Just to clear up some things: The first portion that is in italics is set at five and a half years ago moving forward. Anything not in italics is present day. I'll let you know if there's a significant time jump. Sorry for any confusion!

It was late when she got home. She put the Daily Prophet and her purse up on the counter with a sigh, rubbing her arm ruefully.

"Ginny, I'm going to curse you later," she muttered.

"I take it you had a nice trip, then?"

She smiled, turning to see a familiar tuft of platinum blond hair sticking out from the couch. Leaning over the back, she laughed.

"What are you wearing?"

He had his eyes closed and arms behind his head. "I'm trying a new look."

"A bellhop?"

"It was the only way I could get up here."

"You look ridiculous."

"I could take it off."

"I think it looks excellent on you."

Smiling, he pulled her over the back of the couch so that she was lying on top of him. She slipped down to lie beside him, draping an arm over his chest while tucking her head up against his.

"I missed you," he said after a while of them remaining like this.

"I missed you, too. It was so great to get out of the country, but…it was hard being away."

"But you had a good time, hm?"

"I'm sure you know we did. Luna sent so many letters, I'm sure any owl sent to Austria was really upset."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't understand that little spectacle."

"They're cute."

"They're strange. Have you ever actually seen them together?"

"For Luna, they're surprisingly private. I think they only see each other on the weekends and at some neutral location."

"Sounds like us."

"Yeah, except Blaise isn't a fugitive."

"Yeah, there's that."

She looked up at him. They had never spoken much about his status with the Ministry of Magic or what he had done to put him on such terms with Britain's magical government. All she really knew was that it had been bad enough to force him into hiding. He did not seem to want to burden her with the reason and had strong-armed Harry and Ron into keeping quiet on the matter as well.

"Are you ever going to tell me?"

He finally opened an eye to peer down at her. "What?"

"What you did. Are you ever going to tell me? I think I deserve to know, seeing as you're in my flat and all, and I'm your girlfriend."

"You hardly act it, what with spending all your time away from me and not putting out and…well, actually it's really only that last one."

She rolled her eyes, returning to her original position. "Never mind."

His hand ran up and down her side for a while before resting on her shoulder. "I didn't kill anyone."

"I never…what?"

He took a deep breath. "I didn't kill anyone. That's not what this is about."

She had never assumed he had, or Ron and Harry would have let her know. Not that she was any less anxious.

"Then what is it about?"

"It's complicated."

"Draco-"

"I don't want to talk about it."

She sat up, glaring at him. "Then you can get out of the flat."

"Granger-"

She scrambled over him, dragging him to his feet. "Get out, Draco."

"Because I won't tell you what happened? It's been six months!"

"Exactly. Six months of you lying to me-"

"I never lied."

"Omission is about as good as a lie. Get out!"

She pushed him towards the door, but he stopped her before they got too far. "Hermione, stop being difficult. I'm not leaving."

Throwing up her hands, she stalked towards her bedroom. "Fine, whatever. But don't talk to me."

He caught her hand, smiling. "What is this really about? Did something happen in Austria?"

She shrugged him off, but did not move away. "No…I just think you need to be honest with me about what's going on, Draco. I hate that I'm the only person who doesn't know."

He pulled her into him, pressing his lips against her forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "But I need to protect you. And you not knowing gives you deniability if something happens."

"What's going to happen?"

Meeting her worried gaze, he sighed and started towards the door. "I'll see you."

"Draco!"

He paused and she sighed. "Please be safe."

Smiling wanly, he gave her a little nod and then left.

Present Day:

Stockholm Syndrome.

Hermione shivered a little and closed the book. The last thing she needed was for something like this to start happening, but it explained the odd feelings she had had the other day with Craven. Not odd. Downright disturbing.

She put the book away and then left the study, going out onto the terrace where Claire was having tea with her stuffed animals and quidditch broom. Lilith was at a table a few feet away, pretending to read a newspaper. Not that Hermione minded. Her daughter was the only thing that mattered right now.

"How are you feeling?" she asked the little girl. Claire shrugged one shoulder, passing out little cakes to each of her guests.

"My arm still hurts."

Hermione pursed her lips, glancing over at Lilith. She pulled the sleeve back on Claire's shirt to inspect the angry welt.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said. "I'll see about getting some potions for it, okay?"

Claire looked up at her mother briefly before pouring tea. "Did he hurt you, too?"

Hermione had to look away, closing her eyes as tears came. The one thing Craven had made sure to do was ensure that Claire was aware that her mother hurt just as much as she did if the girl did not do as she was told. Claire was not privy to what exactly happened, but she was old enough to notice bruises.

"Mummy?"

She turned back, forcing a smile. "I'm fine, love."

Claire did not look convinced, but she left it alone and focused on her tea party. Hermione looked around herself with a sigh. The country estate was just as sprawling as the one closer to the city, complete with a stadium style Quidditch pitch that often hosted local matches. Today it was cool and cloudy, casting a crisp gray glow over the grounds. Ideal for play, at least it would be if there was anyone to play with.

Craven was a cruel man. Though he touted Claire as his daughter to the world, he treated her like the unwanted stepchild, forbidding her from having friends and keeping Lilith on call so that any schooling would be done at home. She was isolated at its worst, with only her toys, mother, and Lilith for company, though Lilith was little company at all. Lilith was intolerant of play, demanded perfection, and administered punishment at the slightest whiff of dissention in the little girl.

Thus sat Claire at the little table on the terrace, asking inanimate objects if they wanted one or two sugars.

A house elf, Bowie, appeared, bowing. "A Mrs. Weasley, a Miss Weasley, and a Miss Lovegood to see you."

Hermione looked to Lilith. The woman rolled her eyes, but left the terrace. Smiling, Hermione turned back to the house elf. "Let them in, Bowie."

He bowed again and disappeared. Claire smiled as well. "Aunties come to see me!"

Ginny came first, followed by Luna and Adrianna, Ron's wife. The three women embraced Claire tightly in turn before turning to Hermione.

"What are you doing all the way in the country?" Adrianna inquired, sitting down beside Hermione. "I thought we were going to meet-"

"I know, but something came up." Hermione laughed. "Why are you all here?"

"Wanted to see Claire, obviously," Ginny said. "How are you doing?"

"Do you want to play brooms with me?" Claire asked, pulling on Ginny's sleeve. "Auntie Adry, you play, too! Come on, come on!"

Hermione smiled as Ginny and Adrianna were dragged off. "Claire, don't pull so hard! You're going to dislocate…that girl never listens."

Luna picked up a teacup from in front of an elephant and took a sip. "Needs more sugar," she said after a minute of silence. Hermione turned to Luna.

"How are you?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. You seem…like you did a lot to get here."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "As much as I needed."

Luna nodded, gaze turning to the grounds. It had been unavoidable that she would be the one to know the truth surrounding Hermione's current situation, given her relationship with Blaise Zabini. This had been particularly important in the early stages, as Hermione had had no one else to turn to then. Luna's ability to listen without question or response had made unburdening herself easier for Hermione and they had grown quite close over the years.

"How is Blaise?"

Luna smiled. "Put out. He has to go before the Wizengemot to defend his new spells. I told him not to create too many, but he never listens."

"And the children?"

"Sephanora turns three next week and she's quite aware of it. She's asked her father for something Grandfather used to have in the paper. Blaise says she should be asking to change her name."

Hermione hid a smile, as Luna looked incredibly serious in saying all of this. "Well, I'm sure you'll find a happy medium."

"I think Blaise will have to let this name business go." Luna set down the teacup, a frown coming to her face. "Ginny is going to ask you to come over for dinner."

Hermione's smile slid away. "Why?"

"She and Harry have something to tell everyone. Probably that they're finally getting married. Anyway, they want us to come over to his flat for dinner. I'm sure you will get an invitation and Aldridge will be a part of it."

Hermione sighed, looking over to where three people were zipping about on brooms. "I'm sure he'll want to. He likes Ron and Harry."

"Are you sure?"

"I want to see Ron and Harry, too. It's been a while."

Harry shook his head, looking about the street. "This is the fifth pub-"

"Now who's being impatient?" Ron gestured down the street. "Look, there's one."

"We cannot go into every pub in England-"

"We'll have to. We actually do have to talk to him this time."

"He's probably drunk off his arse. He'll barely be intelligible."

"We'll sober him up before talking to him. Come on, Harry. We don't have all day. I have an early morning tomorrow and then there's this dinner, too." He sent Harry a sideways look. "You actually doing it this time?"

Harry flushed. "What are you on about?"

"My sister. That's what the dinner is about, isn't it? You two are getting married?"

"Why is it that everyone thinks-"

"Because that's what it is."

Blushing furiously, Harry picked up his pace. "I don't have time for this, Ron."

"About bloody time. Thought you were going to drag your feet for forever. So did Mum and Dad."

"I wasn't dragging my feet. I was looking for a good time."

"You've been dating my sister for a good time."

"Can we not talk about this right now?"

"Adrianna's excited. She's been wanting to help Ginny with wedding plans for a while."

"When I meant right now, I meant immediately. Look, there he is."

A blond had just stumbled out of a pub and into a narrow back alley. Harry and Ron ducked in behind him, following from a safe distance while they assessed the situation.

"How bad do you think it is?" Ron whispered as Draco tipped to the side. "Looks like he might hurt himself."

"He looks like that sober," Harry muttered back, but he was concerned. Draco was veering wildly towards a solid wall at a dangerous angle. "This is your fault, you know."

Ron pulled out his wand. "Stop blaming me for his issues. If he can't move on, then that's his fault. It's nothing to do with me. Malfoy!"

Draco turned around, face flush from the alcohol. Or anger. The way he was charging the two men, it was hard to decipher which. They stepped aside and Draco took a dive into some trash. Rolling his eyes again, Ron grabbed the man by the back of his jacket, pulling him out.

"You're completely out, aren't you?" he said, waving his hand in front of Draco's face. Draco shoved him away, glaring.

"What are you doing here?" he slurred, stumbling back into the trash before managing to prop himself up against a building. "Thought…thought you had someone to talk to."

Harry's lip curled. "God, you smell terrible. Ron, will you clean him up before he starts attracting attention."

"I don't need to be cleaned up, I'm fine!" Draco folded his arms over his chest, the same arms that had been holding him up against the wall. Ron smiled when he collapsed on the ground.

"Clearly."

"Ron."

"Yeah, yeah."

It was a few minutes before Draco was lucid and more-or-less cleaned up. He sat up against the wall, head in his hands.

"We picked up Sloan," Harry said after a while. "Didn't say much save that things are getting centralized. Someone's making waves and it's not just here."

"Did he say anything about the murders?" Draco inquired. Ron nodded.

"Said Matterson and Lakely got into some documents they weren't supposed to. Since Matterson's part of the Improper Use of Magic office, we figure it's more to do with Lakely, since he was an Unspeakable. We haven't been able to get permission to search his office yet."

"Ministry red tape," Harry muttered. Draco managed to his feet, still holding his head as it started pounding horribly.

"Did he say anything else?"

"Nope. So, are you going to fill us in?"

"I've told you everything I know. You two geniuses were supposed to be investigating this, not me."

"Well, we're at a stalemate. All we keep getting is someone's making moves in London's crime, muggle and magical. We're no closer to who it is then when we started."

Draco's lip curled as his face lit up with unbelievable loathing. "I've already told you-"

"Stop it, Malfoy." Ron shook his head. "We're not doing this again."

"You don't believe me?"

"Considering your personal relationship, it makes it difficult for us to take you seriously."

"Fuck my personal feelings, I know it's him."

"Without a shred of evidence!" Harry reminded the agitated blond. "And nobody's going to believe you. We don't even believe you."

Draco released a discontented growl before stalking off down the alley. "Fine, whatever. Go screw yourselves."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Come on, Harry. This was a waste, hm?"

"He's right, though. We do need to get into Lakely's office. He was killed for a reason."

"Yeah, but that's assuming whoever killed him knew he was an Unspeakable, and that's supposed to be impossible, right? And what the hell would they kill an Unspeakable for, anyway?"

"He knew something?"

"Who the hell is he going to tell, Harry? Unspeakable, remember?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just saying. Sloan seemed pretty scared after we told him what we were looking for, didn't he?"

"He didn't seem to want to be there anymore."

"He did say someone powerful."

"You think someone in the Ministry?"

"I think we need to get into that office."