So, when you describe me to people, do you use amazing or fucking incredible? – Blaise Zabini
Zacharias Smith pinched the bridge of his nose and vowed not to shout. His ears still throbbed from the dramatic shrieks of Pansy Parkinson. He hoped Daphne Greengrass was a soft-spoken woman. He did not enjoy this portion of the job, but it came with the territory as far as being an Investigator was concerned.
"Ms Greengrass, please have a seat. I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."
Zacharias observed the chestnut brunette adjust her dark red robes and crinkle her nose at the metal chair. She primly sat on the edge and folded her hands on the metal table. Her light blue eyes never wavered and he had to respect her regal stature.
"I highly doubt we'd be meeting under any circumstances if I had a say in it. How may I be of aid?" Daphne's sooty lashes blinked with purpose and her red lips pursed slightly in displeasure.
"It has come to our attention via Ms Granger—"
"Hermione? How is she? What's happened?"
Zacharias wasn't expecting such a passionate response from the seemingly cool Pureblood witch. He wasn't quite sure how much he should divulge. He stalled by shuffling the small stack of parchment to his left until Daphne swept the pages to the floor with quite the flourish.
"I'm really not at liberty to say," said Zacharias.
The solid door behind him squeaked open and Zacharias wrenched his neck to see who had interrupted his interrogation. He relaxed upon seeing his fellow Investigator Theo Nott and returned his attention to Daphne. His teeth snapped together in irritation when he saw the light in her eyes.
"Theo, it's been ages," Daphne gushed. "How is Hermione? Smith here wouldn't utter a bloody word about her."
Theo groaned as he lowered his exhausted body into the chair beside Zacharias and scratched his head. His dark eyes were broody and his dark blond hair was mussed. He had ink stains on his fingers and even Zacharias flinched away from the sound of Theo's knuckles grazing the stubble on his chin.
"She's shaken, obviously. I really can't give you details, but she's with Malfoy. It was pointless to attempt to ask her anything else," Theo offered Daphne a small smile and glanced at Smith's notes.
"I've missed her," Daphne sighed.
"How's your sister these days?" Theo ignored her attempt to delve into Hermione further and deftly changed the subject.
"Dramatic as ever. She's convinced Draco is going to marry her, which is ridiculous. She's got Daddy wrapped firmly around her finger and Merlin knows Mother would never speak against him. Why am I here, Theo?" Daphne arched her eyebrows and pointedly ignored Zacharias.
"We were provided with a list of names. We have reason to believe the women listed have been assaulted at one time or another and we've opened an investigation."
Theo and Zacharias watched Daphne's face close. Her lips smoothed into a perfect line. Her eyes narrowed and her fingers threaded together. They knew she would not be forthcoming.
"Smith, retrieve Astoria," Theo ordered.
Daphne closed her blue eyes and her brow crinkled, which was the only sign of distress. Zacharias noted the burgundy undertones to Daphne's hair as he escorted Astoria into the room. They were as different as night and day. It would have been uncouth to comment on it, yet he was fairly certain it had been whispered about frequently in the Pureblood circles.
"Did you tell Draco that I'm here? I told you he'd want to see me immediately!" Astoria stamped her foot angrily and threw herself into the chair beside her sister.
"He's got more important things to worry about than you, Stori," Daphne hissed with venom.
"Daddy's fairly certain he can procure a higher bride price from the Malfoys considering my innocence. The same couldn't be said for you. No wonder they're considering the Flint application," Astoria sniffed with disdain and more than a little superiority.
"Listen you little half-blood," Daphne growled.
"Ladies!" Theo interrupted. "Alright, perhaps this wasn't the best idea I've ever had."
Zacharias returned to his seat and snickered lightly. He had always found the bickering of women entertaining. It wasn't particularly professional of him to laugh at them, but nothing about the situation made sense anyway. They were questioning women with memory loss as to an assault they didn't remember had happened; if it had happened. It was ridiculous in his opinion, but he was absolutely dutiful in his profession and did as he was bid.
"Half-blood?" Zacharias questioned with a sneer painted on his lips.
"Leave it be, Smith," Theo rubbed his forehead and groaned. "Alright look ladies, your names were given for a bloody reason. Astoria, you've really got to stop spinning that yarn about your innocence. Everyone knows better. Daphne, I've known you my entire life. I know when you know something and you fucking know something."
The Greengrass sisters quickly clasped hands. They were not close. They never had been. There had always been a rift between them. Their father had encouraged it, said it built character or some such nonsense. However, there were moments, rare moments when they were as close as two people could possibly be.
"A handful of us returned to Hogwarts to repeat our last year," Daphne began. "My parents were against it. My mother said I didn't require an education, only a wealthy husband. Sometimes I wonder if I should have listened to them. I have all these N.E.W.T.s. I earned them, but what did it get me?" Daphne averted her face and Astoria patted her sister's hand.
"It was my sixth year," Astoria continued. "I wasn't the same then as now. I was nice to everyone, really I was. It was a few days before the Christmas Holidays. There was a fantastic party and I danced most of the night away. Everything gets sort of fuzzy after that, but I know there was a wizard. H-He offered to walk me back to the Slytherin dormitories and of course, I let him. I hadn't been with anyone before, hadn't even had a kiss. I don't remember everything, but I remember that it hurt. I remember a harsh voice telling me what a disappointment I was and then there's nothing," Astoria allowed the tears to fall from her cheeks with her head held high.
"She was a mess when I found her," Daphne sniffed. "She was babbling incoherently, but one thing was certain. Someone had done something to her, but what could we do about it? We had no proof. Hell, we couldn't even remember his face. It happened to me. It happened to Pansy. The Brown girl as well and that Weasley girl were victims as well. I think the Weasley girl had it the worst. He kept coming for her. Last I heard of her she was up the duff, ended things with Potter and left the British Wizarding World," Daphne tucked her sister into her side and stroked the younger girl's hair.
"Stori, is that why—"
"Why I turned into a slag? That's what you're asking, isn't it?" Astoria snapped. "What did it matter after that, Nott? There was nothing left to save anyway."
Theo and Zacharias exchanged a glance and sighed. What could they honestly offer these girls? They weren't prepared for comfort, nor were they trained for such things. Their job was to collect solid information and they'd done that.
"Nott," a muffled voice called through the door.
"Thank fuck," Smith muttered and at least had the decency to blush when the Greengrass sisters snorted at his faux pas.
"Malfoy? Why is Granger still—"
"I can't get her the fuck off. I don't know what to do," Draco desperately burst into the interrogation room and promptly sat down. "I'm fairly certain she's sleeping, but the moment I try to pry her arms from around my neck, the sound she makes is downright ungodly. She's pushing my limits, Nott."
Theo wordlessly sent Zacharias from the room. He knew the Investigator was disappointed, but he didn't need to be involved in such a private matter. He knew Daphne and Hermione had forged some strange sort of friendship, but he'd never asked for the particulars He also knew getting Astoria to leave would be damned near impossible.
"You can't, Malfoy. If you break the skin—" Theo paused of his own volition and shook his head quickly.
"Fuck, I know I can't. It's quite the conundrum. I want to do it, but I don't want to do it. If I do it, it'll be an immense relief for half a minute before the compulsion has me shagging her into oblivion," Draco snarled and casually dropped his hands to the curve of Hermione's bum.
"Why is he touching her like that? Why is she wrapped around him? Why—"
"Astoria, shut the fuck up," Daphne spat. "Theo, if she opens her mouth again, Silence her. They took our wands on arrival otherwise I'd do it myself."
Theo opened the heavy door and peeked into the corridor. He nearly smiled when he spotted Smith and Weasley nearby. They would be perfect for keeping the prissy little Greengrass occupied. He whistled loudly and nearly preened in pride when they trotted to him.
"Oi, take Little Greengrass to the lunch room or fucking something. Get her out of here. Keep her occupied."
Ron's lips parted as he gaped, completely aghast. He'd only met the younger Greengrass witch once and it was more than enough. She was nice to look at and all, but then she opened her mouth and ruined everything.
"W-what do you want us to do with her?" Ron stammered nervously.
"I'd like to throw her in a room with Pansy and see who comes out standing," Zacharias guffawed.
"That's not the worst idea I've ever heard," Ron shrugged.
Theo thumped his forehead with the flat of his palm and nearly wrote his resignation. Instead, he dragged Astoria from her chair and pushed her toward the wizards standing in the corridor. He had half a mind to simply slam the door but decided that wasn't the best approach.
"I'd like to say I don't care what you do, but I'm fond of my job. Feed her. Give her tea. Listen to her talk about the latest fashion trends. I honestly don't care, but do not put her in the same room as Pansy," Theo snarled and slammed the door with a groan of discontent.
"They're going to do it anyway," Draco quipped.
"Yeah, I know."
Narcissa Malfoy hummed merrily while she strode down the cobblestone of Diagon Alley. It really was a beautiful day and the fact she had her husband on her arm only made it that much better. She knew Lucius detested shopping almost as much as he hated an empty glass, but his love for her always won out in the end.
"Look! Madam Malkin's has the latest robes. I think I'll just pop in for a moment," Narcissa pulled her husband toward the shop and he wished he were dead.
"Cissa, we've been at this for hours. Haven't you shopped enough for today? Perhaps you should take the young Greengrass—"
"Do not speak to me of her, Lucius. She's horrid. Did you read the latest owl from Johnathan Greengrass? He has the audacity to claim his daughter is innocent and as such the bride price should be significantly higher," Narcissa tittered only to conceal her derision.
"If that girl is innocent, I'm a house elf," Lucius mumbled. "She attempted to seduce me. I was drunk at the time—"
"No surprise there," Narcissa interceded.
"She shouted at me about my flaccid bits. Terribly inappropriate if you ask me."
Despite the glower on her husband's face, Narcissa broke into peals of laughter. A handful of matronly witches looked on disapprovingly, but she no longer cared as to their thoughts on her actions. She rested her head on her husband's shoulder and shook her head.
"I was there, Lucius. Rather, I walked in on the poor girl trying to bribe you to life. It's too late for her and she doesn't even realise it."
"I still refuse to believe he demonstrated for a Muggleborn. He barely tolerates the girl. We've had to listen to his laments for his entire life as far as she's concerned. Can you imagine a lifetime of such nonsense? I'll be forced to jinx myself deaf," Lucius groaned.
"Your son is nearly as delusional as you are. It's a delicate mark as of yet. He's quite convinced he still has a choice in the matter, but once he breaks her skin, it's all over. It would be best if you accept it sooner rather than later," Narcissa waved congenially to Madam Malkin and ignored the way her husband refused to take another step forward.
"Bushy-haired, half-blood, know-it-alls is not what our legacy should have been," Lucius yanked open the door for his wife and remained still. "I'm going to have a wander, enjoy yourself."
Lucius dutifully kissed his wife's cheek and spun on his heel before she could object. He hadn't a plan in mind other than spending copious amounts of time with his flask. It was imperative that he not be seen and therefore it was easy for him to meander toward Knockturn Alley.
It was different since the end of the War, but it still held a bit of darkness. He found it comforting in a strange way and sighed in relief with every step. He knew better than to purchase anything, but he did so love to browse.
"Lucius!"
He yanked his collar up and ducked into the nearest shop. He loved his wife, adored her even, but if he had to sit idly by while she tried on robes in every colour of the rainbow, someone would end up dead. He'd prefer if it wasn't him, but he wasn't fond of the idea of ending his wife either. It was best for both of them if he simply disappeared for a little while.
"Lucius Malfoy," a decrepit voice coughed. The owner of the voice was a wizened old man who quickly pushed his greasy greying hair from his face. "What are you doing here? Come to browse my wares?"
Lucius baulked and sniffed in disdain. He avoided touching anything in the shop and regretted passing through the door. He was a desperate man and as a desperate man, well, he took drastic measures.
"I'm avoiding my wife if you must know," Lucius snapped.
"Avoid her elsewhere, Malfoy," Borgin growled rudely.
"I see your sunny disposition hasn't changed much over the years, has it?" Lucius harrumphed as a pitch-black owl swooped near his head. He watched the beast drop a small parcel in Borgin's hands.
"You're not nearly as unpleasant as you used to be, pity really," Borgin scoffed and shoved the parcel into the pocket of his black apron.
"I've taken up drinking. It's a delightful pastime. After a while, you don't much care about your surroundings at all. You should give it a go."
Lucius took a healthy gulp from his engraved silver flask and raised it in silent salute. He nearly pressed his face to the glass but decided he didn't like the feel of dust against his face. He sighed happily to see his wife's platinum hair retreating and knew it would safe to venture out of the shop.
"Get out, Malfoy. I never could stomach you or that wretch of a son of yours. Heard it on good authority he's smitten with a Mudblood. Abraxas would have set that boy straight, but you never had your father's constitution," Borgin chortled happily until it segued into a hacking cough.
Lucius wrenched open the door and stepped into the street. He didn't bother to conceal his identity. He didn't plan on remaining in Knockturn Alley. He sneered at Borgin, yet he did not draw his wand.
"Are you sure you're feeling well, Borgin? You know a man of your age should be more careful where his health is concerned. It would be a shame if something were to befall you, don't you agree?"
Lucius smirked happily and took another nip from his flask. He hissed angrily at the wide-eyed stares and completely ignored the whispers as he marched down Knockturn Alley. He ascended the steps and was nearly encased in the warmth of Diagon Alley when an earsplitting scream sank him to his knees.
He covered his ears and twisted to stare over his shoulder in absolute horror. Borgin stumbled from his shop and half of his face was missing. He fell to his knees and a small box, barely significant, fell from his charred fingertips. The moment the box bounced along the pavement, it slammed shut and the infernal scream ended. As for Borgin, he pitched forward into a muddy puddle and looked as though he were dead.
"Lucius!" Narcissa Malfoy hurried along the cobblestone and fell to her knees at her husband's side.
His arm automatically encased her and patted her in as soothing a manner as he could manage. His head was still fuzzy, but from the looks of it, Borgin was dead. Lucius didn't wish to remain in Diagon Alley to suss out the truth, but he knew exactly what he needed to do.
"Cissa, we've got to go to the Ministry," he whispered in her hair and his tone brooked no disobedience.
Narcissa gazed at the small group of witches and wizards and nodded slowly. She knew what they were thinking. She knew her husband was suspect and it was unsurprising. Lucius deserved their calculated glares and undisguised whispers considering his involvement in the First and Second Wizarding War.
They didn't know him the way she knew him. They didn't know the many nights he had spent writhing and shouting in his sleep as the memories tortured him into wakefulness. She knew he had been a fool and Lucius accepted it with much less grace than she.
"Quickly," She whispered and helped him to his feet. "We'll Apparate to Whitehall and access the Ministry from there."
Lucius stumbled over his feet and kept his eyes downcast the moment they landed in Whitehall. He wondered how quickly the news had travelled, but it seemed no one paid them any mind. He grimaced at the state of the public toilets and vowed to Scourgify himself the moment he was able.
"I can't believe we're reduced to this," he muttered.
"Don't touch the tiles," Narcissa snapped and stepped into the ladies.
She patted her blonde hair and resisted the urge to shake out her boots. She knew it was unnecessary, but there was still something incredibly grimy about travelling by toilet. It was definitely not her preferred mode of travel.
"Level Two," Lucius instructed the moment he was able.
"The Aurors, Lucius? I don't believe we'll be well received there."
Narcissa marched toward the lifts despite her husband's garbled retort. She didn't pretend to understand the purpose of their visit. She would have simply sent an owl and asked the Minister for tea. Lucius was always a bit on the dramatic side and she imagined that was where her son had inherited his antics as well.
"Williams, I believe would be our best bet. Robards is insufferable. I'd rather speak with the Head of Magical Law Enforcement if that's an option," Lucius mumbled.
"Mr Potter and Mr Zabini are just there," Narcissa pointed and waved.
"Dammit, Cissa. You know the Potter boy drives me to drink!"
"Hmm yes, what doesn't these days?"
Narcissa left her husband to stand there with his lips gaped and approached Blaise Zabini. She hadn't heard of his appointment as an Auror and this displeased her greatly. She'd always been fond of the boy. It wasn't his fault his mother was a murderous cow.
"Blaise Zabini you did not tell me you were an Auror," Narcissa called down the corridor.
She was pleased to note he at least had the decency to look sufficiently abashed. It soothed her ruffled feathers so to speak. She embraced him and patted his cheek softly.
"Narcissa?" Blaise looked at Harry and gulped. "Yes, well it's fairly new. You see uhm, Longbottom, er Neville Longbottom left the post in order to teach at Hogwarts. Theodore Nott told me about the opening and I applied. I've been incredibly busy and—"
"No matter. Lucius and I are here on official business. Perhaps Mr Williams or even Mr Robards has the time to speak with Lucius?"
Harry didn't mind being silently rebuffed by the likes of the Malfoys. He'd have been pleased to never see them again, but alas, life didn't quite work that way. He watched Lucius nervously stand behind his wife and offer nothing, which was quite peculiar. It piqued his interest, therefore it was only natural for him to interject.
"Williams and Robards are in the courts today," Harry offered. "It seems you'll be stuck with us."
"Fantastic," Lucius sneered.
"Oh yes, sarcasm, that's totally conducive to the matter at hand, please continue," Harry quipped.
Blaise was suddenly overcome by a violent coughing fit and it was easy to ignore the grey eyes that narrowed dangerously. He gestured toward an empty office and the Malfoys swept passed him. Blaise didn't mind working with Harry Potter. It was Ron Weasley that drove him mad, but the bloke was assigned to Astoria for the day, which put an extra spring in his steps.
He entered the office and noted the armchairs were Transfigured into plush brocade. The Malfoys were not the sort to rest their weary bums on shabby plaid. He listened carefully while Lucius spun his tale and noted Potter's actual interest in the matter.
"Alright, so you're here to report a crime that you witnessed but had nothing to do with. You're also convinced that someone wished to make it look as though it was your fault. Answer me this, Lucius. Who hates you enough for all of that?" Harry Potter crossed his arms in his surly manner and dared Lucius Malfoy to belittle him.
"Everyone, obviously. Honestly, Potter, you'd think after all these years you'd have smartened up at least a bit. Your intelligence was obviously over exaggerated. Get me Granger, she might be Muggleborn, but she's a damn sight smarter than you," Lucius frowned unhappily upon the discovery his flask had been emptied and therefore he did what he did best. He pouted.
"Lucius, behave," Narcissa reprimanded her husband, but her smile caused her harshness to fall flat.
"I haven't the patience for this! Where's my son? Where's Nott? Where's the fucking Minister for that matter? Does anyone actually work around here? Ridiculous," Lucius leapt from his seat, pushed passed Harry Potter, and strode down the corridor with sure steps.
"Zabini, stay with Mrs Malfoy. See if she's got anything to add. Apparently, I've got to chase after fucking Lucius. This is ridiculous."
Harry chased after him, but Lucius had much longer legs. He was a man on a mission and he was not the sort of wizard to allow an annoyance such as Harry Potter to stop him. He rapped his knuckles against numerous doors, popped his head in, grumbled, and left.
"Finally! Theodore, wait, is that my son? Is he snogging—is that Hermione Granger? I haven't nearly enough libation to deal with this situation. I haven't any at all, Theodore, rectify the situation quickly!"
Daphne Greengrass crossed her legs and chuckled lightly. It was quite the spectacle to behold. While she hadn't ever believed Draco was right for her sister, the fact that he was oblivious to his surroundings while he snogged Hermione was laughable. They'd never got on and yet the chemistry between them was explosive.
"They've been at this for a bit," Daphne smiled demurely. "I wouldn't suggest touching her. Draco's eyes are quite black."
Draco was vaguely aware of the fact his father had burst into the interrogation room. He couldn't be bothered to offer a polite greeting. He was much too busy plundering Hermione's willing mouth. He wasn't certain how it happened.
Hermione had been mumbling against his throat, something about her breasts and all he could feel was the soft globes pressed into his chest. He hadn't wanted his cock to twitch in his trousers. He definitely hadn't wanted to stare into vulnerable red-rimmed eyes, but he had.
"That bloody mark will be the end of us," Lucius sneered. "One little mishap and he chose her."
Lucius had enough sense to avert his eyes from his son's roving hands. It was quite the spectacle. He was incredibly uncomfortable and it became worse as the metal table scraped across the checkered tile. He had a sneaking suspicion the Muggleborn witch's arse struck it with every unseemly arch of her back and he hoped they had enough decency not to shag in mixed company.
"My parents are not going to be pleased. I can't wait until they're informed. Can we tell them Draco and Hermione are in love? Please?" Daphne's blue eyes lit with mischievous excitement and even Lucius managed a small smile.
"Did you know Draco has attempted to thoroughly convince us he has not chosen Ms Granger? It's highly amusing to watch him bluster about, especially when he's angry. I suppose he believes his parents are nothing more than old fools," Lucius graciously accepted his refilled flask from the returned Theo with a sigh of thanks. "Please Silence them. I would do it, but I might accidentally hex off my son's prized appendage."
Theo refused to argue with the older wizard and did as he was bid. He'd met Harry in the corridor and promised to delve into the elder Malfoy's statement. Of course, he hadn't meant during Draco's intense snog session, but Lucius seemed content to drink and chat with Daphne rather than venture anywhere else.
"They cast a Charm around us, Granger," Draco murmured against Hermione's ear. "We should stop."
"No, not yet," Hermione whined. "I can feel him on me. He fills my nostrils and I can't get rid of him. I need this."
Hermione's hips continued in their tantalizingly slow circles that were slowly driving him mad. She had already freed his cock from the confines of his trousers and the only thing left between them was his underthings as hers were inexplicably missing. He refused to shag her, not like this. Hell, Draco wasn't even certain he liked her enough, but the draw was nearly more than he could bear.
"Why did you ask for me?" Draco inquired as he dragged his teeth over her enticing silvery mark. He vaguely wondered when it had darkened so significantly as he rather missed the blinding white against her skin.
"H-he asked me to show it to him!" Hermione exclaimed in his ear. "I can't believe I remembered that. I just, I don't understand it, but you make me feel safe. I need to feel safe and I know it's completely illogical, but I just feel—" She shook her head sadly. "It's stupid."
"If you don't stop rocking, I'm going to come in my shorts," Draco's strained voiced filled her ear, yet she didn't stop.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders and shifted into his erection. She could feel it against her thigh, but that's not where she wanted it. Her skin felt hot, as though she was chasing a high she could never reach. Every touch, every kiss soothed her rattled nerves and erased the remnants of filth she felt against her skin. Hermione couldn't put it into words. She didn't understand it and frankly, it was driving her a bit mad.
"If you draped your cloak around me, it would be a simple matter to—"
"Granger, I am not shagging you with my father staring at me. I don't care how much you beg. You've just been through something incredibly traumatic and while I'm definitely not against burying my cock in you, it won't be here," Draco valiantly tried to keep her hips still, but Hermione was quite a determined witch.
"When?" She crooned in his ear and sunk her teeth into the fleshy skin beneath his jaw.
Draco's head fell to her shoulder and he was simply incapable of avoiding the mark he'd left on her skin. Her body called to his in ways he'd never imagined and he was quite conflicted about it. He tried to hold her still, truly he did, but that determined witch was no match for him. Draco felt her tremble beneath him and the combination of her lips sucking his throat, the magic of the mark, and that gods be damned rocking, he spilt against her thigh.
"You cannot bury yourself in me," Draco finally croaked. He removed his wand from the back pocket of his trousers and removed the Charm that surrounded them.
"Smith suggested the girls remain together for a few days. It's a fine idea. Perhaps they'll recall their experiences if they're together. At the very least, it would provide some sort of support. Potter's offered up Grimmauld Place since Pansy refused anything less than the best accommodations, which is no surprise there," Theo spoke matter of factly and ignored the stench of sex in the air.
Draco nodded and set to task. He quietly Scourgified his lap and Transfigured his favourite handkerchief into a pair of knickers for Hermione. It was obvious she was embarrassed by her wanton display, but he hadn't the time to coddle her. She required more than he was currently capable and it was best if she leant on women in similar circumstances.
"Son," Lucius snickered, "your stamina leaves something to be desired."
"Father," Draco growled, "why are you here?"
"Oh, don't mind me. By all means, continue molesting your witch. There was only a mishap in Knockturn Alley. I'm fairly certain Borgin is dead and I'm to be implicated, but as long as you spill your seed on Ministry time, all is well in the world."