Well, we're down to the end! Sorry, I know I had promised you it'd be up yesterday at most, but as I told you, I've had little time to write and revise these two weeks, and as I write such lengthy chapters it takes a while.

Anyway, here it is!

Enjoy!

Chapter 8

There's Always More in a Family Than Meets the Eye

Instead of working, Ron spent the first half and hour basically daydreaming. That morning he had waken up spooning against Hermione. Both having slept just in t-shirts, not bothering with bottoms (though Hermione had put on an old, but still sexy thong), his morning erection had found its way between the supple cheeks of her ass and when he had realised, he couldn't help but grind a bit against her, sliding his dick up and down her crack, which had led to him fucking her from behind rather energetically while she demanded him to go harder. She had orgasmed twice in a very short time before he had taken his cock out and had cum all over her ass; all of that while she still had her thong on. Then, looking naughty, she had turned round to clean his cock, swallowing their combined fluids. That had led to another erection, and to Hermione riding him enthusiastically, her full tits bouncing wildly as her cunt moved up and down his cock until they had cum once more, utterly spent.

Just thinking about it was causing his dick to stir a bit, which was why he preferred not to have morning sex on workdays, despite how much he loved it: instead of falling asleep in each other arms, they had to go to work. Fortunately, today his pile of reports was rather small. It seemed that he had gone over most of the ones in need of revision, thank Merlin. He wondered what Gallory would ask him to do once he finished, and was musing over that when his voice resounded in the entire office.

"All Aurors available must attend an urgent meeting in Conference Room C in twenty minutes."

Startled, Ron got up and exited his cubicle.

"What happened?" he asked.

"Dunno," answered Imelda Lobbs, whose cubicle was next to his. No one else seemed to have an answer, so Ron went back to his desk and sat down, wondering. Fifteen minutes later, he got up once more and joined the other Aurors as they walked towards Room C. Ron saw Harry, who was with the patrolling team (which comprised most of the Aurors) and approached him.

"You were summoned as well?"

"Yeah," nodded Harry. "I was in Hogsmeade with Chunks. Do you know what happened?"

Ron shook his head. "No idea."

When they entered Room C, Gallory was already there, waiting for them. He looked angry.

"This doesn't look good," commented Chunks.

"No," agreed Harry as they sat down.

Gallory looked at the twenty-six Aurors for a while, studying every face. Then, he grabbed a copy of The Daily Prophet he had on a table and showed it to them.

"Rita Skeeter has published an interesting article today," he said, his voice soft yet unmistakably angry. "Usually her stories are nothing but rubbish, and this one is not different for the most part, however …" He opened the newspaper for the first page. Ron could see that the main headline referred to Goyle's case, but he could see a photograph of Harry on the bottom. He glanced at his friend and, judging by the way he was frowning, he had seen it as well. But in that moment Gallory began to read and he focused his attention back on him.

"The article's title is 'Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley in trouble. Big mistakes regarding Gregory Goyle revealed. The integrity of the Auror Office, questioned.'"

Ron and Harry opened their mouths in astonishment. A cacophony of mutterings rose in the room, but Gallory silenced it when he began to read the article.

"Journalism is not an easy job. More often than we'd like, we journalists are insulted, accused and attacked for the articles we write. Sometimes, that's due to inaccuracies or wrong information, but most of the time, and the worst attacks, come when we nail the truth.

"It's not a secret that the powerful fear journalists. As a source of power, they'd like to control the flow of information, because what the public perceive as the truth means everything. An article can make a politician soar in popularity or fall so deep they can never go up. It's also not a secret that the powerful have managed to get their desired control of the media, using it for their own agendas. But, dear readers, let me assure you that I won't, ever, be one of their puppets, nor will I allow them to silence me.

"Yesterday, I was subjected to the insults and accusations of Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter because of the two-part editorial I wrote regarding the so-called Equality Law. As you can read in page five in this very newspaper, Harry Potter delivered a passionate defence of Hermione Granger and her work. One could think that that was a natural reaction, for someone to defend so eagerly their best friend and future sister-in-law, a friend who has saved one's life and had been with them through thick and thin. Yes, it definitively could be considered natural, even without thinking that such a passionate defence may hide more than 'brotherly feelings'. The nature of the relationship between Harry Potter and Hermione Granger has been thoroughly discussed in the past, and, as you know, and given for how long I've known them, I think there's always been more than that between them.

But even that could be considered 'normal,' and many would think that that's a matter that only concerns the two of them and their partners. However, new information has come to light recently. Information that puts this scene in a new perspective and which is far more worrisome for the population of Wizarding Britain.

As you very well known, since Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley joined the Auror Office five years ago under the controversial Emergency Recruitment Act promoted by Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt. We were told they — along other participants in the Battle of Hogwarts — would be a great asset, and such affirmation seemed to be confirmed as time passed and they ascended quickly, being responsible for important detentions of Death Eaters and Snatchers on the run. However, contrarily to the information we had, not everyone in the Auror Office believed that their roles in the war could easily translate into work as Aurors. In fact, Garmond Gallory, Deputy Head Auror — now acting as temporary head since Gawain Robards was wounded during the capture of Rabastan Lestrange — was never happy with that law. And maybe he was right, after all, as it has come to my knowledge that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, in charge of watching Gregory Goyle (suspect of committing the attacks against Amelia Notte and Isabelle Fawley), were convinced that he was not involved at all and that watching him was nothing but a waste of time. However, as our readers know, Gregory Goyle has been officially accused of the crimes and will stand trial next week. But Weasley and Potter's belief in his innocence led them to a lack of care in their vigilance. As a result, Goyle was able to get away and attack John Malbard. As a consequence of such mistake, Potter and Weasley no long work together, and some say that even their jobs as Aurors are hanging on a very thin thread.

Our readers will remember that Harry Potter himself has stated, in the past, that being an Auror was his dream job, and, until now, many believed he was on his way to be Head Auror, something that now might never happen.

Unless someone else intervenes.

And who else is right now in a position of power, considered the right hand of Francis Knowton, current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and in the right path to become Minister for Magic?

Is Harry Potter, under the pretence of friendship — or otherwise — making points so Hermione Granger will use her considerable influence to save his job or even get him a promotion, despite his mistakes? Is perhaps ambition what ties the so-called Golden Trio together?"

At this point, Gallory stopped reading. Ron, boiling with fury, glanced at Harry, who was red in the face with irritation and muttering 'fucking cow!' under his breath. Around them, the other Aurors began to whisper.

"Silence!" bellowed Gallory, as he threw the newspaper to the side with disgust. Everyone shut up and he moved his eyes over his subordinates, as if examining them through one of those X-ray devices Hermione had told him about. Finally, he laid his gaze on then both. "I won't bother reading the rest. I don't care about the trash she writes about your love lives. But I care about the Auror Office and its reputation. I care about Goyle's trial. What happens inside this office, unless it comes to trial, stays inside this office!" he shouted, angry. "I want to know who's talked to Rita Skeeter, and I want to know it right now!"

"Sir, as the newspaper says, we talked to her yesterday, but well — only about what she wrote about Hermione, which, by the way, is utter rubbish and —"

"I know that!" bellowed Gallory, looking at Harry. "And I'm choosing to believe that what she writes about you using your friendship with Granger to get a promotion in this office is a lie as well. But someone told her about what you thought of Goyle's involvement and my own opinions. So I'll repeat the question: who — talked — to — her?"

The silence in the room could be cut with a knife. Ron looked around, to the curious and nervous faces. Finally, after a couple of minutes, Linus Lancaster got up, looking his expression grim.

"Lancaster?" asked Gallory, furrowing his brow.

"Sir, you must know it was accidental. I — I went to the canteen yesterday after work, with Charles Coridan and — well, we started talking about the case, and I must have mentioned to him about Potter and Weasley. I — I didn't realise Rita Skeeter was in a table near us until we got up to leave. But I swear, she couldn't have heard us, unless she was using a Listening Spell …"

Ron and Harry exchanged a glance, and Ron gulped. He had never thought about someone using Listening Spells in the canteen. The Auror Office and many others were protected against such methods of espionage, but not the canteen. A simple Muffliato would render a Listening Spell useless, yet they had never thought about using it.

Gallory shut his eyes and clenched his fists as if trying to regain control of himself. "You are Aurors! You must be on alert all the time!"

"I know, Sir," said Coridan meekly.

"Yeah. We're sorry," added Lancaster.

"Being sorry doesn't help! You're suspended — and without pay! — until next Monday. And pray to Merlin that this doesn't affect the trial! Dismissed!"

No one wanted to stay in the room with an angry Gallory, so everyone made a quick escape. Lancaster and Coridan, though, approached Ron and Harry.

"I'm sorry," Lancaster said, looking downcast. "It was not my intention."

Harry shrugged. "She's a sneak, Skeeter. She's been doing this all her life. Only she no longer can use her animagus abilities to spy."

The other two Aurors nodded and then left.

Harry and Ron were about to follow them when Gallory called them.

"Yeah?" asked Harry.

"I don't want any of you to have any contact with Rita Skeeter at least until the trial." He fixed his eyes on Ron. "And I don't care if she writes your girlfriend is sleeping with all your brothers. Keep away from her, is it clear?"

"Yeah," nodded Harry.

"Okay," agreed Ron, though quite reluctantly.

"Sir, the article may harm Ron and me, but it won't affect the trial. Skeeter only wants to speak ill of us, especially Hermione and me."

Gallory stared at him with a penetrating gaze. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked. "The article implies you don't think Goyle's the one responsible for this! If you think Goyle's attorney won't use that in his defence, you're as naïve as children! He's likely to call you to testify at the trial!"

"Hadn't thought of that," said Harry shyly.

Gallory scoffed. "We'll cross that bridge when time comes. Now go away, I was already busy with the trial and now I've got to address this as well before it explodes on our faces."

Ron and Harry left.

"I'm sorry," Harry told Ron. "Fuck, that fucking bitch must have drunk Felix Felicis! How likely was that she heard Lancaster and Coridan talking about us the same day we confront her in the Atrium?"

"It's not your fault," said Ron. "I was the one who insulted her, wasn't I? I don't even care much about what she said about us. I'm more worried about how this might affect Hermione and her law."

"Shit, yeah," said Harry. "Gods, I'd happily strangle that woman."

"So would I, Mate. So would I."

"Well, I'm heading for Hogsmeade then. See you, Ron."

Ron looked at him and then an idea occurred to him. "Hey, what about we have lunch together at The Three Broomsticks? It's been a while since last time we were there."

Harry thought about it. "Sounds good, but it would have to be a late lunch. Due to the meeting we're late for the patrol. If you can wait until half past two …"

Ron pondered it. "Yeah, it's okay. I'll ask Hermione."

Harry let out a wide yawn and nodded. "Good."

"You look tired," observed Ron.

"Yeah, didn't sleep much."

Ron cringed. "Please, don't explain to me how my sister keeps you awake at nights."

Harry snorted. "Your sister is almost seven months pregnant, Ron. Those activities are fairly rare these days."

"Oh, yeah," he said, nodding. "So — what kept you awake?" Ron asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know, something is nagging at me, but I can't grasp it. When I think I've got it, it slips away. It'll probably be something unimportant, but —" He shrugged.

"You didn't forget an important date, right? It happened to me once, I kept thinking I was forgetting something, and it turned out my mum's birthday was just a couple of days away. Luckily, Hermione asked me if I had thought of a gift."

Harry stared at him in disbelief and amusement. "You're incredible."

"Well, we were getting pretty close to catch Lother Smarmish's group of Snatchers and I was focusing on that," said Ron, defending himself.

Harry shook his head. "Anyway, it's not that," he said. "But don't mind, as I said, it'll be nothing. See you later."

"Enjoy your patrolling," shouted Ron when Harry was already walking away.

"Enjoy your reports!" he shouted back, throwing a smirk at him.

Ron grunted and then walked back to his cubicle, his mind going back to that fucking article. He really hoped Hermione could pass a law against printing lies or stories not supported by evidence. Right now, there was nothing he wanted more than to punish Skeeter.

He sent Hermione a memo telling her about his lunch plans with Harry, and she answered back accepting. Smiling, Ron began to work on his remaining reports, hoping to finish with them and wondering what he would be assigned to once he finished. Maybe to patrolling, as well … He wouldn't mind that too much. At least he wouldn't feel trapped in his cubicle, feeling like he was wasting his time.

The answer to that question came sooner than he had expected as, around two o'clock he received a memo calling him to a meeting with Gallory when he was back from lunch. Wondering what he wanted or if he had got himself into more trouble, he got up walked towards the office. The door was open and Gallory invited him to enter as soon as he saw him.

Gallory continued writing on the parchment he had been working on for almost a minute, while Ron waited, making an effort not to squirm on his seat. Finally, Gallory pushed the parchment away and looked up at him, leaning against the back.

"You're almost finished with the revision of the reports, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, Sir."

"I wasn't going to put you to this, but all other Aurors are busy, especially now that Coridan and Lancaster are suspended," he told him, and Ron nodded, curious. Was there a new case? "I'm sure you know Potter and Chowks witnessed an attack yesterday evening in front of Gringotts. An unknown attacker tried to curse Astoria Malfoy."

"Yeah, I know."

"We both know there are dozens of people that could be responsible for attacking a Malfoy. However, she claims that it was not just an attack. That it was an abduction attempt."

"Really?" asked Ron, surprised. "I didn't know that."

"She sent an official request for investigation an hour ago. So I need you to pop into her house this afternoon and talk to her," Gallory informed him, passing him the case file.

Ron took it, glancing at the folder before looking back at Gallory. "I need to go to Malfoy Manor?" asked Ron, who couldn't believe what he was hearing. His desire for a new case had kicked him in the bollocks with force.

Gallory observed him with an inquisitive gaze. "I know you don't have good memories of that place," he said, and Ron perceived a hint of sympathy in his voice. "But you're an Auror, aren't you, Weasley? And as I said, there's no one else available. However, if you've got a problem with the mission, say it."

Ron stared back at him, wondering if Gallory was testing him. It was not as if he could refuse an assignment, and he was no coward.

"I can do it," he assured, his expression determined.

"I don't trust the Malfoys, though," added Gallory, "so be careful and ready to call for help."

Ron nodded and got up. When he was about to exit the office, Gallory called him again.

"Weasley."

"Yes, Sir?" asked Ron, turning round.

"Don't screw this up like you did the stakeout on Goyle."

Ron gritted his teeth, and just nodded before leaving.

"Fuck," he said when he reached his cubicle. A random attack done by someone unidentifiable in Diagon Alley. Ron knew perfectly well that those cases were rarely resolved, unless there was more to it than it appeared. If it was really an abduction attempt, it might be just someone wanting to ask for a ransom.

As he had fifteen minutes or so before meeting Hermione, he opened the file and read it. Mostly it was what Harry and Chowks had written the day before. Astoria's complaint only stated that she had been attacked in an abduction attempt by an unknown stranger and requested for the event to be fully investigated.

Ron closed the folder and threw it on the desk with disgust. That the Auror Office, and concretely him, had to work to protect a Malfoy was definitive proof that the Universe, sometimes, had a nasty sense of humour.

Shaking his head, he checked his watch and felt his stomach rumble with hunger. It was twenty past two, so he reduced the case folder and put it in one of the inner pockets of his robe. While he was doing this, the very person he was going to meet appeared in the entrance to his cubicle.

"Hi, Ron."

"Hey, Love. You're a bit early. I was going to go and fetch you."

She shrugged in a weary way. "I was tired and needed to get out."

Ron looked at her with sympathy and got up, taking one of her hands in his. "Did you read the Prophet?"

She nodded.

"Shit, Hermione, I'm so sorry. When I confronted her yesterday I didn't think, and — fuck."

"It's not your fault, Ron. I'm sorry you and Harry got involved in this as well. I hope this doesn't harm you."

"Well, Gallory was extremely pissed off at this, you know," he told her. "It turns out Lancaster and Coridan were talking in the canteen and she overheard them. They believe she used a Listening Spell."

At this, Hermione froze. "On Aurors?" she asked, flabbergasted. "The nerve of her!"

"Yeah."

"Whether the Equality Law gets passed or not, I'll deal with this, I assure you," she stated, looking fierce and determined.

Ron smiled. "I know you'll do, Love."

They walked out of his cubicle to head for the lifts, when Ron caught sight of Ada, who was running towards her own cubicle, her face screwed in worry. Exchanging a worried look with Hermione, they moved quickly, stopping at the entrance.

"Ada? What's up?" Ron asked.

The Auror, who was taking something from one of her drawers, turned round.

"John Malbard has died."

"What!?" exclaimed Ron while Hermione let out a gasp.

"Murdered?" she asked.

Ada just shrugged. "No one entered his room, if that's what you're asking. His mother was in there with him. He just started spasming. She thought he was about to wake up, but, instead, he simply died."

"Bloody fuck."

"We don't know it it's the natural run of the curse, or whatever they did to him, though he was the last victim. The other possibility is that whoever did this to him can kill the victims at will, even from afar."

"Oh, goodness …" said Hermione.

"And the state of the other two seems to have worsened as well. Their constants have diminished. The healers fear they'll die as well."

"Shit," muttered Ron.

"Sorry, but I have to leave you, Gallory's called for an urgent meeting. We're going to interrogate Goyle again. If the victims are in danger of death, he might push for the use of Veritaserum, even though the tests for the Unbreakable Vow were positive. And, on top of it all, Lancaster chose today to get suspended …" She let out a deep sigh and left.

Ron and Hermione watched her for a few moments before continuing their way out.

"We've got to tell Harry," Ron said, and Hermione nodded.

From the Atrium, they Apparated to the High Street in Hogsmeade and were suddenly hit with the cold. It was snowing here in the North and there already were areas covered in a blank blanket. In another circumstances, he would have liked to take a look around, as he had always looked Hogsmeade in winter, but, with the last news, they hurried towards the Three Broomsticks.

When they entered, Ron made a quick scan of the room and spotted Harry near the bar, talking to Sheila Jennings. He pulled on Hermione's hand, moving towards their friend, when he noticed the sudden silence. Stopping moving and looking around, he saw everyone looking at them and whispering.

"Are your lives so boring you must believe anything Rita Skeeter writes?" he spat out loud.

"Ron," Hermione muttered in warning.

Ron ignored her and kept glaring at the patrons, his eyes menacing. Everyone avoided his gaze and looked back at their tables.

"That's what I thought," he muttered to himself, and resumed walking towards Harry.

"Fuck, Ron, you're rather scary, you know?" commented Harry in an amused tone when they reached him.

Ron grunted.

"That was not necessary," scolded Hermione. "It's not the first time, after all."

"Fuck 'em," said Ron, still angry. Sheila let out a chuckle, and then patted Harry's shoulder.

"I'll leave you three to it," she declared. "Take it easy, Ron," she added, and then left.

"Come on, I've got a table," said Harry. "Rosmerta, can you send us a couple of menus?" he asked. "And — three butterbeers?" he added, looking at Ron and Hermione.

Both nodded.

"In a second," the barmaid said.

The three friends sat down and Hermione cast a quick Muffliato around them. Harry eyed her curiously, ignoring the apparition of the menus on top of the table.

"What's up?" asked Harry. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Ron told Harry about Malbard.

"Fuck," he said. Right then, Rosmerta brought them their drinks, but neither of them paid her any attention. "But — why now?" he asked.

"Maybe the curse ends up in death," suggested Hermione. "Though it's strange."

"But — is there any curse that can be controlled at will?" asked Ron, looking at her.

"Not that I know of," said Hermione, "but I had never heard of a curse like the ones these three were put under."

"We need to do something," said Harry, anxious. "I'm sure that interrogating Goyle will not help. In any case, it'll only add another victim."

"They should have pressed the Notts for information," said Ron, shaking his head. "Now I'm really sure they will want to deal with this by themselves."

"We could go back there," suggested Harry. "Talk to them again."

"I can't," said Ron. "Gallory assigned me the case concerning Astoria Malfoy."

"Did he?" asked Harry, surprised. "Why?"

Ron shrugged. "There was no one else free. And well, the most likely outcome is that I won't find anything, so another failure in my record."

"What case concerning Astoria Malfoy?" asked Hermione, her eyes moving from one to the other. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, yeah, I didn't tell you," realised Ron. "Yesterday, someone attacked Astoria Malfoy in Diagon Alley, in front of Gringotts."

"But she managed to defend herself," added Harry, "so she's perfectly fine. She did fil the complaint, then?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah. Claims it was an abduction attempt. I've got to go to Malfoy Manor after lunch to talk to her."

"To Malfoy Manor?" asked Hermione, biting her lower lip in worry.

Ron grasped her hand in his.

"Yeah. But don't worry, Love. It'll be okay."

"And she hasn't got any idea about who the attacker could be?"

"Nah, or at least, she didn't write about it. Probably someone trying to settle some score or wanting to ask for a ransom." He huffed. "They could take a leaf out of the Notts' book and deal with this by themselves."

At this, Harry's eyes became the size of saucers, as if he had had a sudden revelation. He just stared off into space, with his mouth hung open.

"Harry?" asked Hermione. "Are you all right?"

"That's it …" he muttered, as if he hadn't heard her. "That's it!"

"That's it — what?" asked Hermione.

Harry's eyes focused again and he laid them on Ron. "It was Amadeus Nott."

"What are you talking about?" inquired Ron, not understanding anything. "Amadeus Nott was — what?"

"The one who attacked Astoria yesterday."

Ron stared at him, completely taken aback. "How the hell did you figure that?"

"Harry, I think you're getting a bit carried away," added Hermione. "I mean, what's the Malfoys have to do with this?"

"You think they are behind the attacks on the Notts?" asked Ron.

"I don't know, that could be, but it all fits, see: Astoria was attacked in Diagon Alley yesterday, around ten to five. Barely an hour later, we were at the Notts, and when Amadeus saw us, especially me, he got really nervous. But it couldn't be due to the case; No, I'm sure feared we had gone there due to that assault. I couldn't take a long look at Astoria's attacker, but his frame fits with that of Amadeus! And his hair, it was a bit damp, though everything was dry in Wiltshire. However, it did rain in London. He had taken off his cloak, but he was wearing his robes and boots."

"Harry, he could have been in London for another reason, you can't —" started Hermione, wanting to stop his friend before he got too carried away.

"Hermione, I know it! This is what has been nagging me since yesterday! I don't know if the Malfoys are behind this, but don't you think it's too much of a coincidence that yesterday Astoria is attacked, and today John Malbard dies? You say it yourself, Ron, the old families like to deal with these matters between themselves!"

Ron stared at him. What he was saying seemed far-fetched and, at the same time, sounded true.

"But Lucius Malfoy can't leave the house and isn't even permitted to use a wand. He's monitored all the time. And I don't think Narcissa or Draco are behind this," reasoned Hermione.

"That's what we must discover!"

"Harry …" said Hermione. "Why would Astoria fill a report if they are involved in this?"

That was a good point.

"Hermione, Anticus Nott married Martha Greengrass, Muriel told you two that! And Astoria is also a Greengrass!" argued Harry, looking a bit frantic.

That was also a good point. Maybe a better one.

"That's true," said Ron, nodding.

Hermione tightened her lips in a fine line, still unconvinced.

"Well, I've got to investigate this, so I'll go there after lunch and see what I can find," declared Ron. They ordered and ate rather quickly. Once they were done, they paid and got out of the pub.

"Remember, constant vigilance," said Harry. "Call for reinforcements at the first sign of danger."

Ron nodded. "I've got my coin with me, don't worry."

"Good," said Harry.

Hermione got on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. "See you later, okay? Be careful," she whispered to him.

Ron nodded and then Disapparated to Wiltshire once more, this time Apparating just in front of the gates to Malfoy Manor. Just the sight of them caused a shiver to run down his spine. He had wished to never have to come back here, and, until now, he had been lucky.

No longer, however.

Knowing he couldn't postpone this forever and that, in fact, time was of the essence, he approached the gates. At once, the iron bars twisted into a face, though, this time, it spoke with a much gentler voice than back then.

"Who is it?"

"Ronald Weasley, from the Auror Office."

"Come in, please," the voice said, and the gates opened.

Ron walked quickly towards the front door of the impressive manor. The doors opened before he reached them, and Draco Malfoy appeared on the door.

"Weasley," he said, in a voice that, if not kind, was at least devoid of its old contempt.

"Malfoy."

"Are you here because of the attack on my wife?"

"Yeah."

Draco nodded and motioned for him to enter. Ron stood still for a moment and then, swallowing the lump in his throat, walked in.

"I didn't expect you, to be honest," said Malfoy conversationally as he guided Ron along a corridor.

"There was no one else available," grunted Ron, and then added, "Believe me, I didn't ask to come here."

"Yes, I imagine," replied Malfoy stiffly. To Ron's relief, they passed the door that led to the drawing room where Harry, Hermione and he had been brought six years ago. Malfoy seemed to notice this, as he explained, "My parents live in that wing of the house. Astoria and I live in the west one. That was my condition for staying here instead of moving out."

Ron didn't say anything, as he didn't know what to make of such a declaration. Frankly, he didn't care very much about Malfoy's problems with his parents, but certainly he was glad not to go back to that room.

They took a turn to the left and walked along another corridor until they arrived at another, smaller, but also cosier and more illuminated living room. It was still too austere and aristocratic for Ron's tastes, but it seemed warmer and more familiar. A tall, though rather thin and pale looking woman with dark hair and big, green eyes, was sitting on one of the couches, reading a book, a steaming mug on the table in front of her. She lifted her eyes from the pages when she heard them approaching.

"Good afternoon," she said, smiling friendly, something Ron wouldn't have ever expected from a Malfoy. Though, of course, she wasn't really a Malfoy. In fact, she had some resemblance to Calista Nott, which was not unexpected; after all, she was also a Greengrass. Astoria looked much livelier, however. "I didn't expect you so early."

Ron just shrugged, feeling uncomfortable despite her welcoming attitude. "In cases like yours, time is always an important factor," he explained, trying to sound professional.

"Please, sit down," she asked, indicating the sofa just in front of her. "Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Wine? Butterbeer? Pumpkin juice?"

Ron shook his head, though he did sit down. Draco also took a seat next to his wife, grasping her hand in his with affection, a gesture he had never expected to see coming from him.

"Look, Weasley, I know our history is not good, and I'm the one to blame the most for that. I know we're not friends and certainly I won't be inviting you for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron if I see you, but I want to thank you for coming here for Astoria. She's the most important thing in the world to me, and I don't know what I'd do if something happened to her."

Ron watched him as he talked, searching for signs of lies and deception, but he found none. He really seemed to love her. She smiled up at him.

"I am an Auror. This is my job," Ron said simply.

"Sorry, Draco is a bit overprotective," said Astoria in an almost apologetic tone. "I told him I was all right. I managed to defend myself from that man, but he insisted I filed the complaint."

"The Malfoys have made quite a few enemies along the years," said Draco. "In both sides. I wouldn't ever forgive myself if something happened to you due to my actions or those of my parents."

"I knew that when I married you," said Astoria, in a tone that indicated this was not the first time they had this discussion. "And we're boring Auror Weasley here. I'm sure he'd rather be anywhere else than here hearing us."

Anywhere else, yeah, agreed Ron.

"Can you tell me what you remember of the attack? Add every detail you can," asked Ron, taking out the file and enlarging it.

"Well, I went to Diagon Alley, like almost every Tuesday. Usually there are less people, which means less stares."

"Does many people know about that routine of yours?" asked Ron.

Astoria shrugged. "My family, Draco's, and I suppose others that frequent Diagon Alley."

Ron nodded. "Continue."

"I needed to take out money so I went to Gringotts. I was in the stairs when I saw something from the corner of my eye. I dodged the spell aimed at me for inches, though I fell on my back. Then I saw him. Though he was covered in a long cloak and wearing a hood over his head, I know it was a man, due to his size and body shape. He shot another spell at me, but I managed to deflect it. Then he shouted, 'You're coming with me, you Greengrass bitch!' and jumped towards me. I shot a Stunning Spell at him, which caught him a bit by surprise, though he protected himself. However, I quickly shot another curse that went through his Shield Charm and knocked him off his feet. That's when Harry Potter and the other Auror came running and, seeing them, he Disapparated," finished Astoria, and took a sip of her mug.

"Let me tell you that you managed quite well. It's hard to defend yourself when you're attacked by surprise."

Astoria smiled, though it was a sad smile.

"Well, I'm rather good at magic, Auror Weasley. It's something I owe to Arcante Greengrass, one of my ancestors, the great-great-grandfather of my grandfather. He was a Dark Wizard, and a very powerful one. However, he dreamed with more and more power, and so he did a series of experiments on himself and his wife. But it was really dangerous and advanced magic and it turned out becoming a curse. He died as a result of it, consumed by his own power, but it didn't stop there, and passed it to his bloodline. You might have heard that the Greengrass have poor health, and that's true. As you can tell, I don't look very healthy. Physically, I'm rather weak. That was one of the reasons Draco's parents didn't want him to marry me. They feared I wouldn't give him a child, meaning the end of the Malfoy line."

Ron just nodded, wondering why the hell she was telling him that. Then it occurred to him that she might not have many friends, and maybe she just liked to talk to someone new.

"The curse runs in the blood of all descendants of Arcante, though it's also linked to our family name, so, fortunately, it won't affect my children, if I have them. Arcante didn't want the power he was seeking to spread to other families which is rather sexist, if you want my opinion, but well, he was an arsehole, so no surprise there. In any case, the curse, if it manifests, can make our magic much more powerful, but can also render us fragile and prone to illness. Some of us don't seem to be affected by the curse, like my sister. She neither is weak neither is her magic as strong as mine. Others, the most, only get the weakness. A very, very few lucky ones along the years have only got the powerful magic."

"I'm sorry," he said, feeling, to his surprise, a bit of pity for Astoria. She really seemed nice. He took his time writing what she had told him in the report, omitting the story about the curse. When he finished, he lifted his head and told her, "In the report Aurors Potter and Chowks wrote yesterday there's nothing about what the man that attacked you told you."

"Yes, I know. In that moment I think I didn't really acknowledge it, I was a bit in shock, after all. But I remembered afterwards. Those words are the reason why we believe he was trying to abduct me. I'm sure he only wanted to get money out of this, but Draco fears it might be something more sinister."

"The way you say it, Astoria, looks like that man really hated you."

"If that's the case, he said 'Astoria Greengrass,' Draco, so it might not have anything to do with you."

Ron leaned against the back of the couch, deep in thought. Harry's theory seemed more and more plausible. "You both may be right."

They both looked at Ron. "Really?" said Draco.

"Mrs Malfoy —"

"Astoria, please," she pleaded. "When you call me that it feels like you're talking to Narcissa."

"Right. Astoria, do you know Amadeus Nott?"

"Theo's uncle?" asked Malfoy, frowning.

"Yeah."

"No, I don't," denied Astoria.

"I do," declared Draco. "I remember him from when I used to go to the Notts to play with Theo when I was a child. I haven't seen him in years, though. Do you think it was him? Just like that?" he asked, his expression a mixture between awe and disbelief.

"We've got reasons to think he might be the one responsible, yes. Due to what happened to his daughter."

"Isabelle?" asked Draco. "You're insinuating he thinks we've got something to do with what happened to her?" he inquired, now on the defensive. "Because I tell you, right now, that that's not true! I know my record is far from clean, Weasley, but I've done nothing illegal or related to the Dark Arts since the end of the war! If you think that because of Goyle's involvement, then let me inform you that I haven't talked to him since the day of the battle. And if he's told you otherwise, he's lying!"

"Okay, okay, calm down, will you?" said Ron, glaring at him. "I'm not insinuating anything." He looked at Astoria. "I find it odd that you don't know him, though," he said. "I mean, he's your cousin, after all. His father married your great-aunt Martha."

Astoria let out a sad chuckle. "Yes, I know. Look, Auror Weasley, the Greengrass might be purebloods, but we never were much into that pureblood supremacy thing. Well, I'd lie if I tell you my family didn't support those ideas, because they did, as it benefitted them, but, since Arcante and his wife, there have been very, very few Dark wizards among us. We never supported the Dark Lord. Well, the majority of us, at least. But, for what I've learned over the years, my great-aunt Martha was indeed a pureblood fanatic. My grandfather had a tense relationship with her due to that. When she married Anticus Nott, I think they practically stopped talking. Of course, these are rumours, things you hear at dinners and behind closed doors. I never met my grandfather, he died before I was born."

Ron nodded, feeling frustrated. If the Greengrasses and the Notts had no relationship, it was unlikely they would know about the secret children. This was another clue that just dissolved into the air. He let out a sigh.

"In any case, why would Amadeus Nott think Astoria might be behind what happened to his daughter?" asked Draco. "And what does it have to do with Goyle?"

"Whoever is behind the attack on Isabelle Fawley knows secrets about the Notts, secrets only people very close to them could know." He looked at Astoria again. "But if no one in your family was close to them, then I don't get why he would attack you. Maybe it was not Amadeus after all. Maybe you're right and it was just an attempt to get money."

"Well, now that you say that, there was a person in my family close to the Notts, apart from my great-aunt," said Astoria.

"Really? Who?" asked Ron, leaning forwards with interest.

"My uncle Gerion. My father's older brother. From what I've heard, he was close to our great-aunt Martha, though that's all I know."

"Gerion, you say?" asked Ron, excited. Astoria nodded.

Gerion. Gerion Greengrass.

GG.

A shiver went down Ron's spine. Could this be it? Could he have found the name of the person behind all this?

"That uncle of yours — where does he live?" Ron asked.

At this question, Astoria's face turned apologetic, almost sympathetic. "For what I know, in a prison in France."

"A prison in France?" asked Ron, disheartened.

Astoria nodded. "Yes. He was accused of murder, many years ago, before my birthday, and sentenced to life imprisonment. Father never talks about him, so I don't know much."

"Fuck," muttered Ron, unable to restrain himself. Why whenever he thought he had a hold onto a thread leading to the truth, it vanished from between his fingers? In any case, this was the only clue he might have, so he asked, "Is there someone that could tell me more about him? Or show me a photograph?"

"I can ask Daphne. I think she knows more about these family stories. I never cared much, to be honest."

"Can you? Right now?"

She looked towards Draco. He nodded and got up, walked towards the fireplace and, throwing a bit of Floo powder into the flames, muttered "Greengrass Place!" and buried his face in the flames. He stayed in there for a bit and then got out and straightened up, brushing his robes. "She'll be here soon."

They waited, in a tense silence in which only Astoria seemed to be comfortable, until, after ten minutes that lasted for about a year, the fireplace roared again and Daphne stepped out. She stood in front of the fireplace, cleaning her pristine robes and throwing her long, dark hair to her back with a quick, graceful movement of her head. Ron observed her, noticing that she certainly looked healthier than Astoria. Was rather hot, in fact, he realised, noticing the way her full breasts strained the front on her fitting robes.

When she considered herself presentable, she looked around, her eyes landing on Ron.

"Weasley?" she asked in obvious surprise. "I can swear that this is the latest place where I'd expect to see you," she commented haughtily. She looked at Astoria questioningly. "What's this, Tori? What's he doing here? And why did you want me to bring a photograph of Gerion?"

"Auror Weasley is investigating the attack I suffered yesterday," responded Astoria. "He thinks it might be related to the Notts, and Great Aunt Martha and Uncle Gerion were the only ones close to them."

Daphne narrowed her eyes. "But we never met them. Martha died many years before our births, and Gerion was imprisoned a few or so afterwards."

"What do you know about your uncle?" asked Ron.

Daphne looked at him in the same way she would at a stain of dirt in her shoes, but Ron held her gaze unflinchingly. Yes, Daphne was hotter, but he definitely liked Astoria a million times better.

"I'm not very comfortable talking about my family with you of all people, Weasley."

"And usually I'd feel the same, but this is a criminal investigation, Daphne," Ron explained, mocking her. "There are lives at stake."

"Come on, Daph, be nice," pleaded Astoria in a mild scolding tone.

Daphne watched Ron for a bit, as if weighing her options, and then sat down next to her sister. "I don't know much," she started. "Father and Mother never talk about him. He drifted away after Gerion finished at Hogwarts. He had always been closer to Great Aunt Martha, even visiting her at Nott Mansion. But our father didn't like that, and it was a frequent reason for rows between them. Granddad feared he would follow on her steps and fall under the influence of the Notts. However, for what I gather, his attempts to keep him away from them had the opposite effect. In fact, when he finished school, he went to live with them for a while. That caused a really big row between him and Grandad and after that they never talked again."

"How do you know all that?" asked Astoria, a bit surprised.

"I asked Father once," Daphne answered. "He didn't want to talk about it, I think it still hurts him, but he ended up telling me." She made a brief pause and then looked at Ron again. "Father told me that Grandad was sure Anticus would convince Gerion to join the Death Eaters, though, whatever that ended being true or not, they never knew for sure. After a couple of years living with the Notts, he began to travel out of the country, spending long periods of time in France, though Father didn't know why. In hindsight, he thinks he was probably trying to extend the Dark Lord's influence on Europe. Anyway, in one of those travels, many years later, he was arrested, accused of killing a wizard in a duel and sentenced to life imprisonment."

Ron listened to her, nodding slowly. "No one from your family went to visit him in prison?"

"No," denied Daphne. Father says that Grandad didn't want to talk about him at all. In fact, they had barely talked to him or seen him since he finished at Hogwarts. Grandad, who by then was already weak and ill, died barely a year later. Father always blamed Gerion for that, saying that Grandad could have lived longer if he hadn't had a son who had broken his heart."

Ron nodded slowly, taking the sad story in.

"Can I see that photograph you brought? Because you brought it, right?" he asked after a moment.

Daphne nodded, though quite reluctantly, and, after extracting it from one of her pockets, passed it to him. Ron took it and watched it. It showed a young man of around seventeen and a child of about nine or ten, standing in front of a lake in a beautiful, sunny day. There was an obvious resemblance between them, as both had the same dark hair and straight nose, though that's where the similarities ended. While the child looked small and even weak, the boy was strong and well-built. He had an arm over his brother's shoulders, showing an affection that, for what Daphne had told him, wouldn't last. Ron turned the photo and saw an inscription in there.

Darius and Gerion, Blagdon Lake, July 1956

Ron turned the photograph again and took another look at the image. He studied Gerion's square face more carefully, realising he reminded him, albeit slightly, of another man, though this one was blonde. The guy Harry and he had seen with Goyle.

"Does Gerion have any family?" asked Ron.

Daphne shook her head. "No. He never married."

Ron looked at the photo once more, deep in thought. He had the feeling that there was something here, even if the pieces of the puzzle didn't fit completely. He was going to have to look more into this.

He passed the photo back to Daphne.

"Do you know where he used to live, before going to prison?" asked Ron.

Daphne shook her head. "No. I could ask Father, though."

"Do that. And send the address to me at the Ministry of Magic. We're going to investigate all this," he told Astoria. "Meanwhile, I advise you not to leave this mansion. I extend that recommendation to you as well," he added, looking at Daphne. "And to your parents. If you really need to go out, be very careful."

"What?" she asked, frowning. "You think we're in danger?"

"I'm not sure, but better safe than sorry. I'll keep you informed," he said as he got up. He looked at Draco. "Can I use your Floo connection?"

Draco got up and nodded. "Yes, of course."

Ron shrunk the report and put it back in his pocket, then walked towards the fireplace and took some Floo powder.

"Auror Weasley, thank you," said Astoria with sincerity.

"Yeah, thanks," added Draco.

Ron nodded at them and stepped into the fire, emerging in the Atrium a moment later. He stood in there for a bit, thinking about what to do. What he had heard about Gerion looked promising, though if he was in prison … He moved towards the fountain, walking aimlessly, deep in thought. Could the blonde guy be related to Gerion? But, why would he attack the Notts, if Gerion had been closer to them than his own family?

He needed to know more, so he changed direction and ran towards the lifts, taking one to Level Two. He bolted out of the lift and hurried towards the Auror Office, almost running over an old wizard who sent him a few choice words. Ron yelled a 'Sorry!' over his shoulder but didn't stop.

"Where's Gallory?" he asked Katie Bell, after checking he was not in his office.

"In a reunion with the Minister, I think," she answered. "Are you okay, Ron? Did something happen?"

"No, no. Sorry, I've gotta go."

Not giving her time to respond, he marched towards the Legal Office.

"Is Hermione in there?" he asked Milton. He received a nod for response and, before the assistant could say anything else, he burst through the door. Hermione was bent over a book and almost jumped on her chair when the door slammed into the wall.

"RON!" she yelled, putting a hand to her chest. "You can't just walk into my —" she stopped herself. "Are you okay? Did something happen at the Malfoys'?" she asked with concern, her previous annoyance forgotten, as she got and rounded her desk to approach him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for that, I —" he noticed Milton on the doorframe, looking into the office.

"It's okay, Milton," said Hermione. "Close the door, please."

Milton nodded and did as told, leaving them alone.

Hermione grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him towards the small settee, gently forcing him to sit down. "What happened?"

Ron relayed quickly everything he had discovered to her. When he finished, Hermione bit her bottom lip. "You're right, this looks promising, but, if he's in prison …"

"I wanted to tell this to Gallory and Ada. He might bite my head off, but, if the victims are in danger of dying we've got no time to lose. However, he's in a meeting with Kingsley. What I'd like is to talk to this Gerion bloke. Even if he's in prison, he might know who's behind this, and why."

"Then let's do that," said Hermione, determined.

"Did you hear the bit about him being in a prison in France?"

Hermione smiled at him, rather smugly. "And when have such things been able to stop me?" she said, getting up. "Come with me."

She pulled on his hand, forcing him to stand up, and then she marched from her office with him in tow.

"Milton, I'm going to the Department of International Magical Cooperation. I'll be back soon, I hope."

"Okay, Ms Granger."

"The Department of —?" started to ask Ron, confused.

"Fleur was not the only French witch I talked about when preparing the Equality Law, Ron. I've got contacts in the French Ministry."

"Really?" Ron asked, grinning at her.

"Really."

"You're certainly amazing," Ron commented, making her blush a bit.

Once they were in the Department, Hermione directed them towards an office and knocked.

"Come in," said a male voice.

Hermione opened the door and walked in, followed by Ron. The office occupant, a tall man that Ron knew by sight, got up and smiled at them. "Hermione," he said, before moving his eyes to Ron. "And Ron Weasley. To what do I owe this visit?"

"Hi, Marcus. Sorry for interrupting you." She looked at Ron. "Ron, this is Marcus Wort. He is the Liaison for Legal Affairs with other European countries, and has contacts in almost all Ministries."

Ron nodded and shook the man's hand.

"Marcus, as you know Ron's an Auror, and he's following a clue that leads to a British wizard that was imprisoned in France long ago. We'd like to talk to him, as soon as possible."

Marcus listened to her attentively, and then nodded. "Okay. We can get in touch with Caroline Durcrois, he's very accommodating and you already know her."

"Yes, that might be awesome. She was really kind and helpful."

"In any case, she might need an official request."

"Yes, I had already thought about that. I'll write one if necessary."

"What's the name of the prisoner? Since 1948, we are informed of any citizen of Magical Britain accused of a crime in another country."

"Really?" asked Ron.

Marcus nodded. "Yes. In fact, as an Auror you have access to them. We always deliver a copy to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But well, as you're here, we can take a look at our copy."

"Good. Thank you," said Ron, a bit dumbfounded.

"Follow me."

They exited Marcus office, and he led them to a corridor full of doors. He opened one of them and they entered a large room full of filing cabinets. Marcus examined them, reading the little labels, until he found what he was searching and opened a drawer.

"The name, please?"

"Gerion Greengrass."

Marcus nodded and looked through the folders until he found the one he wanted and took it out.

"Here it is. Gerion Bertrand Greengrass, born in 1939 …" He opened the folder. Ron watched his eyes move over the parchments inside. "Yes, he was arrested on his flat in Paris on the 17th of February, 1973, accused of killing Jacques Dodelier. He was found guilty and sentenced to life imprisonment in a trial that took place on the 26th of that same February, and sent to the Castle of Almeigne," he informed them. "Well, with this we can now —" he started to say, but then interrupted himself and said instead, "Wait a moment."

"What?" asked Ron.

"He was released almost a year ago."

"WHAT!?" asked Ron, his heart beating furiously. "Really? But — wasn't he sentenced to life imprisonment?"

"Apparently he asked for a revision, and due to good behaviour and the fact that his sentence was considered too harsh, he was freed."

"Too harsh?" repeated Ron. "But he killed a man."

"If it happened during a duel, as Daphne told you, it's not the same as killing in cold blood or deliberately," explained Hermione. "In any case, if he's free …"

"He really might be the one behind this," finished Ron. Hermione nodded.

"Thank you so much," said Ron, shaking Marcus's hand once more. "You helped me loads."

"You're welcome," replied Marcus, smiling.

After saying goodbye to him, Ron and Hermione went to the lifts area.

"And what are you going to do now?" asked Hermione. "You don't know where he lived, do you?"

"No, but I know who does," he told her. "The Notts. I know they refused to tell us anything yesterday, but now we've got much more information."

"And I'll write you a warrant so they can't refuse you to talk to anyone," said Hermione. "Let's go back down for a moment."

Ron nodded and they took another lift. Back in the Auror Office, they checked Ada's cubicle and Gallory's office, but they were still empty.

"We'll talk to them later," said Hermione. "Let's go to my office."

"Ms Granger," said Milton as soon as he saw them. "Bernard Fosscault was here a moment ago. He —"

"Later, Milton, please," Hermione cut him in. "I'm in a hurry."

Ron and Hermione entered her office and she looked for some parchment. She began to write on it quickly, though with practised ease. Barely five minutes later, she stamped an official seal on it.

"Ready," she said. "Let's go?"

Ron frowned. "What do you mean, 'let's go'?"

"I mean that I'm going with you."

"Hermione, you can't come with me to a mission, you —"

"But this is not a mission, isn't it?" she countered. "I'm going as an official from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, to require the necessary information to prevent a crime. In fact, you are accompanying me," she stated, giving him a smug smile. "For my security."

Ron scoffed. "As if you couldn't hex them into next century, if one tried to attack you."

She gave him a cocked smile. "I could, but well, I didn't undergo Auror training after all. Now, should we?"

Ron nodded. They went back to the Atrium and, from there, Disapparated to Nott House. Hermione took a look around after they materialised.

"Nicer than the Malfoys'" she commented.

"Well, it doesn't look so ominous now. Draco and Astoria have their own part of the house, and it looks warmer."

"Really?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah. Astoria's touch, I reckon. She's rather nice, for a Slytherin."

"Daphne was rather stuck-up," pointed Hermione.

"She still is," confirmed Ron. "Let's go in."

Hermione nodded, and they approached the gates. She took out the parchment and lifted it. "Ministry of Magic. I require immediate entrance," she commanded, in a voice full of authority and which didn't admit a reply. Despite the situation, Ron got a bit turned on observing her.

The gates opened at once, and they moved towards the main doors. Just like the day before, they opened to reveal Theo Nott.

"Weasley," he said wearily. "And Granger as well this time," he added, with the slightest trace of disgust.

"Can I go in, Mr Nott, or will my presence contaminate your house?" she asked harshly.

"You can come in," he responded, moving to the side.

"I was going to anyway," she said as she stepped into the house, "but I like to be polite."

Nott screwed his face at her words, and Ron had to supress a desire to laugh.

"We want to talk to your aunt," Ron told him. "Is she home?"

"She is. Are you going to tell me what's going on? Everyone is acting even more strangely than these past days, which is saying something, and I'm tired of asking and not getting answers."

"You don't know?" asked Ron.

"No."

"Why are you here, Theodore?" asked Hermione. "It's not because your family wants to be together due to your cousin, isn't it?"

Theodore stared at her, clearly pondering whether he should say the truth or not. "No," he responded after a bit. "My grandfather told me we were in danger a few days after Isabelle was attacked. But no one explained me anything and I'm sick of it."

"Does the name Gerion Greengrass mean anything to you?"

Theodore blinked, looking at her. "I remember it from our family tree. He was a cousin of my father's, I think," he responded. "Why?"

"We need to talk to your aunt and your grandfather," was Hermione's curt reply. "And today, we're not taking a no for an answer."

"She is acting the strangest of them all," said Nott. "My uncle told us that that Mud — Muggleborn," he corrected himself quickly, "had died and that Isabelle was worse, and then she just left the room. Haven't seen her since."

"Call her," demanded Hermione. "Maybe it's time you know."

Theo, looking somewhat taken aback and more than a bit intrigued, led them towards the same drawing room, and then went to fetch his aunt. Ron and Hermione sat down on one of the couches.

"He knows nothing," whispered Hermione.

"Yeah. They kept their secret well hidden. I wonder how Gerion found out, if we're right about him."

Hermione nodded.

The minutes went on, and Ron started getting antsy. "You don't think they ran away, do you?" he asked Hermione.

"Where to? We're in their house, after all," said Hermione. "But if they —"

Her sentence was left unfinished as a door opened, and then Calista Nott walked in, followed by Theodore. She looked tired, distraught and seemed to have aged at least ten years since the day before.

"What are you doing here again, Auror Weasley?" asked Calista, her voice weary and full of sadness. "And with Hermione Granger no less. Why don't you do us a favour and leave us alone?" she asked with a slightly trembling voice.

"Was it worth it, Ms Nott?" asked Ron, perhaps a bit too harshly.

"What are you talking about?"

"We told you we'd get to the truth," replied Ron. "We know about Gerion Greengrass," he blurted out, and Calista couldn't dissimulate the surprise on her face. "But now it's too late, isn't it? Your son is already dead."

Calista didn't say anything, but her expression flickered, allowing them to see the deep pain underneath before she looked away.

"What!?" exclaimed Theodore, his eyes moving between his aunt and Ron and Hermione. "What are you talking about? What son? My Aunt does not have any son."

"Theo, leave us alone, please," Calista asked, her voice authoritarian despite being laced with obvious pain.

"No!" Theodore replied angrily. "I'm tired of this! Grandad told me to come home after that Muggleborn was attacked, telling me that our family was in danger and that we'd be safer here, but none of you explained why and I'm sick of it! What's what you're hiding? What's really happening?"

Ron and Hermione observed Calista, who seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Theodore, please, forget about this. There's —"

"STOP IT!" yelled Ron, tired of this game. "Your son is dead! Dead! And your niece could go the same way at any moment! Stop lying!"

"Ron," said Hermione in a calming voice, and he shut up, huffing in exasperation.

"Ms Nott, please," she begged in her kindest tone. "How many lives is this secret worth? Put an end to it, please. Tell us the truth."

Calista lowered her face, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Yet she still resisted, not saying anything.

"Your son died for this," insisted Hermione. "Was the reputation of your family worth it? Was it worth living without him, not seeing him grow up?"

"I only wanted to — to p-protect him!" Calista exclaimed at last, dropping onto the couch in front of Ron and Hermione and breaking into sobs. "Gordon was a M-Muggle and, having a son of a — a Muggle in t-those t-times … You don't know how that was! When F-Father found out he convinced me it was the best, for him and — and for the f-family," she explained between tears.

"Fucking Merlin …" exclaimed Theodore, his eyes as wide as saucers. "So, it's true? You really had a son with a Muggle? And grandad knew? What about my father? Did he know about this?"

"No," said Calista, now looking completely defeated. "He didn't live here by then, and we hid my pregnancy. Amadeus knew, though, but he kept the secret as well."

"But your cousin Gerion knew about it, didn't he? How?" asked Ron.

Calista nodded slowly. "He was closer to us than to his own family. He was the favourite nephew of my mother, and my father trusted him completely. He was very intelligent and resourceful, and quite powerful at magic, so Father asked him to take care of the child, to get him adopted by a Muggle family. We couldn't trust any magical family to do so. Father told me it was better if I didn't know about the details, but I couldn't stand the idea of not knowing. So I talked to him, and told him I wanted my son to have my Grandfather's name as a surname, as I had great memories of him. I also wanted him to grow with parents that would consider him their own blood. If one thing was ingrained in us Notts, was the importance of family and blood, and I wanted that for John. I wanted him to be loved and cherished. And Gerion complied. He found about a couple that had just died in a car accident, and he put a powerful spell on the woman's brother and his wife."

"The Smiths," said Hermione.

"Yes. He made them believe John was the son of the dead couple, though in reality they had no children. He also altered their knowledge of the dead man's surname, so they believed it was Malbard. He also took care of the Muggle documents. This way, the Smiths would believe the child was their nephew."

So that was how it had been done, thought Ron, nodding. And though he was horrified by the story and how far they had gone to hide the child, he was also impressed with Gerion's work.

"That is pretty powerful magic," commented Hermione, voicing his own thoughts.

"I told you, Gerion was a very powerful wizard," said Calista. "The Greengrasses suffer a curse that usually makes then weak and ill-prone, though it also can enhance their magic, consequence of a curse that started with an ancestor of theirs. I remember that my mother looked ill all her life, despite her energic character. But Gerion was blessed. He didn't suffer the ill effects of the curse,but was blessed with really powerful magic."

"So it's definitively him, isn't it?" he asked. "Gerion, I mean. He's the one threatening you."

Calista nodded. "We suspected, the moment Isabelle was found with those letters on her forehead, that it had to be him. Or someone on his name, because, as surely you already know, he was sentenced to life imprisonment in France for killing another wizard in a duel. However, when — when John was attacked, Father deduced he might have escaped, although we had not heard anything about it."

"He didn't escape," said Hermione. "He was released on good behaviour."

Calista seemed surprised by this. "Really?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, a year ago."

Calista remained silent for a bit, looking thoughtful, before continuing with her story. "Anyway, after we knew about John and believing that he was back in the country, Father asked the entire family to come here. Your friend was right about that: this house is ancestral and holds powerful magic that protects our family. The only kind of magic, he knew, that could stop a wizard as powerful as Gerion."

"But you didn't bother to tell me the truth!" yelled Theodore angrily, reminding everyone that he was still in the room. "You practically forced me to leave my flat and come back here! And all because you had an affair with a Muggle? I still can believe that, after everything I was told in this house! My father is in prison for fighting for our rights, and meanwhile you were whoring yourself to a Muggle!" he spat. Ron and Hermione gasped, but Calista's reaction was much harsher. She took out her wand, there was a flash, and Theodore's face was suddenly turned to one side, a red mark appearing on his left cheek.

"Fuck!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that ever again!" she yelled angrily. "I loved him!" she added, defending herself — perhaps for the first time in her life. "The months I was with him were the happiest of my life! The happiest! But I was a coward. A stupid, idiotic coward, and when Father found out what I had done I gave it all up for the sake of the family! For the Notts are an old pureblood family that couldn't afford to mix themselves with Muggles, and much less being in love with them, especially not when we were in league with the Dark Lord," she said bitterly. "So I complied to Father's demands, believing him when he talked about how sometimes sacrifices were necessary, as if he could know what he was talking about," she added bitterly. "And I renounced to my own happiness, to everything I had and was. I was a coward then and lost myself. And now, so many years later, I finally p-paid for it and lost my only son definitively … M-my only s-son …" she finished, and hugged herself while her body rocked due to the violence of her sobs.

Theodore moved towards the fireplace and put both hands on the mantelpiece, using it to support himself as he watched the flames. He shook his head, still too shocked.

Hermione, who was watching Calista with sympathy, got up, moved towards her and, sitting next to her, put a comforting arm around her, caressing her back soothingly. Calista seemed to flinch a bit, startled by the touch, but then relaxed into Hermione. Ron felt a burst of love for his fiancé. She had to be appalled by the fact that someone had abandoned their child in such a way, and yet there she was, comforting her. She had such an immense, caring heart.

"Why don't you drink some tea?" suggested Hermione gently. "It'll help you calm down." Calista just nodded, still sobbing silently. Hermione looked up at Theodore. "Theo, why don't you bring your aunt some tea?"

Theodore turned round, his cheek still reddened. At first, Ron was sure he was going to say something rude, and his mouth twitched a bit, but then he seemed to change his mind. "Pokey."

An instant later, an old elf Apparated before him and bowed.

"Sir called for Pokey?"

"Bring my aunt some tea, and some Firewhiskey to me," he ordered.

"Please," added Hermione, glaring at Theo.

Theodore's lips tightened into a very fine line, but he ended up adding, "Please."

Pokey bowed again and Disapparated.

"So you don't know anything about Robert Notte?" asked Ron, resuming their talk.

"I only know what I told you yesterday. He's a Muggle, the father of the first victim."

"And don't you wonder why Gerion attacked her, if his target was your family?"

"Father said that it was a hidden message," explained Calista, brushing her eyes. "That he had attacked her because of the similarities between our surnames, so when he attacked Isabelle we would know, without a doubt, that he was after us, even though the Ministry might not find a connection. But I'm not sure I believe it."

"You shouldn't," said Hermione, getting up and moving back next to Ron. In that moment, Pokey reappeared with a tray. She gave Calista a steaming mug and made a bottle and a glass float towards Theodore, who immediately poured himself a good amount.

"T-thank you, Pokey," said Calista, her voice hoarse. Pokey made another bow and Disapparated once more. Calista took a sip and looked at Hermione questioningly. "Why did you say I shouldn't?"

"Ms Nott, Robert Notte was abandoned in an orphanage in Southampton, in the middle of the night. The entire building was closed when it happened. It's obvious he was left in there by a wizard or a witch, and we think it was because he wasn't really a Muggle. We're rather sure he was a squib."

Calista almost dropped the mug she was holding. Some drops of tea spilled out and onto the table, but she didn't seem to notice. "What — what are you trying to tell me?"

"We are almost sure that Robert Notte was your older brother."

Theo's glass fell to the floor, exploding in thousands of pieces. The Firewhiskey stained his shoes.

"What!?" he exclaimed, whipping around. "A squib? How much dirt do you think you can throw over my family, Granger?"

"Well, that's what you grandfather must have thought, I imagine," replied Hermione dryly. "That having a squib son sullied the name of your family or some other bullshit like that, and they decided to get rid of it and tell everyone the baby had died. But why don't you bring him here and we get to the bottom of it?"

"I knew about my older brother, of course," said Calista, "though Mother didn't like to talk about him. We were told he died when he was only a few months old, so it was understandable. It's hard to believe what you tell me, Ms Granger."

"'Sometimes sacrifices are necessary,' isn't it?" repeated Hermione. "I suppose that, in the end, he really knew what he was talking about when he said that."

Calista looked at Theo. "Go and fetch your grandfather," she told him. Theo held her gaze for a moment, as if pondering whether to obey, but in then end left the room.

"Even if what you're saying is true, I don't know how Gerion could have known."

"Well, you told us your father trusted him completely."

"But when my brother died Gerion was just a child."

"Tell us about him," asked Ron. "I talked to Astoria and Daphne Greengrass, but they do not know much about them."

"No, they wouldn't," agreed Calista. "My mother didn't have a good relationship with his brother, Bertrand, or her parents. She used to call them cowardly hypocrites, saying that they had no qualms in enjoying the advantages of pureblood supremacy, but wouldn't move a finger to fight for it. Gerion, however, was different. I was still a child when he finished Hogwarts, but even before he used to come here in the summers and play with me and spend time with Mother. Uncle Bertrand didn't like that, though, and they used to row about it. In the end it culminated in a big fight and they parted ways definitively. Gerion left his house and came to live here, until he started going to France for long periods of time a couple of years later."

"I don't understand," said Ron, frowning. "He was closer to you than his own family, so why would he want to attack you?"

"That's what I asked Father, and he said he didn't know. I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth before, but, after what you've told me, I definitely don't believe him now."

"So he hasn't demanded anything? He didn't get in contact with you?" inquired Hermione.

"No," denied Calista. "As I told you, we weren't even completely sure he was —" Her sentence was interrupted by Theodore coming back, alone. Calista looked at him. "It was about time. Where's Father?"

"He wasn't in his room, so I asked Pokey. He was with Uncle Amadeus when he received a letter about ten minutes ago. I went in search of them, but I only found this," he explained, showing them a piece of parchment.

Calista took and read it. Though it looked impossible, her face paled even more. "They've gone to confront him," she told Ron and Hermione.

Ron quickly summoned the parchment and showed it to Hermione so they could read it together.

One down, two about to fall.

It's time we put an end to this game.

You know where I am.

"Fuck!" exclaimed Ron, getting up. "We need to go!"

"They'll take care of him," said Theodore arrogantly. "My grandfather is still a powerful wizard, Weasley. And Uncle Amadeus — well, he's not bad."

"He couldn't event manage to overpower Astoria attacking by surprise, and, by what your aunt said, Gerion is much more powerful!" yelled Ron.

"What are you —?" asked Theodore, frowning.

"Even so, he's alone," Calista cut in. "And yes, my father was powerful as well. He learned loads of Dark magic with the Dark Lord."

"But he's not alone!" shouted Ron.

"What do you mean? You caught that man, Goyle … he was his accomplice, wasn't he?"

"We don't know what Goyle's role is, but there're more people involved! This," he pointed at the parchment, "is obviously a trap! Fuck!" he swore, pacing the room. "Where have they gone? Do you know?" he demanded.

"The only place that comes to my mind is Gerion's old place. Father bought it for him as gift the first time he went to France. Although he's already gone there and it is abandoned."

"I've got a feeling today it won't be. Where is it?"

"Gerion called it Green Manor, and it's near the White Cliffs of Dover. If I remember well, it was a large house, but not really a manor."

"I'm going there," declared Ron, getting to his feet.

"What!?" asked Hermione, getting up as well. "Ron, you can't! You need preparation and —"

"There's no time!" replied Ron. "I'll call Harry and survey the place. You go back to the Ministry and send reinforcements."

"Ron —"

"Hermione, I'm an Auror, I know what I'm doing," he said in a tone as soothing as he was able to muster.

Hermione stared at him, and then, reluctantly, nodded.

"Can I use your fireplace?" asked Hermione, looking at Calista.

"Of course."

Hermione gave Ron a hug. "Be careful, okay?"

"I'm always are," he responded.

She gave him a quick kiss and moved towards the fireplace. Ron watched her move, and then an idea struck him.

"Hermione, wait!" he shouted, approaching her in long strides as she turned around to look at him. "Give me your wand."

"My wand?"

"I'll explain later."

Hermione gave it to him and, with one last look, vanished through the fireplace. Ron, without bothering to say goodbye, bolted out of the house at top speed. The moment he was outside the gates, he Disapparated.

Well, I really, really want to hear what you think!

I must say that it is not really my intention to portray Malfoy as a nice character. It's true that he has changed, but, contrarily to what other people think, the didn't change because he realised the error of his ways. True, he was not a murderer, but I remember that, at the beginning of HBP, he was rather proud of being a Death Eater. I always thought he was in the belief that, under Voldemort's rule, he would be some sort of prince that would walk among the crowds with people bending to him. However, the harsh truth is that he ended being nothing but another slave, and he realised that Voldemort was as prone to kill his enemies as his followers, and without regret. So yes, that and the horrors he saw made him change, but not because he was a good person.

Now, I really wanted to portray Astoria as nice and friendly, less prejudiced and aristocratic-like, and someone that would have a positive influence in him.

Now, I don't know if I should update this story next, instead of DO. There are only two chapters left and next one is the climax of the story. In any case, I'll try to update quickly, but give me your feedback!