Work Text:
The Scars They Never Saw
The Ministry of Magic always felt different in autumn.
The enchanted ceiling above the Atrium mirrored the grey London sky, heavy clouds rolling lazily across it as rain tapped softly against invisible windows. Employees hurried across polished stone floors, robes swaying behind them as they disappeared into fireplaces or crowded around the golden lifts.
Monday mornings were always busy.
Olivia Potter barely noticed.
A weathered leather satchel rested against her hip, the strap worn from years of travel. She wore an oversized charcoal jumper beneath a dark green jacket that had seen better days, loose black trousers tucked into sturdy boots that still carried dried Romanian mud in their seams.
She didn't look like someone who worked for the Ministry.
She looked like someone who had spent more time in abandoned ruins than behind a desk.
Which wasn't far from the truth.
The folder tucked tightly beneath her arm contained nearly three months' worth of research, curse analyses, containment reports, witness statements, magical sketches and risk assessments.
Three months.
Three countries.
Two cursed tombs.
One nearly fatal expedition.
And now...
Everything had come to a halt because she needed one signature.
Harry Potter's.
She exhaled slowly.
"Morning, Potter."
Olivia looked up.
A wizard from Magical Law Enforcement offered a small nod as he passed.
"Back already?" another witch called from across the corridor. "I heard Romania nearly collapsed on top of your team."
Olivia shrugged.
"Only half of it."
The witch laughed.
Olivia didn't.
It wasn't a joke.
The collapse had left one Curse Breaker with a shattered leg and Olivia with another curse scar curling across the back of her left hand.
She pulled her sleeve down without thinking.
People knew her.
Not because she was famous.
Not because newspapers wanted interviews.
But because if a cursed object was too unstable, too dangerous or too unpredictable...
Someone eventually said,
"Send Potter."
She hated that.
Not because of the work.
Because every time she heard her surname, people expected someone else.
Harry.
Always Harry.
Even now, after years of building her own reputation, introductions usually went the same way.
"Potter?"
"Any relation?"
"Harry Potter?"
It had stopped bothering her years ago.
Or at least...
That was what she told herself.
The golden lift chimed softly as the doors opened onto Level Two.
The Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
The corridors here were quieter than the bustling Atrium below. Aurors moved with purpose, stacks of files floating beside them, conversations low and professional.
Olivia adjusted the folder beneath her arm.
Just get the signature.
Leave.
That was the plan.
She stopped outside an office door.
Harry Potter.
Senior Auror.
She stared at the brass nameplate for a moment longer than necessary.
A dozen memories flickered through her mind without permission.
"Harry's so brave."
"Harry will do great things."
"Why can't you be more like your cousin?"
"You're a Potter. Start acting like one."
She pushed them away.
She was twenty-five.
Not fifteen.
She knocked twice.
"Come in."
His voice hadn't changed much.
Olivia stepped inside.
Harry barely looked up.
His office was exactly what she'd expected, organized chaos. Stacks of reports covered one side of his desk, a steaming mug of coffee sat forgotten beside several unopened files, and a familiar pair of round glasses rested low on his nose as he finished writing something.
Only after another few seconds did he glance up.
"Olivia."
No smile.
No surprise.
Just acknowledgement.
She placed the folder on his desk.
"I need authorization."
Harry pulled the paperwork toward himself.
"What for?"
"The Blackwood investigation."
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
"I thought that case was closed."
"It isn't."
He opened the file, scanning the first page.
"You found something?"
"The artefact wasn't destroyed."
Silence.
Harry continued reading.
Olivia waited.
She hated waiting.
Especially when she already knew what the answer would probably be.
Harry turned another page.
"You've requested access to Evidence Vault Seven."
"Yes."
"That's restricted."
"I know."
"It requires approval from two departments."
"I already have the first signature."
She pointed toward the parchment.
"I need yours."
Harry read another page.
Then another.
His expression remained unreadable.
Finally, he leaned back in his chair.
"The reports are thorough."
"They should be."
"But..."
There it was.
Olivia folded her arms.
"...I'd like Robards to review it first."
Her jaw tightened.
"Why?"
"It's procedure."
"I've already waited three weeks."
"I know."
"No," she replied quietly. "You don't."
Harry sighed.
"Olivia..."
"I tracked that artefact across three countries."
"I've read the report."
"I nearly lost a member of my team."
"I know."
"I've done everything by the book."
"I know."
She laughed once.
A short, humourless sound.
"You keep saying that."
Harry set the folder down.
"What exactly are you asking me to do?"
"Sign it."
"You know I can't until-"
"Until someone else says it's okay?"
"It's protocol."
Olivia stared at him.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then she nodded once.
Slowly.
"Of course."
Harry frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means exactly what it sounds like."
"Olivia."
"No."
She picked the folder back up.
"I'm not doing this today."
She turned toward the door.
"Olivia."
She ignored him.
"Olivia."
Her hand closed around the handle.
"I said I'm not doing this today."
She pulled the door open.
Behind her, Harry pushed back his chair.
"Don't walk away from me."
She stopped.
Only for a second.
Then she continued into the corridor.
Footsteps followed immediately behind her.
Fast.
Determined.
She didn't have to look back to know he was there.
"I wasn't finished."
"No," she muttered, "you never are."
Several Aurors looked up from nearby desks as the two Potters walked past.
Olivia kept moving.
Harry caught up beside her.
"This isn't about the paperwork anymore."
She didn't answer.
"It hasn't been for a long time."
That made her stop.
She turned so quickly the folder nearly slipped from beneath her arm.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Harry faced her calmly.
"I'm saying you're angry before I even say anything."
"You delayed my investigation."
"I followed procedure."
"You always hide behind procedure."
"And you always assume the worst."
She stared at him.
Her pulse hammered in her ears.
"You know what?"
Harry waited.
"I'm tired."
"Of what?"
She let out a bitter laugh.
"Being compared."
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But she saw it.
"I've never compared you."
"No?"
Her voice remained quiet.
Almost too quiet.
"Everyone else did."
The corridor around them seemed to fall silent.
"You were the hero."
She took one step closer.
"You were the one everyone celebrated."
Another.
"You were always enough."
Harry opened his mouth.
She didn't let him speak.
"I spent my entire childhood trying to prove I wasn't just another Potter taking up space."
"Olivia..."
"You have no idea what that's like."
"You're right."
He answered honestly.
"I don't."
For the first time...
She didn't know what to say.
The honesty caught her completely off guard.
She looked away first.
"...Forget it."
She turned sharply.
And walked.
Fast.
Behind her she heard Harry sigh before following once more.
"Olivia."
"Just leave it."
"We're not done."
"Oh, we were done years ago."
She kept walking, frustration boiling beneath every step.
"Brilliant," she muttered under her breath.
"Always the bloody hero..."
She swung around one corner and her shoulder caught the edge of a narrow wooden table.
Everything happened at once.
The antique crystal vase perched on top wobbled violently.
Olivia's eyes widened.
"Oh, no..."
She lunged for it.
Her fingertips brushed cold glass.
Too late.
The vase tipped over the edge.
It hit the marble floor.
CRASH.
The sound echoed through the corridor.
Every conversation stopped.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Olivia closed her eyes.
"...Fantastic."
The crash echoed through the corridor like a spell gone wrong.
Crystal scattered across the polished marble floor, fragments skidding in every direction before everything fell eerily silent.
Olivia froze.
"...Bloody hell."
Every pair of eyes in the corridor landed on her.
Aurors.
Department assistants.
Witches carrying floating stacks of files.
Someone quietly muttered, "That sounded expensive."
Olivia pinched the bridge of her nose.
Of course.
Of course this had to happen today.
A soft click broke the silence.
The office door directly opposite the shattered vase opened.
Slowly.
Measured footsteps crossed the threshold.
Olivia looked up.
Draco Malfoy.
He wore dark Ministry robes tailored neatly over a charcoal waistcoat, sleeves rolled just enough to reveal pale forearms. His platinum blond hair was shorter than it had been during Hogwarts, perfectly kept without looking overly styled.
He stopped a few feet from the broken vase.
Grey eyes drifted over the shattered crystal.
Then to Harry.
Finally...
To Olivia.
He didn't say anything.
Not immediately.
His expression remained unreadable, though something flickered across his face as he took in the oversized jacket, worn boots and loose clothing that stood out sharply against the Ministry's usual polished appearance.
Then he noticed her hands.
Thin white scars crossed her knuckles.
Another curved around her thumb.
Not accidental.
His gaze lifted.
A pale scar disappeared beneath the collar of her jumper, climbing the side of her neck before vanishing beneath dark brown hair.
Curse scars.
Old ones.
Too many of them.
Far too many for someone who couldn't be older than twenty-five.
For a brief second, Draco forgot about the vase entirely.
Harry broke the silence first.
"...Sorry."
Draco finally looked away from Olivia.
"For the vase."
Draco glanced at the shattered remains.
"It survived the war."
Olivia closed her eyes.
"...You're joking."
"I wish I were."
A few nearby employees chuckled awkwardly.
Olivia wanted the floor to swallow her whole.
Harry rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
"I'll sort the paperwork."
"I'm sure you will," Draco replied evenly.
Silence settled again.
Harry looked at Olivia.
His expression had softened since their argument.
"We'll finish this conversation another time."
Olivia didn't answer.
She simply stared at the broken crystal scattered around her boots.
Harry waited another second.
When no response came, he sighed quietly.
Then he turned and walked away down the corridor.
His footsteps disappeared around the corner.
Only then did Olivia finally let out the breath she'd been holding.
"...Perfect."
She muttered the word mostly to herself.
Without another thought, she crouched down and reached for the largest piece of crystal.
A polished black shoe stepped into her line of sight.
"Leave it."
She looked up.
Malfoy.
"I broke it," she replied flatly.
"So?"
"So I'm cleaning it up."
His eyes flickered toward the razor-sharp edge in her hand.
"And slicing your hand open in the process."
Olivia glanced at the shard.
Only then did she notice how sharp it really was.
She shrugged.
"Wouldn't be my first scar."
The words were casual.
Almost careless.
But Draco's gaze lingered on the faded white lines crossing the back of her hand.
No.
It probably wouldn't.
Without another word, he drew his wand.
"Reparo."
The crystal fragments lifted from the floor before fitting together seamlessly, piece by piece, until the vase stood whole once more.
A second flick of his wand sent it gently back onto its wooden pedestal.
As if nothing had happened.
Olivia blinked.
"...That was considerably easier than I expected."
"There are advantages to not picking up broken glass."
She huffed a quiet laugh.
Barely audible.
The corner of Draco's mouth almost moved.
Almost.
He studied her for another moment.
"You should have let the maintenance staff handle it."
"I don't like leaving messes for other people."
"No?"
She shook her head once.
"No."
There was something oddly sincere about the answer.
No defensiveness.
No sarcasm.
Just fact.
Draco found himself looking at the scars on her hands again.
They weren't the scars of someone careless.
They were the scars of someone who kept going back.
Again.
And again.
Until there was more scar tissue than untouched skin.
"You work in the Department of International Magical Cooperation?"
Olivia looked surprised.
"Curse-Breaking Division."
"I know."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You've heard of me?"
"A few reports."
That was an understatement.
He'd read several incident summaries over the past few years.
Romania.
Albania.
Egypt.
Every report seemed to end the same way.
Lead Curse Breaker: Olivia Potter.
She stood, adjusting the satchel on her shoulder.
"Well..."
She glanced toward the now perfectly restored vase.
"...thank you."
It sounded almost foreign coming from her.
As though saying the words wasn't something she did often.
Draco inclined his head.
"You might want to avoid antique furniture for the rest of the day."
Olivia looked at him for a second.
Then, despite herself...
She smiled.
Small.
Quick.
Gone almost immediately.
"I'll do my best."
With that, she turned and walked down the corridor, disappearing into the stream of Ministry employees.
Draco remained where he was.
Watching until she vanished around the corner.
Only when she was gone did his eyes drift to a single sheet of parchment lying forgotten beneath the small table.
It must have slipped from her folder during the argument.
He bent down and picked it up.
Across the top, in neat Ministry lettering, were the words:
Olivia Potter
Senior Curse Breaker
Below it sat a list of previous assignments.
Romania.
Bulgaria.
Albania.
Norway.
Three entries were marked High Fatality Risk.
One was labelled Survivor - Sole Remaining Field Operative.
Draco stared at the page for several seconds.
"...Interesting."
For reasons he couldn't quite explain...
he hoped this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed.
The following morning arrived with another blanket of grey clouds hanging over London.
Rain streaked down the enchanted windows of the Ministry as employees hurried through the corridors with steaming mugs of coffee and overflowing folders tucked beneath their arms.
Olivia hadn't slept much.
The argument with Harry kept replaying in her head, followed closely by the image of an antique vase exploding across polished marble.
Brilliant.
Absolutely brilliant.
She sighed as she pushed open the door to the Curse-Breaking Division.
"Morning, Potter."
She looked up.
Her supervisor, Edmund Graves, stood outside his office with a thick file tucked beneath one arm.
"You made quite the impression upstairs yesterday."
Olivia groaned.
"So everyone knows?"
Graves raised an eyebrow.
"You broke a two-hundred-year-old Ministry vase outside Draco Malfoy's office."
"...When you say it like that..."
"It sounds worse?"
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Please tell me that's not why you wanted to see me."
A faint smile tugged at the older wizard's lips.
"No."
He motioned for her to follow.
"I received confirmation late yesterday evening."
Olivia frowned.
"Confirmation?"
"The Blackwood Artefact investigation has been reopened."
Her posture straightened immediately.
"What?"
"The request was approved."
She blinked.
"But Harry never"
"He wasn't the final signature."
He placed the thick file on his desk before sliding it towards her.
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement has decided the case requires legal oversight due to the amount of Dark Magic involved."
Olivia opened the folder.
Her eyes scanned the first page.
Then stopped.
Assigned Legal Consultant:
Draco Malfoy.
"...You're joking."
"I'm afraid not."
She looked back up.
"Why him?"
"Because he's one of the Ministry's leading consultants on Dark magical legislation."
"I know who he is."
"Then you know why he was assigned."
She closed the folder with a quiet thud.
"This is going to be... interesting."
Graves chuckled.
"I had a feeling you'd say that."
Two hours later...
Olivia stood outside the office she had unintentionally become familiar with.
Only this time...
She wasn't here to argue with Harry.
She knocked twice.
"Come in."
The office looked much the same as it had the previous day.
Books lined one wall from floor to ceiling, their worn spines dedicated almost entirely to Dark magic, cursed objects and post-war legislation.
Draco looked up from a report.
His expression remained calm.
"Potter."
"Malfoy."
She stepped inside, holding the investigation file against her chest.
"I've been told we're working together."
"So have I."
Neither of them looked particularly thrilled.
Draco gestured toward the chair opposite his desk.
"Sit."
She remained standing.
"I prefer standing."
His eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.
"I gathered."
For the first time...
A small smile threatened to appear.
She hid it quickly.
Draco noticed anyway.
He reached for the investigation file.
"The Blackwood Artefact."
Olivia handed it over.
"I've already reviewed most of the reports."
"I assumed as much."
"You nearly died retrieving it."
She blinked.
"You read that report too?"
"It was attached."
Olivia looked away.
"It wasn't my finest expedition."
"No."
His voice stayed level.
"It wasn't."
Silence settled between them as he turned another page.
Finally, he closed the file.
"The artefact isn't your biggest problem."
"It rarely is."
"The wizard you're tracking."
Her eyes met his again.
"You know about him?"
"I know enough."
Draco folded his hands together.
"Gregor Voss."
The name alone made Olivia's jaw tighten.
"He escaped custody four years ago."
"He also left three Curse Breakers in St. Mungo's."
"And you."
She instinctively rubbed the scar disappearing beneath the collar of her jumper.
"I was lucky."
Draco didn't answer immediately.
Instead...
He looked directly at the pale line tracing her neck.
"Was that from him?"
For a split second...
Olivia completely froze.
Almost nobody asked.
Most people looked.
Some stared.
Some pretended not to notice.
But no one actually asked.
She swallowed.
"...Yes."
The answer came quietly.
"He missed."
Draco held her gaze.
"I doubt he'd describe it that way."
A humourless smile crossed her lips.
"No."
"He probably wouldn't."
Another silence followed.
Not awkward.
Simply thoughtful.
Draco leaned back slightly.
"If Voss is involved, this investigation becomes considerably more dangerous."
"It already was."
"You still intend to continue."
It wasn't a question.
Olivia nodded once.
"I don't leave unfinished work."
"I've noticed."
She folded her arms.
"Are you trying to talk me out of it?"
"No."
His answer came immediately.
"I'm deciding how many backup teams we're taking."
She frowned.
"I work alone."
"I know."
"I don't need-"
"You do."
The interruption was calm.
Matter-of-fact.
Not dismissive.
"You've spent years surviving impossible situations."
He paused.
"Surviving isn't the same as being invincible."
Olivia looked away.
There it was again.
Someone trying to protect her.
She hated that feeling.
Not because it was kind...
Because it made her feel vulnerable.
"I'll manage."
"I'm sure you will."
Draco stood, retrieving his dark overcoat from the back of his chair.
"But you'll have me anyway."
She sighed dramatically.
"I was afraid you were going to say that."
One corner of his mouth lifted.
"I suspected as much."
For the briefest moment...
The tension eased.
Not completely.
Just enough.
Draco picked up the investigation file.
"Our first stop is Evidence Vault Seven."
Olivia nodded.
"The artefact hasn't moved."
"No."
He opened the office door.
"But if Gregor Voss is hunting it..."
His grey eyes met hers.
"...I'd rather we reach it before he does."
Without another word, they stepped into the corridor together.
Neither of them noticed the hooded figure watching from the opposite end of the hallway.
Hidden behind a newspaper.
Waiting.
Watching.
Smiling.
---
The Ministry's lower levels were noticeably quieter.
Evidence Vault Seven lay far beneath the busy departments, protected by layers of enchantments that hummed softly through the stone walls. The corridor was dimly lit, blue flames flickering inside iron sconces that hadn't been replaced in decades.
Olivia walked a step ahead of Draco.
She always walked ahead.
It wasn't arrogance.
It was habit.
Years of entering cursed ruins had taught her one simple rule:
If something went wrong, let it happen to the person who knew what to look for.
"You've done this before," Draco observed.
She glanced over her shoulder.
"What gave it away?"
"You haven't looked at the security seals once."
"I don't need to."
"You memorised them."
"I designed two of them."
That earned a small, almost impressed hum from Draco.
Interesting.
The Ministry had never mentioned that in the reports.
They reached an enormous iron door engraved with ancient runes.
Olivia placed a gloved hand against the cold metal.
The runes shimmered beneath her fingertips.
"Still stable," she murmured.
Draco watched carefully.
"You can tell just by touching it?"
She nodded.
"The enchantments vibrate differently when something has disturbed them."
"You can feel that?"
"It's easier than explaining it."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
Silence.
Then...
Her blue eyes opened.
"...Someone's been here."
Draco's posture straightened immediately.
"How recently?"
She crouched beside the door, brushing her fingers over the lowest rune.
"The magic is fresh."
"Fresh?"
"Within the last forty-eight hours."
His expression hardened.
"The vault hasn't officially been opened in nearly three weeks."
"I know."
She frowned.
"Which means whoever came here didn't use Ministry clearance."
Draco quietly reached for his wand.
"So they bypassed the wards."
"No."
Olivia shook her head.
"They copied them."
That caught his attention.
"Copied?"
She pointed toward one of the glowing symbols.
"See this?"
Draco stepped closer.
"The rune is perfect."
"It looks perfect."
She traced a faint crack with one fingertip.
"But whoever replicated it used modern spellcraft."
"...And the original?"
"Predates Hogwarts."
He looked at her.
"You noticed that from one glance."
She gave a small shrug.
"It's my job."
"No."
His grey eyes remained on the rune.
"It's your talent."
The words slipped out before he had the chance to stop them.
Olivia blinked.
Compliments had never sat comfortably with her.
She cleared her throat.
"We should keep moving."
Draco noticed the change of subject immediately.
He let it go.
For now.
The vault doors groaned open.
Rows upon rows of shelves stretched into darkness, each lined with enchanted containers, ancient relics and cursed objects secured behind shimmering protective barriers.
The air itself felt heavy.
Olivia inhaled slowly.
"There."
She pointed towards a black stone pedestal in the centre of the chamber.
Resting atop it...
...was an ornate silver box no larger than a jewellery case.
Its surface twisted with moving symbols that seemed to disappear whenever someone looked directly at them.
"The Blackwood Artefact," she said quietly.
Draco frowned.
"It looks harmless."
"It isn't."
She approached carefully.
Every movement was calculated.
Measured.
As though she'd rehearsed this hundreds of times before.
Draco stayed a respectful distance behind her.
Not because she needed supervision.
Because he trusted her judgement.
She crouched beside the pedestal, studying the protective ward surrounding it.
"Someone tampered with this."
"You said that outside."
"No."
She pointed again.
"This time I'm certain."
He followed her gaze.
One of the runes had been scratched.
Barely visible.
"So they tried to break the seal."
"They succeeded."
Draco looked sharply at the artefact.
"It's still here."
"Because they were interrupted."
Silence settled over the chamber.
Both of them realised the same thing at exactly the same moment.
"They're coming back," Draco said.
Olivia nodded once.
"Yes."
A faint scraping sound echoed somewhere behind them.
Both wands were raised instantly.
The room fell completely still.
Draco shifted almost instinctively, placing himself half a step closer to Olivia's side.
Not in front of her.
Beside her.
She noticed.
Strangely...
She didn't mind.
Usually she hated when people entered her space.
Usually she'd take another step away.
This time...
She stayed exactly where she was.
After several long seconds, a small brown rat darted out from beneath one of the storage shelves before disappearing through a crack in the wall.
Olivia let out a quiet breath.
"False alarm."
Draco lowered his wand.
"For now."
She nodded.
"For now."
As she turned back towards the artefact, Draco caught something else.
The faint tremble in her hand.
Not fear.
Exhaustion.
He'd seen soldiers shake like that after staying awake too long.
He remembered the reports.
Three weeks.
No completed investigation.
Multiple overnight searches.
He studied her for another moment.
"When did you last eat?"
Olivia didn't even look away from the artefact.
"I'm fine."
"I didn't ask if you were fine."
Silence.
"...This morning."
"You hesitated."
"I was thinking."
"You were deciding whether to lie."
That finally made her look at him.
A hint of amusement crossed her tired features.
"You're annoyingly observant."
"So I've been told."
She rolled her eyes before returning to the runes.
"I'll eat later."
"You said that with remarkable confidence."
"I mean it."
"Hm."
"What?"
"Nothing."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Malfoy."
"It's nothing."
She stared at him for another second.
"...You're planning something."
One corner of his mouth lifted.
"Maybe."
Before Olivia could ask another question, a faint pulse of dark magic rippled through the chamber.
The silver box...
Moved.
Not much.
Just enough for both of them to see it.
Olivia's expression vanished.
"Draco..."
He had already drawn his wand again.
"I saw it."
The artefact hadn't activated on its own.
Someone...
Had triggered it.
The silver box pulsed once.
Then again.
A slow ripple of dark magic spread across the chamber, crawling over the stone floor like ink spilling across parchment.
Olivia's entire posture changed.
Every trace of humour disappeared.
"Don't move," she said quietly.
Draco didn't.
"What triggered it?"
"I don't know."
Her answer came too quickly.
She stepped closer to the pedestal, wand raised, her bright blue eyes fixed on the intricate symbols twisting across the surface of the artefact.
The runes hadn't moved before.
Now they shifted constantly, rearranging themselves into patterns that refused to stay still.
Almost...
Like they were alive.
Draco watched from beside her.
"You've seen this before."
It wasn't a question.
Olivia hesitated.
"...Once."
"Where?"
She ignored him.
Instead, she carefully circled the pedestal, studying every inch of the protective wards surrounding it.
The silence stretched between them.
Draco had already realised something over the last twenty-four hours.
Whenever Olivia didn't want to answer...
She worked.
The more uncomfortable the question, the more focused she became.
She crouched beside one of the runes.
"It shouldn't be reacting."
"But it is."
"Exactly."
She frowned.
"The containment spell is intact."
"So something else is influencing it."
She nodded absentmindedly.
A faint scratching echoed somewhere deep within the vault.
Not a rat.
Not this time.
Both of them looked up.
The sound stopped.
Then...
A whisper.
Barely audible.
"...Olivia..."
She stiffened.
Draco looked at her immediately.
"You heard that?"
She didn't answer.
The whisper came again.
Soft.
Patient.
"...Olivia..."
Her grip tightened around her wand.
Draco had noticed something else.
The whisper hadn't echoed through the room.
It had echoed through her.
"Who's there?" Olivia called.
Nothing.
Silence.
Then every lantern inside the vault flickered at once.
The temperature dropped instantly.
The hairs on the back of Draco's neck stood up.
"This isn't the artefact," he said quietly.
"No."
Olivia's voice had become almost emotionless.
"It isn't."
A faint line of black smoke curled from beneath the silver box before drifting toward the far wall.
Draco followed it with his eyes.
The smoke stopped.
The stone wall trembled.
Slowly...
Letters began carving themselves into the ancient rock.
Not with magic.
As if invisible claws were scratching them into existence.
One letter at a time.
Olivia stopped breathing.
YOU STILL RUN WHEN YOU'RE AFRAID.
The message glowed faintly before the black letters settled into the stone.
Draco looked at it.
Then at Olivia.
She hadn't moved.
Her eyes remained fixed on the wall.
"You know what it means."
It wasn't a question.
"No."
She answered immediately.
Too immediately.
He studied her.
"You recognised it."
"I said no."
Her voice was sharper this time.
Before Draco could reply, another line carved itself beneath the first.
Slower.
Deliberately.
As though whoever was writing wanted Olivia to watch every single letter appear.
YOU NEVER LEARNED.
Her face paled.
A memory flashed across her mind.
Cold rain.
A ruined chapel.
Blood dripping from her fingertips.
A man's voice behind her.
"Run."
"That's all you're good at."
The memory vanished as quickly as it had come.
Draco noticed her breathing.
Fast.
Uneven.
"Olivia."
She blinked.
"I'm fine."
"No."
He took one careful step closer.
"You aren't."
She looked away.
"I'm handling it."
"I know you are."
His voice remained calm.
"But you're not handling it alone."
Something in those words caught her off guard.
For a split second...
She almost believed him.
Almost.
Then another pulse burst from the artefact.
This one was stronger.
A shockwave slammed into the protective wards, making the entire vault shudder.
Shelves rattled violently.
Ancient relics shook inside their enchanted cases.
One crystal orb toppled from its stand.
Without thinking...
Olivia moved.
She threw herself between Draco and the falling orb.
"Protego!"
The shield erupted just as the orb exploded against it.
Glass rained harmlessly across the floor.
Draco stared at her.
She hadn't even hesitated.
Her first instinct had been to protect him.
"You realise," he said, lowering his wand with the faintest hint of a smile, "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself."
Olivia finally looked back at him.
"So am I."
"I noticed."
One corner of his mouth lifted.
"It was... unnecessarily heroic."
She rolled her eyes.
"It was practical."
"Was it?"
"You were standing in the wrong place."
"So this is my fault now?"
A tiny smile tugged at her lips despite herself.
"Mostly."
"There she is."
She frowned.
"...Who?"
"The woman who smiled yesterday."
She looked away almost instantly.
"I didn't smile."
"You did."
"I absolutely didn't."
Draco folded his arms, the ghost of a smirk still lingering.
"I have an excellent memory."
"And an even bigger ego."
"I won't argue with that."
For the first time since entering the vault...
Olivia laughed.
Quietly.
Genuinely.
It only lasted a second.
Neither of them noticed the tiny black wisp of smoke slipping beneath the vault door.
Somewhere else in the Ministry...
A hooded figure stood motionless in an empty corridor.
Gregor Voss smiled beneath the shadows of his hood.
"Good," he whispered.
"You're finally paying attention."
He turned and disappeared before anyone saw him.
The investigation consumed the next three days.
Sleep became an afterthought.
Meals became optional.
Olivia barely noticed either.
The Ministry archives had become their second home, old case files and cursed artefacts covering nearly every table. Ancient books lay open beside hastily scribbled notes, while maps of Eastern Europe were pinned to a nearby wall.
Draco had long since stopped asking if she wanted a break.
The answer was always the same.
"I'm fine."
She never was.
"You're bleeding."
Olivia didn't even look up from the rune she was translating.
"It'll stop."
"It hasn't."
"It always does."
Draco sighed quietly before walking around the table.
Only then did she glance down.
A thin line of blood ran across the back of her hand where she'd caught herself on a jagged edge of an enchanted stone fragment.
She frowned.
"...Didn't notice."
"I did."
She reached for another file.
Draco caught her wrist before she could.
She looked up immediately.
"What are you doing?"
"Stopping you."
"It's just a scratch."
"It isn't."
"It really is."
"Olivia."
She froze.
It was the first time he'd used her first name without thinking.
Neither of them mentioned it.
He gently turned her hand over, examining the wound.
"This wasn't caused by glass."
"No."
"It reacted to Dark Magic."
"...Yes."
"You should've said something."
She gave him a tired smile.
"I've had worse."
"I know."
That answer made her pause.
He knew.
Because he'd read every report.
Every injury.
Every mission.
Every near death.
Without another word, Draco pulled a small vial from his desk drawer.
Essence of Dittany.
"I can do it myself."
"I'm aware."
He uncorked the bottle anyway.
"So let me."
Olivia watched him in silence as he carefully poured a few drops over the cut.
The skin knitted together almost instantly.
His touch was steady.
Gentle.
She wasn't used to gentle.
"There."
He stepped back.
"You'll live."
"I was planning on it."
"I'd appreciate it if you continued doing so."
She looked at him for a moment.
"...Was that concern?"
One corner of his mouth lifted.
"Don't let it go to your head."
Despite herself...
She smiled.
A loud rumble echoed outside.
Rain hammered against the Ministry windows.
Draco checked the clock.
Nearly nine in the evening.
"The Ministry closes in twenty minutes."
Olivia blinked.
"It does?"
"You've been reading the same page for fifteen minutes."
"I have not."
"You've been holding it upside down."
She looked down.
The page was, in fact, upside down.
"...I blame exhaustion."
"I blame stubbornness."
"That's fair."
Draco closed the nearest file.
"That's enough for today."
"No."
"That wasn't a suggestion."
"We're close."
"So close that you're forgetting how books work."
She opened her mouth to argue.
Her stomach growled.
Loudly.
The silence that followed was almost painful.
Draco looked at her.
She looked determinedly at the ceiling.
"...That was the building."
"It sounded remarkably hungry."
"I skipped lunch."
"You skipped breakfast."
She slowly looked back at him.
"...How do you know that?"
"I brought you breakfast."
"Oh."
"You thanked me."
"I did?"
"You weren't awake enough to remember."
Heat crept into her cheeks.
"That's embarrassing."
"A little."
She sighed dramatically.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"...You're very confident."
"I've always been told it's one of my better qualities."
She laughed quietly.
"You really are impossible."
"And yet you keep working with me."
"I don't exactly have a choice."
"Hm."
He gathered the files into a neat stack before slipping the most important ones into a leather satchel.
"The Ministry is closing."
"I'll just take these home."
"So will I."
She frowned.
"You?"
"My flat is closer."
"And?"
"And I'd rather not leave you alone with cursed documents while you're running on approximately two hours of sleep."
"I'm perfectly capable."
"You held a file upside down."
"...Once."
"You also nearly cursed yourself this afternoon."
"That wasn't intentional."
"I should hope not."
She folded her arms.
"You're annoyingly persistent."
"I've heard that before."
He picked up his coat.
"I also cook."
Olivia stared at him.
"...Are you bribing me with food?"
"I'm bribing you with edible food."
"I can cook."
"When was the last time you did?"
Silence.
Draco raised an eyebrow.
"...Exactly."
She let out a defeated sigh.
"I can't believe this is working."
"It usually does."
"You sound very pleased with yourself."
"I am."
She rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she grabbed her satchel.
"Fine."
"Excellent."
"But if your cooking is terrible..."
"It isn't."
"..."
"...You'll simply have to compliment me."
She snorted.
"You're unbelievably cocky."
Draco opened the office door for her.
"So I've been told."
As they disappeared down the now-empty corridor, neither of them noticed the folded piece of black parchment lying on Olivia's abandoned desk.
It hadn't been there five minutes earlier.
Across the front, written in familiar handwriting, were only five words.
You're getting slower, Olivia.
No signature.
None was needed.
---
The rain hadn't stopped.
By the time Draco and Olivia stepped out of the Ministry, London was wrapped in darkness, the streets glistening beneath enchanted streetlamps.
Olivia pulled her jacket a little tighter.
"You know," she said, "I was perfectly capable of feeding myself."
Draco glanced sideways at her.
"Were you?"
"I've managed for twenty-five years."
"I'm sure you have."
"..."
"You've also forgotten to eat for at least two days."
She frowned.
"I ate yesterday."
"You had coffee."
"It counts."
"It really doesn't."
She muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like insufferable.
The corner of Draco's mouth twitched.
"I heard that."
"I wanted you to."
His flat was nothing like she'd imagined.
No extravagant chandeliers.
No marble staircases.
No portraits staring from the walls.
Instead...
Warm lighting.
Dark wooden shelves overflowing with books.
A crackling fireplace.
A worn leather sofa that looked like it had actually been used.
It felt...
Comfortable.
Unexpectedly so.
Olivia quietly set her satchel beside the dining table.
"You can stop looking around," Draco called from the kitchen.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm judging your decorating skills."
"And?"
She glanced towards the bookshelves.
"...I've seen worse."
"I'll consider that a compliment."
"You shouldn't."
A quiet chuckle escaped him.
She wasn't sure she'd ever heard Draco Malfoy laugh.
It suited him.
More than she'd expected.
The smell of garlic and herbs slowly filled the apartment.
Olivia sat at the dining table, another file spread open before her.
Her eyes scanned the same paragraph four times.
Nothing stayed in her head.
She was exhausted.
"You've been reading that page for six minutes."
She looked up.
"I have not."
"You have."
"I was thinking."
"You were staring."
"I can do both."
Draco placed a bowl of pasta in front of her.
Steam curled into the air.
Her stomach growled immediately.
Traitor.
"I told you I can cook."
She picked up her fork cautiously.
"If this poisons me..."
"I'll apologise."
She took one bite.
Paused.
Then another.
Draco watched with quiet satisfaction.
"...Don't."
"What?"
"Look so pleased with yourself."
"I warned you."
"It's annoying."
"It usually is."
She shook her head, unable to hide the tiny smile tugging at her lips.
"This is actually good."
"I know."
"There it is."
"What?"
"The ego."
"I prefer confidence."
"You would."
For a while...
Neither of them spoke.
The silence wasn't awkward.
Only peaceful.
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
The fire crackled.
For the first time in what felt like years...
Olivia wasn't thinking about cursed artefacts.
Or Gregor.
Or Harry.
She was simply...
Existing.
Draco noticed her slowing down.
The fork rested loosely in her hand.
Her eyelids became heavier with every passing minute.
"You look exhausted."
"I'm fine."
"You've said that twelve times since yesterday."
"I have not."
"I counted."
She rolled her eyes.
"You really need a hobby."
"I have one."
"Oh?"
"I annoy you."
"...That's not a hobby."
"It has become one."
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
Real.
Unforced.
Draco smiled.
"There it is again."
"What?"
"The smile."
"I wasn't smiling."
"You absolutely were."
She pointed her fork at him.
"You're impossible."
"And yet..."
He leaned back slightly, a cocky grin appearing for the briefest moment.
"...you keep laughing."
Olivia opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
"...Shut up."
"I win."
"You absolutely do not."
He looked far too pleased with himself.
Later that evening...
The files had somehow found their way back onto the table.
Olivia rested her chin against one hand, reading another report.
Or trying to.
The words blurred together.
Draco returned from the kitchen carrying two mugs of tea.
He stopped.
She'd fallen asleep.
Head resting on folded arms.
One hand still loosely holding a quill.
He quietly set the mugs down.
For a long moment...
He simply looked at her.
Without the guarded expression.
Without the sarcasm.
Without the walls she'd spent years building.
She looked...
Young.
Far younger than the woman described in countless Ministry reports.
He carefully removed the quill from her fingers.
She didn't stir.
Then he gently slid the file away before draping a folded blanket over her shoulders.
"...You work too hard," he murmured.
"You'd fit right in with the Aurors."
A sleepy voice answered him.
"I heard that."
His eyebrows lifted.
"I thought you were asleep."
"I was."
"You've mastered unconscious eavesdropping."
She smiled without opening her eyes.
"...Five more minutes."
"You said that yesterday."
"I did?"
"You were asleep then too."
She gave a quiet hum.
Somewhere between agreement and surrender.
Five minutes became almost an hour.
Olivia blinked awake.
The apartment was darker now.
The fire had burned lower.
She sat up suddenly.
"What time is it?"
Draco looked up from the book he'd been reading.
"Nearly midnight."
Her eyes widened.
"Oh, Merlin."
She stood so quickly the blanket slipped to the floor.
"I have to go."
"There isn't a rush."
"There is."
She hurriedly gathered her satchel.
"I've got notes at home."
"You need sleep."
"I'll sleep later."
"You always say that."
She looked at him apologetically.
"...Thank you."
"For dinner."
"For... this."
His expression softened.
"You don't have to thank me for making sure you eat."
She hesitated.
"...I'm not used to someone noticing."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Silence followed.
Draco didn't tease her.
Didn't smile.
He simply picked up his coat.
"I'm walking you home."
She sighed.
"Draco..."
"No."
"It's unnecessary."
"Probably."
"You don't have to."
"I know."
He opened the front door.
"I'm still coming."
She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head with a quiet laugh.
"You're incredibly stubborn."
"So I've been told."
The streets were almost empty.
Rain had slowed to a drizzle.
They stopped outside Olivia's apartment building.
She turned towards him.
"I'm fine from here."
"I'll walk you up."
"Draco..."
"Humour me."
She studied his face.
There wasn't pity there.
Only quiet certainty.
"...Fine."
They climbed the narrow staircase together.
Olivia unlocked the apartment door.
Something...
Felt wrong.
She couldn't explain it.
The air was colder than it should have been.
Too still.
Her instincts screamed.
"Stay back."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Draco's wand was already in his hand.
Olivia slowly pushed the door open.
The living room was dark.
Silent.
Then...
A familiar voice drifted through the shadows.
"You're late."
Olivia froze.
Every ounce of colour drained from her face.
A figure stepped into the pale moonlight filtering through the window.
Tall.
Hooded.
Smiling.
Gregor Voss.
His eyes never left Olivia.
"I've been waiting."
Draco instinctively moved half a step closer.
Gregor noticed.
His smile widened.
"So..."
His gaze travelled between them.
"...you finally found someone."
He laughed quietly.
"It won't last."
Olivia tightened her grip on her wand.
"Leave."
Gregor ignored her.
"They all leave eventually."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Just like your family."
The words hit harder than any curse ever could.
"You were never worth staying for."
The room fell deathly silent.
Draco looked at Olivia.
For the first time...
He saw the confident Curse Breaker hesitate.
Just for a heartbeat.
Gregor smiled.
He'd found the one wound no curse had ever reached.
And then...
Gregor's wand rose slowly.
"So," he said almost conversationally, "let's see how much you've learned."
The first curse came without warning.
"Confringo!"
The spell exploded through Olivia's living room.
"Protego!"
Olivia's shield barely formed in time. The force threw her backwards into the hallway wall, books tumbling from the shelves beside her.
Draco was already moving.
"Expelliarmus!"
Gregor deflected it lazily.
"You must be Malfoy."
His voice carried amusement.
"I expected... more."
Draco didn't answer.
He fired another curse instead.
Gregor blocked it effortlessly.
Then smiled.
"You don't know her."
His eyes never left Olivia.
"But I do."
Olivia pushed herself upright.
Blood trickled from a fresh cut above her eyebrow.
"I'm warning you..."
Gregor laughed.
"You've been warning me for six years."
Dark magic erupted from his wand.
The room shook violently.
Windows shattered.
Furniture splintered.
Olivia rolled beneath the spell, sending a chain of blue curses toward Gregor's legs.
Unlike an Auror...
She wasn't trying to arrest him.
She was trying to limit his movement.
Gregor recognised the technique immediately.
"A Curse Breaker's favourite."
He vanished before the spell reached him.
Draco's eyes widened.
"Behind you!"
Olivia spun.
Too late.
A violent curse slammed into her shoulder, throwing her across the room.
She crashed into the dining table.
Wood cracked beneath the impact.
"Olivia!"
"I'm fine!"
She wasn't.
Pain exploded through her left arm.
She forced herself back to her feet anyway.
Gregor smiled.
"There she is."
"The girl who refuses to stay down."
Draco stepped beside her.
"Can you move your arm?"
"Yes."
She lied.
He knew it instantly.
Gregor knew it too.
"You never could admit when you were hurt."
His smile faded.
"You know why I always liked you, Olivia?"
She gripped her wand tighter.
"I never asked."
"You never stopped trying."
His voice became quieter.
"Even after your family decided you weren't worth keeping..."
Draco glanced at Olivia.
Her breathing changed.
Just enough for him to notice.
Gregor saw it too.
"Oh..."
"There it is."
"The truth still hurts."
"You spent your whole childhood trying to become someone they'd finally choose."
Olivia's jaw clenched.
"Shut up."
"But they never did."
"Shut up."
"So you became a Curse Breaker."
His smile widened.
"You thought scars would finally make someone notice you."
"SHUT UP!"
Her spell exploded from her wand.
Gregor blocked it.
The apartment shook again.
Fragments of plaster rained from the ceiling.
"You've always been predictable."
He tilted his head.
"Worthless little Olivia."
The words hit harder than any curse.
For one brief second...
She froze.
Not because she believed him.
Because she'd heard it before.
Too many times.
Gregor took advantage immediately.
A streak of dark green magic shot across the room.
Draco reacted before he had time to think.
"Olivia!"
He shoved her sideways.
The curse missed her by inches.
Instead, it struck the wall behind them.
The stone blackened instantly.
Silence.
Draco looked at the mark.
Then back at Gregor.
"You were trying to kill her."
Gregor almost looked offended.
"Of course I was."
Rage flickered across Draco's face.
It disappeared just as quickly.
When he spoke again...
His voice was calm.
Deadly calm.
"You picked the wrong flat."
Gregor laughed.
"You think the two of you can stop me?"
"No."
Draco stepped forward.
"I know we can."
He looked sideways.
Not at the enemy.
At Olivia.
She was still staring at the floor.
Still hearing Gregor's words.
Still fighting memories instead of the man standing in front of her.
Quietly...
Draco spoke.
"Olivia."
Nothing.
He tried again.
"Look at me."
Slowly...
Her bright blue eyes met his.
"You don't have to prove anything."
She swallowed.
"He doesn't decide your worth."
The room seemed to disappear.
Only his voice remained.
"You never had to earn the right to exist."
Something inside her cracked.
Not in a way that broke her.
In a way that finally let something go.
Her breathing steadied.
She looked back at Gregor.
Not with anger.
With certainty.
"I survived you once."
Gregor's smile faded.
"I'll survive you again."
He raised his wand.
So did she.
This time...
Draco stood beside her.
Not behind.
Not in front.
Beside.
Olivia understood immediately.
No words were needed.
She launched the first spell.
Gregor blocked.
Exactly as she'd expected.
Draco's curse struck from the side, forcing Gregor to dodge.
Olivia was already moving.
She wasn't fighting alone anymore.
Every attack had a purpose.
Every movement created an opening for Draco.
Gregor realised it too late.
"They're synchronising..."
Olivia smiled for the first time during the fight.
"Exactly."
A complex Curse Breaker's binding spell wrapped around Gregor's wand arm.
He tried to tear free.
Draco didn't give him the chance.
"Incarcerous!"
Magical ropes burst from his wand, pinning Gregor against the shattered wall.
His wand clattered onto the floor.
Within seconds, Ministry emergency alarms echoed through the building.
Gregor struggled.
"You think you've won?"
Olivia stepped forward despite the pain in her shoulder.
"No."
She looked him straight in the eyes.
"I think you finally lost."
Heavy footsteps thundered up the stairwell.
Aurors flooded into the apartment.
Gregor was restrained before he could cast another spell.
Only when the room finally became quiet...
Did the adrenaline disappear.
Olivia blinked once.
Twice.
Her wand slipped from her fingers.
The pain hit all at once.
Her legs gave out.
She expected to hit the floor.
Instead...
Strong arms caught her.
Draco.
"I've got you."
She closed her eyes briefly.
"...I know."
Those two words surprised both of them.
Moments later another familiar voice echoed from the doorway.
"Olivia!"
Harry.
He rushed inside before stopping dead in his tracks.
The apartment was destroyed.
Gregor was in custody.
Draco was supporting Olivia's weight.
Only then did Harry really see her.
The torn sleeve.
The old curse scars crossing her hands.
The pale line running along her neck.
The fresh wound bleeding through her shoulder.
And the exhaustion she'd been hiding for years.
His expression crumpled.
"...Liv."
She looked up at him.
For the first time since they were children...
Harry didn't see the stubborn girl who argued with him.
He saw someone who had been carrying far too much on her own.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I'm sorry."
Silence.
Olivia searched his face.
She believed him.
Not because of the words.
Because this time...
He had finally seen her.
A tired smile crossed her lips.
"So am I."
Draco looked between them, saying nothing.
He simply adjusted his grip slightly, making sure Olivia stayed steady on her feet.
For the first time in years...
She wasn't standing alone.
Epilogue
Three Months Later
The Ministry felt lighter.
Maybe it was because Gregor Voss was finally behind the reinforced walls of Azkaban.
Maybe it was because the Blackwood investigation had officially been closed.
Or maybe...
Olivia simply wasn't carrying everything alone anymore.
She stepped out of the lift onto Level Two, a familiar folder tucked beneath her arm.
"Morning, Potter."
"Morning."
She smiled.
Actually smiled.
The witch behind the reception desk blinked in surprise before smiling back.
That hadn't happened often.
Not before.
Olivia made her way through the corridor until she reached the office whose door she now knew by heart.
She didn't bother knocking.
Draco looked up from the report spread across his desk.
"Breaking into offices now?"
"You leave your door open."
"I was expecting someone."
"Oh?"
"You."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Confident."
"I've been called worse."
She closed the door behind her.
"So have I."
He leaned back comfortably in his chair.
"I heard Graves has already sent you on another assignment."
"He has."
"And?"
"I accepted."
"I'm shocked."
She laughed quietly.
"I knew you were going to say that."
"I know."
"You've become predictable."
"I prefer consistent."
She walked over to his desk and dropped a folder in front of him.
"You still need to approve these."
Draco glanced at the paperwork before signing it without even reading the title.
Olivia stared.
"You didn't even look."
"I trust you."
The words were so simple.
So effortless.
Yet they hit harder than either of them expected.
Olivia looked down at the signed parchment.
"...That's dangerous."
"Probably."
"You should read things before signing them."
"I did once."
"And?"
"It was terribly overrated."
She rolled her eyes.
"I can't tell if you're joking."
"I rarely can either."
She laughed again.
Draco noticed something.
She laughed more now.
Not often.
But more.
He liked that.
"So," he said, setting his quill aside.
"When do you leave?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"For how long?"
"A week."
"Hm."
She folded her arms.
"That's all?"
"What were you expecting?"
"I don't know."
"You sound disappointed."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm really not."
He smiled.
"You're terrible at lying."
"So I've been told."
Silence settled between them.
Comfortable.
Easy.
Something neither of them would've believed possible a few months ago.
Draco rested one elbow on the arm of his chair.
"Try not to get cursed this time."
"I'll see what I can do."
"And eat."
"I do eat."
"When reminded."
"I don't need reminding."
He looked at her.
She looked back.
Neither of them spoke.
Then...
"You skipped breakfast."
Her eyes widened.
"...How do you know that?"
"You walked straight past the Ministry café."
"That's hardly evidence."
"You also have coffee instead of tea."
"..."
"You only do that when you haven't eaten."
Olivia narrowed her eyes.
"You're annoyingly observant."
"I've been practising."
"On me?"
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
"I certainly did."
She shook her head, smiling despite herself.
"I think you enjoy proving me wrong."
"I enjoy watching you realise I'm right."
She laughed, pointing a finger at him.
"Your ego is unbelievable."
"My ego is perfectly reasonable."
"It absolutely isn't."
"It is."
"It..."
She stopped.
Draco frowned slightly.
"What?"
Instead of answering...
She stopped beside his chair.
Close enough that Draco had to tilt his head slightly to look up at her.
He searched her face.
"You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one that usually ends with paperwork."
She smiled.
"No paperwork today."
"Good."
"Just..."
She hesitated for the briefest moment.
For someone who had faced cursed artefacts, Dark Wizards and death more times than she cared to count...
This somehow felt scarier.
Draco opened his mouth to ask another question.
He never got the chance.
Olivia leaned down.
Pressed a soft kiss against his lips.
Gentle.
Brief.
Gone almost as quickly as it happened.
When she pulled away, her heart was racing.
A nervous smile tugged at her lips.
"Thought I'd do that before I lost my nerve."
For the first time since she'd met him...
Draco Malfoy was completely speechless.
Olivia laughed quietly.
"Merlin..."
"I actually managed to surprise you."
She turned slightly, ready to leave before she could embarrass herself any further.
She had barely taken a single step when she felt a gentle hand wrap around her wrist.
"Olivia."
She looked back.
Draco was already standing.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
His grey eyes searched hers, as though making sure this was really what she wanted.
Then, with the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, he closed the distance between them.
One hand rested lightly against her cheek.
"You forgot something."
"Oh?"
"This."
He kissed her.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Slow.
Warm.
Certain.
Olivia melted into it almost immediately, one hand finding the front of his robes as though she'd forgotten how to stand without holding onto something.
When they finally pulled apart, they stayed close enough that their foreheads almost touched.
A comfortable silence settled between them.
Draco smiled first.
"I've been wanting to do that for weeks."
Olivia let out a quiet laugh.
"And here I was thinking I was the brave one."
"You were."
He brushed a loose strand of brown hair behind her ear.
"But I wasn't about to let you walk out that door thinking I didn't want to kiss you back."
Heat rose to her cheeks.
"You're unbelievably smooth."
"I've had a lot of time to think about what I'd say."
"And that's what you came up with?"
He gave a small shrug, a familiar spark of confidence returning to his eyes.
"It worked, didn't it?"
She laughed, shaking her head.
"Your ego really is unbelievable."
"And yet..."
He smiled.
"...you kissed me first."
She gently nudged his shoulder.
"Oh, shut up."
"I rather like it when you tell me that."
She rolled her eyes, unable to hide her smile.
"I have a mission tomorrow."
"I know."
"So I should go."
"You probably should."
Neither of them moved.
After a long moment, Draco picked up his coat from the back of his chair.
"I'm coming with you."
Olivia raised an eyebrow.
"You weren't assigned."
"I know."
"Then why?"
He looked at her with that same confident smile.
"Because someone has to make sure you remember to eat."
She laughed.
"You're impossible."
"So I've been told."
This time, when they walked out of the office...
They walked side by side.