Hermione looked down the cliff-face and brushed a sodden tendril of long hair behind her half-frozen ear. A spark of annoyance lit up inside of her chest - if she didn't invest in some industrial strength hair-clips soon she was seriously going to shave her hair off. It had always had a life of its own, usually getting in the way – especially when she was hanging almost one hundred metres up the side of a cliff trying to reach a small cave in a torrential downpour. A cave which reputedly contained the one and only key which could open The Grindle Chest – a key which had been lost for over seven hundred years. Hermione had her doubts if the key would be at the end of her trek – but it was good Intel which got her this far and the least she could do was check it out. If not, she would throttle Christopher and his 'Intel'; which she fervently hoped hadn't been researched after an all night bender at their local pub – The Snidgets Alehouse.

She swore as her already partially numb fingers lost their grip for the fifth time in as many minutes and she pressed her body weight harder against the solid impenetrable rock face in front of her, trying to steady herself with only one hand. Thank Merlin her new boots had extra spike grips; she'd have fallen fifteen times over if it hadn't been for them. The rope she'd attached at her last check point was slick from rain, making it almost impossible to retain a good firm hold.

"Magic would have been freaking helpful." Hermione cursed while flexing her numb hand which tingled from the unfamiliar position of not holding on like she was about to fall to her death. It was also a great excuse to catch her breath for a moment.

Sighing loudly even though there was no one around to appreciate the effort it took, Hermione eyed her next hand-hold with a barely concealed groan. She'd been traversing this godforsaken mountain in Eastern Europe for the best part of the day and even though she was at her peak physical condition, it still made every muscle, tendon and bone creak with fatigue.

But knowing she was completely on her own and there was no one to magically bail her out, she continued on with her gruelling task and couldn't help thinking back to one of the reasons she took this damn job in the first place – Draco bloody Malfoy.

"Are you certain?" Hermione asked into the receiver as she shuffled a huge pile of reports around on her desk – where the hell was it?

"I have it on the most reliable source – ie; me - that the Key is in fact currently hidden in the Alps although the exact whereabouts is a mystery…"

Hermione laughed dryly as Christopher's voice drifted off into nothingness. They had met after a Quidditch game Harry and Ron dragged her to in their last year of studies. They had hit it off immediately, his favourite book - 'Hogwarts A History', his favourite colour - peach. The tall raven haired, blue eyed, totally gorgeous Wizard – was completely interested in other Wizards – Witches just apparently didn't 'float his broomstick' if she got what he meant – she did, with unfortunate visuals at his choice of words.

"Of course the location isn't known, you dolt. It's been missing close to seven hundred years – did you think it would be sitting on some farmer's shelf as a book end?" Her words came out distracted as she stood up and moved another pile of papers – one day she would actually get her secretary to clean her desk.

"What the hell are you doing? Looking for your cold coffee?" She could hear Christopher's smile through the phone. Why he didn't just come into her office she didn't know, he was only one room down from her.

Hermione spied the small ceramic handle from her periphery and grabbed it in triumph, swigging at the half cold liquid. It was terrible.

"No…"

"Liar."

Hermione sat back cradling the awful sludge in the bottom of her 'Witches spell it better' mug, smiling at the look she knew graced Christopher's face. He was a tea man – coffee apparently belonged in another country he would never visit.

Years earlier Hermione had started her own business after completing her studies. She had countless offers from private organisations wanting her services, the Ministry also knocked on her door and MI6 threw their hat in the ring with a very intriguing offer – as a secret magic undercover agent within the non magic community. But, as tempting as some of the offers were, and the remuneration - she'd said no in favour of opening her own business, a business which had only gone from strength to strength over the last seven years. She wasn't filthy rich, but she didn't go without.

Relic Collections, was her brain-child from when she was studying at Hogwarts, something she'd dreamed of doing in between saving the wizarding world. On their travels during those years Harry, Ron and her had come across some of the most ancient and wonderful pieces of magical history – most which were lost again – Hermione wanted to find and restore them.

She and her small team of five hunters; collected and procured some of the oddest and most interesting magical pieces from all over the world. Generally she donated her more historical finds to the Museum of Magical History in London for younger generations to enjoy. Although her own ground floor of the office building was a small but lucrative museum of its own – selling pieces to rich investors – pieces which had no home and were deemed non-lethal.

"As I was saying, I've practically pin-pointed where in the Alps this magical ping originated, it obviously got triggered by something, then the magical signal went dead again..."

"I thought you said it's exact whereabouts was a mystery?" Hermione asked.

"Well yes, to anyone who doesn't have my skills and the new mapping system you so kindly gave to me for a bonus." Christopher rushed through the last part and Hermione grimaced.

"What bonus?" Hermione asked through clenched teeth. She said she would think about spending the ridiculous amount of money on the new electromagnetic mapping system for him if she thought it would, in the end benefit the company – she hadn't made a decision yet. It seemed Christopher had made it for her.

"Don't get crabby, I had to make an offer for the equipment..."

"Really, Christopher – it had nothing to do with the head researcher Nathan?"

Christopher sighed dramatically. "Oh, Nathan, what a waste – but no, well partly – but, Malfoy Enterprises was after it too."

Hermione's fist clenched her mug tighter until her knuckles turned from a nice healthy pink to a taut white. "Malfoy?"

"Hmmm, do I sense some tenseness in the air? They also got the EMS system – so I'm going to hazard a guess they are going to go after The Grindle Chest key too."

Freaking Draco Malfoy was never going to let Hermione's life be simple. It wasn't enough he tormented her in her formative years – he'd followed her into adulthood dogging her heels. His company was huge, an inheritance from the late Lucius Malfoy – but what did Malfoy decide to do with it? Hunt down and find relics and sell them to the highest bidder – regardless of their historical value or danger to the wizarding community. He was a shark and she hated the name he'd given the rest of the genuine hunters.

"I'm not interested in finding the key, Christopher – let somebody else do it." Hermione hung the phone up ignoring the tinny protests she could hear.

Dropping her head into her hands, Hermione tiredly rubbed her eyes and felt anger bubble. She would not go after this mythical key just because Malfoy was supposedly doing the same, it was not a competition. Though, a small part of her thrilled at the idea of thwarting Malfoy and getting one of the greatest historical finds over him. The Grindle Chest was one of the wizarding worlds' greatest ongoing mysteries - the holy grail of the hunting world, well the key to the chest was at any rate. The chest itself was locked away deep in the bowels of Gringotts – a place Hermione knew was not impenetrable. Yet, no-one had any reason to steal it as the whereabouts to the key had never been found...until now.

Potentially the chest contained the power to change the course of history. Potentially, because nobody really knew what the chest was for since it had never been opened. All lore about The Grindle Chest was lost, with only a few vague references to it in scrolls so water damaged from the great flood of 1457 it was impossible to know if it was The Grindle Chest they were on about or another one entirely. Then four days earlier a surge of magic made a blip in the middle of Europe, the magical signature disappeared as soon as it had registered on the Ministry's bandwidth. Relic hunters all over Europe immediately went into conspiracy theories, with the key being the most likely candidate to being able to pull up a signature of that strength. Literally hundreds of treasure seekers would be looking for it.

A tapping on her window made Hermione look up from her musings on the Chest – she was trying hard not to care if Malfoy found it first – since she had no intention going for it. None whatsoever.

A small brown owl was perched on her sill, quietly watching her with large intelligent eyes. Grabbing some pellets she opened the window and held her hand out – the owl hooted once and grabbed a beakfull of food and dropped its message for her. Hermione picked up the scroll and saw the wax insignia for her contact in the Ministry, Herbert. Frowning she looked at the small owl again. It was preening itself – and Hermione knew it was not an official Ministry owl – but why would Herbert want to hide the fact he was sending a message – especially when using his wax seal? Odd.

Hermione read the message once and immediately picked up her phone.

"Christopher, get in here now – we have to go after the key. Be damned if Malfoy will get it first."

Throwing her weight behind her, Hermione grasped the small jutting piece of rock and thanked Merlin when it held – she was almost at the shelf where Christopher's maps said the cave should be. Once again she cursed the lack of magical help. Since hundreds of professional and of course just hobbyist hunters would be swarming all over this area, anything which could leave a magical trail had to be left behind else run the risk of being tracked. Hermione couldn't even have a wand on her person – it was safely tucked back in her hotel room – too many miles away for her liking. She had everything she needed hanging off of her including a Muggle stun-gun – the rest was back at her small makeshift camp site. An hour earlier she'd turned her comm off as Christopher kept asking if she 'was there yet'.

So far she hadn't seen anyone else, not that she was inclined to look at the forest floor below her. Hermione wasn't afraid of heights, she just didn't like the idea of falling, okay, she was slightly petrified of heights. Hammering in her next small anchor she thought she heard something like a small thumping. Stilling her movement she waited and listened – nothing. The wind could play tricks on you so high up and she thought nothing of it and continued hammering. Half an hour later and another bucket of sweat she finally made it to the small shelf. Pulling her weight onto the platform only made her realise how absolutely bone weary tired she was, her limbs ached as lactic acid built up and screamed at her for a warm bath. But she was there.

Looking around she saw the shelf reached back a few metres before a split in the rock-wall formed a cave. It was near on impossible to see from front-on and in a helicopter it would be hidden. The rain had lessened into a mist and the coldness was beginning to return now she had relaxed somewhat, doing a few star-jumps helped, even if she felt like a fool hundreds of metres up a cliff doing cardio.

Unhooking her rope, Hermione made her way to the crevice and cracked her bright orange cave light and threw it in. It landed about twenty feet away at a bend in the wall. Nothing seemed like an immediate danger so she attached a head lamp, sent a small prayer to the goddess of luck and went inside.

It soon became apparent that the new gadget Christopher had given her (on pain of death if she broke it) was a god send. The cave had many different pathways which led off to god knows where, but the mapping system on the small black screen of the EMS sent a wave of ultrasonic probes out and showed Hermione which trails were dead ends.

Suddenly a noise from up ahead made Hermione stop and turn her headlamp off. It was a small rock-slide, and she swore she heard a muttered oath. Holding her breath she shuffled backwards until she was pressed against the wall and slowly felt her way forward. It seemed she wasn't alone. Hermione had no idea how this other person or persons had made it into the cave before her – it wasn't like the climb up was busy with overtakers and she had looked keenly with her high powered binoculars before setting out and saw nobody before her.

Then her eyes started to make out shadows, they had a light on, oblivious to the fact they were no longer alone. Hermione started to follow closer, her hand gripping the stun-gun hard.

As they inadvertently plodded along, the cave began to turn into a cavern – a large room the size of the Ministry's ballroom. Hermione watched as the person before her looked around the room – their light picking out nooks and crannies and other caves leading off of the main one. Hermione catalogued all this in case she needed to use the information – then the light hit a small Altar. Not an Altar you'd see in the movies with candles and a clear indication of what it was – but a change in the rock face, with carvings surrounding a small crevice in the wall.

Hermione held her breath – it was an astonishing display of ancient glyphs and in pristine condition. Suddenly the light swung around towards her hiding place, and she dived behind a large rock. Shit – she obviously let out a gasp without realising it. Moron.

"Who's there?" A deep voice questioned, not kindly. Hermione kept quiet. "I'm not an idiot you know, come out now."

The voice was so deep from under-use Hermione felt a small thrill go down her spine, she'd always had a thing for low sexy voices. But she stayed still – not sure if this person was a genuine relic hunter or somebody with more nefarious deeds in mind.

"Have it your way – Amiratr..."

"Don't, you imbecile – you brought a wand with you – what an idiot – don't you realise that will set off any magical detector in a hundred mile radius. You may as well have left a neon sign out the front saying 'here it is'." Hermione was livid, this was obviously not a professional but some hopped up hobbyist hoping to make a quick buck.

Then they did something unexpected - they swore, out loud and using words she'd only thought the inside of locker rooms had ever heard. Now, Hermione was no real lady – but even her ears turned pink at some of the phrases being thrown out into the air. Then he said something which really made her freeze. "Fucking, Hermione Granger – this has to be the world's most cruel practical joke."

"Who the hell..." She trailed off as she switched on her light and saw the person in front of her did not actually possess a wand but a large mag-light torch. Thankful for small mercies she moved her eyes to their face and all the blood drained out of her body as hard grey eyes flinched at her direct light.

"Malfoy..."

Malfoy held a hand up over his eyes, shielding him from the bloody wench's torchlight. Out of all the relic hunts and cave systems in the world, Hermione stuffy-nosed Granger had to be hot on his tail in this one. He was not impressed by the least that she had somehow managed to literally sneak up on him – especially when he'd looked all over the cliff face earlier and saw nothing. Although he had come from above, his helicopter dropped him as close to the peak as it could fly in the thin air. He'd rappelled down to the shelf carefully over the course of the morning. It seemed the infuriating chit also had some mountain climbing prowess. He was still not impressed.

"Could you shine that infernal light somewhere other than directly into my retinas?" He demanded through clenched teeth.

The torch moved and he saw spots for a moment, anger welling in him at the situation. Before he could speak again, Granger had moved towards the Altar and started to take photos on a small digital camera. He reached out and grabbed her arm before she could touch anything.

"Let go, Malfoy." Her unimpressed voice was followed by her shaking him off. He gripped harder and snarled. Why was it Granger brought out the bully in him?

"Are you stupid?" He asked instead.

Her sharp intake of breath made him smile briefly. "Clearly. If I'm letting a snake like you touch me then yes – I'm stupid, now let me the hell go." She tugged away once more and Draco didn't let go – pinching her arm in the process, her yelp echoed in the space.

"Quiet." He ordered, thinking he heard something other than her pathetic squeal.

"I will not..."

Draco pulled her towards him, she stumbled into his chest as one arm held her against him and the other slapped across her mouth – drowning out the infernal noise which was trying to escape. Merlin, women were dense, he thought as she wriggled for freedom. Then he heard it again, Granger too if her sudden stillness was anything to go by. They stood that way for a moment – listening. As they waited, Draco had the uncomfortable realisation that Granger was quite the perfect height for a witch and fit rather well in the crook of his arm as he held her. Suddenly he flung her away – mortified and disgusted at his train of thought.

A clanging noise could clearly be heard coming from the opening of the cave. Granger looked over at him frowning. "Are they with you?"

He shook his head, "you?"

"No."

He grabbed his back pack and headed for the Altar, Granger almost tripping on his heels. Annoyance filtered through his system, "Back off, Granger."

"No way – I have more invested in this than you, there is no way I'm letting you take an artefact of such historical value and watch you throw it to some power-money hungry suit for a quick buck."

Taking a deep breath in, Malfoy counted to three and when he found he wasn't choking Granger he counted again – nope – his hands were still by his sides. He didn't care what the general population thought about his business, and he even cared less what Granger thought – but for some reason it irked him today. People had no idea what he was really...

"Somebody's coming – quick." Granger yanked his arm towards a large rock and not even wondering why the hell she was helping him hide – they hid. At the last moment Draco remembered their torches and flicked his off as Granger mimicked his move. She wasn't completely stupid after all he begrudgingly admitted.

Two figures came skulking into the cave – their torches lighting up the area. Draco knew they were hidden quite well and out of the light's reach, another point for Granger – she could find large rocks to hide behind, she clearly didn't just crawl from underneath them. They spoke low and in a language he couldn't decipher, so he waited and wondered how the hell he was going to get to the Altar. He could push Granger out in front of these two and when they were busy with her he could snatch the relic. As he thought of another plan, not because he was worried about Granger, she was on the wrong side of the rock and would get in his way if pushed out – she moved slightly against him.

Suddenly Hermione's entire body was pressed against his, her lips almost touching his ear and a hand pressed against the other side of his head. What the hell was she doing? He flinched and she pinched his other ear sharply. Bitch.

"They are speaking Finnish, they're here for the same thing we are – I think they are armed." Her whispered voice tickled against his ear and before he could think on the peculiar feeling in his stomach she looked out around him and he found himself with a nose-full of her hair – it smelt of vanilla. He shook himself quickly and was once again unimpressed she knew a language like Finnish, then her lips were on his ear again, he held his breath. "They are definitely not in this for the relic – they are talking about a wizard who wants to use it, why on god's earth would somebody want to use it?"

Draco was not surprised like Granger clearly was, most people in the world would want to try and use The Grindle Chest if able. Maybe it was his less than stellar past acquaintance with the dark side of wizarding which made him know this – Granger was still obviously a bleeding heart and thought the best of the world. He wondered briefly what it would be like to be so innocently naive – or pathetic he quickly amended.

"We have to stop them." Before her whisper had even finished she had grabbed his mag-light and snuck out from behind the rock. Scrambling to follow her, he watched as she stealthily approached one of the dark figures and before he could take another breath in – she had walloped them over the head with a loud crack. They hit the floor in a cloud of dirt. Draco watched in utter amazement as the other figure turned around and Hermione immediately launched into a high kick to the face. But they blocked her and started to punch back.

Knowing he looked like a dunce standing there watching a girl fight for him – he joined the foray and tripped the person over, just as Granger kicked them in the stomach – they heard a grunt as the person toppled over and for good measure she punched them once on the jaw – the person didn't get up. Draco watched her in mute fascination as if she was a strange specimen under a microscope. This was a side of Granger he hadn't anticipated – he wasn't sure what he felt – except obvious dislike – something he'd always carried for the Muggle loving witch.

They both ran towards the Altar and Draco tried to shoulder her out of the way, her bony hips pushed him aside as they groped towards the prize, wanting to be the first.

"Just let me get in, Granger." He found himself saying as she dug her elbow into his ribs, wincing he continued to use brute strength.

"Over my dead body." She hissed.

"My pleasure."

Then he forced himself in front and reached into the small gap – his hand coming in contact with a wrapped object. Pulling it out he watched Granger's livid face with delight – he would never get sick of besting her. Never.

Ripping the cloth off he found himself staring at a flat piece of metal – actually it looked more like a forged sword tip – flat and about the size of a side-plate you would find on your dinner table – it was no key.

"Don't touch it..." Hermione yelled just as his hand came in contact with the cool metal – a blinding flash took over the room as they were thrown back towards the ground like an explosion had hit.

"Idiot." Hermione managed to mutter when she had pulled herself off the ground. "Now you really have let the entire world know where we are. It's been lying dormant with only one flash of magic in centuries then you – who is full of magic, among other things," she snippily added, "awaken it with your touch. We will have every relic hunter on our heads in a matter of hours. Luckily I'm bloody prepared, you fool."

She pulled a small box from her backpack, ignoring Draco's snarky snort. The box was heavy and well worth the extra weight on her shoulders if it worked. It was made of pure lead – the only thing known to block out a magical signal – well, she hoped – it had only been tested recently with a 70% success rate, hence the reason she didn't carry her wand in this manner – if it didn't work they would soon know about it.

Shoving it back in her pack she felt a heavy hand grasp her forearm – looking up into Draco's dark eyes she raised her eyebrow at him.

"I found it first – it's mine, I'll carry it." Then he ripped it from her bag. Fuming, Hermione kicked out and landed a blow on the back of his shin making him falter, and swear. He spun and she was prepared, her fists were up, ready and willing to punch the git in that perfectly formed face of his. She faltered – perfect? That small moment of hesitation was all it took for Draco to bag the box and head towards the entrance leading from the cavern, waving over his shoulder.

"Goodbye, Granger." His smug voice floated in.

Standing there stunned for a moment at his dismissal of her, she grabbed her gear and fled after him - Hermione would not let her relic leave with Malfoy. The altitude must be playing tricks with her eyesight if she suddenly found Draco's face attractive.

As Hermione rounded the first corner she slammed into his back, and then yelped as he pulled her down another path, one which led away from the mouth of the cave.

"What the hell...?" His hand had slapped across her mouth once again before her protest could get louder – this would not do. When all the wriggling in the world wouldn't get him to move his hand she tried something else. Against every fibre of her being, she stuck her tongue out and ran it across his palm. Draco's eyes widened comically at her antics, yet he didn't move his hand – she was too invested to stop now, else look like a fool. So she swirled her tongue like she was giving the best French kiss of her life. Instead of him flinching she watched with complete shock as Draco's eyes closed for a moment, something tugged deep within her – and with shock which reverberated through her body she realised it was the beginnings of lust. She pulled her tongue in as if it had been burned, at the same moment Draco snatched his hand away. They stood staring at the other for a moment, breathing heavily. Definitely the altitude.

Then she heard footsteps heading towards them. Switching their lights off so darkness cloaked them again, they stood - backs against the cave wall as figures thumped past their hiding spot. When all was clear, they bolted out towards the light of day. Hermione watched as Draco slowly checked outside, and beckoned for her to follow when he had ascertained the coast was clear.

Immediately she saw six or seven thick black ropes coming from above – they had obviously followed Draco's lead and been dropped off above. She watched Draco and more importantly his backpack as he spoke in low volumes into an ear piece. Hermione was trying to figure a way of snatching the box back, when Draco strode up.

"What was your escape plan?" he asked quickly. "My helicopter has been grounded by bad weather."

Hermione indicated her climbing rope which hung from the precipice. "The way I came up."

"Shit." Malfoy ran his hands through his hair exasperatedly. "Not quick enough," he muttered to himself.

"What are you on about?"

Malfoy eyed her up and down and strode into her personal space, picking her up quickly. She yelled and thumped him to put her down, which he did straight away after jostling her for a moment. What the hell? "Against my better judgement – I'm going to get you out of here. I may be an arsehole but I'm not leaving you to the Finnish mob, or whoever they're working for."

Hermione was left spluttering at his movements and speech. Was he mad – certifiably most of the time she thought – but he was pulling on a different backpack and strapping himself to it and adjusting things. She grabbed the discarded pack by his feet which held the relic and strapped it to herself and ran towards her rope. Malfoy grabbed her before she got too far.

"You can run, Granger – but there is nowhere to hide from me – remember that. And just so you know – I'm letting you hold the artefact, you didn't actually manage to steal it from me, nor will you be able to."

Just as she went to kick him in complete and utter fury, a noise from behind them startled her into quietness. A man stood there, and judging by the large machete in his hand – he was not going to ask them how the climbing weather was. He started to demand the relic and Hermione shrugged his way.

"English – I only speak English. No comprehendo." She said this slowly as if the man were dense. She felt Draco move, then his hand was on the small of her back pressuring her to move towards the cliff-face. The man spoke louder and more urgently – yet, still in Finnish.

"Do you trust me?" Draco asked.

Hermione snorted. "No, not at all."

"Perfect – it means I wont have to feel bad if this doesn't work..."

"If what doesn't?"

"This," and with that, Draco grabbed her in a death grip and started to run – she had no choice but to follow, panic and fear bursting through her.

Then he yelled, "hold on!" and picked her up and threw them off the cliff. They fell.

A/N: Hey everyone - I'm back...finally! Well here is the first instalment of my new story - really hope you enjoyed it - I think it will be around 8-10 Chapters and I'll post around every week! As usual - would love to hear what you thought :) - Thanks for reading! Oh - yeah - sorry about the cliff hanger...literally...