Chapter 4
September 1997
"They have a network of officials and others with high standing in society that are being threatened, blackmailed, or outright Imperiused if they aren't loyal already. Each person in the Inner Circle, like Dolohov, is responsible for a piece of the network. Lower ranked Death Eaters like Bixley perform the actual Imperius Curse if necessary. This is how You-Know-Who implements his regime and quashes dissent." Tonks was reporting on the results of her interrogation. "The more strings they can pull, the more intricate their web and the more they control. The grip is getting tighter every day."
Seeing as the same tactic worked for Voldemort and his followers in the previous war, they were repeating the same strategy. The Order hadn't succeeded in stopping them back then, so why not? It certainly made sense.
"So just like last time," Hermione replied in aggravation, quill in hand. "How do we shut the web down?"
Remus eyed her and replied softly, "You kill the spider at the center."
She had the sneaking suspicion that he knew more than he was letting on. Kingsley shifted his curious gaze between her and Remus.
"Yes," she agreed slowly. "But seeing as we have no idea where You-Know-Who is, what else should we be doing?"
"For now we continue without change." Remus sat back in his chair and clasped Tonks' hand. "Ramp up efforts to bring in Death Eaters, Snatchers and the like, similar to how they've tried to bring in Muggle-borns. The larger holding facility at Pinner safe house is nearly ready." He rubbed his thumb along Tonks' knuckles. "Inner Circle would be preferable of course, but they are harder targets."
Hermione grumbled to herself. She had been arguing for their limited funds to be used for Portkeys and was overruled. The capture of Dolohov and Bixley, and the information they retrieved from them thus far, incentivized everyone except her to prioritize the expansion of Pinner.
Minerva took off her glasses, pointed her wand at the lenses and cleaned them with a nonverbal spell. After pushing her spectacles back up her nose she added, "Capturing Inner Circle Death Eaters like Dolohov would cripple their operations. Or, to continue the analogy, tear holes in the web. Ultimately, if we remove enough of them, we will eventually get to You-Know-Who. He'll be vulnerable and exposed. Even if we can't kill him, we can certainly contain him."
"Which brings us back to our interrogation problem," Tonks reminded them. "I'll do what needs to be done, but torture induced confessions are not always reliable." She leaned forward. "We need a Legilimens because Dolohov still won't talk. And even with one, assuming that some Death Eaters are halfway decent at Occlumency as I'm sure Dolohov is, we need to understand the problem with Veritaserum. Bixley didn't know how it worked, just that it would kill him."
Hermione looked up from the notes she was taking. "What about Mary Cattermole?"
"The Muggle-born Healer you rescued?" Tonks asked curiously.
Hermione nodded. "She might be able to figure out what the problem is with Veritaserum."
"Didn't you say she didn't want to be involved?" Remus recalled.
"She didn't," Hermione affirmed. "But I know she would sleep soundly knowing she removed our need to torture for information. Maybe it would incentivize her to stay on and help." She scratched a few notes to herself on the parchment she used for action items and ideas.
"An excellent idea, Miss Granger," Minerva nodded while Hermione removed some excess ink from her quill. "You know I don't want Poppy involved if we can help it, but I will make an exception if Mary requires anything from the Hogwarts' infirmary."
Hermione understood. Minerva was trying to keep the Hogwarts staff as removed as possible from Order efforts to prevent suspicion. Furthermore, the faculty needed to focus their efforts on protecting the children still at school.
"There's one more thing," Tonks added, looking down at her own notes for reference. "Bixley had two administrative assistants in the Department of Mysteries under the Imperius Curse. He's released them, seeing You-Know-Who would assume Bixley was dead anyway from Veritaserum exposure, but he didn't know why he was instructed to curse them."
"Is You-Know-Who still interested in prophecies?" Hermione asked. "I thought we had broken most of them back in my fifth year." She tried to think what else would be of value there. The room with The Veil? The brain tank? She didn't even know what those brains were for.
Tonks shrugged. "He didn't know. Dolohov might."
Minerva adjusted her glasses in thought. "Time turners. At the very least."
"They run the Ministry," Remus argued. "They could take them whenever they want. What's stopping them from doing so now?"
Kingsley gave a smug smile. "The Unspeakables aren't cooperating, and they can't be Imperiused. They'll need our support soon though. You-Know-Who will undoubtedly apply more pressure."
"Agreed," Remus replied, scratching a few notes on the parchment in front of him.
"We need Portkeys," Hermione reminded them.
Remus sighed and turned to her. "Bring me several pounds of rare potions ingredients, an Arithmancy genius or two-"
"Or the money to buy those things," Hermione interrupted.
"Or the money to buy those things," Remus amended. "And then all we have to do is wait a couple months for the potion to brew. Simple."
Hermione pushed her quill point into the parchment angrily, making a hole and staining the Tonks' kitchen table with ink. They were fish in a barrel without Portkeys. Maybe she should make them and find the ingredients. And wasn't there a black market? There must be. Maybe they could be reused in some way? She was tired of waiting.
The leadership discussed a few more issues pertaining to the lack of funding. Hermione continued taking notes, hoping that inspiration would come at a later time. She observed her old Transfiguration professor. Minerva was like her. Extremely particular in her note taking. Tiny, neat hand writing, straight lines filling her parchment. Tonks usually brought notes but never took any. She supposed Remus wrote for the both of them. Kingsley was normally silent during discussions unless he had something from the Ministry to share, and wrote nothing.
The meeting wound down and everyone stood to leave from Andromeda and Ted Tonks' house, which had served as the location for senior leadership meetings since the night the Order relocated Harry.
Remus looked directly at her. "Hermione, I'd like to speak with you privately."
She flushed as everyone else exited.
"Of course, Remus."
Tonks gave him a quick peck on the cheek before she left, and his face reddened when he noticed Hermione saw. She didn't want them to be embarrassed. Their affection instilled a sense of warmth and comfort within her. They deserved love. They deserved to be happy. She enjoyed seeing families, couples, people in love during this war. It brought a sense of normalcy and reminded her that life would return to what it once was when this was over.
Remus scratched his stubble and looked at her.
"You-Know-Who."
She swallowed nervously and he continued.
"After combat training at Paddington safe house, I saw something that I shouldn't have."
Hermione held her breath, not knowing what would come next. Based on his comment earlier, she wondered if he had figured out what they were up to.
"You, Ron and Harry all need to be more careful with this mission Albus gave you." Her heart beat rapidly. Remus knew. "I understand your need to write things down, but for this mission you should stop, lest your notes get into the wrong hands. It's not like the note taking during leadership meetings. The minute You-Know-Who finds out what the three of you are up to, we're through. Everything and everyone. We're done."
She released her breath. He was right.
She hadn't realized she had left her notebook out. Usually she was careful to keep everything Horcrux mission related in her beaded bag, which was stored under her bed. Perhaps she should Glamour or Disillusion her bag as well.
"I'll destroy everything tonight."
"Good." He removed a coffee ring from the table with his wand. "You also need a better cover story. Your absences have been noticed by some of the newer recruits. Hanging out in your bedrooms with Silencing Charms is one thing and there's plenty of excuses for that." She blushed furiously at what Remus implied, even though she hadn't done anything of the sort with either Ron or Harry. "But it's another matter entirely to disappear for two to three days with a vague explanation. We need a clear, defined task for you three to work on that will give you the freedom to move about without suspicion."
"That's a good idea."
Hermione felt chastened at how obvious they were being, but relieved to have Remus' advice nonetheless. She, Ron and Harry often felt helpless with regards to the Horcrux mission. It was critical to the success of the Order, and no one knew about it. Dumbledore had left it up to the three of them without much to go on.
Three seventeen-year-olds.
They had barely just come of age and the weight of the Wizarding world's future, in England at least, fell squarely on their shoulders. So far, they hadn't questioned the fact that no one else knew but them. It appeared that Remus agreed with Dumbledore's decision to keep it quiet.
"I suggest Durmstrang for your next trip."
She raised her eyebrows curiously. "Durmstrang? What for?"
"They have the largest dark arts library collection in the Wizarding world." Remus gave her a knowing smile. "At least, that we know of."
Hermione hadn't thought of that. The trio didn't have any information on Horcruxes except for what Dumbledore told Harry. She already combed the Hogwarts library before going into hiding and found nothing. The aversion Hogwarts had to the Dark Arts was crippling in their fight to destroy something they didn't understand. Pulling bits of information from conversations and memories was not enough.
She wondered if Malfoy would could help with their Horcrux search.
"That's a brilliant idea, thank you Remus."
She felt somewhat abandoned in that they couldn't consult a wiser and more experienced person regularly. It was fortunate that Remus had discovered her notes and had some advice to give, but she couldn't repeat her mistake.
He cleared his throat. "You asked about long-term strategy, Hermione. You asked how we are going to win. That's how we'll win. The job of everyone else here simply amounts to enabling you, Harry and Ron to do yours. Now," He glanced at her wand and then back up at her, somewhat nervously. "Obliviate me."
ooooooooooooooooo
Can you meet?
Draco glanced at the warm Galleon in disdain. Granger needed to be subtler than this. She lucked out in that she caught him alone outside after flying. Ironically, while up on his broom, he had been thinking precisely about the recent turn of events. She asked him if he would leave. Even though he refused, she obviously didn't believe him. But that wasn't really what she was asking him. Dumbledore had offered to hide him and his family, and that chance had come and gone.
He blew it.
It wasn't as if his father would go into hiding anyway, and Draco couldn't abandon him. Leaving wasn't an option.
This was something else entirely. She wanted him to spy for the Order.
And then like an idiot with his pain addled body and head disoriented by potions, he'd gone and given her information about the Veritaserum before thinking through the consequences. If there was any doubt as to what her intent was before, and how he would reply, he had pretty much sealed it.
There was no doubt about it now, spying was on the table.
Draco wanted out. Him and his parents. But he didn't know how. Would spying improve his chances or worsen them? Talking with the Order would certainly change his situation. And one thing was certain, things couldn't stay the same. He'd be going back to Hogwarts in less than a week where Alecto Carrow was teaching and then his father would be the only one to protect his mother from MacNair.
Draco thumbed the Galleon.
Where?
The reply came immediately.
Fortescue's.
He did a double take. She would be arrested. She was Undesirable Number Two. He had seen her picture and Potter's plastered around Diagon Alley along with other known members of the Order of the Phoenix listed among the undesirables.
How would they even meet there?
She'd probably come Polyjuiced.
He considered what might happen if he met a Polyjuiced Granger in the middle of Diagon Alley. What if someone was following her? What if someone saw through her disguise? Draco exhaled. If he waited too long or thought about the consequences of his actions too much he'd back out. He had better go now before he lost his nerve.
He wrote back:
Half hour.
Things had to change. But he needed to be cautious, he should get there early, much before her.
Walking back up the steps of the East entrance of the Manor two at a time, he quickly pointed his wand to his gloves and muttered an accelerated abrasion charm, ruining them instantly. He heard his parents arguing in hushed voices in the tea room and stepped back, pausing to listen.
"- won't send him back there. I don't like how that vile Carrow woman looks at him."
He held his breath and strained to listen.
"Cissy, I hardly think he'll be safer here."
"At least we're here to watch over him."
"I don't think watching over our son's torture is what you had in mind."
"That woman is sick and has been salivating over him since Dumbledore's death."
It had been earlier than that, but at least his mother had noticed.
"If I were him, I would choose an unwanted affair with a reasonably attractive older woman over the occasional Cruciatus Curse. He might even learn something."
Draco's gag reflex kicked in at his father's words and he inhaled slowly to suppress it.
"It doesn't matter how attractive she is!" she hissed angrily. "It's more than that and you know it! You've seen what she does with the prisoners, Lucius. To the children! She's almost as bad as my sister! Do you think Draco being a Pure-blood will protect him?"
There was a pause. He waited for his father to answer.
"Severus will be there."
"And he helped so much last year! This year will be worse."
There was another pause. He heard his father pacing across the rug.
"I could teach him to replace me. He wouldn't be expected to demonstrate… results for quite some time. If he were groomed for the more political tasks, his participation in raids would be considerably less. Perhaps only in the major ones."
He heard his mother sigh in relief.
"Thank you, Lucius."
There was another pause.
"He'll have to use the Imperius Curse. Not a one-off like with that girl at Hogwarts. You know what that means."
He leaned against the wall, trying to hear better. He didn't understand what they meant. Cursing Madame Rosmerta and Bell hadn't been difficult at all after he practiced on Muggles. It wasn't anything like his failures with the Cruciatus Curse.
He heard his mother click her tongue. "I don't want him using Unforgivable Curses at all, Lucius. You remember what they did to you in the First War. It took you months-"
"He's a man now, Cissy," his father cut her off. "You can't shelter him any longer. He'll be expected to."
He heard his mother exhale in anger. "It's still preferable to going back. She'd have him doing Unforgivable Curses there anyway."
A pause.
"You're sure about Alecto?" his father asked.
His mother's voice lowered menacingly. "I want to claw her eyes out." He had never heard her speak with such hatred before. "See for yourself next time she's here."
The surge of affection for his mother was immediate, and he agreed that staying home at the Manor would be the lesser of two evils, Dark Lord or no. There was something wrong with Alecto. At least Draco wasn't the focus of the Dark Lord's attentions, like he was hers. He was simply one of many Death Eaters that were currently failing him.
The way Alecto stared at him made Draco want to vomit, and she always tried to feel him up. At Hogwarts, they'd be alone together. Something he had managed to avoid so far.
"I believe you, Cissy."
There was silence for a few moments and then his parents began discussing meal plans for the rest of the week. After determining enough time had passed that they wouldn't suspect he'd been eavesdropping, he strode past, stopping in front of the entryway of the tea room. His parents turned to face him. Neither appeared as if they had just been discussing whether it was preferable for him to be merely tortured by the Dark Lord, or raped and… whatever else Alecto wanted to do with him, or make him do to others.
His determination to see Granger only intensified.
Something had to change.
"I'm heading to Diagon to pick up new Quidditch gloves. Can I get either of you anything?"
"No thank you, Draco," his mother replied and walked over to him.
"We have some things to discuss after dinner," his father announced, giving him a disapproving once-over. "You're going to Diagon dressed like that?"
Draco looked down at his sweaty Quidditch uniform. He wouldn't have time to shower if he wanted to get there before Granger. "I need to see what will fit properly. There's some new equipment that's arrived as well."
Even though he was a good six inches taller than his mother she still managed to look her nose down at him.
She sniffed. "At the very least, Scourgify yourself."
He did, aiming the blast away from her and out the open door. After Draco was passably clean, she leaned up to press a cool kiss to his cheek. She cupped his jaw fondly and he gazed over her head at his father who had a small, rare smile on his face.
The Dark Lord hadn't been at Malfoy Manor for a few days. Despite his parents' previous topic of discussion, everyone in his family was perceptibly more relaxed than when he was physically present at the Manor. Even if Nagini was still on the Manor grounds somewhere slithering around, they could still enjoy a dinner together. At least with the nice weather, the giant snake preferred to be outside.
Draco kissed his mother back and nodded good-bye to his father. Pulling his gloves off with his teeth, he strode quickly towards the Floo, summoned a few Galleons and shoved the ruined gloves in his pockets.
"Leaky Cauldron," he called out while throwing the Floo powder.
Draco stepped out into the pub in a whoosh of green flames. Surveying his surroundings, he noticed the atmosphere was considerably more subdued since the Ministry had been overthrown. Everyone appeared fearful and worried.
Shaking the ash out of his hair and turning on heel, he strode out into Diagon Alley, making his way to the ice cream shop while surreptitiously checking for a large brown mess of hair. He'd come back for new gloves after his meeting with Granger.
He entered Fortescue's to see a young mother and child in the corner, sharing a sundae, but no one else. The mother was dotingly wiping the mouth and rosy cheeks of the child as vanilla ice cream dribbled everywhere. He smiled at her affection. Definitely not Granger. Draco approached the counter, ordered a scoop of strawberry and a scoop of chocolate and paid with a Galleon, telling the vendor to keep the change.
Taking a seat in the corner so he could face the shop, he spooned the ice cream into his mouth slowly, peering out the windows while keeping an eye the entrance. He savored the taste of the chocolate on his tongue, and then took another spoonful, mixing it this time with the strawberry. After a few minutes, a small blond girl shyly walked in, probably not even old enough for Hogwarts. Staring up at the menu and fidgeting with the hem of her robe, she didn't even send a side glance his way. She looked like she was too timid to even order for herself.
He smirked. Definitely not Granger.
Draco watched the occasional customer come in, place an order and then leave. No one else stayed, but he was still early. The girl sat at a table next to him, swinging her legs and digging her spoon into a gigantic bowl filled with ten colorful scoops of ice cream. He smiled wistfully, acutely missing the carefree days of childhood.
She smiled up at him with a toothy grin, already missing a few pearly whites. "Cherry's my favorite!"
"Oh yeah?" He raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm torn between chocolate and strawberry myself."
She scrunched her nose at his ice cream with disgust. "Only wankers like chocolate."
He snorted a laugh. This one had a mouth. "What does chocolate have to do with being a wanker?"
She licked her spoon. "My brother's a wanker and chocolate's his favorite." She peered up at his face and scrunched her nose again. "You look like him."
"Does your mum approve of you using language like that?"
"My brother always says 'wanker.' Why can't I?"
Draco snorted again.
His mother wouldn't hesitate to give him a light stinging hex to the rear in those days for cursing. Even now he would get the occasional smack upside the head. Speaking of which, he wondered how safe it was for such a young girl to be wandering around on her own in times like this.
"Where is your mum?" He craned his neck, searching through the windows of the shop. "You shouldn't be here alone."
"In Madame Malkin's." She looked up at him with innocent, big blue eyes and blinked. "I'm a nuisance and have to wait here for her."
He laughed, remembering the days when his mother would do the same with him. "I bet you are."
She sniffed in his direction. "You stink."
He sent her a scolding glance. This one really did have a mouth. "Didn't have time to shower."
She returned to licking the cherry ice cream off of her spoon and started swinging her legs again.
The mother and daughter in the corner left, leaving the shop empty for the time being, and the cashier went into the back to take a break. Draco shifted his posture to keep an eye on the entrance when the girl stood up, accidentally knocking her ice cream onto the floor with a splat.
She turned to him, blinking those big blue eyes of hers. Did she seriously expect him to clean up her mess? Her mum could do it when she got back. Or she could get the lazy cashier back from his break.
Her lower lip trembled and she stared at him pleadingly.
He was not going to clean that mess up.
She made a small whimpering noise, almost ready to cry.
Aw hell.
"Hold on, kiddo. I'll help you with that."
Grumbling loudly, he summoned some napkins and crouched down on the ground to start wiping the ice cream off the floor. He couldn't believe this. After trying to pick up her bowl while getting as little ice cream on his hands as possible, he heard a muttered 'Expelliarmus.'
Draco's wand slipped out of his grasp while siphoning up her ice cream. He snapped his head up to see a devious toothy grin.
He narrowed his eyes.
Granger.
"You really do stink, Malfoy."
She dug her fingers into his bicep and Disapparated them.
Chapter end notes:
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