Chapter 26

It felt like the world had crashed in on Hermione, panic intermittently flaring in her mind. Most of the time, she wanted to throw her things in a trunk and simply flee. Actually, the things weren't important. There was nothing here she valued, but she couldn't because she would lose the things she did value. Fleeing would be the weak things to do. No, she had to be strong and face this.

This certainly was a setback, being pregnant to the man who had killed her husband. How could one possibly see that in a good light? She supposed it would be vengeance, having what he wanted most and refusing to give it to him—because she would be refusing. This child would never be a Malfoy.

The most political part of her knew she could use the child to get his protection, but his protection and cooperation was not what she wanted. She wanted justice. She wanted him rubbed into the dirt until he disappeared into nothing. That was perhaps a bit strong, but she wanted some consequences for these actions. She owed Theo that.

The accusation had been laid, but she couldn't be presumptuous. Who knew what that woman's motives were, the one who had accused Malfoy. It could be anything and Hermione was not going to be some pawn in someone else's game. The most clever operators made other people do their dirty work.

Which brought into question how her husband died and what had happened around that time. Was there a way of placing Malfoy in a position where he was culpable. Motive, opportunity and means. Those were the things she had to prove. She wasn't entirely sure what she would do when she proved it, but that was something she could consider when she had. Perhaps it would then be time to seek justice, in whatever form Voldemort metered out—which tended to be both brutal and fatal.

A frisson of discomfort washed through her. Could she watch Malfoy being tortured on the floor, flailing in agony, watch him being murdered while knowing she was the cause, the instigator? She didn't know if she could be so ruthless and callous, even if he had murdered the man she'd loved. It would stay with her for the rest of her days.

Dismissing the uncomfortable though, she turned her attention to the practical. She needed to learn what was going on at the court at that time. What activities were going on, what political maneuvers were in play. A bit of subtlety in her questioning might be advisable, so she didn't immediately give away that she was questioning her husband's death. But she needed some place to start. What she did know was that Malfoy had borrowed some books of Theo.

Grabbing a parchment, she wrote this down, as she intended to do with everything she learned during her inquisition. Information was power and she was going to gather her arsenal. If there was one thing she could do, it was to analyze the situation, get a grip on the picture. Then she could tease out the things she needed—motive, means and opportunity.

Unfortunately none were clear. Malfoy being a complete political animal was simply not enough. There had to be some reason. Perhaps he was making a move on Theo's lands, or more disconcerting, perhaps Theo was making a move on Malfoy lands. It could be that Malfoy was being defensive, although she couldn't see Theo being so aggressive. Then again, he was a member of this court and he had survived here—until he didn't.

After taking lunch in her apartments, Hermione searched through Theo's desk, trying to find evidence of any political overtures, but there was nothing. Either Theo was uninvolved with any, or he was too shrewd to write things down. It could be the latter. The written word was powerful around here and he wouldn't have been silly enough to think his study would be safe. The walls had ears and eyes.

Speaking of, was she safe here? Theo hadn't been. Poison had been introduced somehow and he'd ended up consuming it, or being stuck by it, or however it had been administered. The same fate could await her. Malfoy certainly knew where her apartments were. There had to be some way of making it safe. Could locks be trusted to keep people out? If things got difficult, how would she deal with it?

-0-

Hermione agreed to every invitation send her and went to each tea, lunch, soirée with the intention of finding answers. It turned out there had been some trouble with a courtier named Hennisby, which had ended quite ugly with the man being placed in one of the corpse cages out on the road. Something to do with inappropriately stealing property from Voldemort himself.

Even Hermione would acknowledge the man had been an idiot if he thought he could get away with stealing from the citadel. There had also been a ball on. Not a masquerade, but a ball to celebrate Voldemort's conquest of the realm. A gigantic ice sculpture had been commissioned and had melted all over the floor. There had also been some trouble in the south, some peasant uprising that Hermione had never known about.

More interesting, and also surprising, was that the House of Malfoy and the House of Nott had been in an informal alliance. Malfoy had certainly never mentioned this and it had obviously meant little as one had ended up murdering the other. But it did add gravity to the situation. Malfoy's alliances obviously meant very little.

There was no record of this alliance anywhere, but Lord Wildersmith had confirmed it. He'd also firmly warned her against considering anything of the type now. She assured him she was not. In fact, she was more motivated than ever to make a move on the house of Malfoy, wrench something away from him, even if it resulted in no gain for herself. Vengeance was her motive. Wildersmith appreciated her position, but advised caution.

Whether she believed she would make a move on Malfoy's estates, she wasn't sure of yet. She didn't have enough information to make a determination.

But she did learn of a purchase Malfoy had made around that time, although the details were sketchy. That purchase had to have a paper trail and that trail had to exist somewhere. She summoned one of Voldemort's clerks to her apartments, who looked uncomfortable when he turned up, wearing nondescript brown robes and a less than flattering haircut.

The archived, he had mentioned. All information related to purchases were in the archives. The youth slinked away as soon as he could and she got the feeling he didn't want to be associated or in the view of one of the courtiers. Perhaps she couldn't blame him as they were political and ruthless—pariahs in other words.

So there was an archive and she had made the clerk tell her where it was. Apparently there was a man responsible for it, to which requests could be lodged. Hermione could imagine that process would take months. It would also highlight to Voldemort, or maybe someone else unpleasant, that she was searching for information. Would the information be worth the attention?

After consideration, she couldn't think of a way around it. She needed the information in the archives—but she could do without the scrutiny. In fact, she needed to act with complete discretion. Voldemort, with his whims and preferences, couldn't be trusted. Could she risk breaking into the archives? She wasn't going to steal anything, like that Hennisby man, but she wasn't sure Voldemort would see a distinction.

It was an awful risk. Would Theo tell her not to? Would he rather let his murder go? Hermione wasn't entirely sure she could live with that, particularly as she was carrying that particular murderer's seed in her belly.

No, she had to do it. Pleading ignorance if she was caught might not save her, but it was a defense. How could she look her son in the eyes and tell him she did nothing when confronted with the man who had murdered his father.

After dinner that night, well past midnight, she would try to see if she could get into the archives. She made the determination before she thought too hard about it and working her concern up too high to go through with it. It was just something she was going to do without considering every reason why it was a bad idea. There were gaps in the information she had that only a trip to the archives could answer.

-0-

Hermione had considered wearing dark and free moving clothes, but decided it would look too guilty if she were caught. Instead, she kept her evening gown and stood around the corner, watching the guard to the archives door. He looked tired and bored. Surely at some point, he had to walk, or do something, go to the toilet, eat, anything.

If she had her wand, this would be a simple affair, but being caught with a wand would mean death. Her wand had been destroyed long ago, along with everyone else's. Particularly at court, Voldemort didn't like people having the ability to utilize magic against him. Only a few, like Mr. Lovegood were kept on, probably all feeble like him, too—no one too ambitious or sharp, who might get ideas of their own. Mr. Lovegood cowered under Voldemort's bullying.

If she had a dart with some tranquilizing medium right now, she could be in there already. It sounded nefarious, but it would be effective. Unfortunately, she had nothing of the type. She could potentially set fire to something. That would distract the guard, and potentially burn the whole citadel. She gloried in the vision of the whole macabre structure burning to the ground. Voldemort would make her death so painful she would beg for it if she did something like that.

Fire wasn't necessary, she decided.

Stepping around the corner, she appeared into view. "Young man," she said, although he was probably older than her. "I smell smoke."

The man didn't know what to do. He seemed hesitant.

"Should there be smoke in this part of the castle? I hope there isn't a fire anywhere. Is this structure designed to twart a fire? I hope we don't all burn in our sleep." She knew damn well fire concerns were not a top priority for someone like Voldemort. If this place burned, it would burn like tinder in many places.

"I will go see," he finally said, conceding that seeking a fire was probably more important that guarding stacks of paper. He ran past her, leaving the door clear.

She only had so long before he would return and she quickly snuck through the door. It was black inside, but she saw a lantern on a desk. Stacks of paper were jumbled everywhere, not looking much different from Mr. Lovegood's messy apartment. There was a musty smell and narrow corridors of stacked paper leading down into darkness. How in the world was she going to find anything in here? It would take ages. Whoever this man was in charge of the archives, he didn't have a very good system.

It took some time, but she did find a system after all. The citadel papers were in the front. Kitchen accounts, building accounts etc. The military records pertaining to the liege's army beyond that. Toward the very back of the archives were boxes for the courtiers. Fortunately, they were clearly labelled.

Hermione didn't know where to start. Searching, she found the box belonging to the Nott household. In there, were stacks of papers. There were observations made by someone, keeping track of the things related to the house and Theo's movements to and away from the citadel. There was also a list of the properties and assets belonging to the Nott estate. It wasn't overly detailed, just main observations. There was also a mention of the alliance between the Notts and the Malfoys, pertaining more to a non-aggression treatise, it had said. That obviously didn't stick, she though bitterly. Her more recent alliance with Wildersmith was also recorded. She was being tracked just like Theo had been. Fortunately, no mention of a pregnancy. They didn't know that, it seemed.

There was also a page on his death, suspecting poison. It didn't state who the observer thought was responsible, only that it was unexpected. That must mean that it wasn't on Voldemort's orders.

There was nothing else useful. Putting everything back, she sought the Malfoy box. She wanted to spend more time with this one, but she didn't have time. The guard would be back soon and she would have a hard time explaining why she was coming out of the archives. Focusing, she found the document which tracked Malfoy's movements, to see if there was anything recorded for the time Theo had been attacked.

The answer shocked her. It said Malfoy had been south, dealing with the peasant uprising. What? That couldn't be right. Malfoy wasn't there. He had left a full two weeks before Theo was murdered. Astounded, Hermione sat back on her haunches. He wasn't the murderer. Someone else was.