Here we are then: Chapter Thirteen! Tis Ironic that this chapter gave me so much bother.
I do apologise for the lateness of this upload. Life has been mad these past few months and I had to put the writing aside for a while. To make up for it, I'm uploading three chapters this week. I'm getting this chapter out tonight and I'll upload the rest at the weekend. The chapters are quite long, so I highly recommend getting a cup of tea while you read :)
Btw, how exciting is the news about the cursed child? I got two tickets for next August and I'm going a few days after my 29th birthday. I'm very excited and I can't wait. I hope they film the show so people outside the UK and Ireland can see it too.
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So, to recap with the story: Muldover is missing. Malfoy is writing letters. The trio is not happy.
(Content Warning: discussions of mental health. A Malfoy Manor scene with implied sexual assault, rape; this scene is written in italics if you want to skip)
Chapter Thirteen
27th October 1998
"And you're sure he's been taken?"
Robbin nodded, his face grave. He wiped the sweat off his top lip and clasped his hands together in front of his body.
"My partner informs me that the house was trashed," he said. "There was clearly a struggle."
Narcissa looked away from Robbin. Her hands began to shake; she lifted them off the table so that they lay at her side.
"They've found nothing of Muldover? No trace of him?"
"No. James says they've gone through a number of channels but there's been no admission of responsibility."
Silence.
Slowly, Narcissa got out of her chair. She began to walk about her cell, her hands wringing together, her head bowed. Robbin watched her with worried eyes.
She hadn't planned for this. Nobody, not even Potter, could have foreseen that they'd be faced with such a hurdle. There was no question in Narcissa's mind, this wasn't coincidence.
Narcissa had chosen Muldover to facilitate the meeting because he seemed like the perfect candidate. Like most people in the Dark Lord's sphere of influence, she was familiar with the Auror Office and its many members. Knowledge like that was important, a practical security measure. It was important, the Dark Lord had said, to know who the enemy was.
The Death Eaters put the Aurors into different categories as a way of distinguishing who was threat and who wasn't. There were Coasters, the Aurors that were were just in the office for the sake of the salary and did the bare minimum, the sort of people that could be bought and sold with a bribe; Newbies, enthusiastic graduates with energy to burn, easy to kill but tiresome to throw off; Middlers, Aurors like Dawlish who did a good job but weren't scary enough to lose sleep over; Bulldogs, the sort of Aurors that lived and breathed hunting Death Eaters, the sort that had a mad glint in their eye and wouldn't sleep until you were dead, people like Nymphadora Tonks and Mad Eye Moody.
Muldover wasn't a coaster but he wasn't exactly a middler either, which had made Narcissa think he was perfect. He was a senior Auror, but not high enough to feel compromised or any sort of loyalty to his organisation; Muldover didn't worship at the feet of Kingsley Shacklebolt. He'd arrested quite a few of Narcissa's friends over the years but had never crossed her path. Most importantly, as Robbin had discovered in his investigations, Muldover was a family man, recently divorced and in a desperate financial situation.
"Mrs Malfoy?"
She turned to look at her Advocate, who was watching her anxiously. She could tell that he wanted her to come up with a plan, pull some sort of a solution out of a hat and fix everything. This had been her idea.
"When you looked into Muldover did you find anything suspicious? A drug habit, grudges? Anyone that might take it upon themselves to get rid of him?"
"None. Muldover's been around a lot and he's made a lot of arrests but nobody that would come calling. That's what I meant when I said they were looking for him through the usual channels. James says Muldover made a few enemies when he worked in Russia a few years ago but the people there have denied any involvement."
She stood up. She had a clearer head when she was on her feet.
Draco. Lucius. They were the only people she could think of. If Muldover had been taken, if somebody knew what she'd done, what Potter had done...her family were as good as dead.
Stay calm, she told herself. They didn't know anything yet. Muldover could be gone for a number of different reasons. It didn't mean what she feared.
"I find it hard to believe that anybody out there knows what happened," she said. "We kept this under wraps. Potter was under his cloak, nobody saw you."
"I know," said Robbin. "Are you sure that Draco or Lucius didn't mention accidentally or..."
"No," she said sharply, "my husband and son aren't careless."
"Do you trust Potter to keep his word?"
She saw the suspicion in his eyes, the fear that they'd been double crossed; that Potter had broken his word. She knew if that was the case Robbin would blame her for everything that followed.
Could Potter have told somebody about the meeting? Could that have gotten back to somebody in the Death Eater ranks?
Harry Potter was many things: a mudblood lover, a fool, a jumped up, self righteous idiot who thought he knew better than wizards older and wiser than him. But he wasn't a liar; he wasn't the sort of man to go back on his word. He would never have betrayed their agreement.
"If somebody has betrayed us, it wasn't Potter" she said, solemnly. "
"What about the Weasleys?"
She paused.
No. Certainly not.
The Weasleys were Potter's most loyal supporters. They'd been with Potter since day one; no other family had given up so much to support him. Narcissa knew Arthur and Molly Weasley would give up a limb rather than betray Potter, their sons and daughter were exactly the same.
However...
Percy Weasley had turned against his family before the war. He was loyal to the Ministry, so loyal that he hadn't even made up with his family when they'd been proved right that the Dark Lord was back.
Yes, thought Narcissa, if anybody was likely to squeal it would be Percy Weasely. Then again, if he'd told somebody in the Ministry she, Potter, Sheppard and Robbin would all be in cuffs. Weasley was a turncoat but would he do it at the expense of his career? Possibly...
"Percy Weasley," she said to Robbin. "He's loyal to the Ministry and has turned on his family before. It could be him. He wasn't too keen on coming to the meeting and he didn't like what I said to him. He could have let something slip."
Robbin's expression cleared. He didn't look completely convinced but he seemed to follow her line of thinking.
"I suppose Weasley would be the prime suspect." he agreed. "Although...who did he tell if he did betray us? And how did the information get into the hands of whoever has kidnapped the Auror?"
"Well, no, that certainly doesn't make sense..."
She paused, leaning against the little desk in the corner of the room.
"Investigate Weasley," she told Robbin. "Do it discreetly. We need to be sure it's him. If we can confirm it's Weasley we can start to figure out who knows and prepare ourselves for what's next."
Robbin nodded, looking slightly comforted. "I would argue that finding out who got their hands on the Auror is our biggest priority." He sighed. "I'm worried Mrs Malfoy. Very worried..."
"If it's Weasley then we squash him before it gets traced back to us," she told him, firecely. "We can outwit these people before they get to us."
Robbin looked uncomfortable at the mention of engaging in further illegal activities,but nodded.
"Who are 'these people'?" he asked.
Narcissa sighed. "Death Eaters? People who hate my family? Probably a combination of both."
"There's a more pressing problem," said Robbin, biting his lip. "The money we gave Muldover. If he lodged it in his bank account..."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. The money. She had forgotten.
"If he lodged the money there's no way for it to be traced back to us," she said. "We gave the money to you and you gave it to him."
"Yes," said Robbin, looking pale "but any half wit can trace bank records."
Narcissa imagined the Aurors looking through the Gringotts bank records, tracing all the money going in and out the various bank accounts in the days leading up Muldover's disappearance. If Muldover had lodged the money, there would be a clear record of it going into his account.
She felt bile rise up in her throat. No, she told herself, she had to stay calm, she had to think of this logically.
"If he didn't lodge the money in his account," she said, "they'll find the cash and wonder where it came from. It might stall them for a while."
"We have a small window of opportunity," Robbin noted, "until his body turns up they'll be focusing on Muldover's whereabouts and who could have kidnapped him. They'll start checking bank accounts when they get no leads. The Goblins don't like wizards investigating their bank records. James says it takes a while for the Goblins to hand documents over."
Narcissa nodded. She felt a bit better. They had a few days breathing space; a plan, a purpose.
When Robbin left, she sat on her bed and stared up at the ceilling. The sky was grey today, fake rain pattering on the glass. Narcissa wondered if it was raining outside, if winter was staring to take its grip.
Now that her Advocate was out of the room Narcissa let the fear she'd been keeping at bay overcome her. Somebody was out to get her. Somebody had kidnapped Muldover to reach her and hurt her family.
Narcissa thought about the Death Eaters who had, so far, avoided capture: Rowle, McNair, Thorfin... Any one of them had the motivation to seek out Muldover and hurt her.
Narcisa knew that whoever had heard about her meeting with Potter could only surmise about what had happened in the Forest in May; that was her only comfort. Her memory drifted back to that night; she could still smell the damp Forest Floor, the dirt on Potter's clothes. The second she made the decision to lie to the Dark Lord she had marked herself for death.
It was ironic, she thought that she'd lied to the Dark Lord to save her son and now, thanks to her actions, her son was in even bigger danger. She thought of Draco, out on bail and staying with the insipid mess that was Sophia Crabbe. The Ministry thought they were protecting her son with Aurors and protective charms but any Death Eater could crush them.
Rage welled inside her. She was still angry her son had walked out on her, abandoned Robbin and sought to distance himself from the family. If only he'd listened to her, made an agreement with Potter just like she'd asked. He was exposed outside the holding cells and his arrogance blinded him to the dangers he faced.
If Percy Weasley had betrayed them he would pay. Whoever was out there, whoever knew about the meeting with Potter had underestimated her. She had tricks up her sleeve as well.
She was going to win. She would win.
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Malfoy Manor. Spring 1998.
"Wait all except...except the mudblood."
The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She was gripped with a strange sensation: everything around her felt slow and bright; the smells and sounds of the drawing room were suddenly magnified. The sensation reminded Hermione of what it had felt like to drink a few glasses of wine at the wedding except, this time, the light headedness she felt was due to fear and anxiety, not giddy jubilation.
Greyback grinned at her. His eyes raked up and down her body and he licked his lips. Bellatrix pulled her wand, her expression calculating.
This wasn't happening. It wasn't happening.
Ron had found her hand, somehow, even though he was tied behind her. His nails were digging into her hand and she was sure she would bleed. She was so frightened that she didn't grip back.
"No! You can have me, keep me!"
He shouted out for her, yelling at Bellatrix. His voice was raw and full of pain. She realised in that moment that he didn't just fancy her, he loved her, had been in love with her for a very long time. The knowledge was like a punch to her windpipe. She was about to suffer and possibly die, she would never have the chance to talk to Ron and tell him how she felt.
Bellatrix dragged her across the room, her fingernails digging into her forehead. Hermione saw the others being dragged out of the door. Ron was looking back at her desperately, his face full of anguish. Dean was craning his neck around to find her eyes; he looked sick. She wished she could see Harry's face.
"Scared filthy mudblood?" Bellatrix dropped her on the floor with a thud and began to pace. She was smirking. Her hand gripped her wand, the thumb slowly rubbing the handle.
Hermione's mouth went dry. Her heart fluttered against her chest. Her brain had gone fuzzy.
I have to remain calm, thought Hermione. I have to keep my head together. For Harry. For Ron.
She glanced around the room. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood in the far corner, avidly staring between Hermione and Bellatrix. Draco was not yet back from taking the prisoners outside...
"What are you going to do Narcissa?" Lucius barked. "Hurry up."
Bellatrix was walking around her in a circle. Lying on the ground the high ceiling of the drawing room above her, Hermione had never felt so small.
The curse hit her before she was aware of the spell leaving Bellatrix's mouth. Hermione had read countless books on the Cruciatus Curse, studied the symptoms and side effects. Harry had been right; nothing in a book could ever describe this.
Hermione couldn't compare the pain she felt to anything else. It was a deep pain that went all the way to her insides, pushing at her organs and touching her bones. It was the sort of pain that made her wish for death. Dumbledore had been right: there were some things worse than dying.
She screamed louder than she'd ever done in her entire life, curling up on the floor and clutching her body. Her throat felt ripped to shreds. She could taste bitterness at the back of her throat. Blood.
"Did you like that filthy mudblood?" Bellatrix hissed. "There's more where that came from if you don't tell the truth."
Oh god. Oh god.
She wanted to be brave but she couldn't be. This was like a horror movie; a horrible nightmare that needed to end.
"Where did you find the sword?" snapped Bellatrix, glaring down at her.
"We...we found it, we don't..."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying. I'm not..."
"Crucio!"
Pain. Indescribable pain.
"YOU ARE LYING! I'm going to ask you again, where did you get the sword? WHERE?"
She was breathless. She couldn't think.
"We found it-we found it- PLEASE!"
She wanted to die. She couldn't cope with it anymore. For the first time in her life Hermione longed for the green flash of light.
She lay with her face pressed into the floor, panting. She curled up into the fetal position, crying. She wanted her mother, her father. She would give anything to be with them, her mind blank of this world.
"Where did you find the sword? Tell me!"
She could only cry into the floor. Her tears slid down her chin and on to the wood.
The door opened and Greyback stepped into the room. He was back from the cellar. His face split into a grin when he saw her. Hermione felt her whole body start to shake.
"Look at me!"
Bellatrix grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. She pressed her face close to Hermione's and hissed into her face.
"You will tell me the truth! You will be dead either way! If you tell me now I might spare you the pain..."
She sobbed, shaking her head. "We found it, we found it, I swear...it..."
"You filthy little lying mudblood, you..."
Bellatrix began to hiss insults into her ear. Hermione turned her face away from Bellatrix, sobbing. Her eyes landed on the Malfoys. They were standing off to the side. Narcissa Malfoy's face was impassive, avoiding her eyes. Lucius looked impatient, his arms folded.
"What's going on?"
Draco had returned to the room. He was froze in the doorway, his eyes were fixed on Hermione and Bellatrix.
"Come here Draco." Narcissa gestured her son to her side; her voice was soft.
Draco walked to his mother's side. His eyes continued to move rapidly between Hermione and Bellatrix. He looked horrified.
Help me, thought Hermione, stop her...do something. Do anything...
He didn't. He continued to stare at her. His eyes, so green, bore into her pupils.
She wasn't sure why she thought Draco would help her. When had he ever considered her as anything more than a mudblood? All Hermione knew was that Draco was the only person in the room to look at all bothered by what was going on.
"Maybe this will make you open your mouth. Greyback, hold her down."
She began to struggle as Bellatrix grabbed her arm and held it to the floor. On her other side, Greyback, grinning, grabbed her arm and held it down. His nails dugs into her skin, she could smell the stench off his breath. He sounded excited, happy.
Panicked, looking rapidly from left and right, Hermione tried to see what Bellatrix was doing.
"Please...Please..."
The next thing she felt was the cold edge of a knife digging into her arm. She screamed the pain was so bad. She would give anything for it to stop...to feel normal again.
When she was finished Bellatrix glowered over her. "Speak you stupid Mudlbood. Talk! .THE. SWORD?"
"We found it...we found it...I'm not lying..."
"You are lying filthy mudblood and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth! Tell the truth!"
Bellatrix put her under the curse again. When she was finished screaming, Hermione curled into a ball on the floor and sobbed.
"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth, or, I swear I shall run you through with this knife!"
She couldn't answer. She could only cry. Her body was failing; she felt tired, exhausted beyond belief. She couldn't cope with the pain anymore. Her eyesight was becoming blurry. Her head felt like it was splitting open. Her arm seared with burning pain. A part of her wanted Bellatrix to stab her straight through the heart; It would end her pain quick. This would all be over.
Her eyes landed on Draco again. He was frozen on the spot, gaping at her. He was pale, anxious looking. He moved gingerly from foot to foot.
"If she's not going to talk Miss Bellatrix maybe I can make her talk?"
Greyback.
She looked up and saw the werewolf staring down at her. He was smiling at her, his teeth fully bared. His eyes were glittering.
"Not yet Greyback," snapped Bellatrix. "I can't trust that you'll be able to control yourself. You might kill her before we get any information out of her..."
Hermione looked between Bellatrix and Narcissa. How could they do this to her, a woman? How could they let Greyback threaten to harm her like that? Hermione had always been taught that there was a bond between witches, something there that wizards could never have. Where was that bond now?
Draco had gone paler since Greyback started talking; he looked between Hermione and Greyback with dread.
Do something, Hermione willed him. Do something you useless, spineless bastard.
Bellatrix kicked her in the stomach. Hermione doubled over clutching her ribs.
"Talk!" commanded Bellatrix. "Tell the truth or I'll let Greyback here have his way with you." Bellatrix began to walk in a circle around Hermione again, sneering. "I know all about you, Hermione Granger. I've read all about you in the papers. They all say that you're "remarkably intelligent" for a mudblood and "top of your class." Bellatrix glared at her like she was something disgusting on the ground. "You think you're smarter than me, don't you? You think you can lie to me, ME of all people. I am a Black, I am a Lestrange and a pure blood and I outrank you in every way. You should be begging me to spare your life."
For the next few minutes she was hit with the curse over and over again. Through her screams she could hear Bellatrix and Greyback laughing. She had never felt so worthless in her life, so small or insignificant. A small part of her wanted to give in, to end it all. She thought about slicing her throat with Bellatrix's knife, she thought about begging Bellatrix to kill her.
You can't give in, Hermione thought. You have to stay strong. You're tougher than this. You can beat this.
When the pain stopped she felt limp and lifeless. The room was spinning; her eyes were so full of water that it was hard to see. She tasted vomit in her mouth. Her hearing was muffled. She felt like she was wearing a pair of earmuffs. Through her haze, she thought she could hear Bellatrix yelling.
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
Ron's muffled voice, appearing from nowhere, drifted across her mind. Was she dreaming? Had she started to lose her mind?
"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
No. It was really him. Ron. His voice rumbled from somewhere below her. Hermione closed her eyes and pressed her hand to the floor. For a few seconds she felt happy again. She remembered how Ron had looked in the tent at night on guard duty-his red hair blowing gently in the wind, his freckles splattered across his nose. She had watched him sometimes when he thought she wasn't looking. She remembered his laugh, how his eyes lit up when he was telling a joke.
Somebody slapped her in the face. Hermione awoke on the floor of the drawing room. The light of the chandelier was glittering at her. She had passed out.
"...slow it down at bit Bellatrix so she stays awake!"
"Don't tell me what to do!"
Greyback was leaning over her. He grabbed her chin with the tips of his fingers and forced her to look at him.
"We'll have our bit in the end sweetheart," he said.
He bent down to her ear and whispered exactly what he was going to do her when Bellatrix was finished.
Even though her strength had started to leave her, even though she felt like passing out again, Hermione pushed Greyback away and started to crawl across the floor.
Bellatrix darted across the floor and blocked her path.
"Greyback get away from her! Didn't I tell you to wait!"
"Calm down women, calm down..."
Bellatrix shoved her down on the floor again. She pushed her foot into Hermione's abdomen.
Hermione rolled back down on to the floor and dragged herself across the floor. She had to get away from Greyback. She had to get out of here, she had to escape, she had to free Ron and Harry. She would give anything to have them near her. She would give up her magical powers. Her everything.
Hermione glanced at the Malfoys again. Narcissa was starting to look pale. Lucius looked impatient. Draco was watching Hermione and Greyback with a look of horror on his face.
Help me, Hermione willed Draco. Do something, anything.
Without warning, Bellatrix was torturing her again. Somewhere, through her screams, Hermione could hear Ron yelling her name.
"I'm getting impatient! Tell me the truth or perhaps I will let Greyback here have a small piece of you..."
There was silence. Hermione breathed deeply. She was going to pass out again. The room was spinning.
"Dad...Dad...you have to...Dad don't... Make it stop."
The voice was faint. Hermione wasn't sure whether she quite heard it.
She looked over at the Malfoys. Draco was pulling at his father's arm, like a child.
"What was that? Draco?" Bellatrix snapped her head around to stare at her nephew. There was fury in her eyes.
Lucius threw a terrified look at his son. Draco took a step back.
"I just...I think...couldn't we..." Draco's voice was barely above a whisper.
"What Draco? What are you saying?" Bellatrix's voice was brittle, annoyed.
Hermione stared at Draco. If she had more strength she would have lifted her head to look at him properly.
"I think you should stop..." Draco mumbled, looking confused by his own words. "I'm not saying we shouldn't keep her here for the Dark Lord but..."
"Stop?" Bellatrix hissed. "Is that what you're trying to say?" Her eyes were incensed. She looked furious at Draco.
Draco cowered under his Aunt's gaze. He took several steps back so that he was against the wall.
"I think you should...you should..." Hermione watched as Draco tried to muster up the courage to say the right thing. His voice became stronger. His face became hardened. When Bellatrix got to her feet his entire facade crumbled.
"What Draco?" snapped Bellatrix.
"Nothing," said Draco, his eyes staring at the floor, "I...forget it."
"Do you feel sorry for her Draco?" hissed Bellatrix.
"Mudblood lover," sneered Greyback.
Draco's eyes flared up in fear. His face was a sneer, full of disgust.
"I'm not a mudblood lover," he spat.
Draco took a step backwards to stand behind his parents. His head bent. He didn't look at Hermione anymore. He didn't look at her when Bellatrix tortured her even more and Greyback began to laugh. When Hermione lied, telling Bellatrix that the sword was a copy, Narcissa sent Draco to the cellars to fetch Griphook. Hermione understood why; Narcissa wanted to keep Draco out of the room..
Hermione decided then that she hated Draco Malfoy more than anyone else in the room. He was a coward; a feckless waste of space.
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"No, absolutely not."
Ron looked up from Draco Malfoy's letter. Hermione was standing with her arms folded, her eyes ablaze. Harry was still sitting on the bed; he looked weary and fed up.
"You're not going to meet Draco Malfoy," Hermione snapped at Harry. "Send a reply back right now. You need to tell Audrey about this. It's unacceptable. It's..."
"What's going on?"
George had entered the room.
"You should go George," said Hermione. "This is private."
George leaned against the door. He eyed Hermione shrewdly.
"It's not private when it involves him," he said, nodding at Ron. "Nice storm out Potter. Can you go a day without doing anything dramatic?"
"It's OK," Ron told Hermione. "Let George stay."
"But..."
"He's not going to tell anyone."
"Tell me what?"
Ron and Harry shared a look. They could trust George, he would keep his word. After a few moments, Ron handed his brother the letter before Hermione could splutter out an objection.
There was silence as George's eyes ran over the letter. "Holy shit," he said, looking up at them with an raised eyebrow.
"I'm done with getting letters from the Malfoys," said Harry, dully. He was staring into space, his face blank. "They never say anything nice."
"We need to give this to Audrey," said Hermione, taking the letter off George. "She'll know what to do. Draco can't get away with this."
"What does the little shit think he's doing?" asked George, sitting on the bed. "Surely he doesn't think you're actually going to meet up with him? He's under house arrest for fuck sake."
"I suppose he wants to try and convince us not to sell him out," said Ron. It was the only explanation for Malfoy's letter.
"I haven't said that I'm going to do what his mother asked," said Harry, irritably. "I've said nothing. Narcissa raised it with me and Audrey told me not to agree anything."
"None of us have agreed anything," said Ron. He looked at Harry, sitting slumped on the bed and Hermione, leaning against the wall a guarded, angry look on her face. "We haven't discussed it."
Apart from his father, Ron had spoken about Draco with Harry and George briefly. With Harry they'd talked about what Mrs Malfoy wanted, why she'd made her request and what her mind set was. He'd never talked about what they should do. George had asked and he'd said at the time that he wasn't sure.
Ron still didn't know what to do. He felt lost and torn between a mad idea for revenge and doing the right thing.
Hermione looked uncomfortable by the topic of conversation. She stood silently for a moment before seizing the opportunity to grab the letter out of George's hand.
"We need to give this to Audrey," she said, making a start towards the door. She looked determined.
"No, wait," said Harry, holding up a hand.
"Why?" asked Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Harry what could you possibly be thinking now?!
"Can we just...I don't know...talk this one out?" said Harry.
"Talk about what?" snapped Hermione, looking haughty. "You can't be thinking of going to visit Draco?"
"No! Of course not. I just think we should talk about...him and what we're going to do...what you want to do."
They stared at one another, their eyes focused and determined. The tension that had rushed into the room at the mention of Draco seemed to burst and scatter over the room, seeping into the air.
Ron knew that Harry was raising the subject of Draco because Hermione had been so quiet about it, so inside her own head about what she wanted to do. From what she'd said when she arrived at the Burrow yesterday, it sounded like she was considering doing what Mrs Malfoy wanted her to do. Ron was worried by her behaviour. It was completely out of character. It didn't make sense.
Hermione paused before folding her arms and fixing Harry with an odd look.
"What do you mean what I'm going to do?" she asked.
Harry frowned at Hermione. Ron knew he was just as confused by Hermione's attitude as he was.
"Well, I know I haven't promised Mrs Malfoy anything...but she wanted me to lie about Draco. What do you think? I get the impression you've made your mind up about this. Some of it concerns you."
"I haven't made my mind up about anything," snapped Hermione, crossly.
"You just seem...you..."
"I what Harry?" Hermione spat at him.
"You just seem...you didn't seem too opposed to the idea of lying about Draco."
Hermione glared at Harry. "I don't want to lie about Draco," she said through gritted teeth.
"Okay. We'll do that then."
"Right." Hermione looked startled that a decision had been made.
"See," said Harry, folding his arms as well, "you're not being honest with me."
"I am!"
"You're not! What's going on? Come on you can tell me. Tell the truth..."
"I am telling the truth!" snarled Hermione, suddenly, hurling her voice at Harry. She sounded bitter, her voice contorted with pain and anger. Harry visibly flinched, looking taken aback.
There was something unsettling about Hermione's appearance. She stood rigid agains the door, her shoulders hunched and her feet apart. It looked like she was preparing herself for a fight, like she was on guard.
Ron was shutting this down.
"Back off Harry," he growled. He was just as shocked by Hermione's reaction as Harry but his best friend had gone too far. Why had he raised this now? Why had he done it off guard and confronted Hermione without warning?
Ron had always stood up for Hermione when he felt that Harry was giving Hermione a rough time but this was different. The anger he bore towards Harry was possessive in nature. Hermione was his girlfriend. He had a duty to look out for her, and stand up for her. He didn't own Hermione but she was his. If Harry upset Hermione, he was upsetting Ron as well. The dynamic in the trio had changed.
Harry blanched at Ron's remark but looked instantly mollified. Ron glared at him.
"I can tell Harry when to back off Ron," said Hermione, frowning.
Ron was taken aback. "I was only just..."
"I know what you were doing. Please, I can handle this."
"Hermione," said Harry, "I didn't mean to annoy you..."
"Well you did," she said, solemnly. Her eyes were hard and unforgiving.
"I'm just..." Harry held his hands up in surrender, "I just want to know what we should do because if we're going to lie about Draco..."
"Nobody's agreed to lie about Draco!" cried Ron.
"Why are we still arguing then?" said Harry, frustrated.
There was a pause as they glared at one another George, still sitting awkwardly in the corner, stared at them like they were a very interesting play.
"I don't want to lie under oath," said Hermione, suddenly. She spoke as if she'd been bursting to speak for minutes. "I just...I don't want to see Draco walk away. I don't want to allow him to portray himself as some tragic antihero, that he was pushed into everything and didn't want to do it all... I know, Harry," she added as he opened his mouth, "that it's true to a certain extent but let's not forget that Draco was initially keen on doing what he did until it got hard."
"Nobody wants to portray Draco was an innocent victim," said Harry, "but he is who he is because of his parents. Voldemort threatened to kill his father and kill him if he didn't do as he asked. I don't want to lie about what really happened."
"I know that," said Hermione, "and you're right but for years Draco was a horrible bigot. He hated me because of where I came from. He hated Ron's family because they had the decency to be nice about muggles and muggleborns! He wished I'd died when I was petrified. He hated me before I'd even met him and he still does. " She stared at Harry and Ron with sad, angry eyes. "You have no idea, either of you, what's it's like to be hated for being you, to be made to feel like you're nothing."
Ron opened his mouth hesitantly. He didn't want to ask, but he had to know. "What...what did Mrs Malfoy mean, when she said that Draco asked Bellatrix to stop?"
Hermione glared at the floor. "I don't want to talk about it," she said, through gritted teeth. "I told you that."
George and Harry stared and Ron felt embarrassed that Hermione was making their arguments public.
"Look, let's just...let's ignore this." Harry picked up Draco's note and scrunched it in his hand. He threw it on the bed and said, "Draco can go fuck himself. We'll...we'll talk about this another time."
"Will we?" said Hermione. Her voice was quiet but deadly. "You've made that decision have you?"
"Hermione!" said Ron, shocked at her tone.
Harry watched Hermione carefully, his brows furrowed and an incredulous look in his eyes. When he spoke next his voice was slow and measured, like he was holding something back. "What do you mean by that?"
Hermione looked as though she'd like to argue but, instead, she stood up straight and addressed the room at large. "I'm going to go for a walk," she announced.
Harry cocked an eyebrow.
"I'll come with you," said Ron, immediately.
Hermione shook her head. "No, I want to be alone."
"But-"
Without a word Hermione turned around, threw the letter on the floor and slammed the door behind her. Ron watched her leave with an open mouth.
"What the hell just happened?" he said, looking around at Harry and George.
Harry said nothing; he stared out the window looking morose. Annoyed, Ron turned on his best friend.
"Why did you have to push her on Malfoy?" he snapped. "You've upset her now."
Harry looked at him, angry. "We need to talk about this! You saw her face yesterday! I thinks she wants to do it. I think she wants to lie."
"She clearly didn't want to talk about it!"
"Says the bloke who's clearly been pushing her talk as well!"
"Not in the way you have!"
"Wise up Ron, you know damn well that we need to sort this out! And I'm not just talking about Draco I'm talking about Hermione and what's going on with her..."
"If she wants to tell us she'll tell us"
"You mean when she wants to you, not me," said Harry, snorting.
"That's out of line."
Harry ignored him. "Her behaviour doesn't worry you?"
"Of course it fucking does, but we can't push it out of her! She doesn't tell me anything!"
Ron sighed a little as he finished talking. He couldn't hide his frustration that Hermione refused to confide in him.
"This all a bit rich coming from you Potter."
Ron blinked at the sound of George's voice. He'd forgotten his brother was there, still sitting on the edge of the bed. George was watching Harry with a curious look of incredulity and sadness.
"What?" said Harry, looking as if he'd only remembered George was there too.
"What about you, eh?" said George. "Never mind Hermione, you hardly to talk to anyone either. You've spent the past six months living like a hermit and avoiding most human contact. You shut down when anybody asks you anything."
"I don't see how this is relevant," said Harry, though he was starting to turn red.
"Of course it's fucking relevant. You put Hermione in a corner and demand she spill her soul while you keep your mouth shut about your own problems."
"Oh shut up George," said Harry, rolling his eyes.
"Hey!" said Ron, "don't tell him to shut up."
"You're talking nonsense," said Harry, "there's nothing wrong with me. I spent the past seven years fighting a dark wizard I deserve some down time."
"Down time?" said George, skeptically. "Is that what you call it? If it had been that fun I wouldn't have needed months of therapy or the antidepressants."
"I'm not fucking depressed."
"Well you really are miracle boy, aren't you?"
Harry stood up, shaking his head. He looked furious. "I have a headache," he said. "I'm going for a walk."
George snorted. Ron gaped at his best friend. "Harry, come on..." he said. "Let's talk this out."
Harry ignored him. Scowling, he shoved his hands in his pockets and brushed past Ron, leaving the room and slamming the door behind him.
"Well," said George. "That was dramatic."
Ron stared at the door. How was it that only an hour ago he, Hermione and Harry had all been on good terms. His best friends' absence from the room was suddenly pronounced and gaping.
"What was that?," he cried.
George looked amused. He stood up and wandered over to Harry's bed where the letter from Draco was lying, crumpled, in a ball.
"What do we do with this?" he asked. "Burn it?"
Ron glared at the letter. He knew Hermione was right, that they really should take the letter to Audrey or Percy...but something stopped him.
"Have you got a quill?" he asked.
"Wait, what? Ron-"
He set the letter on the table, picked up a quill from under Harry's bed and began to write underneath it.
"Malfoy..."
"Ron what the hell are you doing? You shouldn't write back to him. That's stupid."
Malfoy,
You're mad if you think we would say yes to this. Shove your meeting up your arse. Don't ever write to us again.
Ron Weasley.
He folded up the letter and gave it to the owl.
"Ron if somebody finds that letter..."
He didn't care. He put the letter in the owl's beak and sent it on its way.
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She needed to go back to her parent's house. She couldn't stay here and face that sort of interrogation for the next few weeks.
Picking up her clothes and belongings (which lay strewn across Ron's floor), she shoved them angrily into the beaded bag. At one point she was so upset that she almost threw the bag across the room.
She felt ambushed, annoyed. How dare Harry demand her position on Draco? How dare Ron bring up what Mrs Malfoy had told them? How dare either of them suppose that she was going to open up to them?
She didn't want to talk about Draco because it made her too angry. It reminded her that he'd been a coward; that he'd clearly been uncomfortable with what was happening and hadn't done anything. Talking about Draco meant talking about the Manor and what Bellatrix had said to her, what Greyback had said to her and how it had made her feel. She wasn't ready to talk about it yet.
Hermione realised, through her cloud of anger, that Harry and Ron had always been this presumptuous. Her best friends just expected her to have answers, to explain things to them like they were children. They were so close, their lives so intrictly linked that they expected her to give up a part of herself on a plate.
She felt anxious, worried. There was too much happening at once: the Auror was missing, Draco was trying to meet Harry, she had the opportunity to punish Draco and the prospect appealed to her, which frightened her. She needed space, time to think.
A part of her felt bad for wanting to go back to her parent's house but she told herself that it was wrong to feel like that. If this was how she wanted to cope, she had every right to do so. She didn't have to stay at the Burrow if she didn't want to.
After finishing packing she managed to get down to the kitchen without anybody noticing. Someone in the Burrow was shouting, the noise muffled behind walls. She had no idea where Audrey, Percy or anybody else was.
She found Ron in the dining room. He was sitting in his father's usual chair, a surly look on his face; his face brightened when he saw her.
"I'm going to my parents," she said to him. "I think I should get out of the way for a while. I need some time alone."
She was introverted by nature. Unlike others she had to have alone time, time to think, read and enjoy herself without anybody there.
Ron looked upset and frustrated. His smile disappeared. "Why?" he demanded.
She sighed. "I've already told you. I want some time alone. All this news about the Auror, Draco..."
"Are you mad at me?"
She rolled her eyes. "No, but I wish you wouldn't fight my battles for me."
He looked irritated at this answer. "I wasn't. I was only trying to stick up for you."
"Fine...OK." She fidgeted with her bag and he continued to stare at her, expectantly. "I'll hopefully be gone a day or so. I'll owl you when I get home."
"Right."
She stared at him. He was clearly angry; he'd folded his arms and was pursing his lips. He looked like a sullen child who'd been told to go and clean his room. He didn't get up to say goodbye or give her a kiss; he just sat there. She wasn't sure whether to just leave or try and reason with him. Was there any point in talking to him?
"Why aren't you staying?" he blurted out. "Why are you leaving now, after all the stuff Audrey told us?"
"Because I want to!" she cried. "Because I'm worried and scared and anxious and I'd like to see my parents."
"Why can't we work through this together? I'm worried as well. I've just had a bloody fight with Harry and I think we should have a chat."
"About what? Malfoy? I don't want to talk about it. That's why I'm leaving. I don't want another cross examination."
"I told Harry he was out of line. I stood up for you."
"And I appreciate that but I still want to leave."
"I won't ask about Malfoy. Can we just, I don't know, talk about what's happened?"
Because I can't, she thought. I can't even process what's going on in my own head and I need time.
He frowned at the expression on her face. "We've talked about this," he said. "You can't keep shutting me out Hermione..."
"Why do I have to let you in?" she snapped, unable to hold back her anger now.
Ron looked as though he wanted to shout something but was holding back. There was a stillness to his body now, like he was restraining himself.
"Hermione I just want to help."
"I know that but I need some time alone, Ron. I'm overwhelmed."
"This isn't how this is supposed to work!"
"Yes it is! I set my boundaries and you respect them!"
"I do!"
"No you don't!"
"Well go then!" Ron hurled at her. "Leave! Go deal."
"Fine."
"Fine."
She turned on her heel and left.
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When Percy got back to the office that afternoon he wasn't surprised to find it busy. The press officers looked harassed, running around the office yelling at one another. The Deputy Chiefs of Staff were having meetings in a corner of the room and one of the interns was shouting that they'd ran out of coffee.
He settled himself at his desk and began to work on a number of papers and reports. He groaned out loud when he saw the number of owls sitting on the edge of his desk that he had to respond to: 'Please confirm Minister's position on drug offences draft'; 'Would Minister be agreeable to a meeting regarding Auror security at Azkaban?'
For the next hour or so Percy did his best to try and get as much work done as possible. He was going to have to stay late, which didn't bother him, but would have liked to have an early night. He started making plans to get pizza sent up to the office and he wondered if anybody else was staying late too.
It was hard to concentrate on work. All Percy could think about was Muldover, Harry, Ron, Hermione...
To rest of the office Percy looked like his usual studious, work mad self; diligently working away on his caseload. On the inside, Percy felt like a small alarm was ringing in his head; it was like having tinnitus. Everytime he put his mind to his work it drifted away to something else.
Percy was terrified to his core; his worst nightmare coming true in the worst way possible. He was so scared, anxious and nervous to the point that his body seemed gripped with a cold, calmness. His head was clear, clearer than it had been all day, but he couldn't think of anything else apart from Muldover and the Malfoys.
At half four the door to Kingsley's office opened and Kingsley himself beckoned Percy into the office. Percy thought nothing of the gesture until he walked into the room and found himself face to face with a number of Aurors and an Advocate, Amanda Lyman.
"Percy, this is Senior Auror Davidson, Senior Auror Syed and Amanda Lyman. I'm sure you remember Amanda from Draco's bail hearing."
They stared at him: A tall, bald white man; a middle aged woman wearing a hijab and the Advocate from Draco Malfoy's bail hearing.
For a moment Percy felt like all his breath had escaped him. The Aurors and Ms Lyman were all staring at him, their expressions impassive. For a mad second he felt like running for it.
"Perce, I'd like you to meet everyone." Kingsley addressed the three others, "Percy is one of only two people my office who knows about the situation."
"Nice to meet you."
"Hi Percy."
"Good to know."
They spoke to him pleasantly, smiling at him in a benign uninterested sort of way. The knowledge that he wasn't being marched in for an interrogation made Percy so relieved that he felt dizzy.
"Is everything, um, OK?" asked Percy.
"Yes, yes," said Kingsley, waving a hand. "We're just finishing up a meeting. I just wanted you to meet some more key players. I may need you to do a few errands for me Weasley and I need these guys to know that you've got clearance."
Percy nodded dumbly. He felt hot, his shirt clinging to his underarms.
The meeting appeared to have finished and everybody got to their feet. There was an exchange of handshakes between Auror Davidson, Ms Lyman and Kingsley and one by one the two Auror's walked past Percy, nodding at him. When Amanda Lyman came to walk past she stopped. She looked just as stern as she had during the bail hearing. Her hair hung lose around her face but her eyes were sharp and serious. She had a bright, youthful face with premature lines around her eyes. Percy noticed that there were remnants of a scar across her neck and cheek. He remembered that she'd previously been an Auror and wondered what she'd done to get such marks.
Amanda considered him for a moment before sticking out her hand. "Very nice to meet you Mr Weasley. I hope your family is well."
Percy gripped her hand. He hoped she wouldn't read too much into his sweaty palm.
"They're very well thank you," he said.
"You're Kingsley's assistant then?"
Percy was about to answer when Kingsley himself stepped forward. "Percy's one of my many minions Amanda," he said, chuckling. "I know you won't believe it because of my age Weasley but I actually trained Amanda when she was a trainee Auror."
"You're not that old King," said Amanda. For the first time her demeanor cracked, a small smile crossing her face. Her eyes, Percy noticed, remained devoid of any emotion.
"It's nice to meet you," said Percy. "I was very impressed with how you handled Mr Malfoy's lawyer during the hearing the other day."
Amanda nodded at him, looking unconcerned by his praise. "I'm helping with the investigation into Mr Muldover's disappearance. I hear from Kingsley that you're doing a report into the holding cells."
He tried to look calm. "Yes, it's a very interesting report," he said. "We're going to do a provisional look at how the system is working."
Amanda looked at him right in the eye. "I see from the prison records that you and Ms Sheppard were in the holding cells on Muldover's last day in work before he went missing."
Percy blinked. His mouth went dry. "Yes," he said, very quickly. "That's right I suppose. We spoke to him briefly when we were signed in. I'm horrified by recent events and-."
"You didn't see anything?" She cut him off mid sentence. Amanda's voice was brisk and pointed. Her eyes didn't leave his face.
Percy counted to ten in his head. He had to remain calm.
"No," he said, his voice light and airy. "There's nothing that I can think of."
His mind drifted to one section of the Reform Bill, a bill he'd helped draft: a crime of up to ten years shall be punishable on indictment for lying to a Auror.
"What exactly was going on that day?" said Amanda, sharply. "Did you notice anything suspicious?"
Percy opened his mouth, fully prepared to bullshit his way out of this when Kingsley chuckled and said, "Come on Amanda. If you need to talk to Percy you should schedule a meeting. Give him some time to think about it."
Amanda's expression cleared. She looked away from Percy, unconcerned with him now. "I don't know if that'll be necessary," she said to Kingsley. "There were a few people down in the cells that day along with Ms Sheppard and Mr Weasley. We haven't bothered looking anyone up because it's all Advocates and officials, but I just thought I'd ask."
Percy swallowed something in the back of his throat and said, "Well, if there's anything I can do to help Ms Lyman I would be more than happy to."
How convincing you sound, said a voice in his head, how trustworthy.
"Thank you," said Amanda, her voice light. "I'm not sure it'll be necessary but I'll keep it in mind."
She left the room, nodding at Percy as she left. Kingsley followed, walking Amanda towards the elevator.
When he was sure they were gone, Percy stood behind the door of Kingsley's office and out of sight. He took deep, gasping breaths and tried to calm himself down. He was shaking all over.
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Malfoy Manor
Macnair smiled. His eyes sparkled as he watched the Manor light up in flames. The fire glowed against the night sky, spiraling upwards towards the stars.
Burning the Manor hadn't been as easy as Macnair had hoped. It seemed that parts of the Manor had been protected with spells that stopped fire damage. Nothing he did could reverse the spells in place and no spell he cast made the rooms go up in flames. It had taken a few hours but he'd eventually found out that while parts of the inside of the house were protected from fire, the outside of the house was not. The outside of the house had gone up as soon he'd cast the spell, the brick and wood crumbling and crackling as the flames engulfed the house.
There was something satisfying about seeing Malfoy Manor go up in flames. He's always been jealous of Lucius and his estate. The house, grand, large and opulent had always made Macnair squirm with anger. To be a Malfoy was to be wizarding royalty. The Malfoys were above the sacred twenty eight, above blood purity. Lucius and Draco had always had the insufferable confidence of knowing that they were better than everybody else. There was a hierarchy amongst pure bloods and if the Weasleys were the bottom the Malfoys were at the top.
He grinned as one of the windows exploded from the heat, the glass shattering all over the ground. The perfect thing about burning down Malfoy Manor was that nobody would know who it was. The culprit could be anyone. The Malfoys were hated by everyone. The Ministry would never guess that the culprit was one of the Malfoy's former Death Eater colleagues.
She would know, thought Macnair. The bitch Narcissa Malfoy would hear about the Manor and realise that her time was up; Macnair would make sure of it.
Macnair grinned at the Manor before turning and apparating.
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Hope you enjoy!
A/N With regard to Malfoy Manor, I've borrowed from the book and the movie in this chapter. I thought the scene where Bellatrix carves the word 'mudblood' into Hermione's arm was very effective, so I've included it in this fic.
As for the scene where Draco 'almost' intervenes in Hermione's torture...this is me playing around with the source material and is purely of my own imagining. This fic is about topics like justice, forgiveness etc and I thought the interaction between Bellatrix and Draco would add an interesting dynamic to the don't see what happens with Bellatrix and Hermione in book and we see some of it in the movie. I was inspired by two scenes in the book: the scene where Voldemort kills the muggle studies teacher and where Harry has a vision of Draco torturing other Death Eaters and looking terrified. In both cases Draco looked pretty upset and unhappy with what was going on. I've often wondered what Draco's reaction was to Hermione's torture and I think that, as much as he hated her, he wouldn't have enjoyed it. Whether Draco would have asked Bellatrix to stop...you can make up your own minds.
This fic is in no way trying to advocate any position on the Malfoy family. I'm just trying to write an interesting story.
With regard to Greyback, he says to Ron in the Malfoy Manor chapter that he might 'get a bite or two' of Hermione. When I read that I saw sexual undertones to his suggestion. I have included some implied suggestions in this chapter because I think that was the case in the book. I do hope I've handled it well.
Chapter Fourteen: Part One and Two should be up at the weekend.