Dramione One Shots

Blood Killer Part 1

"Parvati Patil coming live to you through The Daily Prophet - Video Edition. Currently I am at the scene of he latest occurrence in a string of strange murders. All the previous victims that have been named by the press all have on thing in common - blood. And I'm not meaning the type hospitals use if you know what I mean. 

"It's been predicted by our own private force of detectives that these murders are a form of hate crimes targeted towards a specific culture. Anyone from outside this culture who somehow shares the blood of the members from the culture are considered in danger. So far there have been seventy-four murders over the span of nine months. Whomever is behind this is moving fast and is only speeding up.

"There were only ten murders in the first three months, twenty-four over the next two, and the numbers keep increasing. There have been seven alone in this week - "

Draco clicked the off button on his television remote, tossing the black bar of technology to the side. He let out a long, deep sigh and tilted his head up to the ceiling. He'd been letting his hair grow out, not bothered to take the time to cut it. As a result, the pale blond fringe fell into his eyes and the rest tickled the back of his neck.

"You don't have to turn it off. It's nothing I haven't seen or know." The voice belonged to Hermione Granger who stood with her hands clutching a duffel bag in front of her. She wore a dark magenta petticoat and a knitted black hat over her unruly brown hair. "And you don't have to let me stay, I'm sure it's nothing." 

Draco shook his head, "I hear and see enough at work, I don't need this at home, too. And Blaise asked me to keep you safe. You guys are mates and he's away. I owe him for so many reasons. It's about time I start making it up to him." 

Hermione nodded. She could see where he was coming from. Muggleborns were being killed left and right. Her best friend got scared for her safety and he wasn't there to offer her a place so he had his friend do it. Hermione regretted telling Blaise hat someone had impersonated her and sold her flat, on the same day as a muggleborn killing. 

"You can stay in the guest room or Blaise's. He crashes here a lot. It'll be more furnished and probably has some decent books, so," Draco muttered, trailing off. 

"Right, thanks," Hermione said awkwardly. She shuffled her feet around, unsure what to do or say now. 

Draco seemed the same. He had his hands in his pockets and stood stiffly in the same spot, looking at the paper copy of the Daily Prophet. Neither moved or said anything for a good chunk of time. 

"I don't mean for this to sound sexist or anything, but there's plenty of food in the kitchen if you want to make anything. I normally just order something from that muggle place down the street. It's easier with our schedules," Draco said, referring to how they worked the same job. 

Hermione smiled slightly. "Thanks," she said, "I normally do the same. There is - was - this nice pizza place a quarter of a mile away. I guess when you work twenty-four seven hour schedules, it's hard to find time for those simple tasks like making food." 

"You wouldn't trade it though," Draco said, following her example of attempting small talk, "Offers adventure, being a field auror. Sometimes being able to save lives makes it rewarding to deal with all the sadness and depression that comes with what leads to the answers." 

"You wouldn't leave either," Hermione decided. 

"Not even if it meant I had to die the most painful death imaginable," Draco confirmed. 

Hermione's left hand let go of her bag and scratch her neck, unconsciously lingering on the small scar that was left there from Bellatrix's knife. Draco, however, noticed, and looked away.