Chapter 10

The dripping sound was the first thing that Anthea noticed when she woke up. Her head was pounding and it hurt to open her eyes because of the fluorescent light flickering above her head. Her whole body jolted into action when she remembered the knock on the door. There had been a hooded man standing in the doorway, his body poised as if ready to strike... and he did strike. That was the last thing that she remembered before everything went black.

Forcing herself to ignore her headache, she opened her eyes slightly. Anthea took a deep breath in to calm down but coughed as she inhaled dust. Looking around, she realized that she was in a nondescript basement. She scanned the area for an escape and her gaze settled on the cellar doors. Anthea raised her arm, then froze when she heard a clanking sound. Her wrists were shackled to the wall. Fear seized her and she panicked, trying everything she could to escape her restraints. She didn't know how long she pulled at them before she gave up.

Anthea was about to release a sob as her hopeless situation sunk in, but she was scared of drawing her captor's attention. She didn't know where he was. Every sound was pronounced, leaving her to wonder if he was the cause of them or if it was just the house itself. Tears streamed down her face and she hoped that Hermione had noticed that she was taken. Her best friend was the best at her job. Hermione would find her... right?

Minutes or hours later, footsteps thundered down the stairs. Anthea made herself as small as possible and wished that this was all just a bad dream, that at any moment, she would wake up and be in her bedroom. Why hadn't she checked the peephole at her door? Why had she felt safe to open the door to a stranger? She held her breath as the hooded figure entered her line of vision. Her heart raced in her chest as she wondered what he was going to do to her. Why did he take her? He walked up to her and crouched so that they were at eye level.

He pulled back his hood. "Hello Anthea, it's been awhile. We have so much to catch up on."

When Harry walked into Draco's flat, he paused as he took in the scene in front of him. The blond had his arms wrapped around Hermione and he was rubbing her back while she trembled, her head against his chest. It was an intimate moment and Harry felt awkward for intruding – before remembering that they had summoned him. He was contemplating on how to draw their attention when Draco spotted him. He whispered something to Hermione and they released each other.

"Did you tell Weasley?" Draco asked.

Harry nodded. "I sent him a Patronus as soon as I received yours. What happened?"

"The killer sent us a message. He has taken one of Granger's friends and we have twenty-four hours to find her before she dies," he said.

"Where's the message?"

Hermione straightened up and wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve. "An auto-destruct letter. I just had enough time to show Malfoy what it said before it caught fire."

Receiving a message from the killer broke the pattern. It was suspicious and two questions popped into his head: was it a copycat and if not, what had changed? Draco disappeared into the kitchen and returned with tea. It didn't seem like the time for something so trivial, but it was a good idea because Hermione still looked like she was in shock. He grabbed a steaming cup of earl grey and sat down.

"Did he send you an owl?" Harry asked.

His question seemed to startle Hermione. "No. I was leaving Flourish and Blotts when someone ran into me. My books went flying and the person that had run into me didn't stop to help. It wasn't until I picked everything up that I found the letter."

Draco cursed. "Did you see what he looked like?"

"No, it took me by surprise. I think he was wearing a cloak but I can't be sure."

"What did the message say?" Harry asked.

"Since you think you know me so well, I have a little game for you to play. I have taken dear Anthea. You have twenty-four hours to find her or she meets the same end as all of those other girls. Have you found all eleven of them yet? I didn't think so... See I know all about you and your team, I know what makes you tick and you don't know a thing about me. Your time starts as soon as this letter turns to ash," Draco said.

Harry repeated the words over and over trying to understand the message. Since you think you know me so well was a jab at their press conference. The killer was changing the game to throw them off, to regain control of the situation. That's why he was playing this game. He wanted to throw their ineptitude in their face… eleven murders. The way that he highlighted it made it significant. He was counting the kills, but why? To see how many he was able to murder before he was caught? Or was he aiming for a specific number? I know all about your team is the reason why Anthea was chosen. The healer was one of Hermione's best friends, a woman that he had only met a handful of times. She was an attractive, feisty witch and Harry hoped that she was alright.

"Where is Ron?" Harry muttered. "How long ago did the letter catch fire?"

"Twenty minutes ago. He's killed eleven women. How were we able to miss so many?" Draco asked while Harry marked down the time.

"What number of kills would he want to reach for?"

"Thirteen," Hermione said. She still looked pale, but she had stopped shaking and there was a fire in her eyes that hadn't been there when he first arrived. It was one of the reasons that Harry respected her, she was always able to pull herself together when it counted. "It is an important magical number, equally as important as seven. This information will help us narrow our search for what ritual he might be after."

Draco nodded. "That makes sense. Where are we with the matchmaking service?"

"They won't allow us to see their client list until we have a warrant. I have sent in my request and I'm just waiting to hear back on it," Harry said. "While we wait, let's go to Anthea's flat and see if he's left anything behind."

The blond walked down the corridor and Hermione stood up to put away the tea set. She had barely touched her cup. Harry wanted to say something to comfort her, but he couldn't think of the right words to say. Hermione was the person that he interacted the least with on the team and it bothered him that he felt awkward. She had always been a sister to him. Harry helped her clean up and once they had were finished, he decided to toss caution to the wind. Harry pulled her into a hug. It was the right call because she relaxed into him.

"We will find Anthea, I promise."

"You can't promise me something like that," she said, her voice muffled in his shirt. "I'm scared for her."

"We will find the bastard. He made a mistake when he chose to disrupt the peace that we worked so hard for, that we bled for. He will pay for taking Anthea," Harry said, releasing her.

They contacted the forensic team and Hermione was surprised to see how quickly they appeared. It was the night crew, people that she had never seen before. Harry had filled them in on the situation while Malfoy stood beside her. It was both irritating and considerate, the way that Harry and Malfoy were treating her. They each showed their support in their own way and she knew that she could count on them. They had given her the strength and the determination to push past her fear and now she was focused on the task at hand: finding Anthea.

She watched as the team ran through the protocols, casting spell after spell to reveal evidence. It was almost like watching a light show, the way the different hues made the room glow for half a second. Hermione bit her lip, hoping that this was the moment that the killer had made a mistake. If Anthea fought back and made him bleed, they could figure out who the killer was.

They found out that her friend had been on shift today and had gone home after six pm, which meant that she was either kidnapped en route or at home. It took an hour for the team to complete their tests and they pulled Harry aside to tell him the findings. She could still read her friend like a book and Hermione knew that they hadn't found anything.

"I think we should have a look ourselves," Harry suggested. "I don't know what we're looking for, but hopefully we find something."

Hermione walked through the flat and had trouble breathing as she took in the details. Nothing was out of place. She could picture Anthea walking into the room and telling her that it was all a bad dream, and of course, she wasn't being held hostage. It was one of those moments that she prayed that there had been a huge misunderstanding, but Anthea never appeared.

After inspecting every inch of her home, the brunette knew that the last place the healer had been was in the kitchen. Carrots and broccoli were left abandoned on the cutting board. She opened the oven and found a raw, marinated chicken waiting to be cooked.

"He had access to this flat as well," Harry said. "There's no sign of forced entry or a struggle."

Hermione frowned. "She isn't a part of Goldstein's warding network. I warned her about it."

"She also knew the killer, then. She let him inside," Malfoy said.

Hermione walked to her friend's desk and sat down. There was a picture of her and Anthea giggling and dancing, oblivious to the camera. Ginny had taken that picture on one of their outings and it brought a sad smile to her face. Would they have another girls' night? The desk did not yield any clues and Malfoy signalled for her to join him in the living room. He was reading a MagicMatch letter.

"Guess who Anthea was seeing?" he said.

"Who?" Harry asked, joining them.

"Nathanial Ward," Malfoy said.

Hermione took a look at the letter. "I knew that I had a bad feeling about him."

"Let's not jump to conclusions until we've interrogated him," the blond said. "We need to keep an open mind if we want to find her. Where is Weasley?"

Harry sighed. "I don't know. I'll send him a letter, maybe something's come up."

Ron was not having a good day. He had reached out to Mr and Mrs Parkinson after realizing that he wanted to propose to Pansy. She hadn't been close to her parents since the war ended. There were several fights about blood purity and the expectations that she was supposed to meet as their only daughter. The words arranged marriage had been tossed around before Pansy finally had enough and walked out of their lives. Although she claimed that she was better off without them, Ron could see the sadness in her eyes whenever they visited the Burrow or saw a family when they were out and about. Pansy loved her parents and he wanted to bring them together despite their complex issues.

Pansy told him that she resented them for raising her to be a Death Eater's daughter. Etiquette lessons were shoved down her throat and the stories of the glory days (Voldemort's first uprising) was the topic of discussion at every social function. It had been drilled into her since she was born.

When their relationship had become serious, it had taken Ron weeks to convince Pansy to meet Harry. She thought that Harry hated her for offering him up to Voldemort during the Final Battle. It was true that his best mate didn't love his choice in girlfriend, but he managed to convince Harry to give her a shot. It wasn't until Cho pulled him aside at dinnertime and explained Pansy's point of view that Ron fully understood where his girlfriend was coming from.

"Are you ready?" he asked when she joined him in the sitting room. Pansy shook her head and flattening out her dress. "They love you. It will be okay, you'll see."

"My family isn't like yours. They never read me a bedtime story or kissed my cuts when I was a child. My mother was off with the other pureblood bitches and my father was working. Draco, Blaise, Daphne, and I raised ourselves," Pansy said quietly.

"Well if it doesn't go well, then we leave and chalk it up as a bad idea," Ron said.

Together, they apparated to the gates that led to Pansy's childhood home - leaving at exactly the same time Harry's Patronus arrived, missing it completely.

As soon as they landed, his jaw dropped. Her house wasn't as large as Malfoy Manor, but it was just as grand. With an ease of someone who had grown up with such luxury, Pansy barely glanced at the house and walked through the gate. He followed her, suddenly terrified that Pansy's parents wouldn't approve of him. He should have bought new dress robes like Pansy had suggested. Even though he had the money to buy a new pair, his current ones were still in relatively good condition and he didn't see the need to. Now, he understood why his girlfriend had hinted at it.

She knocked on the door and a house elf opened up, her eyes widening at seeing Pansy. The elf stuttered and led them through the winding hallways until they were shown into the dining room. There was a long table that seated at least twenty people with four spots prepared for them and floating candles lit up the room. It was rather neat but his admiration for his surroundings was interrupted when her parents walked through the door.

Ron wasn't sure what he was expecting. They hadn't seen their daughter in eight years, so a warm greeting would have made sense. If he hadn't talked to his own mum for that long, she would have scooped him up and crushed him in a hug before forcing him to eat at least two full plates of food. Ron snuck a look at Pansy in the corner of his eye and saw that she was nervous. She shifted her weight to the other foot as she waited to see what her parents would do. A full minute passed as they all looked at each other before Mr Parkinson cleared his throat.

"Pansy, it is nice to see you. Thank you for arranging this, Mr Weasley," he said before gesturing for them to take a seat at the table.

He knew that she was hurt at their reception by the way she lifted her chin like she was preparing for battle. Ron put a hand on the small of her back in a show of support and she gave him a small smile. They all took their seats and the house elves served the first course. They ate in silence, the only sound was the scraping of the utensils on the plates. Mrs Parkinson was observing him like she was waiting for him to fumble with proper table etiquette. Ron was happy that he was able to prove her wrong. Just because his own parents didn't bother with such formality didn't mean that he didn't know how to be a proper gentleman.

"What is it that you do, Mr Weasley?" Mr Parkinson asked, breaking the awkward silence.

Ron waited until he finished chewing before answering. "I am a Hit Wizard at the Ministry."

"I hear that they don't get paid much," Mrs Parkinson commented.

"I'm not sure where you have heard that. I get paid a good salary."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "He has enough money that he doesn't need to work, Mother."

"Is that why you are with him?"

"Excuse me," his fiancée said, while Ron wisely kept silent. "You don't talk to me for eight bloody years because I told you to shove your blood purity up your arse and the first thing you do when you see me is to accuse me of being a gold digger?"

"I was hoping that you had seen some sense. Mr Weasley is not my first choice but he is still worthier than some of the other filth that you have dated in the past," Mrs Parkinson sniffed.

"Instead of focusing on me and my good qualities, maybe we should talk about Pansy instead. Did you know that she has recently been promoted?" Ron said.

He placed his hand on Pansy's thigh hoping that she would stay calm. It seemed like her father genuinely wanted to learn more about his daughter as he leaned in with interest. He was a tall, slender man and Ron knew that was where Pansy got her height from. Mrs Parkinson was a beautiful woman but the haughty look on her face made her look like she had sucked on a sour lemon. It was clear that she got her stubbornness from her mother.

"I wasn't aware you were working," Mr Parkinson said. "What do you do?"

"I am a writer for Witch Weekly."

Mrs Parkinson scoffed. "That trash? I can't believe that my daughter is working. Where did I go wrong with your upbringing?"

"Delilah, enough," Mr Parkinson interrupted. "If your intention tonight was to judge and criticize our daughter, then I suggest that you leave. I have waited for years to right the wrongs that I made as a father and I will not let you ruin the second chance that I have been given."

Pansy's mother looked like she was going reply. Instead, she stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

"Daddy, you didn't have to do that."

He smiled sadly. "Yes, I did. I have let her control you for too long. And it was worth it just to hear you call me Daddy again."

They were interrupted by an owl pecking at the window. The house elf retrieved the letter and brought it to Ron. He paled when he saw Harry's penmanship on the letter and quickly read the letter. He stood up and kissed Pansy's cheek.

"I am sorry, but I have to go. There's been a new development in the case. Thank you for having me over, Mr Parkinson," Ron said before turning to Pansy. "Will you be alright?"

She glanced at her father before nodding. "I think we'll just fine."

"Thank you for arranging this, Mr Weasley. And please call me Henry, we are to be family after all," he said with a small smile.

Ron nodded before disappearing out the door, wondering what had happened at work. Too little time had passed for there to be another murder victim.

Draco knocked on the door three times before he could hear someone moving inside the flat. It hadn't taken them long to find Nate's address and when he opened the door, it was clear that they had woken him up. His hair was sticking up at the back of his head and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Has there been another body?" Nate asked, his voice hoarse.

"You are under arrest for the kidnapping of Anthea Davis and the murder of eleven women. You have the right to remain silent –" Draco said, telling him the rest of his rights.

Potter waved his wand so that Nate was handcuffed with a spell the Ministry had authorized for arrests. The medical examiner complied with them as Potter grabbed their suspect's shoulder and side-apparated him to the Ministry like they had previously agreed. Draco glanced at his watch before following them.

"Where were you between five and eight yesterday night?" Harry asked.

"I was at my flat cooking dinner," Nate answered. "What is this all about? What do you mean that Anthea has been kidnapped?"

"Was anyone with you?" Draco asked.

He shook his head.

"Do you recognize this woman?" Harry asked as he opened a file and held up Anthea's picture.

Nate looked both irritated and worried if such a combination was possible. "Yes, obviously I know her, I have been asking about her since you arrested me. You said she was kidnapped, do you think that the killer had anything to do with this?"

"What is your relationship with Miss Davis?"

Hermione paced as she watched the interrogation unfold from the adjacent room. Harry had forbidden her from interacting with the medical examiner saying that she was too close to the case. He was a hypocrite. How many times had he broken the rules when someone he loved was threatened? She was itching to get in there, to demand Anthea's location from him. Hermione should have known that something had changed when he joined her and Malfoy for lunch the other day. The answer had been dangling right in front of her and she hadn't done anything about it. Why was he pretending to be so worried about her?

"What did I miss?" Ron said, bursting through the door. "Why is Nate in there?"

"Where have you been? Harry sent a Patronus and a letter," she snapped.

"I was dealing with a personal matter. Can you get me up to speed?"

Hermione quickly filled him in, not wanting to miss a second of the interrogation. Ron started to protest that they had the wrong person and that Nate wasn't a murderer but Hermione tuned him out and focused on the interview at hand. She had to admit that Harry and Malfoy were good at their jobs. They were using different techniques, trying to get a rise out of the medical examiner.

"Anthea is my girlfriend. We have been dating for the past two months."

Harry wrote something down. "How did you meet?"

"We met on MagicMatch. We were exclusive after a few weeks of dating. Please, what has happened to her?" Nate said and she could hear the fear in his voice. Maybe he was a good actor?

"Do you know if she has any enemies?" Malfoy asked.

"No, I don't think so. She seemed to get on with her coworkers and her patients."

Harry and Malfoy asked him for his alibi during the other murders. The only alibi that Nate had that didn't include Anthea was Padma Patil's murder. Hermione wrote the information down intending to check it out when Ron grabbed the information out of her hand.

"I'll go. I realize that you're under a lot of stress but it isn't him," the redhead said, leaving the room.

When Harry and Malfoy were finished with their questions, they joined Hermione. She could see in their faces that they didn't think that Nate was guilty and she had a sinking feeling that they were right. Hermione heard the way that he talked about Anthea. Nate loved her.

"Do you think that the killer is working with someone else?" Malfoy asked.

Hermione shook her head. "None of the crime scenes indicate that there was a second person. We only found two sets of footprints at the last crime scene, Reiling and the killer's."

"If his alibi for Padma's murder checks out, then that means that it's not Nate," Harry said.

"Then we wasted our time following a lead that led us nowhere. Five hours have passed and we haven't found anything!"

Malfoy put his hand on her arm. "Focus, Granger. We're working as fast as we can. It took one hour to explain things to Harry and to dissect the note. Two hours to process Anthea's flat. One hour to find where Nate lived, bring him in, and process him. And we spent an hour interviewing him. We couldn't go any faster than that without compromising the quality of our work."

"What if the killer is hurting her while we're all standing here? We don't know where she's being held or who the killer is," she said blinking away her tears, "I don't know what I would do if I lost her."

"We won't lose her," Harry said. "We'll continue looking at the previous murders. There has to be something that we missed. Can you bring the files in here while we wait for Ron to verify his alibi?"

Before she reached the door, Ron ran into the room with a trail of boxes behind him.

"Nate's alibi checked out. I checked with his two friends that he was at the Leaky with. He was too drunk to apparate so he crashed at his buddy John's flat, which he verified," he said and saw their grim expressions. "All is not lost. The judge gave us the warrant for MagicMatch's records and I went to get the client lists. They were annoyed that it was so early in the morning, so they gave us all of their records instead of the ones that we requested."

Without another word, Harry entered the interrogation room and set Nate free. They exchanged words before they joined the rest of the group in the adjacent room. "I told Nate that he could help us."

Hermione fiddled with her sleeve. "Why were you acting so weird the other day?"

"Anthea was going to tell you that we were dating. I wanted to get to know you because I know that you're her best friend, but I was nervous," Nate said, his eyes strangely bright. "The letter that you saw was the first letter that she sent me."

"Okay," she said, not quite sure how to answer him.

He shrugged. "I'm glad that you interrogated me though, it shows that you're being thorough."

"Enough with the sentimental crap, let's get started," Malfoy said, opening the first MagicMatch box and the rest quickly followed suit.