A/N: Hi all, just added the note to the chapter now. Had no time earlier but wanted to put out the chapter before I went out so that when I came back in I'd have some reviews :) haha.. On a completely related note, snow is AMAZING. The biggest snowfall in my lifetime and it is simply STUNNING! Now, moving on, another short chapter, but I hope to get another one finished very soon. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews, they're definitely fuelling this story! It's funny to see the guesses as well :)
Don't own HP or Vienna btw.


Chapter Three: When The Truth Is Told

Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You better cool it off before you burn it out
You got so much to do and only
So many hours in a day

But you know that when the truth is told
That you can get what you want
Or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get halfway through
When will you realize...Vienna waits for you

"Vienna" - Billy Joel.

Hermione levelled her gaze with Draco, knowing all too well the games he was capable of playing and the webs he was far too accustomed to spinning. She knew that that sentence was going to change everything, perhaps even her life, and took a pause to gather her thoughts. Kill someone? Why, Hermione wasn't going to kill anyone, anytime soon. She was here on a mission foremost, and she couldn't forget that for some half-crazed Malfoy plan to kill someone who may or may not have crossed paths with her once before. Hermione attempted to read Draco, though his face was perfectly impassive except for the look of amusement in his eyes, as usual. Stupid Malfoy, she thought.

Hermione finally let out a long exhale, and let her eyes flicker to Blaise. He was looking suitably bored with the wait and was now spinning a coin on the table, calling aloud on which side he thought it would land on. Neither Hermione or Draco responded to his cheers and sounds of dismay.

"Well do go on. Pray tell, why in the world would I help you kill someone? In fact, I'm rather appalled by the whole situation.. Why are you trying to kill someone in the first place?… You were reformed!" She cried at the end, accusatorily.

"I am reformed." He replied, exasperated. "Must you always be so dramatic?"

"Gryffindors," Blaise added with a roll of his eyes, purely to get a reaction out of Hermione. He received one in the form of a sharp glance.

She discarded all the rest then, and came back to the original topic, "I don't want to beat around the bush anymore, Draco. What's this all about?"

He sighed deeply and sat down beside Blaise, who sat across from her - meaning Draco was now diagonally across from her. Her eyes followed him as he moved, fearing he would disappear again if she didn't keep her eyes glued to his every movement. Her irrational fear was for naught though because he did sit down, and gave her an assessing look.

"I know you'll help me because I know why you're here."

She titled her head back as her thoughts raced, "You know why I'm here?"

"Yes. You're here to find the man that's been killing the purebloods here - as it happens, so am I."

Hermione blinked, thoughts reeling. Had he really just said what she thought he had? How did he know her agenda? How did he know about the killings? They hadn't been made public as far as she knew. Her eyes strayed to Blaise and she connected it.

"You work in the French ministry now, don't you?"

He nodded, "Ten points there, Hermione," with another of his trademark winks. She could see herself getting annoyed by those infectious winks.

"I see. What's the personal vendetta against him?"

Draco shook his head, leaning forward as he rose from the table, mug empty. He put it in the sink and stood there for a moment, hands gripping the counter. His eyes were staring at the mug still, and she knew he was thinking hard about his next words. When he turned back around, his eyes seemed a little wearier and he looked like he just wanted to sleep. Despite the weariness surrounding him, his eyes were also hard, much steelier and colder than they had been since she arrived.

"Smartest witch of her age," Blaise tutted, but there was a quiet warning in his gaze and Hermione was beyond confused.

"Granger," he started, with a tone that suggested she was stupid. Hermione struggled to keep her indignation at bay. "Who do you think was his first victim?"

It hit her like a ton of bricks, and Hermione was knocked for words. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as the realisation became reality and she began connecting the dots. Hermione had always wondered if that case was a factor in Draco's apparent disappearance - but for the deaths, not for the actual murderer. She had no idea of who the murderer was, and due to the use of a muggle gun, it was impossible to narrow it down. Despite the fact that it should be easier with the absence of magic as most people would use magic, their suspect list was aimless and had a range of personalities and characters. There was no constant. The case was left open and two aurors were still working on it, but Draco left two months afterwards. Hermione could scarcely believe her stupidity in not making the connection with the case and his disappearance.

He got information from somewhere that the killer had moved to France, and seized on the opportunity to quench his thirst for revenge. What begged to be answered though, was how he obtained this vital piece of information? It certainly wasn't the British Ministry. They didn't even know who had committed the murder to know they had migrated. She knew was now was not the time to ask.

Hermione looked up at him, shaking her head slowly as she searched for the right words. "I-I don't know what to say.. Sorry, I had no idea.."

He scoffed, "Obviously. We'll talk tomorrow." Draco then turned, coat still on, towards the door. He didn't glance back once, not as he was walking, not as he turned the doorknob and certainly not when he walked out and slammed the door behind him.

Blaise sucked in a breath and turned to her, "Don't take that personally." Hermione nodded dumbly.

"He lives close?"

"Oh yeah, across the hall. It's great 'cause I'm the shoulder they all cry on coming out of his apartment." He grinned wolfishly, and Hermione raised a brow.

"That's a little pathetic, Blaise, I have to admit." She stood and grabbed her coat, aware that he was watching her put it on.

"No, I was joking. No girls ever get into that apartment, that much is true. Anyone else that comes out usually does need comforting though, former death eaters and the like."

She stilled, "He keeps contact with former Death Eaters?"

Blaise saw her assumption, and waved her off. "Of course not in the context that you're thinking. He just grills them for answers sometimes… Nothing dark and dangerous."

Hermione smiled, feeling slightly relieved. The reality of the night had still not sunk in - to think it had all started with her tiredly stumbling into an old pub. That was hardly believable!

Blaise observed her, "You're knackered. There's a floo in the sitting room if you want to use it instead of apparition?"

She only nodded in response, and followed him to the floo. She felt the exhaustion from earlier overcome her again, and was weary with all that she had learned. Hermione needed some time to process this, and another opinion on the strange turn her stay in France had taken.

Hermione frowned; Harry was probably worried sick as well. She promised to be back hours ago. No matter, his worries would soon be put to rest when she arrived at their hotel room. They were sharing on account of the huge suite and it being far easier, but both had separate rooms and a sort of living room in between the two rooms. It was luxurious in its unique layout, but otherwise it lacked any special features or lush furniture.

She got into the fireplace with her handful of powder, and tried to sum up her gratitude and thoughts of the night. She glanced up at Blaise, who was standing in front of the fireplace, arms folded, his boyish grin deigning his face, and he tilted his head in askance.

"I-I.. I just want to say thank you. And, that of course, I'll be in touch." She gave him a small smile, but before he could begin to reply, Hermione threw the powder down and shouted the name of her hotel.

Blaise closed his mouth abruptly; she was gone.


The floo home was disappointingly short, Hermione thought as she almost tripped upon landing in her hotel lobby. Sighing heavily, she picked herself back up and attempted to retain her dignity as she walked across the room towards the lift. The ride up was painfully short, in contrast to the floo, and she found herself tapping her foot impatiently. She was exhausted and dying to get into her bed and sleep. Granted, she knew it would be another hour before she got to do this due to her roommate. Oh, the woes of having a partner.

As Hermione was about to put her key - which was a card - into the electric lock, the door swung open and Harry stood before her. His expression was one of relief as soon as he saw she was fully intact, but then he crossed his arms and lifted a brow.

"Care to explain?"

Hermione pushed past him, setting her bag down on the couch and taking her coat off. She paused then, putting her hands on her hips and standing still. She was collecting her thoughts when Harry touched her shoulder, a look of concern on his face. "Hermione?"

She jumped a little, then focused her eyes on Harry. "I've just had the most surreal day in years - literally."

Interest sparked in his eyes, and Harry ushered her onto the couch. "Oh? To do with the case?" He threw her a cushion, "Tea?"

"No, thanks. And I think so.."

He fell onto the seat beside her, frowning, "You think so?"

"Well, it's hard to explain. After we had that meeting in the ministry, I, as I said was going to, went in search of a warm bar. To relax; remember?" He nodded mutely, and she continued. "I found a lovely pub, warm and cosy. There was a pianist and the music was wonderful, but-but.. I still can't believe it. Harry, Draco Malfoy was sitting behind that piano."

His green eyes widened and his mouth dropped, much like Hermione's reaction. Harry was quite speechless - it had been two years since he saw Draco, and the last place he expected to find him was in France. Well, Hermione to find him. "Malfoy?" He repeated, astonishment waving through his tone.

"Draco Malfoy. Not his parents, him. And Blaise is with him!"

"What?" Harry asked, voice raised slightly with the surprise. "He went to Italy!"

"For a year. Then he came here to help Draco - and this is the best part, really -"

"Why do I get the feeling that's sarcasm?"

"The best part is that they're looking to kill the same guy we're hunting down. Now, I was stumped at first, but then it became quite simple - why do you think Draco would want to kill this man? Or in his words, who do you think his first victim was?"

There were a few minutes of silence. Harry's eyes strayed as his thoughts raced, systematically going through any possible connection. Hermione could see his mind working and was waiting patiently for that golden moment where the dots would connect.

Harry's head snapped and his eyes flew back to hers, a question in them.

Bingo.

"You-you don't mean Astoria?"


A/N: I know. That was evil. Reviews loved :D haha