A/N: Chapter 4. Done while listening to "Illuminated" by the group Hurts.

Disclaimer: dnthn.

-Sanded Silk-

Hermione stopped at a rest station because she suddenly realized that she had absolutely no idea where she was going.

After closing her eyes for a few minutes, trying to gather her frazzled brain, Hermione flipped open her cell phone—only then realizing that she'd forgotten her cell phone charger—and dialed Luna's number.

After several rings, there was a breathless "Hello?"

"Luna? Is this Luna? It better be Luna."

"Hermione? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Luna, what's this about running off to Beledaire? Don't tell me you're after Longbottom."

"Oh, Hermione, I was hoping you'd understand. I love him. I'm not letting him go."

"But he promised to come back!"

"I couldn't wait."

"Why are you so unreasonable all of a sudden? Do you realize that you're leaving behind everything—your dad—for a complete stranger? I know nothing about Longbottom, nothing about his intentions; you're putting yourself completely in his hands—"

"Hermione. Please. Just trust me on this one. Have I ever been anything other than unreasonable since you've known me?"

"No, which is why this particular time worries me so much. Please, Luna, think this through. Where are you?"

"I'm in his office."

"WHAAT? Where are you? In Beledaire, I mean."

"You're coming to get me?"

"I'm coming to see you."

"Before I tell you where I am, Hermione, you must know that nothing you do will make me go home. Absolutely nothing."

The dead seriousness in Luna's voice struck Hermione with apprehension. "All right, Luna, I understand."

"1400 Sepulcher Street."

"Sepulcher—? What kind of a name is that?"

"That's where I am."

"All right. Stay there. Meet me outside if you can. I'll be there asap."

"Neville says he never got a chance to talk to you properly. I'm sure he'd appreciate having a real conversation with you."

"Heh." Presumptuous, meddling stranger. "We'll see when I get there."

-o-o-

Sepulcher Street was actually the brightest, busiest street in Beledaire, as far as Hermione could tell, after having driven throughout the entire city, utterly lost. After finding the right building—a very tall, very rectangular, very grey building, named 'McGonagall & Co. Legal Services'—Hermione parked the car along the street and marched straight in through the doors.

As she walked in, Hermione was immediately struck by the dimness and loftiness of the lights, the deep rich color of the wood paneling, the pervading scent of old books, of letters printed in exquisite black ink on ivory pages. She was awed, almost intimidated, by the richness of the sight—until she remembered that the precise purpose of this building was to inspire this sort of feeling. Clamping down on her awe, ignoring the "Hello Miss"s and "May I help you"s, Hermione glanced around the room and found Luna, perched on a low couch of violet-brown leather, looking sunny and a bit dreamy and entirely out of place. Beside her, talking avidly to her, was Neville. Blaise was nowhere in sight, but that didn't bother Hermione. Not too much.

She was standing in front of them within moments.

Luna looked up, saw Hermione first.

"Hermione!" Luna's face was serenely happy, tinged pink. Talking to Neville had put her in an unnaturally good mood.

"Hermione, this is—erm, you two have already met. But this is Neville Longbottom. And Neville—this is Hermione. Your second cousin."

There was a long silence as Hermione surveyed a suddenly-uncomfortable Neville.

"You came over to reconcile my father with our grandfather," Hermione intoned.

"Yes." Neville nodded.

"And what made you think you would succeed?"

Neville looked taken aback by the question. "Well, I had time on my side. A good amount of time had passed by since the argument first surfaced."

Hermione shook her curls. "Promise me that you will not attempt such a reconciliation again, at least not by yourself. My father was deeply…affected by your sudden appearance."

Luna looked between the two, her face sober.

Neville nodded slowly. "I will not do such a thing again. I'm sorry I came by so abruptly—it's just—I thought your father would be able to refuse more easily if I announced I was visiting ahead of time."

Hermione glared.

"Longbottom!"

Blaise strode down the hall, stopping short at the sight of Hermione. "Well, Longbottom, it looks like it's our lucky day. Not one young lady, but two!"

Hermione scowled. "Don't worry, Zabini. I wasn't here for you."

Blaise feigned hurt, putting a hand to his forehead and sighing deeply. Before he could say anything else, Neville cut in.

"Is something wrong, Blaise?"

"Oh, not really. McGonagall sent me down to call you up to her office. She says the client is ready."

"Good, then. Luna, I think you should just wait down here, in the lobby. I may take awhile."

Luna nodded happily. Hermione looked at Luna, then at Neville, then at Luna again. There was nothing to be done. If Neville was fine with Luna hanging on to him, then Hermione had a slim chance—if not none—that the two of them could be separated without the entire floor knowing about their objections.

Neville was about to leave, when he stopped short and regarded Hermione for a moment.

"Hermione, would you care to come along?"

"…Why?"

"Well," Neville said slowly. "The thing is, McGonagall—Minerva McGonagall, the "McGonagall" in "McGonagall & Co."—is the person who's been pushing me to make amends between your father and our grandfather. She's our grandfather's close friend, and she thought that the reconciliation would do good for Grandfather's mind. He really is bothered by the argument, you know."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "So why should I come along again?"

"You're as close to your father as we can get at this point. Maybe she'll stop bothering me about the argument if you talk to her about how it's not necessary. Or how it's impossible."

Hermione thought for a moment. She had no inclination to further entangle herself in this web of rich, idle meddlers, but the prospect of confronting this Minerva McGonagall about interfering in the family affairs of other people appealed to Hermione's always-confrontational nature.

"Sure, then. I'll come."

-o-o-

Minerva McGonagall was a tall woman with her grey hair tied back in an immaculate bun, dressed severely in green and black. When Hermione walked in, Minerva's head snapped up immediately to scrutinize the newcomer.

"And who is your friend, Neville?"

"This is Hermione. Bertram. The daughter of my grandfather's…er, estranged son."

Minerva's tilted her head, her interest in Hermione heightened.

"Miss Bertram," Ms. McGonagall said, rising from her seat and nodding in greeting. "Has Neville told you who I am?"

"Yes, Ms. McGonagall. It's a pleasure to meet you." Hermione served up the lie with a smile.

"Please, have a seat. Neville, your client is in the next room. Through that door."

"Thanks, Ms. McGonagall." Neville disappeared, leaving Hermione alone to face Minerva.

"So," Minerva said, sitting down at her desk. "How is your family? Your father?"

"We're all doing fine."

"I believe your oldest sister is now at graduate-school age?"

"Yes. Cho is going to graduate school soon, to study architecture."

"Architecture?" Minerva's voice sounded strangled as she pronounced the A. "Not law? Not medicine?"

"No."

"…Well. What about your younger sisters?"

"May I ask about my grandfather? I'm—really curious as to how he is. I've never met him, you know. And, if you don't mind, I'm not entirely comfortable telling you about my family, since I don't...well, I don't know you at all." Hermione smiled brilliantly.

Minerva leaned back slightly, regarding Hermione with surprise and aversion. Hermione could tell at once that Minerva was not used to being addressed this way; nor had she even thought of her interference with Bertram affairs as, in any way, unusual.

"Of course," she said presently, regaining her composure but with a decidedly colder air than before. She knew that Hermione's request was a reasonable one, but felt affronted by it nonetheless. "Last time I saw him, he was doing just fine. Still in charge of his law firm, still as lucid as a twenty-year-old. He was very concerned about his son, though. Your father. Your family. The silence between the two has been very, very long."

"...Oh?"

"Your grandfather is a close colleague of mine, ever since our undergraduate days. We've collaborated on several cases, and he's been as exceptional in handling the stress and responsibility as ever. He's a very capable man."

"I see."

"You know, Ms. Bertram," Minerva said after a beat, "it's possible for you to meet your grandfather tonight."

"How?"

"I was just going over to his house for dinner. It's his step-niece's second birthday. It's a wonderful opportunity to meet the rest of your extended family, you know. Dispel a few myths, maybe."

Dispel a few myths? Hermione bristled at what she thought that phrase to imply. "Well, since I'm already here, I suppose I might as well."

Ms. McGonagall smiled, as if she knew she'd struck a sensitive nerve. "Well, then. If you come back to my office later, at about five o'clock, we can leave together."

Hermione rose from her seat, smiling back. "Thank you very much, Ms. McGonagall."

"Oh no, the pleasure's mine."

-o-o-

Down in the lobby, Hermione found Luna still sitting where she'd been. Upon seeing Hermione, Luna rose to her feet.

"Hermione, before you say anything, I want you to know that nothing you do—"

Hermione sighed. "I know, Luna. Nothing I do will persuade you to let go of Neville. I guess I can accept that. Just—you left everyone back home in such a hurry. It was unusually brash and whimsical of you. Your father isn't too happy that you left him without explaining yourself, and I won't even elaborate on how worried he's been about you."

Luna sagged. "I know," she whispered, serenely dejected.

Hermione patted her shoulder wearily. "Just promise me one thing—that you'll go back home and talk this out with your father. Do that much, at least."

Luna nodded slowly. "Okay. I will."

"Tonight?"

"Yes." Luna nods twice, big healthy head bobs, a gesture she has used to convey her seriousness in making a promise ever since they were both young.

"And can you tell my parents when you get home that I'll be staying here overnight? I've been invited to meet my grandfather."

Luna looked up slowly. "But I thought you guys kicked Neville out of your house when he brought up your grandfather."

"Is that how he put it? He came upon us rather unannounced, imposed himself upon our hospitality, and demanded that my father reconcile with my grandfather after years of being ostracized by the rest of the Bertram family for reasons I don't even know of. And I suspect he has little to no idea about what the argument was actually about. He was, all in all, pretty unjustified in popping in on us."

Luna looked pained. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I only know what Neville told me. Anyway, I'll go home right now. Neville said he wouldn't be able to meet up with me all night, anyway."

"Do you have a ride home?"

"Of course I do. You think I walked here?"

"It's possible." Hermione grinned, waved good-bye at an equally-amused Luna, and watched as her friend left the building.

-o-o-

Hermione was pacing in the lobby, ignoring the stares from the clerks and clients, when Ms. McGonagall appeared in an elevator. Stepping out through the doors, she looked up and saw Hermione.

"Ah, you're here," Ms. McGonagall said as she walked up to Hermione. "This way."

"Is it all right if I drive behind you, in my own car? I don't want to leave my car here in the parking lot."

"Of course. But before we leave, we have to rendezvous my nephew."

"Your nephew?"

"Yes. He was invited to the party as well. Ah, look, there he is. Punctual, as always. Oh, and he's brought along his other cousin! Wonderful, we won't have to wait a moment longer." Beaming with alarmingly abnormal joy, Ms. McGonagall looked behind Hermione and waved her hand in greeting.

Hermione turned around.

"Draco! Ronald! How wonderful to see the two of you."

Draco smiled and nodded, and saw Hermione. He stopped short.

Ronald, red-haired and unbelievably freckled, walked around Draco and right into his aunt's arms. "Aunt Minerva! You haven't changed a bit."

"Ronald, still in need of a haircut, I see," Ms. McGonagall said, smiling as she wrapped her arms around her much-taller nephew.

"But I just had one last week!"

"Well, I can't tell the difference."

Hermione didn't see aunt and nephew babbling, didn't hear them. All she could see was Draco, his blond hair and wide slate eyes, his slacks and dress shirt draped with sharp, careless grace about his body, his shoulders sharp angles against the light from the windows. All she could hear was her pulse, pounding relentlessly in her ears, pounding, pounding.

"Draco, won't you come give your aunt a hug?" Ms. McGonagall said. Draco blinked slowly, and walked towards his aunt. As he brushed by Hermione, she couldn't quell the shiver that broke out across her back.

"Ah, you two. You don't know how wonderful it is for me to see the two of you again. You're ready to leave?"

"Actually, Aunt Minerva, I have to use the bathroom," Ronald said.

"Should have gone earlier! I'm always telling you," Ms. McGonagall called after him as he ran.

With a sigh, Ms. McGonagall turned back to the two awkwardly-silent young adults standing before her.

"Well. I suppose I should introduce the two of you. Draco, this is an acquaintance of mine, Miss Hermione Bertram. She's Philip Bertram's granddaughter."

Draco nodded shortly. "Yes. I just met her about a week ago." Hermione mumbled something in agreement.

"Oh, the two of you met? Well, this is convenient. I suppose you met my nephew when he was visiting Worchester with his friend, Harry Potter," Ms. McGonagall said to Hermione. Again, Hermione mumbled something inaudible that everyone else took as a concurrence.

There was a long, awkward silence, broken only by a red-faced, rushing Ronald, stumbling from the bathrooms. "Sorry I took so long. I'm good now."

"Let's go, then, by all means. Hermione, where is your car parked?"

"Um…" With several creative hand motions, Hermione conveyed the fact that her car was parked two feet away from the front door. When they got out of the building, she slipped into her car and drove to where Ms. McGonagall, Draco, and Ronald had parked their cars. And then the group was off, with a very nerve-wracked, very confused Hermione bringing up the tail.

A/N: Done! Finally! I think we should pop a bottle of champagne.

…Yeah. I need sleep, as you may tell.

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-Sanded Silk-