He walked her to the door, with all the courtesy that could be expected from one of his social position. Being unused to ceremony, it made Bones nervous. She was expected to be able to handle this sort of thing, as the face of Hottie. It didn't seem to get any easier though.

He said her name as she was about to walk down the front porch steps and she turned back to him even though she wanted nothing more than to leave. Draco was leaning in the doorway and he grimaced as though regretting what he was about to say even before saying it. "If there's ever anything you want; ask," he said finally, the words coming out like an order or a threat. Something violent anyway.

Bones wouldn't, but she nodded her head forward ever so slightly. She knew that most Ministry factions would kill to have Draco Malfoy make that offer to them; she had never sullied Hottie with anything that could be construed as a bribe though. And she was sure that this offer, however baffling and unexpected, was genuine without hidden motive, but she didn't like to be indebted. "Hottie has pretty much everything it needs," she said.

Draco's eyes darkened with that inscrutable expression that Bones had seen on him a few times. Not anger, but not a pleasant emotion either. "I don't mean Hottie," he said. "I mean you. If you ever want anything…"

Bones tilted her head at him. There was nothing in the world that she wanted. Nothing that could be given at least. Her wants were too abstract. She wanted to feel like herself again. She wanted to be afraid of dying. To be afraid that those around her might die. She nodded though. "If I want anything I'll know where to come."

The hairs on the back of her arms prickled in discomfort under her robes and cloak. Even if that had not warned her, she would have known that someone was coming up the stairs behind her from the flash of recognition in Draco's eyes.

"Not here." The voice was cold and strangely brittle; it wasn't familiar.

Bones turned her head. She recognised the young man on the stairs beside her vaguely, but it took her a few moments to tie his face to a name. This possibly had something to do with the fact that he was glowering at her and she had never seen him glower before. "Nott," she said. "Theodore?"

His gaze did not warm. "Fuck," he said. "Off."

She laughed; because it was unexpected and she liked unexpected things. Nott hadn't been someone she'd much noticed at Hogwarts, and she didn't remember having seen him since; but from the small details she did remember of him, he had been quiet. Watchful rather than forceful.

Draco, rather than being amused, sounded scandalised. "Nott!" he snapped, voice darkly furious.

"You're not welcome here." Nott's gaze went from Bones to Draco, his eyes narrowing further, "Tell her she's not welcome," he demanded. It was obvious that he did not for a moment expect that Draco would refuse.

But he did. His brow furrowed and he met Nott's gaze steadily. "She is welcome here. Of course she is."

"You're an idiot." Nott didn't yell. His voice was low and menacing in a way that only Slytherin voices ever were. With one last, disgusted glance at Bones, he loped up the remaining steps and shouldered his way past Draco into the apartment with a force that was likely to bruise.

Once it would have taken Bones some effort not to laugh at that; now she wasn't careful enough of other people's feelings to suppress her laughter. Rather than offending Draco, however, the laugh made him relax. "Merlin," he said, rolling his eyes in affectionate exasperation. "I wish I could explain…" Something loud crashed in the apartment behind him and he winced a little before sighing.

"I don't," said Bones. "I like to come up with explanations on my own. It's so rare really that things are puzzling."

That made Draco smile at her; eyes softening as he levered himself off the door-frame. "Well," he said, turning to go back inside. "If you work it out, let me know."

"Blaise Zabini," said Bones and he stopped, but did not turn back to her. "I killed him. If Nott was his friend then there's no puzzle to it."

"That's a rational explanation," agreed Draco. Bones couldn't see his face, but from his tone she could tell that her rational explanation was also wrong. Not that he seemed to be trying to let her know she was off the mark; in fact, Bones suspected that he would have preferred her to make a mistake in the matter. But his voice was just a little too fast and casual when he'd agreed with her assessment. Which meant that he not only knew what the real issue was, but he didn't want her to know it.

Bones loved the times when she could feel the plot thickening around her; and this was one of them. But she'd work it out later, when she could ask Hermione or Hannah a little more about Theodore Nott's temperament.

She left Draco to go back inside and salvage whatever vases or plates Nott hadn't smashed and walked along the street. She'd intended to go back to Hottie and finish up some paperwork on two Death Eaters that she suspected were hiding out in Berlin, but was reconsidering it for a walk in the snow-laden streets.

Finally she decided to do both. Hottie was a reasonably long walk away; but she would walk there and do the research once she arrived.

By the time she stumbled, shivering through Hottie's main doors she had a considerable stash of possible rationalizations for Nott's anger.

"Jesus, Bones, were you out in that?" demanded Hermione, looking up from the reception desk as Bones sank into the armchair opposite.

The weather outside was appalling, and perhaps walking in it had not been the most sensible idea. "Hn." Bones sank her teeth into the tip of the finger of her right glove and tugged it off before pulling her wand to levitate a new log onto the fire in the grate.

"Flips sake," said Hermione irritably, pushing her chair out. "Do you want a tea or a coffee?"

"No, no, you have to stay," said Bones very definitely. "Get those horrid twins to fetch me drinks. I need to ask you questions."

Sighing, Hermione sank back into her chair before scribbling a note on a scrap of parchment and letting it fly off to find the closest Weasley twin. "Very well," she said. "What questions? I take it you have a new investigation underway?"

Bones considered. "Yes," she said finally. "Very new. Now, what do you know about Theodore Nott?"

"Theodore Nott?" Hermione's eyebrows rose. "Well, I think we've ruled him off our list as a possible Death Eater. He may have been a sympathiser, but not an active one. And there's no law against being sympathetic…"

Waving a hand dismissively, Bones said, "I'm not asking about that. I was curious as to whether his relationship with Draco Malfoy was romantic."

Hermione choked.

Leaning back in her chair and pulling off her other glove, Bones pressed her lips together in thought. "Does that mean that you know it's not or that you doubt it is?" she asked.

Gathering herself back together, Hermione gave Bones a sour look. She hated being caught off guard as Bones was very well aware. "I think that you're more in a position to say what sort of relationship Draco Malfoy might get himself into with Theodore Nott," she said tartly. "And it may be your business, but it certainly isn't mine."

"It isn't mine either, of course," said Bones, twirling her gloves as she spoke. "But I saw Nott today and the way he reacted to me was quite curious. I'm trying to work him out." After a moment, she stopped twirling her gloves and frowned. "Why would I be more in a position to say what sort of relationship Malfoy might get himself into?"

Giving a sigh of exasperation that Bones thought was totally unwarranted, Hermione threw her quill down. "For God's sake, Bones, I've only ever seen Malfoy look at one girl like he would gladly die or abscond Slytherin or whatever for them. Just one. I don't think that he'd choose to be with anyone else. Maybe as a convenience but not in any other capacity."

Bones chewed her thumbnail as she considered Hermione's theory. She had never seen Draco look at anyone like they were more important (or even as important) as him. "Who was this girl?" she asked.

Hermione stood up, shoving her chair back so hard that it crashed to the floor. "Look, find someone else," she snapped. "I'm not going to sit here playing this game with you; I have actual work to do." She was angrier about the situation than she'd usually be but Bones didn't try to appease her as she gathered her scrolls and stalked off to her own office.

She twirled her gloves some more and thought about Nott. He wouldn't be upset that she was in Hottie. It was one of the easiest explanations; Hottie was dedicated to bringing Dark Wizards down, and it was very good at what it did after all. Slytherins had had enough of a sense of self preservation after the war to never be openly heated about law enforcement agencies though as most law enforcement agencies took such things as a sign of guilt.

A mug of steaming hot chocolate was set down on the desk in front of her and Bones looked up to find George Weasley studying her. "Are you jealous?" he asked, reaching out with the hand that wasn't petting her hair to pull the other armchair across.

"If that's your hot chocolate, I am," said Bones as the aroma of it hit her. "I will hex you for it."

"This is why Hermione didn't send Fred out," said George, sinking into his chair.

Sometimes Bones wondered whether there were psychological side-effects to the twins' joke shop items, because sometimes the twins just didn't make sense. She hazarded a guess at his cryptic meaning anyway. "Because you can take a hex better than he can?"

George sighed and smacked Bones across the back of the head. "I'm not Fred," he pointed out rather unnecessarily. "I'm not going to take the easy path and shrug all of this off as some sort of casual joke. Are you jealous of Nott?" He was speaking in that easy mix of sympathy and demand that he had used so many times when things were tough during the war.

"Nott? Theodore Nott?" There was definitely something wrong with the twins' joke supplies. Perhaps they had fermented, or exceeded their use by dates. George was being vastly more incomprehensible than usual.

"Bones." She recognised this tone from the war too. It was the one he only ever used on her, because she was the only one who ever locked herself away and didn't eat for days as she tried to figure out how to stop You-Know-Who and how to keep everyone alive and how to make everything work. He still sounded worried and angry; and pained, as though she was being cruel and hurting him on purpose. "It's obvious that you want that Malfoy git. And I think you're being stupid. He's proven himself unworthy…"

"What is this?" Bones choked out. She could feel her face flaming. It was in embarrassment, but embarrassment that evidently everyone at the headquarters thought that she had some sad little obsession with Draco Malfoy of all people, not embarrassment at any unlikely truth that the notion might hold. "What makes you think I want anything to do with Draco Malfoy?" It was more disturbing that Hermione thought it though, really, because she usually had some basis for such things.

George sighed. "I can't talk to you when you're like this."

"George." Bones could tell that he wanted to storm off but something in her voice held him. She leant toward him. "There's nothing between me and Malfoy. I don't know what rumours are going around, but they're not true."

Passing a hand through his hair, George sighed again, more sadly. "I know you – you guys kept things pretty secret at Hogwarts," he said. Bones stared at him in stunned silence, wondering where he was getting this stuff from. There had been rumours circulating at Hogwarts, but she hadn't paid them much heed. Schools always had rivulets of gossip running through them, but Bones had had more important things to focus on than what people were saying about her and Malfoy. Even so the rumours had gotten back to her through both Cho Chang and Pansy Parkinson. Her closest friend in school, Hannah Abbot had seemed to believe them too. "But it was pretty obvious when he stopped sitting with you in Potions. And then…" He faltered, looked away from Bones and went on with all of his usual Gryffindor resolution. "When he killed Dumbledore, you fell apart."

"So he sat with me once or twice in Potions and I was upset when Dumbledore died," said Bones with an incredulous laugh. "Harry was upset when Dumbledore died too, and no one tries to tell him that he has an unhealthy obsession with Malfoy."

"He hasn't forgiven the git without even seeming to expect an explanation."

"I have nothing to forgive!" Bones almost yelled in frustration. "He was on our side; we have enough people to testify that he was spying for us. Hell, I testified that he was spying for us. What do you want me to do? Demand that he crawl and beg forgiveness for doing a job that we needed done?"

"Not everything's about the war!" George exploded, his calm snapping. "You can't forgive people for doing the right thing in a war when they've done the wrong thing by you personally! You go on like the only thing in the world that matters is this bloody horrible war; and you don't care about anything else!"

Bones hadn't been close to the twins or Hermione before they'd been in the D.A. together, and by then much of what happened with Malfoy had fallen by the way-side. She could remember though, the alleged Mudblood slurs and rumours that Malfoy insulted the Weasley family as cruelly as possible any chance he had. Those rumours, like most rumours, she had paid no heed to. She preferred to see things for herself before casting judgement. "I'm sorry," she said now, because perhaps she should have thought about the rumours when they involved her friends. "I didn't know…" She wasn't sure how to finish. I didn't know he'd hurt you so much? I didn't know the extent of what was done? She didn't think that either response would be taken well so she left the sentiment unfinished.

"We need you," said George. "We don't need you to get rid of the last of the Death Eaters or to be the face of our organisation so that the wizarding world can feel safe in the knowledge that something's being done to keep them protected. We need you for day to day life. I know you're not getting better right now, but don't do something that will make you worse." He was more likely to be serious than his twin; but it still wasn't a regular occurrence so his words hit home more than Hermione's had when she'd offered similar sentiments.

Bones wished that she could tell him that she'd be fine once the world was righted. That she'd be the same Hufflepuff girl he'd met; too naive to get all of the jokes he told, but cheerfully resolved to be pleased with any pranks that were tried on her. She didn't break promises though, so she said nothing.

The twins were closer to Bones than most of the other Hottie members. They could take her sharpness more easily; it didn't hurt them so much when she was cruel. So George read more into her silence than Hermione or Fleur or Krum would have. He only sighed though. They'd given up on trying with her; because she was determined not to try with herself.

Okay, I think this one is more confusing than any of them so far. Bear with it. Next chapter starts to explain (flipping finally)