Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to get this up. I've had a bad couple of days. I'll try to update once or twice each week, but no guarantees.

Chapter 5

Hermione examined the piece of paper in her hand. How could she have been so stupid? Why had she agreed to let Grayson drive her back to her apartment?

She hadn't made a mistake like this in years. It was the height of stupidity to get into a vehicle with a man who probably wanted to kill her and trust him to drive her anywhere. But she'd been in so much pain. She'd barely been aware enough to hear his request. At the time, she certainly hadn't had enough energy to be scared, let alone to pretend that she wasn't.

With a sigh, she picked up her phone. The doctors had kept her for several hours, treating the injuries before decided she could leave. Maybe she'd get lucky and he'd already be asleep. One look at the clock was enough to disprove that idea. It wasn't even eight yet.

After a quick look in the mirror, Hermione pulled out her wand. She felt and looked miserable. Though she was not to sort to dress up or wear makeup, she could and would make herself presentable.

She quickly cleaned her body, clothing, and hair. That was better. A lock of hair fell in front of her eyes. With a sigh, Hermione tapped her bobby pins with her wand and then pointed the wand at the back of her head, picturing what she wanted. Her hair twisted and the rolled in on itself into practical chignon as the bobby pins secured it in place.

Sometimes Hermione wondered why she still adhered to such strict Wizarding standards, particularly when it came to her appearance. But then, she'd spent more years of her life among the Wizarding than anywhere else.

There was a knock on the door leading into the room she shared with another woman. Hermione put her wand away and walked out of the bathroom. She'd spent a little over two hours in the hospital and desperately wanted to get back to her apartment.

Though there were spells in place that would automatically put out food for her cats, she didn't want to leave them alone for two long. Crookshanks was getting on in years and Fluff was nearing the end of her nine week pregnancy. Luna would step in to take care of them if need be, but Hermione didn't want her friend to face the wards around her apartment unless absolutely necessary.

"Hermione?" said Grayson.

She quickly slipped her wand into her arm holster. "Just a minute."

Hermione brushed off her slightly wrinkled skirt and walked out of the bathroom sans irreparably ripped stockings. She gave Grayson an unsure smile, trying to hide her fear.

"Thank you for…"

"It's no big deal," insisted Grayson. "Are you ready to go?"

Hermione slipped on her scuffed flats before nodding. "I've just got to sign out."

Dick said nothing as he listened to the doctor's instructions. It seemed Hermione had been injured far worse than he'd originally thought. Not including the various bumps and bruses, she had a severely sprained wrist, two cracked ribs, a concussion, and a gash on her leg which had required nine stitches.

If nothing else, this was certainly a new piece to the puzzle that was Hermione Granger. Unfortunately, it only raised more questions.

"… need to wake up every two hours,' explained Dr. Shmidt.

"I'll make sure she wakes up," volunteered dick, before he had a chance to think his words through.

Hermione gave him a look that made it quite clear that he had overstepped the bounds of their relationship. However, she nodded her head in agreement, a hard look in her eyes.

It was all Dick could do not to show his reaction. He knew that look, though he'd never seen it on her face before. It was the look of somebody who found an action to be distasteful, but was going to do it anyway. Even so, her fear was still there, just under the surface. He rather hoped that Hermione really was as bad an actress as she seemed.

This was dangerous. He was walking into a this situation blind, and chances were, if he made a mistake, he wouldn't live to regret it.

As Hermione pretended to have trouble unlocking her door, she carefully changed the wards to allow Grayson to enter the apartment. It was a subtle piece of magic easily changed without words or motions, so long as Hermione was within the wards themselves. She opened the door and turned on the lights.

Crookshanks immediately head butted Hermione's leg before he wound his way through her legs affectionately. Surprisingly, Fluff didn't come to greet her.

"What's its name?" asked Grayson, motioning toward her familiar.

"He's Crookshanks, one of my cats," she explained.

"How many cats do you have?" asked Grayson, closing the door behind him.

"Two, at the moment. At least I think so," she added as an after thought. "I'm not sure where Fluff-that's short for, well, you don't want to know what that's short for-is. Luna named her."

"Are you planning on getting another cat?" Grayson sounded confused.

"Fluff's due to give birth to her litter any day now," she explained. "Luna spends her free time volunteering at the Bludhaven SPCA. She convinced me to foster Fluff until her kittens are old enough to go up for adoption. Anyway, Fluff and Crookshanks get along so well that I adopted her."

"Oh. Are you hungry? I could order some take out if you want."

Hermione gave him a morally offended look. "You'll do no such thing. I'll cook dinner. Have you eaten yet?"

"No. Haven't had a chance to. Uh… are you sure you're up to cooking?"

"I'll be fine. Just give me a minute to change and then I'll make dinner. Why don't you make yourself comfortable on the couch and watch some television."

Before Grayson had a chance to object, Hermione walked down the hall and into her bedroom. She quickly changed into a soft, more casual wrap dress before letting her hair down. Hermione then searched though her second bedroom turned workroom for the proper potion. Once found, she slipped it into her pocket. Hopefully Grayson wouldn't suspect anything until it was too late.

"How do you feel about chicken and couscous with vegetables?" asked Hermione as she walked back out.

"That sounds good. Are you sure you don't need any help?" asked Grayson.

She bit her lip, then said, "So long as you don't mind chopping vegetables and doing the heavy lifting."

"That's no problem. What do you want me to do first?" he asked, walking into the room.

"Fill that pot a third of the way with water. Then put it on that burner."

They worked quickly, Grayson doing his best to make her smile. He told joke after joke, most of them rather bad. Though Hermione had to admit, that she found far too many of them amusing.

As dinner neared its completion, Hermione set in motion the first part of her plan. "What do you want to drink? I have juice, milk or water."

"What sort of juice?"

"Orange, apple, cranberry, and pumpkin."

"Pumpkin?"

"It was popular when I was in school. And most of my friends drink it religiously," she explained somewhat sheepishly. She had to admit, she had often shared his slightly disturbed reaction to the popularity of such a strange drink.

"I'll have milk."

"Why don't you take the plates and silverware into the dining room while I get the drinks."

She waited until he was out of the room before slipping three drops of the potion into his milk. Hermione rather hated the use of veritaserum, but this had gone on far too long. Enough was enough. She would find out what he wanted, and if need be, take care of the situation before the night was through.

Hermione carefully picked the glass up with her left hand while carrying her own glass with her right. The last thing she wanted, or needed was for Grayson's milk to be spilled.

She followed him out of the enclosed kitchen and into the living room/dining room The sight that greeted Hermione almost made her drop her glass. Grayson was petting a purring Crookshanks while a heavily pregnant Fluff played with the cuff of his shirt.

Traitors.

Hermione gave her cats a look that made it clear they would not be getting treats for quite a while before putting the glasses down. Crookshanks rubbed against Grayson before padding over to Hermione. He meowed her loudly.

Hermione absentmindedly scratched him as she placed the glass of milk in front of Grayson. "I hope my cats haven't been bothering you."

"No. Not at all. My… mother is very fond of cats."

He walked around the table to pull her chair out for her. Once Hermione was situated Dick sat down in his chair.

"So what type of car was that?" asked Hermione. "Your car, I mean."

Grayson smiled and launched into a monologue about muscle cars. Muscle cars? Never mind, she didn't want to know. She'd only asked to put him at ease. After all, years of being friends with boys had taught her that they loved brooms and quidditch.

As he finished his explanation, Crookshanks meowed at Grayson, who merely smiled and scratched him behind the ear. As dick reached with his other hand for the glass of milk, Crookshanks pounced. The glass flew out of Grayson's hand, spilling all over the carpeted floor.

"Crookshanks!" scolded Hermione.

How could her traitor of a familiar have done such a thing?

Dick wasn't sure what had happened, but Hermione had quite suddenly warmed up to him. Midway through dinner, that worrying look had faded from her eyes, replaced by confusion. He wasn't sure exactly when she'd stopped being frightened by him, but it seemed that by the time Hermione had gone to bed, her fear was gone.

It seemed that he had finally gained access to the apartment. Absentmindedly petting Crookshanks, Dick pretended to sleep on the couch as he waited for Hermione to fall asleep.

Once a sufficient amount of time had passed, he began his search.

The living room and dining room had revealed nothing beyond nearly a thousand openly stored books of magic. Dick had to admit that Hermione had a very large collection. He wasn't sure that some of his colleagues could match it.

Several pictures caught his eye. Most contained a pair of boys, one with dark hair, the other with red, though there were numerous others. In almost all the pictures, they wore the robes so favored by magic users. It was not until he looked again that Dick realized many of the figures in these pictures moved about an their own.

Three pictures were prominently placed. One was of Hermione with what seemed to be her parents and four younger siblings. The boys looked incredibly familiar for some reason, though he couldn't quite put his finger on who they reminded him of. The second was of a large group of magic users. A man who looked rather like the black haired boy caught dick's eye, but the man had brown eyes, not green. The third was also of a large group of magic users. Many from the previous picture were gone, those who reappeared a good ten or fifteen years older. Hermione and the two boys stood prominently in the middle, grim looks upon their faces.

He filed it away for later thought and then moved on to the kitchen. Unfortunately, all he found were a couple books on how to use magic to make cooking easier.

After waking Hermione up, and then waiting for her to go back to sleep, he continued his search. The hall closet was locked. Nothing he did would open it. The second door revealed the most interesting thing he'd found all night.

It seemed to be a workroom of some sort. There were several bookshelves full of books on magic. A desk pushed against the only window was covered in carefully filed sheets of paper full of equations. Unfortunately, the equations didn't seem to be any type of math he knew of. An entire wall was covered in shelves holding strange vials, herbs, and numerous other things he didn't recognize.

Dick carefully searched the room, doing his best not to trigger anything dangerous. But by the end of the night, he'd found nothing beyond the locked closet. Not even in Hermione's bedroom.