Chapter Ten

As much as he usually hated St Mungo's, this time Harry was glad they were there. It was still tense and uncomfortable and the air still reeked of different potions that made Harry feel sick, ironically, but at least he felt come semblance of relief at being here and not the Aurors' office.

The second Malfoy had spoken, Harry and Hermione kicked into action, with Ginny looking a little more lost but helping nonetheless. Harry had apparated them all as close to St. Mungo's as possible, seeing as the increasing amount of Aurors at his front door had been making Narcissa lose control more and more and he knew it would have been impossible to convince said Aurors to back off for a moment.

He had instructed Ginny to take Malfoy and his mother inside the hospital while he and Hermione dealt with the soon-to-come avalanche of Aurors that might think they were on the run. And maybe they were, Harry still didn't know what had happened to The Malfoys and maybe he was aiding recurring criminals, but he knew that if Draco Malfoy had shown up at his front door asking for help, then he should act immediately.

The last time a Malfoy had come to him for help, the Second Wizarding War was won.

The Aurors had agreed to let St Mungo's handle Draco and Narcissa for now, but they insisted that Narcissa had been out of bounds in accordance with her parole, and their obligation was to detain her and anyone who helped her escape. It was clear this was not over yet, but with the help of Ron and Kingsley, he didn't think it would be difficult to drop his, Hermione's and Ginny's charges of assisting a fugitive. As for Draco's and Narcissa's charges, that was still to be seen.

"What did they say?" Harry asked Hermione, getting to his feet from one of the waiting room chairs. Ginny did the same.

Hermione seemed shook up, the lines on her forehead deepening. "Narcissa is completely out. They had to sedate her. She didn't look good."

Harry felt sorrow and pity all at once; he didn't think he had ever seen someone look so distraught and frightened. He didn't know if it was possible, but for a moment he thought she might just drop dead from the fear.

Hermione took a deep breath and relaxed somewhat. "But Draco is okay. I mean, they gave him something for the nerves and he's speaking with a mind healer about his and his mother's situation, but he seems to be fine."

Now that he knew they were out of danger, Harry couldn't sit back down. He knew this was probably the wrong time, but he wanted to know what had happened. "Did you ask about Lucius?"

Hermione nodded, but her face reverted back to worried. "Apparently a team of Healers went to get him after talking to Draco. He must be on his way."

"Can we talk to Malfoy now?" Ginny asked and then checked her watch. They must have been waiting for about an hour or two.

"I don't think so, not yet," Hermione replied. "What about Ron? He'll probably want to be here when we do get permission to talk to Malfoy."

"I tried calling him after we first talked to the Aurors, but no answer. I texted him, so when he checks his mobile phone he'll know to call back." Harry pulled out his mobile phone, but there was no reply from Ron yet, so he put it back in. "What should we do about our library and pub plan? Should we do it anyway? Or wait for Malfoy?"

The three of them looked at each other, particularly he and Hermione. He wasn't exactly sure what she was thinking, but if he had to guess, he'd say she was on the same page as him; and he wanted to stay.

It was hard to explain, but something told Harry that Malfoy was an important part of this whole mystery, for better or for worse, and he had learnt to trust his instincts, specially when it came to Malfoy. And he felt reassured by the fact that Hermione seemed to agree.

"Why don't you two stay?" Ginny said, taking a step back. "I can go to a couple of pubs, and maybe the library if I have time and I'll let you know if anything seems off."

"Are you sure, Gin?" Hermione asked, coming closer to her. "I can come as well."

"No, no, you and Harry, " Ginny lead Hermione back to where Harry was "should stay together. You two know Malfoy better anyway, I would just be third…well, a fourth wheel," she insisted and checked her watch again.

Harry frowned. It seemed as though Ginny was really hating being in St. Mungo's for so long. "Are you sure you want to go alone? You could wait for Ron to show up."

Ginny scoffed. "Please. Ron must be so distracted with Mr. Charm Zabini that he won't remember us for hours. Did you know that he has Ron's contact saved in his mobile phone with a winky face at the top of the list?" She wiggled her eyebrows and then laughed. She reminded Harry so much of Fred and George sometimes.

"I hope Ron's okay," said Hermione, her brow furrowing in concern.

Ginny waved her hand dismissively. "I really don't think Zabini would hurt a fly. He might bribe the fly, or try to buy it off with perfume, though."

"He'll be fine Hermione," Harry reassured her. "He's the only one of us who's actually trained for this."

She exhaled. "You're right. It just feels like we keep getting separated. The four of us were supposed to do the original plan together, then Ron had to leave and now Ginny is going alone? I swear, it felt easier to hunt horcruxes back in the day."

Ginny smiled sympathetically and Harry squeezed Hermione's hand. "May I remind you that that's what we're doing now too?"

"And getting separated doesn't have to be a bad thing," Ginny added as she let her hair down from her ponytail and straightened out her top. "The more ground we cover, the faster we catch the bastard behind this." She gave both Harry and Hermione a quick hug goodbye.

"Okay," Harry said when he hugged her back. "Just don't be like Ron and actually pay attention to your mobile phone in case we call."

"Sure thing." Ginny grinned, completely unafraid and carefree in a way that was both charming and worrying.

When she left, Harry and Hermione sat back down. It was only then that Harry realized he was still holding Hermione's hand, but even then he didn't let go. He could spend hours like this.

It was well over an hour later that someone came with news about Malfoy. Neither Ron nor Ginny had been in contact and Harry was getting really restless sitting there, so he was very relieved, but confused, when they were told Malfoy has asked for them.

"He wants to talk to us?" Hermione confirmed with the Healer, who nodded.

Malfoy sat in an armchair inside the Mental Spells Ward. For some reason Harry had imagined him in a hospital bed, but if he was fine then there was no reason for that. He seemed completely normal as far as Harry could tell, only perhaps a bit more tired than usual, but his hair and clothes were dry and immaculate, as well as his trademark posture and expression.

Harry and Hermione sat in front of him, and Harry had a sudden flashback of the time they saw Lockhart in this very Ward. He wondered if he was still here.

Malfoy cleared his throat in the silence. There was no one else in the room but them, even the Healer had left. "I wanted to say… Thank you."

Harry and Hermione shared a look.

"You're welcome," Harry answered, not really sure of what else to add.

Hermione nodded. "We were happy we could help."

It took Harry a few long seconds to realize that Malfoy was not planning on speaking again.

"So," Hermione began, looking uncomfortable. "The Healer said you wanted to talk to us?"

"Yes," Malfoy answered in the same monotone voice. "I wanted to thank you for helping me today."

Harry was starting to feel that very familiar annoyance that Malfoy brought out in him, like an itching under his skin that he couldn't ignore. "That's it? That's something you could have said in a letter and be done with it."

Malfoy's expression darkened and Harry noticed how he gripped the armrests tighter. "What did you expect, Potter? A compliment? Perhaps praise or my undying devotion?"

Hermione put her arm across Harry's chest to stop him from rising off his seat. He hadn't even realized he was doing it. "We just thought you could explain what happened."

Malfoy leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. "And why would I do that?"

"Because we saved your arse? Because we vouched for you and your mother even though you threatened to blackmail us earlier today? Because we honestly don't even know if we did the right thing because we have no idea what you were up to that alerted the Aurors!" Harry's patience was running thin, and he couldn't care less how traumatized Malfoy was or wasn't after tonight if he was going to behave like a prick.

Malfoy was clearly biting his tongue inside his mouth, probably trying to determine which insult to use on Harry.

"Harry's right," Hermione said. "This isn't over just because right now you're under St. Mungo's care; the Aurors are still going to ask questions, and we can't protect you, which right now doesn't really concern me…" Hermione completely ignored Malfoy's death glare "... But more importantly we can't protect Narcissa or Lucius if we don't know what happened. And you and I know they aren't able to protect themselves." She leaned forward, pinning Malfoy down with that particular unwavering stare that made Hermione terrifying at best. "You came to us asking for help but right now you seem like what you really want is for me to tell the authorities that we made a mistake by trusting you."

Malfoy and Hermione were in a stare-down, and even though Harry had to admit Malfoy was very good at lowering people's defences just with his eyes, he had no doubt Hermione would prevail here. Malfoy's ears were already turning red and then his mouth twitched. Harry felt like hugging Hermione for being so brilliant, but that surely wouldn't help. He couldn't held back a smirk, though.

"My father had a breakdown," Malfoy said through heavily gritted teeth. Hermione leaned back, clearly satisfied. "He found an old wand stored away in the cellar and began to stupefy all the house elves. By the time I realized what was happening my mother was running away from the house in a panic attack. I knew Aurors would arrive soon and that would only make her more nervous." Malfoy relaxed his jaw a bit and took a deep breath in the most angry way Harry had ever seen someone breathe. "The first thing that popped into my head was… You two." He looked between Harry and Hermione. "Clearly because I'd just spent the last few days trying to figure out what you were doing."

"Successfully figuring out what we were doing," Hermione corrected him. Harry wondered if she wanted to soften him up after making him angry.

Malfoy shrugged.

"How did you know where to find us?" Harry asked him. He had been wondering that ever since he saw Malfoy's blond hair through his peephole. After all the digging up Malfoy had done lately perhaps his address wasn't the most difficult thing to find, but he still wondered.

Malfoy hesitated for a second. "My mother. She used to go to Twelve Grimmauld's Place all the time when she was young. I'd known that address since I was a kid. After Sirius Black died we assumed he left the house to you"

Harry felt something strange and completely unfamiliar to him up until that point in his life; a connection with Malfoy. Even hearing him say Sirius' name was bizarre, because Harry's connections to his family were basically all gone when Sirius and Remus died. 12 Grimmauld's Place was the only thing left that represented that lost piece of Harry's world, and the thought of Malfoy actually being part of that made Harry feel… He couldn't really put his finger on it.

He knew Malfoy was technically Sirius' second cousin, but the implications of that had never really dawned on Harry. If things had been different, much different, perhaps Harry and Malfoy could have met as babies in the Black residence. They could have grown up knowing each other, playing with each other, talking to each other… Maybe even considering each other as family.

Harry shook himself out of those thoughts. It had been near impossible for that to happen and in any case it didn't matter now.

The silence continued for a few more seconds until Malfoy shifted in his seat. "Now you know what happened. Are you satisfied?"

Hermione shrugged one shoulder. "It's a start."

Malfoy looked like he finally might be losing his composure, exhaling loudly and running a hand through his hair. "I don't know what you want from me. Do you want me to give you a detailed account of everything that happens inside my house? Keep a log journal of everything me and my parents do? Brief you on my thoughts and feelings every hour of the day?"

Harry couldn't deny that that sounded very interesting to him for some reason but it was obviously ridiculously extreme.

"No Malfoy," Hermione said, exasperated too. "We want you to work with us. We want you to help us solve this case!"

He crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. "So that's what this is? Since you helped me and my mother now you're blackmailing me into doing what you want after I already declined?"

"You know we wouldn't do that." Harry was almost offended that Malfoy would still think so little of them.

"We're going to continue to vouch for you, and Narcissa, and even Lucius no matter what you decide, because they clearly need help." Hermione leaned forward again and Malfoy focused on her.

"But once they are transferred here and start receiving the treatment they need, you won't have to spend your days taking care of them. Look at everything you managed to find out about our case while also caring for your parents. You could really make a difference in this if you wanted to. And it looks like we're facing something… Bad. Quite bad. We could use your help."

Malfoy didn't say anything, but his featured seemed to soften up a little.

"But again, only if you want. Nothing is going to happen to you or your family if you say no."

Harry felt like he should say something to help Hermione win Malfoy over. He had already stayed quiet when they were all trying to convince him back at his office, but he again wasn't sure of what to add. "You seem to be good at this," he said awkwardly. Malfoy shifted his gaze to Harry. He looked tired and miserable, a stark contrast to this morning when he was practically glowing with joy at having discovered their secret. "And also… I think you enjoy it. I think you liked doing that investigation work and you might potentially like it even better once you have all the details and resources to do a proper job."

It sounded like complete bollocks coming out of Harry's mouth; something made up just to convince Malfoy, but it was actually the truth. Harry might not be close to Malfoy, but he had known him for a long time and he could tell when the git seemed happy or interested in something.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "What do you know about what I like or don't like, Potter?"

Harry could only shrug. There was no real malice in Malfoy's words any way, he seemed too tired for that.

Malfoy looked down and took a deep breath. "I will think about it." He looked up and noticed the way they perked up. "Don't get your hopes up. I don't even understand why you think this is a good idea. Between you two and your respective Weasley couple, someone's bound to want to hex me at the least, and I won't respond for the way I defend myself."

Harry snorted. "We're not couples." Out of all the things Malfoy said that's what struck Harry the most. "I mean, me and Ginny or Hermione and Ron. None of us are together."

Malfoy considered this for a moment and the nodded. "Makes sense, actually."

"Why?" Hermione wondered.

"I just got a vibe-" Malfoy cut himself off. "Forget it. But that's not the point, the point is that we're really going to get in each other's nerves and there's no guarantee that we won't end up wanting to kill one another. And I don't understand why you want that." His expression changed suddenly, as if he didn't want to be intimidating any more. "Is this case really something that concerning that you're willing to risk it?"

Harry and Hermione shared a brief but worrying look before turning back to Malfoy.

"We think it might be," Harry answered. He didn't have a good feeling about this at all.

Malfoy's body seemed to relax, but his face was as grave as ever. "I'll think about it."

Harry and Hermione got to their feet, not hiding their disappointment but also knowing they shouldn't push Malfoy any more.

"We'll talk to the Aurors and Healers then, " Hermione told him before leaving. "And don't worry, they've all promised to keep the press out of this."

"Thank you." Malfoy remained in his chair, unmoving. It was strange to think that this was like the third time Malfoy had thanked them in less than fifteen minutes but before then Harry couldn't recall ever hearing him say those words.

They walked down the hall in defeated silence until they were in the waiting room again and Harry pulled out his mobile phone. "I'll try again with Ron, you call Ginny and see how she's doing. If we're lucky we'll leave here in a couple of hours after giving statements to the Aurors and we can go help her."

This was the fourth time Harry had called Ron since he left and he still didn't pick up. He had spent all afternoon with Zabini and wasn't back yet, even though the inspection shouldn't be taking so long. For the first time Harry started to worry.

But he didn't want Hermione to notice.

"Hi Ginny," she said into the phone. "How is everything?" Harry could hear Ginny's muffled voice in the other end, but he didn't understand anything. "No, we still need to talk to a lot of people. Yes. Yes, Malfoy talked but we still couldn't convince him. Well, I guess we-"

"Granger! Potter!"

They both turned to see Malfoy rushing down the hall towards them. Harry thought this must be the first time he felt hope upon seeing Malfoy.

He stopped a few feet short of them with his cheeks slightly red but his eyes clear and focused. "I'll do it."

Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Ginny, I'll call you back."

.

.

Ron wasn't entirely sure of how far they had travelled, but he knew he had never been to this area before. It was humid but very green, and the only thing in sight for kilometers seemed to be Zabini's perfume factory, though, it looked more like a mansion than anything else.

"My grandmother gave me the place when she passed away. I was just five, but I always knew I wanted to turn it into a business of some kind."

Ron looked at Blaise. Without any buildings around, the late afternoon sunlight colored everything around them, including Blaise's face. He contemplated his fabric the way someone might look at their children. To be fair, it was one of the nicest pureblood Manors Ron had ever seen, as it wasn't exceedingly pretentious or lavish, and more like a big country house with vines decorating the walls, trees instead of gates, and different colored fumes coming out the three chimneys on the roof. "Why didn't you want to live here?" Ron asked.

"It's a little too far from everywhere else, plus, I knew my mother would also leave me the London Manor eventually. But it is beautiful, isn't it?"

Ron nodded. He couldn't see why someone would pass up a place like this for a spot in the city, he would live here in a heartbeat if he had the opportunity, but at least it wasn't abandoned.

Blaise turned to face him and pointed his wand straight at Ron's nose. Ron backed away and raised his own wand in alert. "What are you doing?"

Blaise laughed. "I shouldn't have done that to an Auror. Sorry, don't hex me." He lowered his wand. "I was going to do a simple sense numbing spell on your nose. My perfumes are great, but the scent inside the fabric is quite overwhelming." He turned the wand on himself and pressed the tip to his nose. The skin around it seemed to glisten more than usual for a second and then it went back to normal. "See?"

"Oh." Ron lowered his wand, feeling silly.

Blaise turned the wand back at Ron. "Do you trust me?"

Ron didn't look at the wand, he stared into Blaise's dark eyes, now shining particularly because of the sun. His first instinct was to say 'yes', but he was taught not to trust his first instinct right away. His Auror instincts were more important now, he reminded himself, but since all the evidence pointed towards Blaise's innocence Ron didn't feel bad about following his gut.

"Yes."

Blaise smiled and pressed his wand to Ron's nose. It was warm, but he didn't feel anything from the non-verbal spell. "Done." Blaise pocketed his wand and opened his arm out towards the fabric. "Shall we?"

Ron took the lead because after all this had to at least look like an investigation, even though both he and Blaise were aware it really wasn't.

"How many people work here?"

"Thirty. This is the original fabric where everything started but after expanding I bought a few more houses around the country and set up shop. I have two hundred employees total."

Rom was certain that after this 'search' they could drop all pretenses. If Blaise still invited him to his other properties, then it was because of something else.

The inside was even nicer than Ron had imagined. Every wall was lined with shelves and shelves of ingredients inside colorful bottles, plus plants on every corner and a subtle but still noticeable scent of flowers.

"When did you start your company?" Ron asked as they headed down a hall. "It was like right after Hogwarts, right?"

Blaise nodded. "I knew I wanted to do something as soon as school was over and my mother had experience with potions… Well, at least she used to be married to an experienced potion-maker."

The first room was a simple white room with two fireplaces facing each other, one with a couple of boxes inside and titled 'In'. The other was empty and read 'Out".

Blaise placed a hand on Ron's back, making his heart jump suddenly. "This is just a transit area for ingredients," he said as he led Ron into the room. The 'In' fireplace suddenly lit up in green flames and another box appeared on top of the others. "When my suppliers have the ingredients we request- always local and certified," Blaise clarified. "they send them here. Once a day they are picked up by a staff member.

"And the other one?" Ron pointed at the empty 'Out' fireplace, trying not to focus on Blaise's touch too much.

"If the ingredients don't meet our quality standards, we send them back," Blaise explained. Ron nodded. Blaise gave him a side questioning look. "Do you have any other questions?"

Ron couldn't think of anything. He knew he should be trying to steer the conversation towards Malfoy or Parkinson and see what Blaise knew, but it was hard to bring up in a place like this. "I don't think so, um…" Blaise was close, too close, and Ron's heart was in disarray without any good reason. He needed to keep his distance, otherwise things could get out of control really fast. "Let's see the next room."

He stepped away from Blaise and left. This would be harder than he had thought.

Ron was glad to see that the next room had some people, even if it was just two quality testers that were too focused to pay them any mind. Blaise walked him through the entire selection process, and then the infusion process in the next room, and then brewing, and filtering, and bottling, and all the while he tried to approach Ron and be in close proximity with him and Ron had to distance himself and pretend to be professional even though with every minute it became clear that Ginny had been right and Blaise did want something more than just prove his innocence. He was definitely pretending to flirt in order to get something out of Ron, just like he said he did with 'other clients'

Well, Ron could play that game too.

"So…" Ron tried to change his Auror voice that sometimes took over to sound more friendly. "Do you usually bring family or friends on these tours?"

"Not really. Not everyone thinks this is interesting. My mother has been here, of course, but my friends couldn't care less about perfume production."

Blaise opened the door to another corridor and let Ron go through first. Ron took advantage and brushed his shoulder against Blaise's as he passed. He ignored the goosebumps that surfaced on his skin.

"Of course, all of them still receive their monthly delivery of fragrances for free. Not that they thank me, the bastards." He laughed. "Except Theo when he gets drunk and then he thanks me a lot. But Draco still hasn't learned how to express his feelings, and Pansy is always running around back and forth." he waved his hand dismissively.

He had started talking about Pansy. Ron needed to get him to continue.

"This is one of the last rooms," Blaise explained as they arrived to yet another room.

After bottling, the perfumes were to be kept in a dark room for a few days before selling for the scents to settle perfectly. The room was also cold, and no one worked directly in there except to bring and take out batches.

"I hadn't come in here for a while," Blaise said, his voice sounding strange in the room filled with glass bottles.

Ron had been confident about his plan just a second ago, but now as he saw Blaise's silhouette against the wall he felt the nerves buzzing inside him and his knees weakened. He slowly made his way over without Blaise noticing, too busy staring at the labels of some of the perfumes.

He stood right behind Blaise and swallowed hard. "Did you use to come here a lot?" He whispered, hoping Blaise wouldn't be too startled.

He wasn't. "Yes. It's my favorite room." He reached and traced a finger down a large crystal bottle. "The perfumes are nearly ready, it's dark, it's cold, no one usually bothers you."

Ron hummed. It had been a long time since he had flirted with anyone. "Do you like the cold?"

Blaise turned around. Being face to face didn't feel as intimidating as Ron had imagined, and maybe it was just because he was taller than Blaise, but it felt like something else. It felt natural.

"Not really," Blaise whispered back, his breath over Ron's lips. "I think I prefer red heat."

Ron's words disappeared in his throat, whatever he was about to say back died and in its place he felt a pull drawing him in, making him lean down towards Blaise and hold his breath.

Ron caught himself before it was too late and stepped back as if propelled by magic. "No," he breathed out. "No."

Blaise frowned. "Are you okay?"

"I am… We can't just…" Ron had too much to say and yet none of it made sense. He couldn't tell Blaise about the case or say that he just wanted to get information from him… Mostly because after that almost kiss Ron wasn't so sure himself. "What is this? What are you doing?"

"What am I doing? I believe you almost kissed me," Blaise retorted, taking a step towards Ron.

"You've been… Flirting with me, and touching me, and inviting me over here." Ron ran a hand through his hair and inhaled more of the subtle aromas that were constantly in the air here. Just because he couldn't perceive how strong they were it didn't mean they couldn't make him dizzy, could it? This place or situation didn't even seem real. "I just don't understand what you could possibly gain from this."

Blaise cocked his head to the side. "Gain," he repeated in a monotone voice. "I think it's fairly obvious I've been trying to 'gain' time with you."

"Yeah?" Ron crossed his arms over his chest. "What for?"

Blaise's eyes narrowed and for a second he got a bad feeling in his gut. "Do you think I'm doing his because I'm up to something, Weasley?" Ron's mouth went dry at the use of his last name. "Is that the only thing a Slytherin like me could possibly have under his sleeve?" He advanced dangerously on Ron, looking like the person Ron remembered from school; another bully who thought he was better than everyone else.

Ron wasn't going to let him intimidate him, though. He squared his shoulders and stood tall in front of Blaise, or maybe he should say Zabini, since apparently they now resorted to last names. "You haven't been very transparent, have you?"

They were inches apart again, but this time in a different way, and strangely Ron was less nervous now. "Do you want me to prove you wrong?" Blaise asked, voice threatening. Ron merely shrugged one shoulder as if he didn't care. "Then come on a real date with me."

"What?" Ron gaped, completely taken aback.

Blaise smirked, knowing he had gained the upper hand. "I could see you were all business, Weasley. You wouldn't have said 'yes' if I had asked you out in a date, would you?"

Ron felt his heart pounding against his chest. "I-I don't… How would I…" Had he completely forgotten how to speak? "I don't have a lot of time for that."

Blaise hummed knowingly. "This investigation was the first time you seemed to be paying any attention to me since last year's Aurors Ball. So I thought I'd take advantage of that and maybe see you outside the ministry. But if you think that is too fucking sketchy," Ron's heart skipped a beat upon hearing the word 'fucking' out of Blaise's mouth. "then let me be more 'transparent'. I want to date you. I thought I was being polite and nice, but if what you want is for me to curse and use your last name, then fine." He took one final step, his mouth mere inches from Ron's. "Would you go on a fucking date with me, Weasley?"

Ron was aware that he had lost control of this situation a while ago, and yet all he wanted to do was grab Blaise by the collar of his shirt, throw him against the shelves and kiss him senseless.

After several seconds, Ron found his voice, or at least something resembling his voice. "I am so busy with this case. Even if I wanted to…" He did want to. He knew he did, and he was sure Blaise could see it in his face. "I don't have the time."

"Really, Weasley?" Blaise checked his watch. Muggle. Digital. "Because you've spent almost five hours here with me, and I haven't even seen you check your mobile phone once. Either this is the most important thing you need to do for your case- get to know the what's and how's of the perfume industry- or you have more time than you think."

It was very difficult to argue with that logic, and the truth was that Ron had been trying to avoid thinking too much about it because he felt too guilty about wanting to be here with Blaise.

"Or maybe you just don't want this," Blaise added and moved back just the tiniest bit.

With reflexes that even surprised himself, Ron caught Blaise's wrist before he went too far. "I do." The idea of Blaise taking back his offer to date him seemed unreasonably alarming all of the sudden.

Blaise smiled, his eyes flicking back and forth between Ron's stare and his lips. "It's a date, then. I will call you tomorrow?"

Ron nodded. "You don't have to call me by my last name, thought." He squeezed Blaise's wrist. "But you can keep the cursing."

.

Ginny hadn't been to a pub like this in years. Ever since she was appointed Team Captain, perhaps. Before then, she and the girls use to go out more after matches, win or lose, and they would get embarrassingly wasted.

And once or twice a someone would also end up in bed with her.

Ginny shook herself out of those thoughts. She was here for a mission, nothing else.

Though, it had been a long time since Ginny ended up in someone else's bed.

"Firewhiskey. Neat." She didn't much care about what Ron had said, if she was going to beat a pub, she would do it right.

She scanned the crowd as she sipped her drink and tried to see if there was anything suspicious going on. But aside from a few kids who were not old enough to be here and a bloke with a bag that was definitely not gillyweed, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She hadn't really expected it to, because Harry's tale had been sort of vague and strange and she couldn't imagine there was an open conspiracy group meeting at pubs to talk about horcruxes.

"Excuse me," a voice behind her said. Ginny turned around, her senses heightened in alert. A tipsy-looking girl was taken aback by Ginny's fast reaction and she stumbled back a step. Her friends were openly giggling in the background. "Are you Ginevra Weasley? Captain of the Harpies?"

Ginny let herself relax. "Yes, yes I am." She extended her hand out to her. "Nice to meet you."

The girl pulled Ginny into a hug. "Merlin! You are so incredible! I'm your biggest fan, I swear, ask my friends!"

Ginny looked at the girl's friends who nodded and kept giggling. She was clearly more drunk than she appeared as she had holding Ginny with a death grip. Ginny pat her back awkwardly. "It's really nice to meet you."

After gushing over her for about two full minutes, Ginny signed a napkin as an autograph for the girl, Allison, and took the opportunity to ask this group of girls about other popular pubs or clubs, because this place was looking rather empty for a Saturday night.

"Oh, you should try The Dragon's Lair," one of them said. "Or Green Goblin."

"Those are nice if you like dancing," her friend pointed out. "Also there's Snitch Sports Pub. Allison always makes us go there to watch your games."

Allison nodded enthusiastically. "I do!"

"They have artisanal beers at Witches' Brews. The acorn one is amazing."

"Ew, but that place is full of weirdos."

Ginny perked up. "Weirdos?"

The girl waved her hand. "It's a pub that hosts all kinds of events like trivia nights and club meetings and sometimes it's even closed for private parties."

"But the beer is excellent."

Ginny checked her watch. She could take a look at this place and still have time to go home and get some sleep before leaving. "Where is this Witches' Brews?"

.

The pub was on the side of Carkitt Market, on a street that used to be pretty abandoned but now was flourishing with new business. Ginny hadn't known there was a pub there until today, she thought the street was just full of new restaurants and boutiques, but the place was right there corner, small and unpretentious.

The Witches' Brews was exactly what you expected a pub run by young people to be. Loud, dirty, and exactly the place where no self-respecting adult would ever find themselves.

She didn't find anything particularly strange at first glance, but the crowd did seem different from the one in other place. For starters, no one here seemed as drunk, but that made sense since they only served beer and no hard liquors.

Tonight there was no special event like the girls had mentioned, so Ginny ordered herself an acorn brew and sat by a small table to observe for a while. The beer was indeed delicious, and there was certainly some weird vibe in this place, but Ginny couldn't really put her finger on it.

Everyone was talking to at least two other people, most in small groups, even though the music was blasting and she couldn't imagine it was very easy to hear each other. She couldn't see any shameless dancing or even flirting, and everything and everyone seemed legal as far as she could tell. It was as if the place presented itself a certain way but the reality of the scene inside was very different. These kids didn't seem to want to get wasted and end up vomiting in a pumpkin, they just were apparently very interested in whatever they were discussing. It was virtually impossible for Ginny to listen to any conversation, and not a single person seemed open to meeting new people. She was surrounded by at least fifty people, and yet it was as if she was completely alone.

She finished off her beer and got up to get to the loo. This was definitely a peculiar place, but she wasn't sure if it warranted feeling worried. Perhaps if Ron, Harry and Hermione came along they would notice something she was missing, but for now Ginny would just pee and go home.

Thankfully the bathrooms were very clean, probably because everyone was sober here. She got into one of the stalls and was about to unbutton her trousers when she stopped in her tracks. The entire inside of the stall was full of drawings and writings, and right there at eye-level in front if her was a large lightning bolt carved in the wood, and when she blinked it transformed into an equally large question mark. Ginny felt cold dread fill her chest as her eyes started to roam up and down the stall. Some things were typical bathroom writings, such as flirt messages and wand innuendos, but others made the hair on her arms stand on end.

"Unlock the truth," she read to herself quietly, her heart racing. "Question the status quo. Our leaders are liars. Do you really know who is You-Know-Who?"

Her knees suddenly weak, Ginny sat down on the toilet, not even thinking about getting her trousers dirty. Her mind reeled a hundred miles per second, the words she just read echoing inside as she tried not to let her eyes water. The lightning bolt kept turning into a question mark and back.

"If you seek answers, we will find you."