Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. All original characters, plot, canon material belongs to the author. I write for fun and to learn.
Chapter 11: Seventh Level
***
"Sorry, I'm late."
I had been making a last minute check of the room to make sure I'd gathered all the random things Harry and Ron had been bringing in for me over the last few days. I'd found several pairs of questionable under things that even I had been ashamed to wear — they had been gifts from wishful boyfriends and girlfriends with a sense of humor. I'd stuffed them into the far reaches of my bureau. I was curious to find out just who had dug deep enough into my things to collect them. I was betting my money on Ron.
With that on my mind, it took me a few seconds for my brain to translate the vision in the doorway. I hadn't really seen Draco in days and until that moment, I had no idea how starved I'd been for his presence. I watched dazedly as he made his way across the room. He was in his Ministry robes, indicating that he'd come straight from work, again.
"Draco," I said, a little breathy. "What are you doing here?"
He gave a small smile and pulled me into his arms and against his chest. "And they say you're the brightest witch of our age …." he said. He held me tight and slowly stroked my back. "Glad you're all right, though," he whispered. For a few moments, I could do nothing but rest in his arms. So much had happened in the past few days that being held felt immensely comforting.
"You didn't really think I'd let you check yourself out of the hospital after an ordeal like that, did you?" There was a pause. "Apparently you did."
It was unexpected of him to take leave from work because of me. I would never have asked it of him; nor Ron or Harry for that matter, especially with an open case. But it felt good—better than that, bloody fantastic to have someone think of me again. I squeezed him a little tighter, nuzzling myself into his chest. He smelled of mild cologne and lemon drops today. Finally, I had to pull myself free, and it was effort because I could easily have stood there all day.
He let his hands trail down my arms to grasp my hands, his thumbs touching and testing the texture of my skin.
The uncovering of my injuries had been anti-climatic to say the least. What with all the sedation and pain and bandages, I'd prepared to be horribly disfigured — a mere shadow of my former self. Or at least have some battle wounds like Alastor Moody had done. Those Healers should be given a medal, though, because not a scar was left. If I hadn't endured it first hand I might not have believed it had happened.
Draco lowered my hands but didn't let go. "Back to normal I see," he said.
"Yeah, just regular old Hermione … just a touch paler."
"I happen to like regular old Hermione. A bit cheeky, but there's something to be said for a bit of cheek." He waggled his brows. "And what's this about being pale? Nothing wrong with that."
"Of course you would think so, you've been pale all your life."
He scowled and I laughed at him. I leaned in to give him a consoling peck on the lips. The moment our lips touched, it was as though our bodies had been waiting for it and I felt it all the way down to my toes. I would never tire of kissing him. I loved everything about it, the feel, the taste — especially the taste. There was always a trace of sweetness, as though he'd just been rolling Bertie Botts' Every-Flavour Beans on his tongue for hours.
We didn't stop until Draco released me with a moan. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, slightly embarrassed at having nearly been carried away … in a hospital room! He cleared his throat and turned to the bed, zipping the duffel as he spoke.
"Would have been here sooner, but it's chaos down at the Ministry. You know, about the arrest — and then I got called in for questioning." His face turned bitter as he said the last part.
"What?" I asked, confused.
He repeated himself and added, "I know Potter is your best mate and all, but he's a right bastard, did you know that?"
"Hang on, an arrest?" This was news to me. "Who? Why didn't anyone think to mention this to me? And why were you held for questioning?" If the Aurors had made an arrest I needed to know first hand. I had every right to be a part of this. The Minister himself thought as much. I was also a little put out that neither Harry nor Ron had mentioned a lead — and Ron had been here just last night! I could worry about that later.
As if he'd read my very thoughts, Draco cast me a slanted look. "Wasn't Weasley on watch last night? You mean to say he didn't mention anything about it then?"
"No, Ron didn't tell me anything. Draco, what's going on?"
Draco sat down on the edge of the bed. The hard mattress barely dented under his weight. Now that the initial surprise of his presence had worn away, I could see that beneath his impeccably groomed exterior, he looked totally exhausted, even worse than last time. His stunning gray irises were surrounded by bloodshot white.
"They've brought in Lavender Brown and Pansy Parkinson," he began. "Turns out, the flowers that Brown sent you were completely normal, but they were sent from this place out in Frog Pond Village. It's the only place around here licensed for possession of a Firestar."
"So was it Lavender that sent me the Firestar or Pansy or …?"
"Well, we haven't exactly been able to prove it that it really came from that place. The Minister sent a team of Aurors and Dark Artifacts Investigators to go out there, and we were going to question the owner but he disappeared before we could get a hold of him. Checked the books for recent orders though, nothing matches up. It does turn out that the owner is a business partner of Peter Parkinson's, though. Even I didn't know that. Pete is small realtor from old money, what's he want with a florist?"
"I don't know. Maybe, the florist is a partner in the realty company?"
Draco snorted. "Not likely. Pete is a greedy man … Pansy told me once that his cousin fell on hard times — lost everything in a marriage that ended badly. He wouldn't even give the guy a hundred galleons to save his home."
"Sounds like a terrible man," I said.
Draco shrugged. "Anyway, from what I've been able to gather, Pete's on holiday and the Aurors found out Pansy's been recruited by Rightblood and … well now they've brought her in for questioning. Not technically an arrest, but just about."
He took a breath and looked at me.
I joined Draco on the edge of the bed, my knees unable to hold me any longer. Frog Pond Village I'd heard of before. It was a little town even further out than Hogsmeade. Why had Lavender gone there for flowers? It had to be a coincidence because it didn't make sense any other way.
And Pansy Parkinson? I didn't know much about her but, I would have never guessed she had enough wits to master a crime this huge … this heinous. She barely had the motive …. And what about Draco? "What has any of this got to do with you?"
He gave me a look that I didn't quite understand.
"Obvious, isn't it? As one of Pansy's mates … it's only logical."
"Oh, well then they must have questioned Zabini, Goyle and Greengrass right? They're all friends too."
He fumbled with the duffel, hesitating before he spoke again. "I've also been contacted by Rightblood and I reckon the Aurors have caught wind of it."
I whipped my head too fast and caught a crick in my neck. "Rightblood has been trying to recruit you too?" I asked, outraged. "And just when were you going to tell me that?"
Pieces of classic Draco suddenly returned. He drew himself up, lifted one brow and spoke. "Never, because it's totally irrelevant. Telling you something like that would only have upset you unnecessarily. I don't plan on trying out for anymore ridiculous blood supremacy gangs. I've had my share of them for one lifetime, thanks."
"The Aurors sure think it's relevant," I said. I tried to calm down. Getting angry would only help to prove his point. Tentatively, I touched his thigh. "Draco, I'm not saying you have to tell me every single detail about your life, but when something like that happens … tell me anyway. Let us decide together if it's important or not because it affects both of us."
Draco had grown up an only-child, like me. We'd had our whole lives to grow accustomed to answering to no one. Of course we'd been in relationships before, but I'd never dated another only child. I was betting he hadn't either. There is something about people with siblings that makes them more flexible, more willing to bend to the needs of others. That's not always true for only-children. I wasn't asking a small thing — sensible, but not small. If he wouldn't agree to it, then what would I do? Would we break up? If not this, then what would be the deal-breaker between us … the thing that would drive us apart?
I swayed a bit, suddenly nauseous. I didn't want to lose him but I would not compromise my values either.
Slowly, he nodded and reached for my hand. I felt the gentle pressure of his lips to the back of it. "You know Hermione, you shouldn't worry so much. I would do many things for you if it made you happy, but nothing to deliberately hurt you. I told you that the night we went to the theatre, remember? Can you please trust me with that?"
"Do you trust me?" I asked.
His eyes went wide for a moment. His lips thinned into a straight line and that queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach returned. "Let's make a pact," he said.
I quirked an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"I suppose I should not ask you to do something that I'd be unwilling to do myself. So, we will trust each other absolutely."
I gave him a slanted look. "You mean that?"
He sighed. "I know that it's us and it seems terribly unlikely that this will work. But I don't give a damn. It's what I want, what feels right. I mean that."
I looked up into his striking, unearthly gray eyes and let wonderment fill my own. He always said the right thing. I kept waiting for something to happen, for something to go wrong and I could say, 'I knew it!' Nothing ever did. In that moment, I realized something that had been niggling at me for weeks now. Something I had probably always known was coming at one time or another.
I was falling in love with Draco Malfoy. Dear Godric, when had that happened?
It was much too soon for such strong feelings. We'd only just gone out on a proper date! But the past few weeks with him had been exciting, tentative, and perfect. I'd learned things about him that I'd never have dreamed. Draco was of course arrogant and spoiled, I'd known that going in. But there were things I hadn't known that I found incredibly endearing, like his charities and cooking. He was also very intellectual, protective, and passionate and that was just the beginning.
Admitting that I loved Draco made me a little giddy and scared, like escaping from Gringott's riding the back of a blind dragon kind of feeling. Oh dear. This was much too soon. Funny how none of that seemed to matter to my furiously beating heart ….
I pulled my hand out of his grasp, hoping Draco was oblivious to my silent revelation. I tried to keep a straight face.
"So, what about your job?" I asked.
He blinked at the sudden changed of topic. "What of it?"
"Well, you've been questioned by the Aurors in relation to a murder case, how are your superiors taking it?"
"Oh," he said, "Well I'm not being sacked if that's what you're getting at."
"Good."
"It is." I couldn't look at him. I knew he was watching me with that intense scrutiny that made me feel completely naked in ways that had nothing to do with my clothes.
Finally, I stood up, making to grab my duffel. "I need to drop by the Ministry to talk to Harry."
When Draco didn't say anything, I glanced in his direction to make sure he was still there. He looked at me as though I'd grown two other heads. He pursed his lips looking very much like a cross father. "Maybe you shouldn't go into work when you've only just been released from the hospital."
"Don't be ridiculous, I'm perfectly fine. I haven't a scratch on me. Besides, I can't very well allow you to skive off work on account of me."
He looked indignant. "I'm not skiving off work. It's legitimate time off. I just thought it might be nice to spend some time together, but if you're not up for it…."
He was pouting again. Thinking quickly I said, "How about this … I pop down to the Ministry now, for just a quick chat with Harry. Then you and I can have the rest of the day … and night together?"
He just looked at me.
"And I won't do any work, I promise."
It took several kisses and other womanly wiles, but he eventually agreed. I sent him home to rest because he needed it. Besides, it wasn't necessary to have him with me at the Ministry. Harry or Ron might not tell me the important details, if I had Draco in tow. Unfortunate, but true.
***
It felt as though I'd been away from the Ministry for months, rather than days. I went straight to my office to grab my access badge and some Ministry robes then dashed to the lifts.
As I approached, I recognized a familiar head of ginger hair.
"Percy — am I glad to see you, I can finally get some answers. What's going on here, why didn't anyone tell me?
Upon hearing my voice, he jumped as though not expecting to be found waiting outside of a perfectly visible lift. He looked just as haggled as Draco.
"Hermione? You're back?"
"Only just now."
He composed himself. "You look very well."
"I don't mean to be rude Percy, but you're dodging the question."
He looked around, and though no one was within earshot, he lowered his voice.
"Not here, Dad's been trying to corner me all day, dying to know what's going on, but it's top secret. Come with me. I'm headed down to the Questioning Chambers and Harry should be down there. I'll do my best to explain what I can along the way."
I nodded and the pair of us ducked inside the lift when it arrived. I started as soon as the large metal doors clanged shut.
"Percy … I heard about Lavender Brown and Pansy Parkinson. Have they confessed anything? Is it them?" Saying it out loud didn't make it any more believable.
"Of course not," Percy said. "They haven't confessed a thing. And technically, they haven't been arrested for anything so we can't use Legilimency or Veritaserum on them." He wrung his hands.
"Even worse," Percy continued, "once Peter Parkinson gets wind of this he's going to have a fit that we've detained his daughter. Only reason he hasn't done already is because he's on holiday."
"But Pansy's of age —"
"That isn't going to stop the Parkinson's. They'll go straight to the papers."
Since the Ministry was under a new administration, the Daily Prophet and other smaller papers weren't in the Ministry's pocket any longer.
I nodded. "This could be bad for the Ministry."
"We don't have enough proof to detain them for long, but we aren't exactly letting them go in a hurry either — "
With great screeching, and grinding of metal, the lift skidded to a halt. The sudden lurching had tossed us both to the ground. I got up first and Percy followed, staggering to his feet and holding the side of his head. The stack of parchment he'd been carrying was scattered on the floor.
"What the bloody hell was that?" he cried. A thin trickle of blood ran from his hairline down the side of his face. He ran to the doors, trying to wedge his fingers inside and push them apart. But there was no use.
"I don't know." I pushed the seventh level button once, twice, and again, as though on the third or fourth try, it might work.
"Stand back," he ordered. I did.
"Bombarda!" The heavy doors opened like a book.
With the doors blasted apart, I could see that we were stuck between levels. At the bottom, there was just enough space for a very small person to fit through.
"No," he said, probably thinking what I was thinking. "You stay in here and let me go. We don't know what's happened out there."
I wanted to argue that I was probably the better choice between the two of us to send out there. Percy was a great wizard, but not a fighter. I let it go; now was not the time to bruise his ego.
He dropped down, looking extremely awkward. In all the years I'd know him, I don't think I'd ever seen him on the floor for any reason. He tried first sticking his long legs through, then turned around and went shoulders first.
"Let me try," I said. He ignored me and tried his feet again. Finally he got up, adjusting his now dusty robes.
"Fine, but pull your wand …"
"I didn't just become a witch, Percy."
"Just be careful," he snapped.
I looked through the hole; we were several feet above the next level. Going out head first was out of the question. I lay on my stomach and backed out, feet first.
It was a disconcerting feeling. I was halfway out and my feet were still treading air. Percy held my arms to keep me from slipping.
"I'm going to have to jump," I said to him.
He shook his head. "Well then you just come back inside and we'll both wait for help."
"No, I think I can do it … it's not that far." I wiggled out just a little further and let go of Percy's hands.
"Hermione, no!" he cried. But I had already slipped out between the broken doors. The impact reverberated from my ankles all the way up my legs. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled my mouth, followed by a stinging sensation on the tip of my tongue.
"Hermione!" I heard Percy call from the lifts. "Hermione are you all right?"
I moved both ankles, the left one was numb which probably meant I'd sprained it, but at least it wasn't broken.
"Relax," I said with a slight lisp. "I'm fine, nothing's broken, see?" Slowly, I staggered to my feet and hissed when I put pressure on the left ankle.
"What's going on down there?" he asked.
I looked around, expecting to see officials scurrying about, but the corridor was empty. The wood flooring and inconspicuous wooden doors let me know we'd nearly made it to the Auror's floor.
"Nothing," I answered. "There's no one around. I'm going to see if I can find Ron or Harry…"
"Check the Questioning Chambers," Percy said.
The Questioning Chambers were restricted to authorized persons only. The story was that, before Fudge had restricted access to the area, someone had forgotten to reset the wards and a suspect had escaped. He didn't get very far, but there had been a lot of blaming and finger pointing. I, of course, had access.
I waved my wand over the door and it popped open with a small click. The main Chamber room was set up like the Department of Mysteries: A large circular room with nine numbered doors that opened up into smaller rooms. The rooms were divided into two sections. One side had a table and two chairs inside four additional walls. The walls had no doors or windows and it had anti-Apparition charms … Harry and Ron had refused to tell me how anyone got in or out. The other side was an open space with a thick column that rose about chest high to me. On top of the column was a huge crystal ball, only it wasn't exactly a crystal ball — more like a sphere shaped thing that was made of crystal. It was how the Aurors and Law Enforcement officers watched and recorded the interrogations.
I didn't know which one they'd be in, so I started with number one and worked my way around.
I was checking the third door when I heard it.
It had come from behind door number nine, a cacophony of shattering glass. I immediately drew my wand and crept toward the door. I had to go in, incase someone had been hurt. I also needed to be ready, incase something nefarious was on the other side of that door.
I realized the other rooms must be empty, because no one came running out to see what had happened. Unless the rooms were soundproof, which they probably were.
With my hand on the door knob and my ear pressed right up against the cool wood, I listened for any sound of movement; groaning, shuffling, voices — but it was dead silent. I could almost hear my heart hammering in my chest.
My wand was ready as I opened the door and it swung wide, offering an open view of the dark room.
No one attacked me.
I noticed the breaking glass I heard had been the sphere falling off the column. The floor glittered with the shattered pieces of the thick, heavy crystal. And it was covered with inky stuff with an almost metallic shimmer.
"Hello?" My voice came out muted, as if the walls absorbed my words. I pointed my wand at the mess.
"Reparo." Nothing happened. The broken pieces quivered, but remained broken. It apparently had the same enchantment Prophecies and Time-Turners had on them which prevented them from being repaired. I suddenly heard a noise behind me. I turned just in time to see the heavy door swing shut.
"No!" I cried. I grabbed for the handle but, these doors had no inner handle. I screamed and banged and screamed some more. I was stuck.
The only light in the room now came from the eerie phosphorus light of the stuff on the floor. I crouched low, searching for the wand I had dropped.
I felt around, carefully avoiding the sharp crystal, until my hand wrapped around the heel of my wand. I lit it and held it up to the smooth wooden door. What kind of place had doors with no handles anyway? I tried a series of taps, but if I didn't know the proper order, I'd be stuck here tapping forever.
Spells didn't work either.
I wasn't going anywhere because whoever spelled the door shut had made sure I couldn't get out the same way. I cursed the door. I had a whole volume of books on the subject of cracking codes and breaking locking charms that I hadn't even read yet. Fat load of good it was doing me now.
I went to the opposite wall, away from the broken crystal. Sighing, I slid down the wall until my bum touched the floor and I sat with my knees drawn up. If I waited patiently enough, someone would come. Percy knew that I'd come here. They would find him, and he would send them to me. I calmed down and waited.
And waited.
Now that the effect of adrenaline had drained away, I was suddenly tired. I could feel the tightness of my arms and hands. I needed to apply the salve that my Healer had given me. I didn't even want to think about how right Draco had been. I stretched my legs out and leaned my head against the wall.
I felt something give and the wall shifted. I fell backwards, hitting my head on the wooden floor.
Quickly, I scrambled to my feet. The wall flipped completely, shutting me out of the room. I touched the wall where I had fallen through, and it was smooth. I looked around; the walls were lined with sporadically lit sconces. I realized that I must have been in some sort of corridor that ran around the perimeter of the Chambers. Maybe it connected all of the rooms. My heart leapt. If I could find one of the first three rooms I checked, I could escape … I'd left the doors opened as I checked them.
I held my lit wand high so that I could see more space. The corridor curved in a rounded shape just like the main Chamber Room. I had just come from room nine, so the rooms I needed were all the way around the opposite end.
As I walked I noticed the walls were smooth, nothing to indicate that there were doors there. I walked quickly, the only thing keeping me from breaking out at a dead run was the throbbing in my left ankle. It was definitely sprained.
I was almost there, hobbling; I could see where the rounded corridor ended, when suddenly I tripped over a massive thing. I fell hard, scraping my hands and my wand clattered several feet away. I'd twisted my already injured ankle and there was a stinging in the tender skin of my hands.
I gingerly crawled over to my wand and turned see what I had tripped over. I held the wand light out in front of me. The blood felt like ice in my veins when I realized who it was.
It was Lavender Brown.
Her neck was bent so that her honey-colored eyes were glassy and lifeless in the light. Her golden hair was splayed around her as though she'd been staged. I only knew that she hadn't been because of the way her leg bent beneath her at an odd angle.
I held my wand close, her lips were blue and I could see thin cuts and red welts that crisscrossed around her neck, which would have eventually turned into thick angry bruises. If she weren't dead.
I scrambled back several feet, trying to put as much distance between me and the corpse – because that's what she was now – as possible.
Lavender Brown is dead. Lavender is dead. Those three words kept playing in my mind like a broken, morbid record.
A small sob escaped me. Someone had been in here and killed her. Strangled her — right in the Ministry of Magic. I couldn't think straight for all the questions firing off in my mind. How had they gotten in without being seen? Where the hell were all the Aurors? Where was everybody who worked on this level? Why? Was the killer still here, waiting for me on the other side of one of these doors?
I crouched in the dark corridor for I don't know how long. I couldn't decide if I should stay put or try to find a way out. Finally, I decided I couldn't wait for the killer to find me. I dragged myself to my feet, ignoring the pain in my ankle as I threw myself at the wall, searching for one of the hidden doors.
Suddenly the wall shifted again, and I fell through, landing on all fours. I scrambled to my feet and bolted out of the door and out of the Chambers.
***
I was running, as fast as my legs could take me. I ignored the jolts of pain each time my feet pounded the floor. I reached the lifts, gulping a lungful of air.
"Percy—"
"Hermione? Hermione what's happened?" I could see his stricken face peeking out from the small opening.
"Did … you see … any one come past here … a moment ago?" I wheezed.
"What? No, what's—"
But I was already running, full speed in the direction of the stairs. I had to find Harry or Ron, or anyone in this damned place.
The main level of the Ministry not only held the Minister's office, my department, and International Magical Cooperation, but the Atrium as well. The main level was also the first level.
The last time I climbed that many stairs had probably been at Hogwarts, and not all at once. I reached the landing and braced my hands on my knees to catch my breath. Finally I sucked in a huge breath and exited the stairwell.
Scarlet robes, navy robes, and every color in between dashed about the Atrium. This was where everyone had been. I noticed right away that it had been shut down. The Floo grates were dark and the Fountain of Magical Brethren was still.
Without the whoosh of green flames and the sound of running water the Ministry Atrium seemed like the big Muggle warehouse that it was.
Most of the robes milled around something at the base of the fountain's statues. I spotted the tall fiery head of Ron among them. As I moved closer I squinted my eyes, trying to see through the cracks
"Excuse me," I said, shouldering my way through.
"Hey, get her out of here," said a deep voice I didn't recognize.
"Excuse me, move," I said again. I'd finally made my way to the front and the sharp metallic smell of blood hit my nostrils.
"Hermione, get out of here," I heard Ron say. But I couldn't move because my feet were rooted to the spot. My hand flew to cover my mouth. I would not scream. Don't scream.
I had never seen anything like it. Worse than Adrienne Wright's body because it was fresh. This person was nothing more than a bloody mass of meat, bone, and muscle. She, I knew it was a she, hung from the edge the fountain.
And there was so much blood, the pool at the base of the fountain looked like a bloody pond. God, how long had she burned?
"Get Jordan down here, tell him to secure the area," I heard Ron shout. Suddenly his big strong hands seized me by the shoulder. It was as if his touch released me, freed me from the gruesome sight. I felt nauseous and I turned, and dropped to my knees. I heaved and retched all over the shiny Atrium floor.
"Make sure no one else comes through! Hermione? Hermione, can you hear me?"
I swayed. The last thing I heard before darkness overcame me was the faint, sound of Ron's voice.
AN: UnseenLibrarian, DaOnLeeSam, MistressBlackSnape, Dramione-Fan17, tsukinotora...thank you all for your reviews for chapter 10!! kamikaze-tryst thank you for your review AND your awesome beta skills.