Ring A Ring O' Roses

by Gallivant

Hermione has it all: a loving family, successful career, even happiness (of sorts). But when Draco Malfoy warns of a devastating threat to the Wizarding World, a series of unexpected events turns her life upside-down... If working with Draco to destroy a deadly weapon was the last thing she ever wanted, falling for her enemy was the least expected, with far-reaching consequences..

57. And Recks Not His Own Rede

Cutting deals, trading blows and murder; Hermione to the Dark Tower Came …

57. And Recks Not His Own Rede

'What a fucking beautiful start to the day,' Draco groaned, his mouth on Hermione's.

His body was hot and wet against hers and he was still trembling. The shower water bounced off his hair and shoulders in curling loops of light.

'You look… glazed,' Hermione sighed, pulsing blissfully and shivering a little at the sound of the water pounding down onto them.

'If I move, I think my legs might give way…'

'Then don't move,' she murmured, caressing the nape of his neck and kissing his face and throat… she licked the shower water from his lips, wondering what she'd done to deserve this beautiful man…

'You always brush your teeth before breakfast,' Hermione said, watching Draco squeeze a neat line of toothpaste onto his toothbrush once the shower had run cold forcing them to leave. 'My parents say it should be after…' She draped a towel over her hair and another over her shoulders to stem the drip of cooling water onto her body.

'What about all the germs that collect in your mouth overnight? You're feeding them your breakfast and then swallowing them.'

Hermione grinned. 'Well, I guess you deserve to brush your teeth after where your mouth's been this morning.'

He smiled at her in the mirror, his eyes sparkling. 'Could say the same for you, beautiful…' And he passed her a toothbrush.

They could hear voices and doors slamming, a burst of laughter...

'Niko… Wants to talk about these charms,' Draco said, 'says there's something funny about them.'

Hugo was squealing down the stairs… 'He's taken a shine to Niko,' Hermione smiled. It had been Hugo's turn to come into their bedroom last night looking for Captain Magic. In the end they'd found it tucked up with Magda.

She'd begun to think the kids were taking turns…

Clearly Draco was thinking the same thing, adding: 'How come the kids are just breezing through our lets-pretend-we're-not-sleeping-together wards? They're either walking fucking prodigies or we're really duff at magic.'

XXX

Parvati was despairing. 'She says no to toast, eggs, cereal or porridge…'

Magda was staring at Nico's luxuriant ginger beard with gobstopper eyes and giggling when he made funny faces.

'Oh, and Neville wants you to come to The Blue House to talk campaigns. I'm taking Scorpius and Rose if you want to hitch a ride.'

'Can't. Shell Cottage. Potions…' Hermione said crisply.

Draco looked uneasy. 'Not today. Bit busy.'

'He was very insistent.'

'Tough.'

Parvati gave him a knowing smile. 'They've put her in the attic… It's not like she's on display or anything!'

'Should bloody well hope not!' Draco said aghast.

Henrik was hunched on the sofa looking grumpy.

'What's up with HIM?' Hermione whispered to Draco in the kitchen as they made coffee.

'You're kidding right?' Draco lowered his voice. 'He doesn't like Niko.'

'But he's lovely!'

'He thinks he's hitting on Parvati.'

'And?'

Draco looked at her, dumbfounded. 'Are you telling me I've noticed something you haven't?' He looked far too excited about this... 'Henrik's got a big thing for her.'

'No, he hasn't… he likes Gwen.'

'Maybe he DID … not now.'

Hermione nabbed milk from the fridge mulling this… 'Is it mutual?'

'Bloody hope so, boy's bitten bad.'

'Has he said anything?'

'No… it's just THERE. Right in front of our eyes.'

After that, Hermione could hardly concentrate on Niko's complicated explanation about the various tests he'd run on the rose-charms because her eyes kept moving between Henrik and Parvati… they were very close. That much was obvious…

And yes, Draco was right. Every time Niko cracked a joke and caught Parvati's attention Henrik was quietly fuming. How had she not noticed? Henrik didn't just fancy her, he adored her and was desperately pretending otherwise.

'Pretty,' Rose said, running a handful of roses through her fingers.

Draco took hold of her hand. 'No, Rose... These aren't to be touched I'm afraid.'

'They feel funny,' she sniffed.

Niko eyed her curiously. 'What do you mean?'

'You know when things jump and move sideways and then right themselves again?'

Niko continued to give her a penetrating stare. 'I do, Rose. What did you see?'

Rose wrinkled her nose. 'Dunno... like a wall of tears…'

'Do you see other things?' Niko asked gently.

'Sometimes. People, mainly.' She looked at Draco, a huge grin plastered on her face. 'You're all shiny.'

Draco still held her hand in his own. 'Is that a good thing?' he asked in worried tones.

She nodded enthusiastically. 'Very.'

Hermione could see Draco's whiteness swirling with emotion. And relief.

'Your daughter has La Luz,' Niko said the moment Rose moved away.

'I know…' Hermione murmured, remembering her encounter with Ephraim.

'Sounds like she has what YOU have,' Draco said. 'Associating people with colours.'

'More than that!' Niko scoffed. 'She's a fucking seer.'

Hermione pinched her lips tightly together. 'There's no such thing.'

Niko gave her a curious look and then scooped the roses with a piece of paper into the centre of the table. 'Let's talk about these… They're bonded with something. A very powerful spell.'

'Well, yes… they're a traditional communication device from an ancient wizarding community…' Hermione began, but Niko abruptly shook his head.

'But there's another spell layered on top.' His small, blue eyes drilled into Hermione as he spoke. 'Whoever wears this necklace is bonded in perpetuity with the caster.'

'A love charm,' Parvati said airily. 'That's not so shocking, Niko!'

'Oh it is! Because if the person refuses to be bonded – they die.'

'Fucking madwoman in the attic…' Draco groused as Hermione left for Shell Cottage with Hugo and Magda in tow. Hugo had allowed Magda to 'borrow' Captain Magic but was accompanying her in a supervisory capacity. Hermione rather suspected he enjoyed playing with her more than he wanted to admit.

XXX

'Fleur's with Melissa… she won't be a minute,' Bill explained, propping up a painting on the desk in his study. Harry, Bill and Kai had ventured during the night to Foret-la-Folie and swiped the painting from the bakery.

It was pleasantly sunny outside but the sea below was wild and thrashing due to a stiff breeze.

Gabrielle skipped past with Magda and Hugo. They were heading for Hermione's field of purple flowers on the cliff-top. Magda was effervescent with joy clutching 'Houblon' – her cuddly bunny that she'd left at Shell Cottage when they first arrived from France. Her wavy brown hair bounced in the wind.

Fleur was stowed inside Melissa's flower-strewn shelter, drinking a cup of tea and chatting. She stopped the moment Hermione's shadow fell across the entrance.

'Sorry, I didn't meant to disturb you.'

Fleur blushed. 'I come here most mornings… tell her what's going on.'

'That's nice.' Hermione braved a glance... Melissa seemed so peaceful; almost a hint of a smile on her lips.

She hazarded a glancing touch of her hand. It always surprised – and pleased her - that she stayed warm. One day she feared her skin would be cold - before she'd worked out how to bring her back.

XXX

The French painting made Hermione nervous. ANYONE could come through at any time. A rudimentary sackcloth-covering didn't feel adequate…

'Pop inside and check it out if it's worrying you,' Bill said. 'But really all we need is a sample of the paintwork and I'll secure it in the old tin mine. If anyone dared venture through there, they'd be trapped! I've made sure of it.'

Ernie did the honours and a sample was soon at their disposal.

'I've already done some research,' Fleur enthused. 'I found an old grimoire that shows how Stypticus Solution's made.'

'That's the bonding agent in the paint, isn't it?' Ernie asked.

'Yes,' Hermione said. 'Makes the painting magical. But not all magical paintings can be moved through so we need to analyse this sample to see what's different.'

'Once we know that, what's the plan?' Ernie said.

'Well… I've got a theory that there's some kind of spell or alteration to the usual recipe for Stypticus Solution that enables a constant backlight within the painting,' Hermione said. 'You see, colour-magic only works with light… so there has to be a SOURCE of light. And seeing as we can move through paintings at any time, logically, this means the source of light comes from the paintings themselves.'

'So you want to make a painting that BLOCKS light.'

'Pretty much. We have to lure Salvedra into a painting and then switch that light-source off once he enters. If we then bind him inside using colour-magic, I'm thinking mirrors, all light will be blocked - and hopefully he'll be too weak to escape... We'd then destroy the painting.'

'So we make a new painting or refurb an existing painting with a new solution that can change opacity… what would trigger the change?' Ernie asked.

'Movement?' Fleur suggested.

'Possibly…' Hermione mused. 'It has to be Salvedra in his physical form, that's for sure.' She thought of Melissa's hands… 'Maybe warmth?'

Ernie nodded to Fleur. 'We can do this.'

'What if we mix in gold or silver that is then triggered by heat into a surface shield?' Fleur said.

'Or graphite? That's opaque…' Ernie said.

Hermione smiled to herself. They were going to be just fine…

XXX

'Both Milton and Igor have confirmed what I thought,' Draco said over lunch. 'Ephraim's moving stuff out of Malfoy Manor.'

'Oh…' Hermione said. 'That's a good thing, isn't it?'

'In terms of its structural longevity? Perhaps… I've asked Tim not to deal a death-blow to the old place just yet.'

'Well, that explains why Katya's painting was shifted to this farm,' Hermione said pensively. 'If that's his new HQ we should target there instead… Does this mean he knew what the Muggles were planning?'

'That American guy, Decimus Clemans… probably tipped him off.'

Kai swung through the kitchen door and froze a little finding herself alone with them.

'Ahh… Hi… Sorry…'

'We're just having lunch, Kai,' Hermione said with a broad smile, hoping to put the girl at ease. 'Fleur made soup this morning. Would you like some?'

Kai's normally pale features glowed bright pink. 'I – is Bill here?'

'The old mine,' Draco said in staccato tones. He was engrossed in Agatha's latest issue of Sub Rosa.

'How's Binta?' Hermione asked Kai, ladling a spoonful of soup into a bowl for her.

'Sleeping.'

'Well. She must be very tired,' Hermione said, tearing off a hunk of bread.

'Thank you,' Kai said politely accepting it. 'Arthur took your kids home. Scorpius was crying.'

Draco looked up and Kai noticeably flinched at Draco's sudden attention.

'Did he say why?'

XXX

The chimneys of The Burrow peeking over the trees looked stumpy and forlorn as Hermione and Draco walked across the field.

As they rounded the hedges into the driveway they could hear squeals of laughter.

Both Scorpius and Rose were sitting inside a pewter vintage car, its hood down, while Rose pretended to drive an outsized steering-wheel and Scorpius made loud vroomy noises. Arthur was busily buffing the car's gleaming bodywork with a chamois cloth.

Draco approached, mouth hanging open, and gazed at the car with a look that Hermione had rather hoped was only reserved for their most intimate moments.

'THAT is a thing of beauty,' he groaned, almost falling to his knees in rapture.

Arthur stopped polishing and burst out laughing. He was wearing a jaunty cap, set askew, and had the look of a proud father presenting his baby.

'It's a Jaguar E-Type S1 Coupé,' Draco said in reverent tones to Hermione.

'1961,' Arthur said proudly.

'When did you get this?' Hermione asked.

'Oh, about twelve years ago,' Arthur said. He shuffled uneasily, even guiltily. 'It was a wreck. Been locked up in the shed.'

Draco was being given an over-excited guided tour of the car by the kids who were speaking over each other in their eagerness to point out the plush red leather seats and the shiny chrome.

Arthur reached into the car, switched on the ignition and then hunted through the radio channels eventually hitting something he liked… The dulcet tones of Louis Armstrong rolled around them and for a brief moment it felt like they were bathed in a sunny balm.

Draco's eyes lifted to the wreck of The Burrow.

'We'll get started on this place, Arthur… as soon as everything's calmed down.'

'Oh, I've done a few bits and pieces…'

Draco shook his head. 'I was terrified coming here that day… and not for the reason you think. When I was growing up this was the home of the enemy…' He raised his eyebrows ironically as he spoke. 'Seems surreal now.'

'Well, Malfoy Manor was the same for me,' Hermione said. It still was… deep down.

'Except, that was true … Particularly for you, Hermione.' Draco looked at her with such tender feeling if they'd been alone Hermione would have hugged him close.

'What happened that made you want to leave The Blue House so early,' Draco asked his son.

Scorpius shrugged and looked down.

'Scorpius got lost and something feels different,' Rose said succinctly.

Scorpius looked at his father and shrugged again.

'How about you, Rose?'

And now she was shrugging, too.

He wasn't getting an answer. Not today at any rate…

XXX

Hermione determined to talk to Scorpius at the first viable opportunity. Her chance came the following evening at The Blue House.

Dennis's campaign team had convened a meeting to discuss strategies to take advantage of Ephraim's rally in Hogsmeade this coming Sunday.

They planned to hijack the event with a street party and Neville wanted to designate everyone a role. Hermione envied Harry for being absent.

'Can I come?' Gwen asked, looking excited. 'I'd love to see this Hogsmeade you're always going on about.'

'I don't see why not?' Briek said. 'It'll be like a campaign carnival.'

'Jolly fucking japes,' Draco said sarcastically under his breath. He was constantly checking his watch. 'Got a message from Hassan… He wants me to contact him.'

'Is Salvedra still at Akhr Makan?'

'He thinks so. Would be good to find out for sure rather than sit through this shit.'

Hermione was worrying more about Scorpius… He'd been reluctant to come here tonight; much like his father, who was now conducting all business at Folkvangr and Shell Cottage.

'I'll go round up the kids,' she whispered in Draco's ear.

The children were hemmed into the top floor but there was no sign of Scorpius.

Hermione's eyes drifted to the narrow wooden staircase leading to the attic…

She inched through the narrow door into the attic and bent down to avoid head-butting the rafters. She could sense Katya's painting – propped up against the wall to her left - facing a mouldy couch with half the stuffing bursting from its decaying seams.

Scorpius was sat bolt upright, eyes fixed on the painting.

'The sad woman's here,' he said.

He shuffled in such a way that she knew he expected her to sit down. He leant against her and she wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

'Do you remember when we looked at this painting before, Scorpius?' she asked. There'd been this same sense of brooding melancholia. That's when she'd felt the 'pinkness' she'd always known in her heart was Katya. She could feel it now…

'I wanted you to come back. Every day, I wished it—'

She gently squeezed his shoulder. 'Well, I did… of sorts.'

She could feel him smiling. 'Why do you like looking at this painting?' she whispered. 'Does it make you happy?'

He shrugged. 'It did. Sort of. In a sad way… but not now.'

'Can you see her?'

He nodded.

'Is she looking at us?'

He nodded again and Hermione felt a stab of cold alarm. But she couldn't show it. At least Katya couldn't HEAR them. Although Katya had no idea who she was of course…

'Do you know who she is?'

'I think so.' He wriggled uncomfortably. 'You – you won't make me go back, will you? I like it with you and Daddy. And Rose and Hugo… Even, Magda.'

'No, Scorpius, you aren't going back.' She smiled down at him and he gazed back, eyes wide and blue. 'Do – do you remember anything about… the other place?'

'Bits.' His cheek twitched. Damn… He did. But he'd learned to hide his feelings. To compartmentalise.

A cold, plunging sensation descended into the pits of her stomach. She hated that he had to remember anything that had hurt him, ever.

'I'll get used to Magda, I promise,' he said. 'She's just a bit annoying.'

Hermione's face cracked into a big grin. 'She's very young.'

Scorpius sighed in agreement. 'Hugo thinks she's funny.'

'Well… she is a bit,' Hermione said, considering this. There was something about her comical snub of a nose and the way she was so very, very certain about herself and what she wanted that couldn't help but amuse. Young Madam, indeed…

Scorpius smiled and he tucked himself in closer.

Hermione's eyes flicked to the painting. 'How can you see her when she's inside the tower?'

'She looks out the window.' Scorpius paused and sat up straight. He squinted at the painting.

'Is somebody else there?' Hermione said, unable to extinguish the note of alarm that had crept into her voice.

'No. Just her face; it's all different…'

'In what way?'

He clutched Hermione's hand tightly. 'Can we go now?'

XXX

Draco's eyes were bullet-hard with frustration when she eventually came downstairs with Scorpius.

'We've held the Portkey for you,' he griped. She could sense his anxiety. He knew where they'd been.

Everyone was ready to roll when Neville slipped into the hallway… 'I need a quick word.'

Hermione turned an apologetic face to Draco who ushered the kids outside.

'I've heard from Ephraim again,' Neville said under his breath.

'Really?' Hermione ground her teeth. Did he ever give up?

'This is serious. He knows you've got Katya… He wants to talk with you.'

Hermione thought about this. The consequences. 'Like… negotiate?'

'Maybe? After all, you have something he wants.' His face was dark and serious. 'He wants to see you alone,' he added, dropping his voice so low he was almost hoarse with the effort.

'I'd want someone with me.' Preferably, Draco.

'I can try.'

Draco came back in. 'Are you coming or what? Hugo's half-asleep on his feet, poor kid.'

XXX

'Fucking disaster,' Harry grouched. He was lying on the couch at Folkvangr with a glass of red wine dangling precariously from his hand over the cream carpet.

'At least you and Gunter got out of last night's bloody party planning,' Draco said. 'Dunno know why we ALL had to go. Total waste of time.'

'You were all pumped up and positive the other day,' Henrik laughed. Hermione looked at him and blinked… Had he SHAVED?

'Yeah, but Ruddy Krenzel breaking out of Auror HQ isn't exactly the excuse I'd have wanted to get out of it, unfortunately,' Harry grumbled. 'I'd rather listen to Dennis's stump speech on a loop than suffer the shit I got last night.'

'It had to be Sylvestra,' Hermione said. 'But why go to such trouble for RUDDY KRENZEL? I doubt it's easy breaking into Auror HQ…'

'She more seduced her way in,' Harry said… 'if it was her, that is. Tall and beautiful, they said. Brunette.'

'Her hair wouldn't be real, Harry… Draco burnt it off.'

'I honestly can't remember her ever speaking two words to him,' Draco muttered, nonplussed. 'But our problem is he knows A LOT about us.' He poured himself another glass of wine, emptying the bottle. 'Bugger! He knows about Ron! He'll have to rein in… shame, because he's been feeding me great intel.'

'Has he?' Hermione hadn't noticed any communication between them.

'Full list of Blasters and Aurors to worry about.' Draco sighed. 'It's a long list.'

'Shall I open another?' Parvati said, already tripping into the living room with a fresh bottle in hand.

The French doors slid open and Neville walked in. 'Great timing!' he said as Parvati poured him a glass of wine.

Draco put his hand up to stop him. 'Don't even think about it, Longbottom! You need a clear head!'

Neville's face puckered and he reluctantly pushed the brimming glass away. 'Our great and glorious leader has spoken, Parvati… deliver me not into temptation.'

Draco eyed him with peevish coldness. 'You're Hermione's chief bodyguard in this fucking nonsense you've cooked up with Ephraim. Harry and I have to lurk… like useless fucking lurking things…' Hermione had to smile. He'd already had a few glasses of wine himself. 'Which is wank, because you can bet Ephraim will have a full-scale fucking army as back-up.'

'He's bringing Karl,' Hermione pointed out.

'And you've got Neville Longbottom.'

Hermione blushed with embarrassment. 'He forgets you trained as an Auror,' she said to Neville.

'No I haven't,' Draco said snippily. 'But I'm not too chuffed with him right now and he knows it. Setting up a little chit-chat like this is a fucking game! We'd be better off sticking a wand in Ephraim's guts and having done with it.'

'Doubt that would go well for Narcissa…she's a hostage to fortune in all of this,' Neville said sardonically. 'I happen to like your mother.' He nodded to Hermione. 'We going then?"

'Got ten minutes,' Harry said lazily. 'This fucking carnival crap, Draco. Do we try and steal her?'

'I've thought about it,' Draco sighed. 'But there'll be eyes on her all the bloody time.'

'I think we just go for it,' Harry said gulping back his wine and wiping his mouth with his hand. 'We might not get another chance.'

XXX

Hermione and Neville entered the park from the 'Wisteria Cottage' end of Ottery St Catchpole; opposite to Folkvangr.

The sky was sprinkled with stars and away from the streetlights the park at Ottery St Catchpole was a rapidly darkening expanse.

'He's over there,' Neville said. 'I'll wait here. Any problems, light a bluebell flame.'

Hermione could feel Ephraim's eyes burning into her as she walked towards him.

He jumped up from the park bench as she approached and for a ghastly moment she feared he might try and kiss her in greeting. She quickly swerved and sat down on the bench.

He grinned at her, his teeth glinting white out of the gloom.

'Lovely to see you, Hermione,' he said, sinking onto the bench beside her. 'Where've you got your boys hidden?' She gave him a cursory glance and looked away. 'Come on, now. There's no way either would let you out of their sight.'

'Where are YOUR people?' she retorted.

'Just Karl. Fifty metres from Neville.'

'What do you want?'

She could feel him staring at her so she looked fixedly ahead at the small children's playground. The swings swayed nonchalantly in the breeze and the peeling paint on the roundabout gleamed in the faint moonlight.

'To talk to you.'

'I realise that! I wouldn't be here, otherwise, would I?' she said irritably.

'As a parent…'

'We always talk as parents,' Hermione said in scoffing tones. 'We ARE parents. The amount of times you've made veiled threats against my children testifies to that.'

Ephraim's eyes glowed a peculiar luminous blue in the dark.

'Please, Hermione… Can we just have one conversation that's real? No coy pretence. We already know that we both know everything – although I'll admit I don't know where you are at the moment – but I still have a fairly clear understanding of what you have planned for me - the battle we're engaged in.'

Hermione could sense him pulsing with anxiety and anger but there was a weightiness to him that she couldn't ignore.

'And afterwards you can go back to wanting to kill me or imprison me or whatever jumped-up plot you and your little friends have in store… and I'll continue being the monster you think me…'

'You don't have to be…' she muttered, turning her head to face him.

'We're too far gone to row back,' he said solemnly, 'and it's because of that, because this is the road we've chosen to travel down, and because we have people on both sides who will stop at nothing to try and destroy what we each stand for, this might be the only moment we have left to at least do one right thing.'

Hermione couldn't stop a rising sense of emotion and hated herself for it.

Better to be honest…

'Ephraim… We're not giving her back.' How could they? Wherever Ephraim holed-up, the Muggles still wanted to attack…

'No, no… Don't say that! Not yet. Not without hearing me out…' he said in beseeching tones, and for a moment he sounded broken. 'I just want my daughter back.'

'I'm sorry, but no.'

'Why not? You don't care about her and her husband certainly doesn't – if indeed he ever did…' He trailed off a moment. 'Might have been a mistake, that, from the off, actually,' he murmured. 'Draco made a calculation… not an entirely stupid one in the circumstances.'

'Well, circumstances change…'

'They certainly do,' Ephraim said, gazing at her with a look that confused her.

'I can't give you Katya. As you well know, that's somebody else's decision,' Hermione said coolly. 'Something you agreed to.

'I had no choice! The alternative was—'

'You always have a choice, Ephraim! This was your CHILD for god's sake! What could be more important? You could have chosen to fight for her, to defy Salvedra and his stupid narcissistic vengeance-driven crap,' Hermione remonstrated forcefully.

Ephraim blinked rapidly and looked down.

'But when presented with choices you always make the wrong call, don't you?' Hermione continued. 'You didn't need to throw your lot in with Salvedra, you CHOSE to - again and again. Even though you don't really want the same thing – your pathetic efforts to dress up your crap as somehow honourable or politically brilliant is proof of that. You're a bloody hypocrite, and a doomed one, because Salvedra will come for you, and you know it…'

Hermione felt a little shaken saying this, but at heart, it was what she truly believed...

'Where's that lifetime sucking up to evil actually got you? The Muggles are sick of your bullshit, you're haemorrhaging money, you've lost everyone you ever loved and you've killed your soul.'

She could sense a rising crest of emotion inside of him, a barbarous, blazing blue that he wasn't even attempting to hide from her.

'Some or even all of that might be true, but PLEASE, Hermione, I'm begging you… Please give me her to me. Her painting…' Ephraim urgently grabbed her hand but she quickly shook him off, revolted. He heaved a sigh and looked away. 'If she's with me at least I'll know she's safe…'

'Just because she's in a pretty painting doesn't make her SAFE!' Hermione said scornfully. 'Have you heard her crying?'

'I don't visit the tower anymore…' Ephraim said mournfully. But then he collected himself and his eyes hardened. 'You're not going to give me the painting, are you?'

'No.'

She could sense his emotions tumbling downwards inside of him, a cascade of deepening blue. 'Can – can you at least promise me that you'll look after it? Make sure it isn't harmed or… worse.'

Hermione sensed an opening here… it was unscrupulous, but… 'Why should I?'

Ephraim stared at her stonily. 'I helped Neville. I released George. I gave you Melissa. Everything you ask for, I give you, Hermione… Have you ever noticed that? You OWE me.'

'You made those problems yourself!'

'I've also promised never to hurt your children—'

'Oh, how very BIG of you!'

And I mean it!' he said, raising his voice. 'I'd protect them if I had to!'

'You didn't protect Scorpius!'

'I wasn't in control of that programme,' he said off-handedly, twisting away from her gaze.

'But you knew about it and paid for it. And—' Her voice quavered with sudden emotion. 'You allowed Scorpius to be tortured in your own home… And there's the other children, too. So many wonderful bloody children! And THEY all have parents, too – just like you and me. And Draco…'

Ephraim gave her a sharp look.

'You're lucky to be alive, you know that?' Hermione sneered. 'He's got the forbearance of a fucking saint! Once he knew the truth, Draco still had to live with you and work with you, day after day, hiding his feelings as he tried to destroy you from the inside…' She surged towards him, raw emotion getting the better of her, until her face was inches from his. 'I'd have torn you and Sylvestra limb from limb! And frankly, Katya deserves no better! She allowed it to happen - to her own stepson.'

'It wasn't Katya's fault.' He looked scared now.

'She did NOTHING to protect him!'

'How could she? She hardly knew what goddamned day of the week it was half the time!' he bellowed.

'She KNEW! And she knew what a monster her Daddy was, too, I've no doubt.'

Ephraim looked winded…

'She can't have done! She wasn't capable…' He stopped short and his breathing deepened, panicked… 'Unless… when she fell pregnant…'

'When she… What?' Hermione asked, urgently. He was scaring her.

Ephraim gave her a pained look. 'You've got to understand, Hermione… She's a damaged person. She's my daughter and I love her very much but she's always had periods when she's – not quite stable...'

'What are you saying? That she's unwell?'

'Completely controllable!' he said hastily.

'CONTROLLABLE?' Hermione thought back to her conversation with Draco in the Tuileries gardens. A bit of a blank… he'd called her. Unknowable… Was it any wonder? He'd never really met her, until the end, when she was plotting and planning and running away…

'I guess it helps that you run a pharmaceutical company with a Medimagic business on the side, doesn't it?'

Ephraim didn't reply.

'Did Draco know about this when he married her?'

Ephraim looked a little sheepish. 'Would it have made a difference?'

Probably not. It was a marriage of convenience. On all sides…

'So, you see, Hermione… she can't be blamed. Not really. Blame me all you like, I gave her a loveless childhood and my wife despised her… but don't seek revenge.'

Hermione looked towards Neville. His silhouette was sharply defined by the light cast by a streetlamp on the roadside. He was stamping his feet impatiently; possibly cold.

She didn't feel cold at all. She could feel Ephraim's broiling emotions and tension like a furnace beside her.

Play your next move, she told herself… Even though using people as bargaining chips didn't come easily.

'I promise to safeguard the painting if you give me something in return.'

Ephraim groaned – but he was half-smiling, too. 'Nothing worse than seeing someone fulfil their potential…'

Go big first, she told herself…

'I want you to stand down your stupid, dangerous Right to Exist crap and your nasty marriage laws – and don't' tell me they weren't YOUR doing! – and then hand yourself over to Harry to be tried by Auror HQ.'

'Well now you just sound naive, Hermione. Wild!'

Hermione stood up and smoothed down her clothes. 'Then we're done here.'

'What do you mean we're DONE?'

'A gesture of mutual goodwill would have been appreciated… that's all.'

'Giving up everything I've worked for all my life is more than a GESTURE; it's total capitulation!'

'So you agree with these new laws? The ones that outlaw me from being with my own children because I'm Muggle-born?'

'No, of course I don't! But there's many who DO. And in politics you have to bring together a coalition of all sorts!'

'Say you'll revoke the New Family Act if you become Minister for Magic. Tell the people of Hogsmeade tomorrow.'

'But I'll lose key support.'

'Lose it… Do what's right… for once.'

Ephraim rolled his eyes and sighed.

'And Narcissa.'

'What of her?

'She's not well. And you don't love her.'

'She's my WIFE,' Ephraim countered.

'I want her to come and stay with us.'

'With you and Draco…' He smiled nastily. 'One big happy family, eh? Well… She's a free agent.'

'Good. We'll look forward to hosting her from tomorrow.'

'She'll be at my campaign event.'

'Tell her to meet us afterwards at Madam Puddifoot's.' It was the first place she could think of…

'Not YOU, Hermione. Too many Blasters … Have someone else meet her.'

'Your concern for my welfare is always touching, Ephraim, but you have no veto over where I go and what I do with my life…'

'Or Draco…' he added quickly.

'Don't pretend you care about him, too!'

'I don't want to! The fact I do is an eternal inconvenience to me,' he said churlishly.

'Dear me, Ephraim… You and your big bleeding heart… how do you cope?' she snapped. She reached out her hand. 'I promise I'll make sure nothing happens to Katya's painting. And I want you to publicly disavow the New Family Act and deliver Narcissa into our care.'

He stood up and took her hand in his. She could now feel his blueness burgeoning. Surging towards her. Up to now he'd been restrained, but his composure was slipping.

'I can't vouch for anything that happens to Katya INSIDE the painting. I want that crystal clear between us,' she said.

'None of us can reach her, Hermione. We have our limits,' he said wearily. She tried to pull her hand away but his firm grasp tightened. 'We should do this more often…'

'Argue in parks?' She remembered their encounter in Golden Square in London. 'I'd rather not.'

'I mean, work things out… together.'

She leant closer and he bent his ear towards her. 'You're a murderer. And you've hurt people I love. You deserve to go to jail… and one day soon, you will.'

XXX

'Oh my god! This place is amazing!' Gwen exclaimed. She was holding Oleg's hand so tightly he was grimacing. 'And everyone's dressed so funny! Sort of fuddy-duddy.'

Of all the days that Gwen could have ventured into Hogsmeade – her first taste of what the real magical world looked like – it was the one time when witches and wizards had rocked up in elaborate, old-fashioned robes and the High Street leading through the village was a sea of traditional pointy hats.

Hogsmeade had always skewed 'conservative', Hermione thought, but today felt like an Historical Re-enactment. After all, a core message in Ephraim's election campaign was the 'preservation of their magical heritage.'

Oddly, the movement's leader was wearing a Muggle suit and tie.

Hermione spotted Ephraim talking with Torquil as they headed towards the park opposite the Post Office. From their vantage point at the junction by Scrivenshaft's, she could see the stage from where Ephraim would address the sizeable crowd waiting for him.

'Wish I'd seen this place before the fire,' Gwen said sorrowfully.

Hogsmeade's thatched roofs had been patched up with wooden bric-a-brac and canvas and the timbers above the shop-fronts were blackened and broken. Ephraim's campaign team had strewn brightly-coloured banners along the High Street and pennants adorned with Ephraim's smiling features rippled in the breeze - but nothing could disguise Hogsmeade's dishevelled state of disrepair. A few shops were open but most were boarded-up. Instead, a line of market stalls choking the main commercial artery threaded through the village.

Hermione could see why Madam Puddifoot had been so annoyed with Ephraim. He was Mayor but not much had been done…

'Right, guys!' Briek declared, rubbing his hands with mischievous glee. 'Ephraim's on stage… I'll strike up the band the moment he starts talking!'

'Everyone got leaflets and badges at the ready?' Tansy Pintucket shouted, jumping up and down like an over-excited leprechaun.

Dennis looked small and pale… Briek was promising a grand finale – some kind of stunt. He looked like he was having second thoughts.

Neville – almost unrecognisable under his heavy disguise - shuffled past and stuffed a wadge of 'Creevey: A Class Act!' flyers into Hermione's hands with an apologetic smile. Hermione ran after him and shoved the leaflets back… 'No, Neville… I'm doing something with Draco and Harry!'

Neville shook his head irritably. 'Why's everyone got a bloody excuse?'

'I actually DO,' she said, lowering her voice. 'We're meeting Narcissa at Madam Puddifoot's.'

'Think I might go and listen to Ephraim,' Agatha said, vanishing her pile of leaflets with a flick of her wand. 'I'll write a stinging review of his speech in Sub Rosa!' She tripped down the road to the surging mass streaming into the park. She'd rather over-done her 'glamour' Hermione thought – fuchsia-pink hair, an excessively pointed nose and a pair of orange floral dungarees. Hardly subtle… Hermione had decided on the less is more approach, taming her trademark wild hair and covering it with an emerald green bandana. She had no intention of mixing with Ephraim and the Blasters anyway.

'Where's Bill got to?' Neville asked Ginny irritably.

'Oh, he's working with Fleur and Ernie on the Big P.' Somehow, this had become code for Project Salvedra…

'And Gunter?'

'Doing stuff with Niko,' Elizaveta drawled. 'Important stuff.'

Neville opened his mouth to reply but the fierce opening chords from Briek on his 'electric' guitar drowned him out…

Hermione could hear Ephraim's voice booming from the park and a chorus of whoops and cheers… followed by a rhythmic chant: 'WE HAVE A RIGHT TO EXIST!' repeated over and over…

'Let battle commence!' Ginny declared.

'I've got a headache,' Gwen said five minutes later. Briek had already drawn quite a crowd, but Ephraim still had the lion's share – although there had been bursts of booing from time to time and a peculiar-sounding drumbeat.

'Pots and pans,' Hannah explained. 'Bunch of shopkeepers are really pissed that Ephraim's barely been here since the fire… They're staging a protest.'

'Excellent,' Hermione beamed. She checked her watch. Draco and Harry had been 'planning' their rescue of Narcissa in the Hog's Head Inn for over an hour now…

'Can we go for a walk?' Gwen asked. Hermione could see that Oleg was busy doling out leaflets and engaging some middle-aged witches in twinkly-eyed banter.

'Draco will be here soon…' But Gwen was looking a little pasty. 'Okay. Come on.'

Hermione turned her head away as they walked past a pack of Blasters in full 'Knight' regalia standing outside the entrance to the park. They watched Briek's pop-up concert with derisory sneers. Briek's audience was now dancing and he was conjuring balloons and birds. More and more of Ephraim's crowd filtered past the Blasters, keen to see what was going on.

A couple of Blasters slowed as Hermione passed them on the hill. Charlie Dowson – Ron's erstwhile 'Clifftopping' buddy – soon strode past, but Cormac McClaggen squinted after her as they wound their way through the market stalls, past The Three Broomsticks.

Hermione and Gwen soon reached the edge of the village and the crowds had dissipated, although the competing noise of Ephraim's declamatory tones and Briek's raucous guitar echoed off the mountains surrounding Hogsmeade.

Hermione looked towards the rough, scrubby fields and hedgerows and the twisting country lane leading into the mountains.

'What the hell is that?' Gwen asked. She pointed to a gnarled-looking, wooden building.

'Oh! The Shrieking Shack. Do you want to take a look?'

Gwen blinked rapidly. 'It's like a blurry tapestry… all browns and greens.'

Hermione regarded her with concern. 'Can you see the road leading round the village?'

'Sort of…' Gwen looked back into Hogsmeade. 'It's clearer there.' She walked towards it but stumbled.

Hermione quickly slipped her arm around her waist. 'Are you alright?'

'I'm good,' she said, but there was a blood-smear under her nose.

'Gwen… you've got a nose-bleed.'

Gwen rubbed her nose and a slick trail of blood stained her hand. 'Bit dizzy, actually.'

'Come on, let's get you sat down,' Hermione said, easing her through the crowd spilling out of the park towards The Three Broomsticks.

It had to be the anti-Muggle charms, Hermione thought despondently. They'd been souped-up to an unpleasant degree.

The bar and lounge were already heaving and it was very noisy, so Hermione coaxed Gwen onto a chair at the edge of The Three Broomsticks beer garden.

At that same moment a band garbed as minstrels with long snowy white beards that curled to the floor struck up.

'Oh god,' Gwen groaned. 'I'm allergic to folk music.'

'Okay… let's go find Oleg...'

Gwen shook her head. 'Can I just rest a minute?'

'Of course.' Except Hermione was also due to meet Draco and Harry at Madam Puddifoot's. 'I'll go to the bar.'

Hermione could barely hear herself think over the din of the folk band and the high-spirited braying crowd now streaming inside… but then another noise sent her heart-rate soaring. A screech of bagpipes and a ferocious roaring... followed by piercing cries.

There was a stampede of people charging past The Three Broomsticks… but this was followed by hearty laughter and a crowd, six-deep, was now blocking the main entrance to the pub.

Hermione hastened to the door.

A blaze of colour was fast approaching… an elaborately conjured dragon, snapping and snarling with giant golden teeth. The dragon danced to the piper's discordant tune and blew puffs of scarlet smoke towards the crowd of onlookers.

As the dragon hooved into view, Hermione was horrified to see a small, blonde figure astride the dragon waving a banner: 'Creevey: A Class Act!'

Dennis was shouting in a high, pipsqueak voice to a mixture of cheers and jeers. Hermione flushed with second-hand embarrassment and had to turn away.

'THIS IS A FREE COUNTRY!' Dennis shrilled in defiance as a line of Blasters quickly took up positions in front of the crowd, halting the dragon's progress.

'Is that him?' Gwen said, nudging Hermione in the ribs and pointing into the crowd.

'Why aren't you sitting down?' Hermione asked, aghast. Gwen had so much blood on her face it looked like her nose had exploded. Hermione instantly conjured a handkerchief.

'The bloody band…' Gwen said. She tottered a little…. But a fast approaching blaze of blue had caught Hermione's attention.

'Take this!' Hermione said, instantly pulling off her bandana. The ONE person she didn't want to see Gwen had sauntered through the crowd and was just a few feet away.

'Your drink, sir,' said a voice Hermione recognised as Hilary Osgood. He handed Ephraim a pint of ale.

'Quick. Let's get back inside,' Hermione hissed.

'Yeah… but that's him, isn't it? The bad guy,' Gwen said, slurring her words.

Hermione noticed a tall figure peeling away from the line of Blasters. 'The guitar-man. Briek Bertel… Not licensed, sir,' Carmichael said in officious tones.

'Oh, it's just a bit of fun,' Ephraim said, seemingly jocular, although Hermione could sense he was seething.

'And there's rumours Longbottom's been spotted, too…'

'MR GOLOWITZ!' Dennis yelped in a squeaky falsetto from his dragon… It had stopped jigging up and down and was drooping a little. 'I demand hustings! A chance for us to debate the issues, not least your disgusting views on Muggle-borns and equal rights! Do you accept my challenge?'

The crowd fell silent awaiting Ephraim's response.

'You're labouring under a serious misapprehension, Mr Creevey,' Ephraim beamed. 'My first task as Minister will be to revoke these ghastly, inhumane laws that our former Minister imposed on us…'

Dennis shuffled uncomfortably on his dragon as a murmur of excited chatter and mocking laughter rippled through the crowd.

'And I'll abolish the Deviants Register, too! It's a blot on our common humanity…' Ephraim continued.

Hermione noticed some of the Blasters looking disgruntled to hear this.

'But what of your slaughter of innocent Muggles? The evil that is Dark Flux? Muggles, today… Muggle-borns, tomorrow! You are a man without morals!' Dennis persisted bravely. Too brave, Hermione thought, judging by the way the Blasters were now consulting with each other and wands were being twitched into itching palms.

Better he stopped now… and she summoned a wisp of colour-magic. Dennis opened his mouth to speak but a puzzled look stole over his face… He looked abashed and incongruous on his dragon, its tail thrashing, curling eddies of crimson smoke swirling into the sky, blood-red threads gyrating higher and higher…

Hermione sensed Ephraim glance in her direction, so she ducked behind a beefy-looking wizard in an oversized hat…

'These allegations are an abomination!' Ephraim bellowed back.

Some in the crowd applauded… but there were also voices of dissent, getting louder, more strident. An ugly row was breaking out.

A clip-clop of metallic heels resounded as the Blasters filed into position; some faced Dennis, while others formed a line of defence against the heaving crowd.

'This could turn nasty,' Hermione said to Gwen… but there was no reply. She'd vanished…

Hermione ran through the bar to the Beer Garden. The folk band was still gurning and wailing with an unwieldy mechanical instrument wheezing in accompaniment.

She wasn't here…

Hermione scampered back inside, almost knocking over Portia Witchell, screeching with laughter with a gaggle of witches at the bar.

Back to the open doorway…

'Do we arrest him, sir?' someone in full Blaster apparel was asking. It was Edgar Rosier – Angelina's ex-lover.

'Can't you see I'm busy?' Ephraim said in reproachful tones.

'Sorry, sir.'

'Manage the crowd… Creevey's retreating.'

Hermione looked left and down and felt physically sick. Gwen was slumped on the ground, blood splattered across her cheeks and jaw, being held upright by Ephraim. He was dabbing her face with a blood-soaked handkerchief.

'Do we get a healer?' asked another Blaster.

'No! No need!'

Hermione held back, lurking behind the beefy wizard who was watching this scene with round-eyed fascination.

A troupe of Blasters marched past, faces rigid with grim intent.

There was a sudden commotion and a group of people surged towards The Three Broomsticks. Blasters immediately formed a barrier between the pub and the street.

'Where is he?' screamed a woman who Hermione recognised as the owner of Honeydukes. 'We demand to speak to Golowitz!'

'Seeing as he won't come and see us, we've come to HIM,' added another.

It was now the turn of a man who usually worked at the Post Office. 'Paid loads into a bloody restoration fund… and not a single sickle spent!' He turned to the crowd and cracked a joke – greeted by hoots of laughter, but also outraged cries. 'Gerroff me!' he squealed, as a Blaster, hidden under his helmet, hoisted him by the elbow and threw him to the ground.

'Sir! What do we do?' Rosier asked urgently…

'Move this woman indoors,' Ephraim said. 'Then shut them up…'

Hermione cringed as Rosier and another Blaster – Jervis Scrimshaw - pulled Gwen from the ground and moved her inside.

'Where's our money? What you done with it?' a woman was shrieking. She started to bang two saucepans together - loud, clamorous, jarring – and others followed suit…

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to stem a surge of rising panic inside of her.

Head down, she darted into The Three Broomsticks. But she could sense Ephraim was in close pursuit behind her… She pushed through the horde of revellers milling at the bar but her access to the garden was closed off by a gang of Ephraim's supporters waving pennants and cheering with gusto as the man himself advanced towards them.

'Excuse me… please… sorry, do you mind?...' Hermione twisted herself into the thinnest version of herself possible and squeezed between the posse of whooping fans and the doorpost into the fresh air outside.

Gwen was draped across a bench. 'This fucking music,' she groaned.

High-pitched screaming echoed from the High Street, roars of anger, the fizz and wallop of spells, stunners whumping into buildings. Pandemonium…

'Oh no,' Hermione sighed, feeling like her heart might fall through her feet. It had kicked off…

Gwen tried to sit up but flopped forwards, caught in the nick of time as Hermione fell to her knees. 'I'm so sorry…' Hermione said, trying to sound calm even though she was shaking. 'Are you okay to side-Apparate?'

Who had the Portkeys? It had to be Elizaveta, but there'd be a spare. Draco….

And the moment she thought that, she remembered Narcissa...

The ruckus from the street had spilled into the bar. Thrashing pans and scuffling, shattered glass, repeated thuds and furniture being scraped across the floor, followed by a blood-curdling cry.

'Bugger,' Gwen said, trying to smile as she wiped blood from her face. 'Looks like I'm allergic to magic, too…'

'No… it's a spell. But it's been—' But Hermione couldn't finish her sentence because Gwen lurched forwards and vomited…

A gush of blood shot onto Hermione, the rest landing on a pair of highly polished shoes.

'No. Not you,' Hermione moaned.

Ephraim crouched down beside her. 'Looks like you need some help.'

Hermione's face contorted in fury. 'Just… Fuck off!'

Ephraim smirked. 'You really shouldn't bring Muggles here… International Statute and all that…'

As if in response, Gwen vomited again. Hermione frantically tried to clean her up but it was a losing battle.

'Let me…' Ephraim said. And he breezed his hand through the air. It crackled blue and Hermione's clothes were clean and Gwen was sat upright, blinking rapidly and breathing hard. Ephraim narrowed his eyes as he looked at her and she knew in that instance he'd spotted Gwen's resemblance to Anna.

He cocked his head at Hermione. 'Related?'

A violent burst of anger exploded inside of her.

'She's my cousin… And if your meddling with the anti-Muggle protection charms here has hurt her in ANY way I will fucking kill you!'

'How many times do I have to tell you, my love,' Ephraim said, looking like he was enjoying himself, 'I would never hurt someone you care about.'

'But you just have! Like all these things… whether it's a charm or a deadly fucking weapon, they don't discriminate! She should be fine in Hogsmeade if she's with someone magical. She certainly shouldn't be dizzy and vomiting blood… something's changed!' She glared daggers at him. 'Or maybe being with a measly Muggle-born doesn't qualify as magical enough… is that it?'

'I did what you asked of me!' Ephraim retorted, his eyes blazing blue. 'I said I'd revoke those laws.'

'But did you mean it?'

'Why else would I say it?'

'You say a lot of shit, let's face it!' came Draco's voice behind them. Hermione almost fainted with relief, but then remembered that the Blasters were looking for him. 'You said my mother would be here! Where the fuck is she?'

Ephraim stood up to face him. His blueness was irradiating off him… His eyes burned dangerously.

'Blimey, Gwen,' Oleg said in a concerned voice, folding her into his arms. 'What happened here?'

'The anti-Muggle charms appear to have gone nuclear,' Hermione said abrasively with a savage look at the Mayor of Hogsmeade.

'Where's my fucking mother?' Draco repeated, prodding Ephraim in the chest. 'We had a deal.'

Hermione could see Karl had slipped out of the pub and was watching them, wand in hand.

'I haven't seen her for two days.'

'Why didn't you say that last night?' Hermione asked tetchily.

'I hadn't seen her yesterday… or the day before, actually. That can sometimes happen...'

Draco snorted in disgust. 'The loving husband, eh?'

A piercing cry penetrated through the raucous mayhem…

Draco nodded towards the sound. 'Your world's about to go to shit, Mister Mayor,' he said scathingly. 'You'd better shape up.'

'What are you talking about?' Ephraim asked, bristling with indignation.

'Poor ole Madam Puddifoot. Sliced into pieces and her teashop trashed – every last fucking inch of it!' Draco yelled in his stepfather's face.

'What the hell happened?' Ephraim asked, mouth was tight with tension.

'No fucking idea, but I bet YOU do!'

'Why WOULD I?'

'Draco…' Hermione said, putting her hand on his arm.

The cacophony of voices in the street suddenly began to crescendo and a further rally of shots was being fired; crowds screaming, scattering…

There was a spluttering and a racking cough from the bench behind them.

Ephraim snapped his eyes to Gwen and then to Hermione. 'You'd better get out of here.'

'Where's Harry?' Hermione asked Draco urgently.

'Outside… trying to calm things down.'

Hermione looked towards the exit. 'Don't even think about it!' Ephraim warned. 'The Blasters are in a mood for sparring and will arrest Draco given half a chance. I'll give you five minutes head—'

But Hermione sprinted into the bar and pushed through the scrummage to the front door.

She could see Harry in the thick of the crowd, arguing with the Blasters.

She ran towards him, but the crowd was suddenly in full motion, flailing and shoving, and Dennis's dragon – without its rider – was launching itself at them. There were shouts and screams and fists were flying and a burst of magic whizzed across the top of the crowd. More wands were drawn…

'Harry!' Hermione yelled.

But he didn't hear her.

Hermione felt herself being lifted up by the pulsating crowd and then dashed to the ground. She looked up at the blur of faces and limbs - faces she recognised, faces distorted with fear and fury.

A white streak crashed into her vision and Draco was scooping her into his arms as boots struck her on all sides, knees jammed into her face and bodies fell across her…

'STOP!'

A voice thundering through the madness.

'STOP FIGHTING!'

It was Harry.

They had to hear him. To listen…. Hermione thought, and she imagined a soft damask rose and a field of violets – like the field on the clifftops at Shell Cottage … She closed her eyes and exhaled… and when she flipped her eyes open again, a sea of flowers was falling from the sky like rain.

She could feel Draco's arms around her and Harry close by, and every sinew and cell of her body was bursting with magic. She breathed it in and the heavens were falling… flowers of every size, shape and hue. Sweet-smelling fragrance filling the air... Roses, peonies, tulips, violets, sunflowers… soft and cool against her cheek and forehead.

Draco laughed and the flowers fell thicker and faster.

The crowd gazed upwards, silent, enraptured.

'Hey!' Harry called out and his voice rang out loud and clear. 'Everybody! Put your wands down…'

'Is it true about Madam Puddifoot, Harry?' came an anguished cry.

'Yes, I'm afraid it is. She's been murdered.'

An audible hiss of fear and anxiety swept through the crowd.

'No one knows what's happened yet… so the best thing to do is stay calm. Let the Aurors do their job.'

There was a click of heels and movement. Hermione dragged her eyes away from Harry – who was standing a few feet away, his back to her. She could sense Ephraim was by the door of The Three Broomsticks. A troupe of Blasters had peeled off and was now marching through Hogsmeade – no doubt to check out Madam Puddifoot's on his instruction.

'Fighting between yourselves is never the way,' Harry said quietly. 'If you have grievances – as many of you do – and if you fear things you've read in Sub Rosa, things I know to be true, then you know what to do. You VOTE. The best way to ensure justice is done is to have a peaceful, fair election.'

Harry gradually inched backwards towards them but was struggling to make headway as so many people were asking him questions.

Hermione could see Ephraim watching Harry. His face was white with cold-blooded fury and his eyes gleamed fierce cobalt-blue.

'Come on… let's get out of here,' Harry said gruffly, sinking to his knees. Draco pulled out his Portkey and they were gone.

XXX

'What the hell were you thinking with the fucking dragon?' Harry yelled at Briek when they got back to The Blue House.

'It was meant to be fun and festive… it's not our fault there was a terrible murder and the shopkeepers were in revolt!'

'Briek's right,' Hermione murmured, even though she agreed the dancing dragon was ludicrous...

Gwen, thankfully, had recovered the moment she left Hogsmeade.

'Do you think what happened will affect things with me and Oleg?' she asked Hermione once they were alone in the kitchen.

'No! Why should it?'

'Because… Alfred and I, well, we love your world. But it's kind of… exclusive, isn't it?' She looked so sad and crumpled Hermione felt like bursting into tears.

'Listen. If you and Oleg get on, stick with it. Find a way!' She threw her arms around her cousin and held on tight. 'Don't give up.'

'On the bright side… at least I'd avoid those HIDEOUS clothes,' Gwen smiled with a shudder.

Draco came in. 'Wouldn't mind heading back soon.'

'Tuyen's outside with the kids,' Gwen smiled. 'You okay, Draco?'

Draco gave her a defeated look. 'If my mother's seriously gone AWOL I haven't a clue where to start looking for her…'

'We'll find her,' Hermione said in soothing tones. She pushed his hair off his forehead and kissed him.

'And she's not well...'

'Which means we have to find her quickly… let's get home, get ourselves sorted, and get started.'

'Anyone seen Scorpius?' Arlene said, moving from room to room with a worried frown.

Hermione's stomach instantly turned over.

'Don't panic,' she advised Draco. 'I think I know where he is…'

XXX

Scorpius was staring at the painting with a perplexed expression.

'How's your day been?' Hermione smiled, sitting down beside him.

'Bit weird,' he said. He tried to smile but his mouth drooped down instead. 'Are we going home now?'

'Yes. It's been a long day.'

'You look tired,' he said, laying his head against her. She gently smoothed her fingers through his hair and sighed contentedly.

'There's no one there anymore… She's gone.'

A spasm of alarm rocked through her…

Scorpius jolted upright. 'What did I say? What happened?'

Hermione turned and stared at the painting. 'Have you seen Magda?'

'She's with Kek and Tien… they're in the nursery.'

'Good…' A thought occurred to her. 'Scorpius. Can you do me a favour?'

She explained what she wanted him to do in as calm a way as possible.

'This might help,' he said, showing her a music-box. 'I found it in the eaves.'

'Perfect! I'll only be five minutes.'

'Okay,' he said coolly.

Scorpius turned the handle on the music-box and a sweet, tinkling little chime struck up.

Hermione entered the painting.

XXX

Compared to the day she'd had the tear-shaped lake with its pretty little tower was blissfully serene. She couldn't remember if it had always been so hazily beautiful… the soft veil of drizzle that dappled her cheeks was oddly comforting.

The tower looked still and quiet.

Hermione inched her head inside the open side-door … Nothing. No crying. No plaintive sobbing… And neither was there a feeling of depthless gloom or a sense that if she ventured up the dark, spiral staircase she wouldn't ever leave again.

So, she walked up, surprised how cold she felt considering she didn't actually have a physical body.

She entered a small circular room and gazed around at pale stone walls, blank and featureless. A low, pine-framed bed was pushed against the wall. The bed was neatly made with white, lace-trimmed covers. There was a narrow, lead-latticed window framed by two plain white curtains. A chair was placed nearby, overlooking the lake and the grey haze beyond.

There was nobody here. No sign that anyone had ever been here… even so, an icy trickling sensation shuddered through her, as though somebody was silently watching…

'Where are you?' she said out loud, almost to dispel the sensation.

'She's not here,' came a familiar voice from behind her. The room fell into shadow, blocked by a figure in the doorway.

Hermione spun around to face Dolores.

'Oh, no,' she gasped, tears pricking her eyelids. It had been her, all along… this was her destiny, her doom. Dolores was here to trap her.

Dolores's darkly handsome features creased into a smile and her large, black eyes glinted in amusement.

'No, Hermione, you must not be fearful,' she said in her rich, guttural voice. 'Katya has gone. It is true. She is now of your world… I am here to prepare for her replacement.'

Hermione was so frightened she was unable to speak. Her insides felt like they had dissolved and her lips were quivering. 'Please, Dolores… I have people I love.'

Dolores moved deeper into the room. 'I always knew… I see things…' She arched a thin, dark eyebrow and gave Hermione a penetrating look. 'You refuse to believe but you should… you truly should.'

Hermione defiantly shook her head. 'No. I believe we fight our fate. We work it to our own ends.'

'Perhaps… but just think, Hermione, when you and Draco came to my house in Santa Maria… if you'd fought the fate I foresaw for you back then, for you BOTH, you'd have lost incalculable happiness… I knew to say nothing.' She gazed down at Hermione… and yes, Hermione realised it was definitely down, because Dolores seemed to have grown in stature, in magnitude, swelling with power.

'And now you want to divide us? Did you always see that, too?'

Dolores burst into loud, ribald laughter that seemed to bounce off the walls and swirl around the room. 'This is not your fate, Hermione… we found another. Although you would be a loss to Ephraim, that is true. He has become dangerously dependent on seeking your good opinion… you are the ruin of him.'

'But – who then?' Even as she said it, Hermione knew…

'A man's wife is something to be cherished. Someone to be missed.'

'No… you see Ephraim doesn't LOVE Narcissa. He used her! Please…. Dolores. I beg you!' Hermione pleaded. 'She hasn't been feeling well and she lost the man she loves… the man she truly loves. And she has grandchildren and Draco… And he loves her very much!'

Dolores shook her head sadly. 'You have a big heart, Hermione. It's both the best and the worst of you. But Grandmaster has made his decision. And we will abide by it.'

'Where is she?'

Dolores gave her an arch look. 'I cannot answer such a thing! That would be foolish. But she is safe. In a liminal space. The place between. She will be prepared for the next phase of her existence… There's no point trying to find her, Hermione! She can never leave this place… She's not like you or I who can come and go as we please.'

'It's not fair. She's done nothing wrong.'

'But it is her destiny…' Dolores smiled. 'There are other plans for you, Hermione. Grandmaster has high hopes… He will come and take you. And there will be no denying him… there usually never is.' Dolores heaved a regretful sigh and tossed her lustrous black hair.

This felt worse… 'Are you here to take me to him? Because he can't have me! That is NOT my fate, Dolores!' A large tear rolled slowly down Hermione's cheek and she thought of Scorpius sitting alone in the attic, studiously turning the handle on the music-box. Its mouse-like jingles seemed to fill the room…

Dolores looked her up and down, a slight taint of disapproval curling her lips. 'You are not real, today… He will want you body and soul.'

'Your child… Paco. Was he real?'

A shadow fell across Dolores's face… 'Not now... Not anymore. La Luz, Hermione… La Luz…'

XXX

Hermione opened her eyes and gasped and the chimes of the music-box faded away.

'Your eyes are black,' Scorpius said. He gently brushed her cheeks. 'And you've been crying.'

She turned to him and hugged him tight. 'Thank you.'

'I wondered where you two were…' Draco said tenderly. He was bowing his head to get through the door.

His face sagged when he saw the tears on Hermione's face. In two steps he was with her. She could feel his whiteness spinning round and round – and yet he was somehow calming, too.

'There you are!' Rose cried to Scorpius, straight after. He instantly leapt off the sofa and they were gone, leaving Draco gazing at Hermione, his eyes a soft warm grey, and her heart turned over…

He cast a cursory side-glance at the painting. 'She's gone hasn't she?' he said in low tones. 'I can feel it.'

'Yes…'

He chewed his lower lip, worried. 'Meaning she's… back. And…'

She rested her hand on his and held his gaze and he closed his eyes as the truth dawned… and when he opened them again, they were glistening with unshed tears.

XXX

CHAPTER TRACKS:

"RADIATE" by MARANTA

"WHAT A WONDERFUL WORLD" by LOUIS ARMSTRONG

"BEGGIN'" by FRANKIE VALLI

"FREE MONEY" by PATTI SMITH

"SHE'S IN PARTIES" by BAUHAUS

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters.