excitedly as his visitors entered his prison. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Shut up and sit down Whitehorn," Hermione demanded, pointing to a chair.

Devlin squinted his eyes with contempt. "I saved your life Mudblood, and this is how you repay me?"

"You know what Devlin? People think you're a good guy, someone who's kind, brilliant, and successful. I wonder how they'll react if I release this case to the public. I wonder how the little kids and parents who buy their brooms from your company will respond."

Devlin sat down obediently and glared at the table his arm was resting on. Draco took a seat across from him and set his jacket on the back of the his chair. "So how are you doing Whitehorn?" he asked.

"I'm in a prison that I can't buy myself out of Draco, how the hell do you think I'm doing?"

Draco smiled then winced as pain shot up from the edge of his lips. "I'm going to get you out, don't worry about it," he assured, gently touching the new bump.

"Oh really?" Hermione butt in. "And how exactly do you plan to do that Malfoy?"

"Through you, of course," he replied with a smirk. Hermione scoffed and laughed disbelievingly.

"Maybe in your dreams Malfoy."

"Oh we do a lot of things together in my dreams," he continued obnoxiously. Hermione took in a deep breath and counted back from ten. Draco grinned and returned to Devlin.

"Yup, you have nothing to worry about." He winked and stood up, slipping on his jacket. "Common Granger, let's get moving."

"Bye Mr. Malfoy!" Whitehorn waved as his benefactor disappeared through the door. Hermione threw him a nasty look before following.

**

Draco strutted out the prison ward behind Hermione. She led him through a dark exiting hallway.

"Alright Malfoy, you got what you want, you can go now," she told him without stopping or looking back.

"That's it?" he asked confusedly. "Wait Granger," he commanded, grabbing her wrist as it swung back rhythmically with her strides. Hermione, caught by surprise, didn't have time to respond until he had her pinned to the wall. A burst of pain shot through her arm, but the numbing feeling calmed her instead of hurt her. Draco pushed himself against her body and placed his lips next her ear.

"I know why you're helping me," he breathed, sending goosebumps across her neck. "But Ron's not going to come find you..." She felt his face widen into a grin as his soft cheek brushed against her own. She kept telling herself to knee him, but her mind seemed to be trapped in a hypnotic state, allowing her to do nothing but accept his harassment. He reached down and gently pried open her right hand and pressed his warm fist in it. "It's been a pleasure, Mudblood," he whispered, then he disapparated. Hermione slacked against the wall and breathed rapidly to slow her heart down. She put a hand to her chest and opened the one that Draco had tainted; she found two glass vials lying peacefully in her palm.

**

"Morning Ron," Draco greeted as he walked into the kitchen.

"Morning," he grunted in return, flipping a page of the Daily Prophet. "Where were you on this fine Sunday morning?" he asked, stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of eggs.

"Nowhere," Draco sang, pulling a bowl out of the cupboard.

Ron swallowed and turned his head. "You're awfully cheerful."

Draco grinned. "I know! I am, aren't I?" he replied, trying to decide what he was going to eat for breakfast. "I think I'll try some Muggle food today," he made up his mind, pulling out a box of Cheerios.

Ron raised an eyebrow in concern and watched incredulously as Draco poured milk into his bowl and started chomping the cereal down. "What happened to your face?"

"Huh?" Draco uttered, milk dripping out of his mouth. "Oh, that. Granger gave me an early birthday present."

Ron frowned. "You went to see her again?"

"No. I went to see Whitehorn, but she just couldn't stay away." He chuckled to himself as he continued slurping his breakfast.

"Draco, I don't want you to go back there anymore. What if she finds us?"

"You worry too much. I have things under control..."

"Wait a second," Ron said, closing his papers. "You just went to see Whitehorn, and you ran into Hermione; why are you so happy again?"

Draco shrugged. "I don't know. And quit questioning me, you're starting to make me nervous. If Granger does what I want her to do, she'll be so off track from getting us that she won't even know it."

**

Hermione sighed exhaustedly as she plopped down on her queen sized bed at home. It's been a full three days since she's laid foot in her apartment. Snuggling with the teddy bear Jordan gave her for Christmas last year, she settled herself down for the first time since the Cardon case and thought things through.

Cardon is Malfoy's experiment, and Whitehorn is his right hand. Ron is obviously still very good friends with Malfoy, and has been a werewolf since our last year at Hogwarts. She tossed herself to face the window. She didn't want to believe what Jordan had reported to her last night; she wasn't going to believe it until she saw it for herself. Letting her heavy eyes shut, she drifted off to the first beneficial nap she's had in days.

**

Jordan knocked lightly on Hermione's door. No response. "Hermione!" he called. Silence. He sighed and began pounding her door. She's gotta be sleeping, he thought. "Always sleeps like a damn pig," he muttered to himself as he pulled out a key from the small duffel he was carrying. "I'm coming in!" he hollered.

Click. The lock opened and he turned the knob, entering as quietly as possible. Her room was a mess; to his right was a small kitchen whose stove had every size pot and pan on it, all of them dripping with molded goo.

"Ugh." He cringed as he observed the apartment. On his left was a small study room, where books and papers scattered both tables and floor. He was afraid to continue in this jungle, but did so anyway. Her living room had clothes thrown all over it, including a bright pink bra that made the brown leather sofa rather attractive. He headed for her room and heard her soft whistling. He smiled as he watched her wrinkle her nose and hide her face in her pillow. Looking at his watch he decided she could have another half hour of rest.

Hermione awoke to clanking sounds and running water. Alarmed, she grabbed a robe and slipped out of her bed. She picked up a bat from her closet and walked out of her room.

"Don't move!" she screamed at the unidentified person standing at her kitchen sink. Jordan froze and looked around innocently.

"Is this why no one washes your dishes...?"

Hermione let out an extremely relieved sigh and unarmed herself. She smiled and walked over to kiss him on the cheek. "Thanks Jordan."

He blushed and grinned. "Don't get used to it."

"So what are you doing here?" she asked, sitting down, not bothering to relieve him from his job. He resumed scrubbing the pots in the sink.

"Why am I ever here?" he asked with a bit of sadness.

"No way Jordan," she whined. "It's SUNDAY! Day of rest! What is wrong with those people?!"

He laughed. "Well, if the bad guys would stop being such pains in our ass, we wouldn't have to work 24/7. Plus, this case sounds fun, so don't get too deflated."

"Fun? Whenever things are 'fun' it always ends up with one of us running for our lives."

"No, no, this one's not like that, trust me," he said as he wiped his hands on a soft drying cloth he found on top of the fridge. He handed her a blue folder from his bag. "There's a man going around claiming that he can make people forget the worst moments of their life, and well, the people who go to him, they do indeed forget their worst memories, but then another memory becomes their worst memory, and pretty soon, they've asked him to wipe out their whole past. So we want to find and 'contain' him. We can't harm him, technically, because the victims allow him to do his mojo; so he's done nothing wrong."

"You're going to volunteer to do this one right?" Hermione smiled innocently.

"Hahahah, you wish! I did Whitehorn, this one's all yours! Think of it as a celebration for getting your magic back tonight!" Jordan waved then disapparated. Hermione whimpered as she browsed through the papers describing the brainwashing man. It was three o' clock. She decided to go visit the mystery man at seven, when, as Jordan had said, the Ministry would return her wiccan rights. But right now, she was going to find Ron.

**

"Hermione?! Oh my god! Come in!" Ginny greeted, swinging the door of the Burrow open. Although the Weasley family was wealthy now, thanks to Fred and George's Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, their home was still humble.

Hermione hugged Ginny, it's been so long since she's reached out to old friends. They sat in the kitchen to have a cup of tea.

"Mum and dad went on vacation again, so I'm the only one home right now," Ginny told her as she sipped her drink.

Hermione nodded and looked around. "God, it's been forever since I've been here."

"I know! It hasn't changed that much; just replaced old furniture and added a couple gadgets here and there, but most of it's the same."

Hermione smiled as the Weasley clock caught her eye. It was relocated next to the door. She noticed that there were only five spoons on it now. She knew Percy had been removed during seventh year, but Ron was still there the last time she checked. "What happened to Ron?" she asked, pointing to the clock.

"Oh, he removed himself the night he came home to tell us that he was going to go live with Malfoy." She sighed angrily and clenched her jaw. "You know, I just can't believe him. He used to always criticize Percy for what he did, but he ended up following in his shoes!"

Hermione looked down sorrowfully and took Ginny's hand in her own. "Have you seen Ron lately?"

Ginny discreetly wiped away a couple of tears and laughed mirthlessly before she replied. "I only see him when mum and dad force me to go to the holiday parties that he and Malfoy arrange, they change the location every year. He writes though, I keep all his letters, but I never read them, nor do I reply. But he keeps sending them, at least once every week."

"Ginny...do you know if Ron...has he changed any?"

"Changed?! Of course he's changed! He was my favorite brother, and now I hate him! I HATE HIM!"

"Don't say that Gin," Hermione whispered, pulling the little red head into her arms. "He still loves you, and you him."

Ginny sobbed uncontrollably and clung onto Hermione like a life raft. "I just want him to come back...I just want things to return to the way the were, Hermione. I wish we never pushed him away..."

Hermione felt herself begin to cry. Why couldn't Ron see this? Why couldn't he just return and make everyone happy? Why did he have to be so stupid?!

**

Ron put down his quill and blew the violet ink dry; he knew purple was Ginny's favorite color. He reread the letter before sealing it.

For my beloved sister, Ginny.

How have you been lately? I worry about you everyday. Things are fine here with me, I wish I could go back and be the brother you deserve Gin, but things aren't that simple. I know you either don't read my letters or no longer care, but I wish you would. It hurts me to see you so disappointed in me. You barely looked at me during Christmas dinner. I know you think Malfoy is a foul creature, but he really isn't that bad. Well, he did pull this really annoying joke on me once...he cast an invisible shield over the toilet...and well, when I went, let's just say it wasn't a pleasant experience, he's a bloody annoyance sometimes. If mum and dad would just get along with his parents though, we could all be friends.

The truth is Gin...I'm sick. I'm very sick, and until I find a cure, I can't risk returning to you and everyone else. I'm trying my hardest to find the medicine. Draco is a big help to me. I hope you're doing well sis. Drop a dung bomb on Fred and George for me, and tell mum and dad I said hi. Take care.

Love always,

Your brother Ronald Weasley

Approving of it, he folded the parchment like usual and put a seal over it. He never stopped hoping that Ginny would read his letters, so he called for his owl and sent it away.

**

Hermione was about to leave when Pig flew through the door.

"Pig?!" she exclaimed, amazed that the old thing was still living and working.

"Another one of Ron's letters," Ginny sighed.

Hermione cupped Pig in her hands. "You know where he is, don't you Pig? I need to find him...won't you take me?"

Pig chirped excitedly and danced in her hands. "Is that a yes?!" Hermione asked excitedly, but then she felt someone clumpy and wet land on her palm. "Pig..." she scolded as she put him on the ground and washed off her hands.

Ginny giggled and picked up the letter that was dropped on the ground.

"Wait, Gin. Could you let me read that one?" she asked hopefully. "You don't have to read it, I just want to see how he's doing..."

Ginny shrugged and handed her the letter. "You can keep it, I'm running out of space in my drawer anyway."

Hermione gratefully took the folded piece of paper and smiled. "Thank you Ginny."

She nodded and sent Pig back out the door.

"Well, it's getting late, I have to go do some investigating now...and I don't have to ride on the Squire Broom for All Stranded Wizards to get back!"

Ginny laughed. "Good luck Hermione. Come by more often, won't you?"

Hermione nodded and hugged her again before disapparating.

**

Draco grinned as he sensed Hermione's trail for the first time that day. He was getting worried, she hadn't traveled by apparation for so long he thought maybe his powers were malfunctioning. But now he knew where she was, and since there was nothing pressing on his schedule, he followed her.

"Hey Granger," he greeted as they both materialized in front of a tent.

"Malfoy!" Hermione hissed, jumping at his sudden appearance. "Go away!"

"You know Granger, I've been wondering...why didn't you beat me up this morning?"

Hermione, annoyed, flashed him the eye. "You can pester me all you want later Malfoy, just get your butt out of here, now!"

A little man with a wizard's hat stepped out of the tent and opened his arms. "Why, hello, hello. I thought I heard somebody," he greeted merrily. "Have you come for my services?"

Draco recoiled in repulsion. "GRANGER! That's nasty! He could be your father!!"

The little man blinked in confusion. "So, you then, sir?"

"No, hell no," Draco replied, backing away. "She's all yours man, I'm not into that stuff."

The wizard blinked again. "But sir, I feel a strong vibe coming off of you, are you sure you don't want me to take a look?"

"YES, OKAY?" Draco barked. "Leave me and my genitals alone..."

"Oh yes...I see what you mean there. It's quite small isn't it?"

Draco turned red and marched away. "Wait, wait," the old man called. "I know what pains you...I can take that away."

Draco kept walking, ignoring the man and his crazy rambling. "Your worst memory is betraying your father and helping Harry Potter kill the Dark Lord!" he heard, then he stopped abruptly. How did he know that? How could he possibly know that? In revenge for Voldemort causing his mother to lose her mind, he secretly gave Harry a power boost while he was dueling with the Dark Lord, but no one knew that. He turned around slowly and looked at the man again.

"I wouldn't go around making up stories," he scowled, pulling out his wand.

"We both know I'm not making it up," the man replied calmly. "I can help you forget that memory..."

"Draco, don't--" Hermione began, unconsciously called him by his first name.

"Shut up, Mudblood, you have no say in this," he spat. "And don't you believe a word he just said. I'm not that good of a Samaritan."

"Come inside then," the man invited, holding a flap of the tent up.

"Malfoy, I said don't go in there!" Hermione shouted, but Draco had already crawled inside. The creepy wizard beamed victoriously at her and walked in through the small hole. Hermione waited outside while anxiety ate her up. Nothing had happened so far. Then, out of the clear blue, she heard the man wail in intense pain. Panicking, she pointed her wand at the little camp and blew it up. Draco seemed unconscious, but the wizard was still gripping his hands tightly, shrieking insanely.

"Stop!" Hermione yelled. "Let him go!" She punched the old man and pried his hands off Draco. At that instant, Draco's eyes flashed open as he fell back.

"Common, let's go," she hurried, grabbing Draco by the shirt and disapparating them both away.

**

She unintentionally transported them into her apartment, which Jordan had taken the liberty of cleaning for her. She pushed Draco on a couch and told him to sit still while she went to get him a glass of water. Jordan left a sticky note on her refrigerator:

Congratulations on a successful mission! See ya at work tomorrow. PS- Your clothes are in the dryer, washed and sorted. -Jordan

She smiled and removed the note.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Draco asked without warning.

Hermione jumped. "Merlin's beard, Malfoy! I thought I told you to stay in the living room."

"You called me Draco earlier."

Hermione turned slightly pink. "So?" she replied as casually as she could, grabbing a glass from her cabinet.

Draco stood behind her and deliberately placed his hand over hers. Hermione froze for a second as her heart skipped a beat. She could feel his chest calmly rise and fall against her back. Then he pulled the cup out of her hand and poured water into it himself.

"I can get my own cup," he muttered as he took a drink.

"Why are you doing this Malfoy?" she asked coldly, turning around to face him.

"Doing what?"

"Stop following me around, and keep your hands off of me."

Draco looked at her sincerely. "Is that what you really want?"

What?! Hermione thought to herself. Is he insane? Of course, that's what I want, that's what I've always wanted. "Yes," she replied without hesitation.

A quick shadow of disappointment flooded his eyes, but then he blinked and it was gone. "Alright." And he disapparated. Hermione groaned and slammed her fist into the counter.

If Draco was gone, the whole night had been wasted. She suddenly wished she was a Sectator too, but since she wasn't, she jumped from place to place, hoping Draco would be there. It was ten before she gave up. She checked every store in Knockturn Alley, every store in Diagon Alley, the old Malfoy Mansion (since no one knew where the new one was), every pub in the Wizarding world, and unfortunately, as a last resort, every strip club. She returned to her apartment and cursed herself for sending him away. Taking off her shoes, she began changing to get into her PJs.

"Been looking for me?" a voice intruded from shadows of her room. For the third time that day, Hermione started and quickly grabbed a coat to cover herself. Draco stepped into the light with a mischievous grin painted on his pointed face. "I must say, I'm insulted that you think I'd go to strip clubs."

"I said...stop following me," Hermione warned angrily, ready to slap him.

"Well, since *you* can't follow me, it's the only way we can contact each other..."

"I'm quite fine not 'contacting' you," she replied frostily.

"Unless if you need me, like tonight," Draco replied, smirking.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Turn around," she demanded.

"Why?"

"So I can put my clothes on you pervert!"

Draco looked down, obviously, he had been on some distant planet because he wasn't aware of her nakedness. He obediently faced his back towards her and rocked on his heels while he waited for her to change. "You know, you can change into your pajamas," he commented after a second or so.

"What?! How did you-you better not be peeking."

"Don't flatter yourself Granger, I just heard you pick up your pants, figured you were getting back into your work clothes."

"Well I'm not," she replied as-a-matter-of-fact-edly.

"Liar," he grinned. "I can hear better than I can insult okay? So why don't you be a good little girl and just jump into those nice soft sleeping clothes so I can get this over with and go home?"

"Get what over with?" she said, emphasizing 'what'.

"Helping you," he replied detachedly.

"And why would Draco Malfoy help a Mudblood?"

Draco grinned. "You see, it's when you call yourself a Mudblood that makes it seem alright for others to."

"Shut up Malfoy, why are you helping me?"

"Let's just say I'm doing it for a friend."

"Ron. Tell him I don't need your help or your stalking protection. I can take care of myself."

"He knows that. He just wants me to make sure you're not dating that dimwit cop you work with."

Hermione flushed bright pink. "Then why do you stop by so often? All you need to do is sense when he's in my office or here in my apartment."

Draco, stumped by that question, remained silent.

"Okay, I'm done. You can turn around."

"See? Much better," he replied, straightening her shirt for her.

"Hands. Off," Hermione glared.

"Watch your tone with me," Draco advised. "The only reason I'm being nice to you is because of Ron."

"You call this being nice?" she scoffed. "I don't know how many times you've called me Mudblood or physically hurt me..."

"It's not my fault you're such a Masochist," he spit back.

Masochist! Hermione echoed in her mind. "Oh my god! That's it! You just solved it!" she squealed, jumping up and down.

"What the hell are you on?"

"The man...the guy who erased your memory or whatever...he's a Masochist! I can't believe I forgot all about demons! He takes your most painful memories and suffers through them...because he enjoys it!"

"What?!" Draco exclaimed in confusion. "So you're saying, he takes my worst memories, makes them his own, then celebrates about the pain they give him?!"

"Draco, do you not know what a Masochist is?"

"Well, yeah, but most people that are Masochists enjoy pain directly inflicted on them, not other people's pain..."

"But he's making their pain his pain! Oh never mind, the important thing is, I figured it out."

"Hey, wait a second. I'm the one who figured it out!"

"What does it matter? You're not a CIA agent," she pointed out.

"Well..." Draco pouted. "That was my idea. You owe me one."

Hermione laughed then smiled as she caught his eye. "Thanks Draco."

Draco nodded and disapparated.

**

She continued to laugh silently to herself after she left. When she realized what she was doing, she immediately turned her feelings sour and scolded herself for treating Draco like a person. Being around him too much was bad for the both of them, she realized. Draco had gone a whole thirty minutes without making her want to sock him...and for some reason, that was extremely unnerving.

**

Draco grinned happily to himself as he jumped into bed. Things were going exactly as planned, Hermione went for the Masochist like a wasp to the flame. A couple more days and he would have her eating out of his palm.