Sunday had been quiet. Neither Hermione nor Draco left their hotel, preferring to be in each other's company versus facing the riffraff of reporters who were most definitely waiting to speak to them.

Monday, however, was different. Hermione awoke to an owl pecking on the window, and after letting it in, it dropped a letter at her feet. There was no Ministry seal, but she knew it to be from Kingsley. It was a request to see her that morning before employees started trickling in. She already knew that she didn't want to do this, but she couldn't exactly avoid it.

Hermione left without waking Draco and placed a note explaining where she'd gone on the night table next to him. She had stalled at the door, wondering what sort of reaction she would get from passersby once she had left.

Nothing, as it turned out, because the hall was empty. The lobby of the hotel wasn't as sparse, however. There were people checking in, some checking out, others heading to the buffet, and they all paused in what they were doing to look at her. There were loud whispers and some pointed. Hermione got out of there as quickly as humanly possible.

Hermione made it to the Ministry to an empty atrium. She breathed a sigh of relief at that and headed straight for Kingsley's office. She went in without knocking and he raised his head from his desk.

"You got here quickly."

"You would only write so early if it was important."

Kingsley nodded. "That's true. Sit, please?"

Kingsley gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk and Hermione sat just as he asked. It was at this moment that she was glad he had an enormous working desk. It obscured her shaking leg.

"Do you know what I've been doing over the weekend, Hermione?" Kingsley asked tiredly. "Speaking with Mr. Yama and his associates, trying to untaint their impression of you."

Hermione sighed and dug her thumbs into her temples as she replied, "I suppose it didn't go well."

"That's an understatement. Needless to say, they no longer wish to work with you or Mr. Malfoy. And considering that you both were the only ones they had been interested in working with in the first place, they have severed their ties with us."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "But… But they can't! That project-"

"-will be taken up by the French Ministry in our stead," Kingsley finished bitterly. Hermione fell back into her seat and let her head roll back. She stared at the ceiling, wondering if that, too, would collapse just as everything else around her.

"And," he continued, "because of the investigation regarding Mr. Malfoy's wife, I'll have to suspend you until it's over. The both of you."

There went the ceiling.

Hermione sat up. "Are you planning on telling Draco that yourself or are you letting me do that?"

"I have a meeting with him after you. I sent the owl not more than a few minutes ago."

"Of course."

Silence swept the room. It was choking, really. Especially since every tick of the clock and every squeak of Kingsley's chair as he anxiously rocked it was magnified times ten.

"Hermione," Kingsley frowned. "As your Minister and boss this is something that I have to do, but please know that as your friend this hurts me more than you could possibly understand."

Hermione swallowed and shallowly nodded. "I know, and I don't hold any of this against you. I should have expected this."

"Nothing that has happened in the past few days was expected."

That was Hermione's cue to fidget in her seat. Everyone around her had something to say about the news that had shaken the world, and it wasn't about Astoria's death.

"I hope Mr. Malfoy understands just how much you've given up to have him in your life."

"That's always the first thought, isn't it?" Hermione rhetorically asked. "About what I'm losing. If I've made the right decision. If it's worth it. But no one wants to know or seems to care about why I made the decision in the first place. Why we did. Be honest with me, Kingsley. You'd do everything you could to stop your heart from breaking, wouldn't you?"

"...Not if it hurt other people, no."

"You haven't loved nearly as hard as I have then."

Kingsley didn't understand. Auror Gillings hadn't understood either when she had asked roughly the same question. No one would, and Hermione was tired of explaining. Nothing she said would justify the situation because every ripple that it caused was one devastation after another. What was going to happen next?

"Mrs. Weasley, good morning!"

A cheerful attitude, yes, but Auror Gillings was the last person that Hermione wanted to see today, if at all. Regardless, while the lift went down, forward, and backwards towards the atrium it made a momentary stop. That stop, to Hermione's dismay, although not surprise, was the Department of Marriages and Divorces.

Hermione greeted him with a slight nod. "Good morning."

He smiled at her and didn't press anything. He was heading to the atrium as well. Fantastic.

"You're off to an early start," Auror Gillings commented. "Busy day?"

"Not really, no," Hermione replied. "Yours must be, I take it? You came from the Department of Marriages and Divorces. Find anything of interest?" She added in a sneer. Auror Gillings glanced at her from his periphery before fully turning to face her.

"Should I have?"

"I should say not. But with all due respect to my friends who are Aurors, you people certainly like to reach for the stars when you do an investigation."

Auror Gillings chuckled. "My, you sound like Harry. He told me I was 'reaching' over the weekend."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You spoke to Harry?"

"In passing," he replied. He was facing the front of the lift now, a smug smile on his face. "I spoke to your husband."

"What?" Hermione choked. "Why? He has nothing to do with this."

"No, but he knows you," Auror Gillings said. "And that's a lovely start to my investigation."

A lovely start? For him, yes, it would be, and she and Draco had misjudged his methods. Auror Gillings aimed to go for the weak, and Ron was indeed weak. He was emotionally unstable right now which meant that he could say anything. That, Hermione knew, was a problem.

The lift doors opened and Hermione made sure she was the first one out of there. Unfortunately, she didn't make it far.

"You didn't tell me that you and Mr. Malfoy are getting married," Auror Gillings called at her back.

Hermione turned around abruptly and crossed her arms over her chest. "Is that what you find out from your little chat with Ron?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. So, why didn't you tell me? Ashamed, perhaps? Your actions are a bit wild, don't you think?"

"I'm ashamed of nothing," Hermione said fiercely. "Wild, yes, but done for a cause. Also, you didn't ask, so I didn't tell. Why does it even matter?"

"When a woman is murdered by the very people who are now engaged, it matters a great deal." Auror Gillings took a moment to glance at her hand and then chuckled. "Nice ring. Mr. Malfoy's got taste."

Auror Gillings walked off and Hermione stood there fuming. She was so unsettled that she almost didn't hear the delicate, yet bright voice that had addressed her.

"You're engaged, Hermione?"

Hermione blinked and finally noticed Luna standing in front of her.

"Oh, hi, Luna. Yes. It's...a long story."

"I love long stories. They're the best companion over tea, you know."

Hermione softly smiled. "That's your way of asking me to tea, isn't it?"

"If you're not busy," Luna beamed brightly. "I haven't had breakfast yet and was going to head to the dining hall. But since you're going to join me, perhaps we can go to a little muggle tea place I know. I doubt that you want anyone staring at you."

"Oh," Hermione frowned. She awkwardly rubbed her arm and swallowed. "You've heard then."

"The news is everywhere, I'm afraid. Shall we go for tea now?"

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. Luna hooked her arm with hers and lead the way to one of the many fireplaces so that they could leave together. Luna wasn't wrong. More Ministry workers were coming now and each one's stare, glare, and shake of the head was one more layer of burden. She couldn't have been happier to be outside. Luna told her to hold on tight, and so she did as told and felt the familiar pull of apparation. They didn't go far, but Hermione imagined that they had apparated for the very reason they didn't eat breakfast in the dining hall.

They were seated quickly at a small delicatessen in a booth near the back. Luna must have come there frequently for she was known by name and brought to her "favorite table." Low light, despite time of day. Wood tables with old-fashioned menus and there were some people choosing to eat their meals at the counter off to the left of them. Beyond that and blocked by cabinets the kitchen was there and the chefs could barely be made out as they flipped and fried things.

"So, when's the wedding?"

Hermione tilted her head. "What?"

"The wedding," Luna repeated. "You and Draco are getting married. When are you going to do it?"

"I...we…" Hermione slouched in her seat and was completely puzzled. "Luna, is that all you have to ask or say?"

Luna shrugged. A waitress came over and took their drink orders, and said she would return with them after they had perused the menu. When she was gone, Luna continued. "What else is there to know?"

"Plenty," Hermione anxiously chuckled. "Don't you want to know about Astoria's death? About Ron? About where Draco came from so out of the blue? None of it?"

"Oh, I don't need you to tell me about any of that," she smiled. "I know you would never kill anyone on purpose. Something bad must have happened for you to do it, nothing more. Ron's probably really upset, but you're happy now. A sad trade off, I must admit. I hope that he finds true love one day."

Again, Hermione's head was off to one side. "What makes you think that I didn't truly love Ron?"

Luna pointed to her ring. "You're getting married."

Hermione could smack herself. Of course that would be it, wouldn't it? But then Luna said something else that shocked her beyond belief.

"Your smile never reached your eyes when you got married," she said profoundly. She was gazing up at the ceiling, a dreamy expression on her face as though she was remembering. "It's only genuine when it does, and I feel like if it's the happiest day of your life, that's what should happen."

Hermione could only stare at the table then for she didn't know what to say. She had felt happy. Although, if she had to be honest with herself, she wasn't at her happiest. That had only been with Draco, someone who, at the time, she couldn't have.

"What are you thinking, Hermione?"

Hermione looked up at Luna and sighed. "All the times when I should've been honest."

"It's never too late to be honest," Luna told her as she patted her hand. "You can't change the past, so there's no point in thinking about it."

The waitress came back with their drinks and asked what they wanted to eat. Seeing as she came here regularly, Luna knew precisely what she wanted. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't, but food was the last thought on her mind. One shouldn't change the past, no, but that didn't mean she couldn't. If it could prevent Astoria's death, Ron's despair, and let her and Draco live out their lives as they were meant to, then it was worth the risk. Wasn't it?

Auror Gilling's mind was racing. He had spent the rest of his Monday trying to wrap his brain around Draco Malfoy's marriage. He had found it strange that the Department of Marriages and Divorces didn't have their marriage license on file. He had to examine Draco and Astoria's divorce papers in order get more information. It was then that he had begun going down a hole that got bigger and all the more confusing the more he looked.

Lester Walloby was a private solliciter for the Malfoy family. It appeared that he had overseen the divorce between Draco and Astoria and so it stood to reason that he may have overseen their marriage as well.

When Auror Gillings had reached the man's home/office he immediately had known something was off. The man seemed nervous to see him. Of course, anyone who handled Malfoy business should be nervous. This had just seemed in excess.

Auror Gillings had only needed to ask a few questions before a bomb dropped. The first was why Draco had filed for divorce. Lester had directed him to the terms written in the couple's divorce papers. The next was if he had had any hand in the Malfoy marriage. With a barely there hesitance, he had answered yes. When Auror Gillings had asked in what capacity, he said that he had drafted a contract. And when he had asked what kind, Lester became a mute. Literally.

Auror Gillings knew a Lip-Locker Curse when he saw one, but that didn't mean it had been easy to remove. In fact, he couldn't remove it at all. Versions of the curse such as that were complicated and required a lot of skill. Furthermore, only the caster could remove it.

Swearing, Auror Gillings had asked who had put the curse on him. No surprise showed on his face when the man had said Draco's name. Finally, he had asked Lester if there was anything that the Lip-Locker Curse could allow him to say. If not, was there something that he could show that would give further insight into Draco and Astoria's marriage.

That was when the hesitancy came back. Auror Gillings had promised him right then and there that he would come back with a warrant and tear his office and home apart unless he willingly gave up what he knew.

Lester had sighed then. He went to the side of his work desk, took out his wand, and aimed it at the floor. A handle appeared and he pulled it, something akin to a wine holder rose. Instead of wine, however, there had been scrolls. Lester pulled one and handed it to Auror Gillings.

"A copy of Draco and Astoria's marriage contract," Lester said. "Despite it being intact, only the original held bonding value."

And that had been the bomb. The words "blood bond marriage" had floated off the parchment to him, but it had only caused more confusion.

"But...you can't break a blood bond marriage. Can you?"

"A blood bond can only work between two living people."

Those words had haunted Auror Gillings from the moment he left Lester Walloby's office. If he understood Lester's less than cryptic message, a spouse had to die to get out of a blood bond marriage. That would certainly explain why Draco and Hermione had killed Astoria, self-defense be damned. But how was Draco able to successfully file for divorce beforehand?

It was puzzling and headache inducing, and Auror Gillings promised himself that he would spend the entire night at the Ministry trying to wrap his head around this thing. It was the end of the working day now, the atrium virtually empty. It was quiet enough to think. Or at least he thought so until one of the fireplaces activated and Hermione came through.

A blood-covered Hermione, to be precise.

Auror Gillings had been too far on the other side of the Ministry atrium for her to see him. Or perhaps she had been too frazzled to pay attention? Regardless, she ran clear across to the lifts and frantically pushed a button once inside. Auror Gillings couldn't see what she had pressed from where he was, but he did realize that the lift had gone down. There was only one floor that may have been of importance to her down there: the Department of Mysteries.

And so, he followed her.

Author's note: I love Luna. She sees things from an outside lens and I think that's why I love her so much. But alas, we've got Auror Gillings and Hermione covered in blood. Until the next chapter then!

-WP

Replies to Guests

lindseybee92: Ron is definitely hurting. He'll do just about anything at this point which, I admit, could be dangerous. As for DH, I think a bit more drama is coming before any steamy scenes come into play (uh oh!).

Brandon: I think it's hard to see pass Hermione's actions which might make it a bit of a struggle to like her. Especially considering who she's hurting in the process. It's kind of like turning a blind eye to satisfy yourself. As for Ron, he wants her because she was his. Because he wants to reclaim someone who, he feels, was stolen from him. A bit of a love thing. Perhaps a possessive thing. Not to mention the fact that it's Draco's presence, of all things, to have started this chaotic ripple.