A/N: Thank you all again for reading! As always, I don't own anything and I would love it if you reviewed and shared your opinions!

Work, Dinner, and Maybe a Little Bit of Spying…

It had been exactly one month since Potter had interrupted his perfectly peaceful day to asking him to go and pick up his bloody godson; knowing perfectly well who's house it was, and what that would mean for Draco. It had been a whole sodding month and he still couldn't get his conversation with his aunt out of his brain. Merlin his mother would kill him if she knew; not to mention his father would then dig up his grave and kill him again. Why couldn't he get that bloody conversation out of his head?! It was starting to get in the way of his work. He couldn't concentrate on the files, or the facts or even the meetings he had been attending. Maybe that business trip he was taking starting on Monday would do his brain some good. He sighed as another Ministry message flew into his office and landed on his desk. He grimaced as he saw who it was from. Potter. Sweet Salazar, couldn't that man leave him alone? He folded the note and threw in neatly into the trash; he didn't need more of Potter and his nonsense right now.

He sighed again, mentally noting that he wasn't getting anything accomplished. Draco grumbled to himself as he stood up, gathering different folders from his desk drawers. Maybe if he left the office, he'd be able to get things done. He grabbed his cloak from the hanger, and opened the door, walking leisurely down the hall. It's not like he was in a hurry; he just needed to clear his head. His thoughts still swirling around, he didn't hear someone rushing down the hall until they had rounded the corner and burst into him; sending both parties tumbling to the ground, Draco managing to bang his head on a nearby door handle as he fell. He rubbed the back of his head subconsciously as he looked to see what idiot had knocked him over. Of course, he raged. It had to be Granger. Just who he needed to bump into today. She was frantically trying to organize the files that had been scattered in their collision; her face flushed and her hair going in every direction.

"Merlin Granger. Do you always have to be in such a rush?" He hissed, wincing slightly as the back of his head throbbed.

"No Malfoy, I'm not always in such a rush," she said snippily, putting the papers back into their files. "You however, always seem to be in everyone's way."

"You're the one who ran into me Granger," he growled, picking himself up off of the floor, and brushing invisible dirt off of his robes. "Made my hit my bloody head too."

"Good," Hermione said tersely. "Maybe it will knock some sense into you. If not, at least you'll have the bump as a reminder not to be such a prick," she added, standing and holding tightly to her files. "Do you want your files back Malfoy?"

"No Granger, you can have them," he retorted sarcastically. "Of course I want them back."

She handed the files over, her honey colored eyes never leaving his. "Now if you'll get out of the way, I have somewhere important to be," she said, her snippy tone back.

"Be my guest," he said snarkily, sidestepping his way around her and continuing his journey to the lift. Gods she was annoying. She'd run into him, yet she had the audacity to blame him for being in the way. Something must have gotten her hair into knots; more so than it already was. He looked at the clock in the lift and realized that it was the time he normally left anyways; running into Granger must have wasted more time than he had originally thought. He exited the lift and was walking across the atrium when he heard his name being called by none other than the perfect Chosen One.

"Potter, I'm not doing this now," he hissed, turning to face the bespectacled head of the Auror department.

"Malfoy, you've been avoiding my messages. What if I had to tell you something important?" Harry demanded.

"If it was that important, you would have broken down my door already Potter," Draco said rationally, his face twisted into a cold sneer.

"You still don't know that it isn't important," Harry argued, his temper flaring.

"I'll take my chances," Draco jeered, turning and walking away from the exasperated man.

He walked to the fireplaces and immediately flooed home; his heart dropping when he saw the owl perched outside his door. It was Friday; that meant dinner at his parent's house. Maybe he could claim he was sick to get out of it? No that wouldn't work. I never get sick.. They'd never believe that story, he chastised himself. There really wasn't any excuse for him to not go over to his parent's house, except for the fact that he just didn't want to go. He sighed in defeat; jumping in surprise at the small voice that came from behind him.

"I is sorry to has disturbed you Master...Is Master going to his parent's estate this evening?" the petite house elf asked quietly.

"You didn't disturb me Rillie," he said, straightening his robes. "And yes, I am going tonight, so you needn't prepare dinner."

"Yes Master," Rillie said in a small voice. "Is Master needing anything?"

"No thank you Rillie," he said, striding down the hall of the Manor. He really needed to change before he went to his parent's house.

Rillie nodded, and disappeared with a small pop as Draco ascended the stairs to his room. He entered the spacious area, tossing the files onto the nearest table; discarding his slightly dirty robes as well. He looked in his closet for a moment before selecting a set of freshly purchased charcoal colored robes; throwing them on over his white button up shirt. If he didn't hurry, he'd be late, and then he really would be dead. Tardiness was not something that was praised highly in the Malfoy home. He sighed, giving his reflection a once over in the mirror before heading over to the fireplace; taking a pinch of floo powder and disappearing in a flash of green flame.

He stepped out of the fireplace at his parent's estate, brushing a few soot particles from his new robes and running his fingers through his hair.

"Draco," his mother smiled, entering the room and pulling him into a tight embrace. "You made it."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything in the world mother," he responded, giving her a small smile. Not entirely true, but saying the truth wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Dinner is ready in the dining room if you're ready," his mother offered, placing her small hand on Draco's arm.

He nodded, following Narcissa out of the room, his hands in the pockets of his robes. He liked this house. It was much smaller than the manor, but it still surpassed the size of many other pureblood estates. It had been his family's summer estate while he had been attending Hogwarts, but after he had graduated, his parents had moved out permanently, leaving the manor to him which he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with or not. The manor was his childhood home yes, but it held memories of things he'd much like to forget as well. They entered the dining room and Draco removed his hands from his pockets as he was confronted with his father. They had returned to speaking terms at the end of the previous year, but things were still rather tense between them.

"Draco," Lucius addressed his son cordially. "Glad to see you could make it."

"I wouldn't dream of missing it," Draco replied evenly, repeating a similar phrase to the one he had recited to his mother.

"I hope you're hungry," Narcissa said, her eyes shining with excitement.

Draco looked at his mother, his forehead furrowed with slight confusion. "Your mother has been indulging in a new hobby," Lucius informed him.

Narcissa beamed at her husband before turning her shining gaze back to Draco. "I found it takes my mind off of things… and I rather enjoy it. It's quite a bit like potions in a way."

Draco smiled. Potions had been one of his mother's favorite subjects when she had attended Hogwarts, and it had carried into her married life. It was one of the reasons that the manor had it's own potions lab. His father had created it for his mother on their third wedding anniversary. He was glad that his mother had found something that made her happy again; he'd missed her smile. It had been a prevalent thing during his childhood, but as he grew older, Narcissa's smile had become a rare thing to witness.

"Sit, sit," Narcissa prodded, excited for him to try the meal.

Draco complied and pulled out one of the beechwood chairs, taking a seat. Narcissa smiled at the chair Lucius had pulled out for her; tucking her robes underneath her as she sat. Once Lucius had taken his seat at the head of the table, the meal started. Draco didn't recognize the dish-probably something French, seeing as his mother was fascinated with French culture- but despite not knowing what it was, he rather enjoyed it. She'd even added some French wine to the meal. Classy, he thought, taking a sip of the burgundy liquid.

"How is it?" Narcissa asked, watching her son intently as he finished swallowing.

"Delicious," he replied honestly. "You have a gift mother."

Narcissa beamed, her eyes sparkling with delight. "I'm glad you like it," she said, keeping her excitement contained. "How is work treating you?" she asked, placing her napkin on the side of her plate as she took a sip of her wine.

"It's treating me as well as can be expected," Draco responded, downing the rest of the red beverage.

"Have you done any more travelling?" Narcissa asked hopefully. She loved hearing about the different places her son visited on his business trips.

"Not recently," he replied, noticing the shred of disappointment that flashed through his mother's eyes. "But I am going to the Islands early next week."

"Really?" Narcissa said, her eyes lighting up again. "Oh I've read about them! They sound so lovely; all that sun… and imagine all the interesting plants you could find there. And the ocean. I love the ocean," she trailed.

Draco flinched slightly at his mother's words. After the Second Wizarding War, his family had escaped being sentenced to Azkaban-how he still didn't know-but there had been restrictions put in place. One of said restrictions was that his parents had to remain in the perimeters of Wizarding London; meaning they could no longer travel as his mother had loved to do. It was one of the things he regretted about what had happened to his family. He hated seeing his mother upset.

"So you've been to see your aunt," Narcissa said quietly, her eyes searching Draco's face.

He fought to keep his face impassive, but his disgust won out. "I wish you'd stop doing that mother. It's a blatant disrespect of privacy."

"Draco," Lucius warned, his eyes flashing over the edge of his wine glass.

"No Lucius," Narcissa sighed. "He's right. It is disrespectful… I'm just worried about you," she said turning towards her son. "Call it mother's intuition, but I could tell something was off about you and I knew you would never tell me if I asked…"

"So you just had to enter my brain," Draco said, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Don't take it the wrong way Draco," Narcissa pleaded. "You've just been extremely distant with us, and I just… I wanted to make sure you were alright. And not just the 'alright' that you claim."

"Well now that you know, what are you going to do? Disown me just like you did to your sister?" he hissed, causing his mother to flinch.

"No…" she whispered. "I would never disown you. I should have never have disowned Andromeda then either; but I was young and foolish, and perfectly content to do whatever my parents told me to. I've made many mistakes in my past Draco, but I don't want to tear our family apart any more."

"Glad we're finally owning up to our miserable lives," Draco grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"I know you're angry Draco, and some of it is probably from your conversation with Andromeda," Narcissa admitted. "But please don't take it out on us… we're all each other has."

Draco glared at his plate; which disappeared seconds later, much to his annoyance. He was sick of all of this. Absolutely sick. His life was a mess, and had been for a long while, and honestly there wasn't much he could do about it.

"Draco, I'm not going to hate you because you went and talked with Andromeda," Narcissa said gently, tapping her foot quietly against the floor. "I've been considering going and trying to amend things with her myself… I'm just not sure if I can."

Lucius sat at the head of the table, watching the whole interaction without saying a word. His son was obviously agitated, and his wife was trying hard to fix things but with no avail. Draco was right to be upset, he mentally sighed. Everything was such a mess.

"Draco listen to me," Narcissa said suddenly, reaching out to grab her son's shoulder. "There's things that we taught you that aren't right… things that we never should have endorsed. We can't take them back now, but that doesn't mean that we don't love you more than anything else in or out of this world."

Draco clenched his jaw, avoiding his mother's eyes. He could feel her anxiously waiting for his response; but he didn't know if he could give her the one she wanted. He finally turned to meet her pale blue eyes with his icy grey ones; he sighed and gave her a small nod. Narcissa smiled, and removed her hand from his shoulder; content with his answer.

"Now," she said, rising from the table, closely followed by Lucius. "I know this was a rather different dinner than we usually have, but I am glad you came. It was so nice to see you Draco."

Draco nodded, allowing his mother to hug him again as he rose from his seat. He shared a small glance with his father as he left the dining room and headed for the nearest fireplace. Just what he needed. More to think about, he grumbled internally as he left the estate in a blur of green flame.

...

"Hey Blaise," Hermione said hesitantly, walking into his office at the Ministry. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure Granger," he replied, setting his quill lightly in the inkwell. "What can I do for you?"

"I just had some questions about the whole 'pureblood' thing…" Hermione said, looking at him hesitantly.

"Sure," he said with a shrug. "Fire away."

"Why isn't your family on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list?" Hermione asked, hoping her question wasn't too pushy.

"Because my family isn't actually all pureblood," Blaise said simply. "We're just considered part of the pureblood loop because of our affiliation with Salazar Slytherin, Voldemort, and openly hating on muggle-borns, half-bloods and muggles."

"That doesn't make sense," Hermione said, somewhat to herself. "You aren't pureblood yourself, yet you terrorize those who don't have pure blood."

"Terrorized," Blaise said with emphasis on the past tense. "That was a long time ago Granger. Does it look like I have any problems with non purebloods now?"

"No," Hermione admitted, blushing slightly. "Sorry, I just-"

"Granger," Blaise interrupted. "You don't need to apologize. It was a simple question; a simple reaction. It's not a big deal."

Hermione nodded, biting on her lower lip.

"What else did you want to ask me?" Blaise asked, an easy smirk playing on his lips.

"Who said anything about me wanting to ask you anything else?" Hermione replied teasingly.

"Oh come on Granger," Blaise snorted. "It's you. Of course you have more questions."

"That's not fair!" Hermione exclaimed. "I don't always have more than one question."

"More often than not," Blaise smirked. "Continue."

Hermione attempted to glare at him, but just ended up laughing instead. "Alright you win. I did have another question, but this one is much more serious."

"Shoot," Blaise said, feigning panic. "Merlin forbid I be serious for a little while."

"Seriously Blaise," Hermione scoffed. "You're such a drama queen."

"Thank you," Blaise responded, his face completely serious. "Now continue."

` Hermione rolled her eyes, but did as he requested. "Alright, I was doing some research on pureblood families while I was at Hogwarts, and I didn't really find anything. However I did think of something that could be our answer."

"Okaaay," Blaise said, looking at her with a blank expression. "So what's the big reveal?"

"Do you think it would be possible for this recent Death Eater activity to be… you know, the work of the children?"

Blaise snorted again. "Yes Granger. Children can cast the Dark Mark in the sky, and kill a family of four people."

Hermione groaned. "That's not what I meant and you know it," she accused. "I'm talking about the children of Death Eaters. The kids who maybe didn't ever join… but now are feeling the need for revenge? They could be feeling an urge to get out some anger over their parent's sentences or deaths or something…. Do you think that's a possibility?"

Blaise said nothing for a moment; his chin resting in his hands, and a pensive look on his face. Finally he nodded slowly. "Yeah, that could be something. Don't know if it's what actually happened, but there could definitely be youth out there feeling like that. Even people my age."

Hermione nodded, scribbling something down in a notebook. "So how could we figure out if these kids are feeling like that, or even acting on those feelings? They aren't exactly going to proclaim it to the world…"

"No," Blaise admitted, his eyes lighting with an idea. "But they might let something slip when they happen to be… inebriated."

...

"Why am I here again?" Draco asked, staring moodily out the window.

"I told you already Drake," Blaise answered, "We're going to that 'underground pureblood' club. We're going undercover in a way."

"Except that we won't really be undercover," Pansy added, looking at her reflection in the mirror; applying more lipstick as she went.

"We're going to try and see if we can spot any… Death Eater like activity among the crazy young adults of our society," Blaise said, smirking as they rounded the corner of the street.

"I don't see why I have to be here," Draco grumbled.

"People recognize you better than us," Pansy replied. "They might be more able to let something slip around you."

"Thanks," Draco sneered. "Glad to know I'm still known as a shady character."

"Oh relax Draco," Blaise laughed. "Besides, you love getting wasted."

"He does not," Pansy argued, hitting Blaise on the arm. "That was once, and as I recall, you were tanked too."

That shut Blaise up and they walked in silence for a moment before Blaise turned down into a dark alleyway.

"Well this doesn't look suspicious," Pansy commented, walking a little closer to Blaise. "Besides, I don't see any big neon club signs around here."

"That's the point Pansy," Blaise said, stopping in front of an old 'maintenance' door. "It's supposed to be an underground operation."

He tapped his wand on the door, muttering a password that the duo behind him couldn't hear. Immediately the door swung open; loud, bass-boosted music filling the small alley.

"Ladies first," Blaise teased, offering the doorway to Pansy.

"That means you Draco," Pansy blurted, pushing him through the door; watching as he stumbled into the room.

"What?" she defended, as Blaise gave her an exasperated look. "There was no way in Salazar's inheritance I was going through that door first."

"Merlin Pansy, you're acting like a Hufflepuff," Blaise accused, pushing her towards the door.

"I am not!" she exclaimed indignantly, stomping through the door.

Blaise grinned and followed her in, shutting the door soundly behind them. He smiled as the full effects of the room hit him over the head. Wizard clubs were much different from muggle clubs. The music only reached certain parts of the room; specifically the door and the dance floor. Those areas had the pounding music that you could feel rattle your bones and resonate in your core. There were card tables were brutal matches of exploding snap and wizards chess were played; usually with major losses in galleons and fortunes for the young wizards and witches that loved to waste their parents' inheritances. Lastly were the bars. They lined almost the entire room; their cushioned seats filled with witches and wizards who were perfectly content to let the whole night slip through their memory.

"Hey will you stop ogling that witch and tell me what I'm supposed to be doing again?" Pansy hissed, hitting him upside his head with the flat of her palm.

"I'm not ogling," he defended, swatting her hand away. "I'm basking in the surroundings of a place I don't get to go often."

"Whatever," Pansy muttered, running her fingers through her short brown curls. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Spice up your feminine charm Pans," Draco murmured from behind her. "Get people to talk to you."

"Specifically drunk people," Blaise mentioned. "They talk easier."

"I don't know any of these people," Pansy whispered, looking around the dimly lit room. "I can't just talk to people I don't know!"

"You'll find it's much easier than would think," Draco said, putting his hands in the pockets of his grey trousers. "Also, if you ever do that to me again, I will hex you."

"Fine," Pansy hissed, obviously frazzled. "What are you two going to be doing?"

"Same thing as you," Blaise said, smirking at a blonde that winked at him as she walked by.

"You know… just without the whole feminine charm," Draco smirked, earning himself a well-placed face smack from Pansy.

"Fine, well if I get hit on by any creeps tonight, you both are going to pay BIG time," Pansy hissed, adjusting her black dress.

Blaise chuckled to himself as he watched Pansy trail away; his eyes lingering on her retreating form.

"Seriously mate," Draco groaned. "When were you planning on telling me that you're head over heels for her?"

Blaise snorted. "I don't know what you're talking about. You know that me, you and Pansy are like siblings."

"And obviously at one point, that 'sibling' relationship developed into something more," Draco said quietly, his grey eyes blank as he stared at Blaise.

"Whatever you say Drake," Blaise laughed, walking over to the wizard's chess table, leaving Draco to his own devices among the games, people and drinks.

That's where Blaise found him and Pansy later that evening. Sitting comfortably at the bar; drinking and talking. Blaise sighed and walked over, interrupting their pleasant evening.

"We're leaving," he said briskly, taking Pansy's glass out of her hand; oblivious to her protests.

"I thought you were the one who was so over-enthusiastic to be here tonight," Draco responded into his glass.

"I was ready to find the information that we needed," Blaise replied, finishing the contents of the glass he had taken from Pansy. "And now that I have, we are leaving. Now."

"Come on Blaise," Pansy whined, glaring at him through her dark brown lashes. "Yeah we got the information I guess, but can't we just stay and enjoy ourselves? We came all this way and I don't want to waste it because you got your pants in a twist."

"It's not just my pants that will be in a twist," Blaise hissed, grabbing her elbow. "Have you seen anyone suspicious tonight Pansy?"

"Blaise, I think you've had a bit too much to drink," Pansy protested, yanking her arm from his grip. "Everyone here looks suspicious."

"Blaise, you need to calm down," Draco agreed, setting his empty glass on the table. "Whatever set you off is probably not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Blaise asked, grabbing Draco's jacket. "Tell me Draco. Who do you see sitting over there on the maroon couch?"

Draco sighed heavily, turning to appease his obviously confused friend. He scanned the room; his eyes pausing when he figured out what Blaise had been on about. There, on the couch sat a fiery redhead, talking to someone who could prove to be very dangerous.