Chapter 5
Pansy reclined back into the armchair, a slight smile playing across her lips. "Quid pro quo, Granger. What do you want to know?"
Hermione reflected for a moment and swirled the rich dark bourbon around her glass. She looked at Pansy, directly into her dark eyes, stalling for time. She had at least twenty questions for the black-haired witch but tried to rationalise them in her mind.
"How do you break an unbreakable vow? Harry is part of one," she whispered. "Him and Ginny Weasley."
Pansy raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Really? All the questions and this is it? You could perhaps ask how I found this house, or how I know of the magical map, maybe even my ultimate plan?
"Unbreakable vows, I can't find any references anywhere!" snorted Hermione indignantly. "How would you know of such a thing?"
"I am a pureblood Witch," came the cool reply. "Member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Married to another member of that exclusive club. I've known the answer to that question since childhood, the reason you can't find anything on that topic, is that it is so simple. Any pureblood would be able to tell you their limitations, their loopholes. A child could cast an unbreakable vow."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and swore under her breath.
"Either a party of the bond dies, or the bonder dies," said Pansy softly. "It works both ways. This is why they're taken so seriously, for it always results in death, in the end."
"Wizards are so illogical, but the one thing I need to help…" she paused, uncertain. Her eyes widened suddenly, and she snatched her wand from the side table. There came the sharp crack of apparition from the back garden, Hermione swiftly moved to the back door and stepped out, wand at the ready. Out of the gloom appeared Harry and Gabrielle, he had his wand readied and pointed it directly at Hermione's chest.
"What was the first thing you ever said to Ronald Weasley?" asked Harry, without a trace of emotion in his voice, his eyes cold.
Hermione thought for a moment. "Has anyone seen a toad?"
Harry immediately lowered his wand and grabbed Hermione into a tight hug, awkwardly stumbling over the doorstep. Gabrielle chivvied them into the sitting room, the back door slamming behind them.
"Ee needs to rest, 'Ermione," said Gabrielle, ignoring Pansy completely. She gripped Harry's arm, almost possessively.
"Drink first," murmured Harry.
Gabrielle rolled her eyes, Hermione supressed a snort of laughter, Pansy appeared not to hear and idly tapped her wand on her knee. "One, drink, then sleep," said Hermione. A swish of her wand and a short glass of Pernod zoomed over from the drinks cabinet, Harry grasped the tumbler with relish. He drained it in one, before Gabrielle led him by the elbow out of the room. Just appearing to notice Pansy, he staged an elaborate bow in front of her.
She inclined her head and offered her hand.
"Good evening, Mr Potter," she drawled as he kissed the back of her hand.
"Good evening, Mrs Macmillan,"
Gabrielle tightened her grip on Harry's elbow and led him more forcefully up the stairs.
"First door on the left," called Hermione from the sitting room.
The spare room contained little furniture aside from a king-size bed, wardrobe and dressing table, Harry's weekend bag was placed neatly by small chest of drawers. Harry slumped onto the bed and inched his way up to the pillows.
"Non, non," said Gabrielle softly. "Clothes, they come off," she flicked her wand as Harry tugged at his boots, before the charm took over and he was stark naked on the clean linen. Harry groaned and attempted to look at the two new scars on his chest, before another flick of the wand had him cocooned up in the duvet. Another moment and his head lolled to one side and fell into a deep sleep.
Gabrielle padded softly out of the room, extinguishing the lit candles with a wave of her hand. She entered the sitting room and regarded Pansy with some suspicion. Pansy ignored her, apparently unfazed with the look she was given. Gabrielle sat demurely onto the large sofa, Hermione moved up and took her hand in her own.
"Thank you, Gabrielle," said Hermione. She dabbed at her eyes before taking a deep breath. "How is he?
"En français," replied Gabrielle, shooting a look over to Pansy.
Hermione thought for a moment and shrugged her shoulders.
Gabrielle and Hermione spoke in French for a moment, seemingly to Hermione's satisfaction. The witches both stood, Gabrielle leaned in and kissed her friend on both cheeks before quietly leaving the room.
Pansy sighed in annoyance. "I am perfectly fluent in French, you should know."
"What do you want from me? Quid pro quo."
Pansy took a sip from her brandy glass and eyed Hermione beadily. "Draco Malfoy," she said. "I have ambitions, Granger. I want to be the next Minister for Magic. I lost narrowly in the Wizengamot vote to Greengrass as you well know.
"What has that got to do with Malfoy, of all people?" replied Hermione tersely.
Pansy looked up at Hermione. "You'll want to sit down for this. Do you smoke?"
"Occasionally."
"Now would be a good time to light up then." Hermione fished in her handbag, retrieved her cigarettes and lit one with the tip of her wand. She sat and eyed Pansy, who had done the same, but lit a panatella and exhaled with a sigh of contentment.
"Greengrass is under the imperius curse, most likely controlled by Draco, or possibly Greg Goyle. Certain is that Draco is the power behind him, everything is directed from Malfoy Manor. This I discovered last night at Draco's monthly drinks party.
"Bullshit," retorted Hermione. A wave of nausea swept over her, the memories of her last visit to Malfoy Manor, the last time the Minister for Magic was a mere puppet.
"New Minister for Magic, the new head of the DMLE, Antonin Travers, new head of International Cooperation, Marcus Flint, Department of Mysteries, Blaise Zabini, need I go on?
"Travers was in Azkaban!"
"Released and pardoned under an unsafe conviction. Think back a year ago, the deaths of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy."
Hermione nodded. "The report crossed my desk, natural causes. Dragon Pox if I recall."
"Of course, their passing certainly wasn't natural, but what it has done is give Draco the money and power he'd been desperate to have for years. His mother kept him on a short leash, but with them out of the way…"
"Not a chance, Macmillan, the reports were signed off by St Mungo's most senior Healer."
"Paid off by Draco."
"What's your point?"
"I want Draco's wings to be clipped again. Release Greengrass from the Imperius, I'll submit a vote of no confidence and we'll get a re-run of the Chamber vote.
Hermione considered this, flicked her cigarette into the ashtray and drained her glass of bourbon. "Why should I even consider this?
"It makes the charges against Harry go away. It makes the magical map go away. Most importantly for Harry, I believe that Ginny and Lily Potter are being held at Malfoy Manor. The bait, I told you about yesterday. Did you not believe me?"
Pansy glanced at her delicate sliver wristwatch and jumped up with a start. "I must leave. Tomorrow evening, Draco is hosting a supper for some members of the Department of Mysteries. I have a man on the inside. At 8pm precisely, the rune stone powering the Manor's protections will be frozen, for less than five minutes. Pansy inclined her head at her hostess, gathered her cloak and disappeared into the night.
Hermione frowned at the now vacant armchair. There had to be more to this than power, holding Ginny Weasley felt personal. Revenge? She mused for some time, before getting distracted by the empty glasses and half-full ashtray. The clean-up took a jab and swipe from her wand, she extinguished the candles and double checked the physical and magical door locks.
She stepped lightly up the stairs, pausing to glance through the door to the spare room, left ajar. The moonlight through the broken clouds illuminated the room in silver and grey, across the sleeping form of Harry, duvet kicked down, just covering his modesty. Next to him lay Gabrielle, also nude, face to face with Harry, her arm across her chest, his hand on the swell of her hip. Hermione sighed, pushed the door over and retired to her room. She undressed, pulled on a pair of pyjamas, slipped under the duvet and into an uneasy sleep.
Hogsmeade – Scotland – 0900hrs
Sergeant James Potter of the Hogsmeade Auror Office mustered his officers in the large atrium of the station. They snapped smartly to attention as he entered, he took a few moments to inspect each Auror Constable.
Satisfied, he picked up his clipboard from the front desk.
"Smith, Abbot, village patrol."
"Yes sarge."
"Zeller, Hopkins, Ford, Ramsay, Hogwarts gates and grounds."
"Miller, McShane, carry on with the burglary investigation. Henderson, front desk, Hamilton, custody desk."
"Yes sarge"
There was a sudden thump as the double doors of the station crashed open, in strode Auror Chief Inspector Seamus Finnigan, deputy head of the Scotland office. James made a double take, noticing the two grim-faced hit-wizards accompanying him.
"Chief Inspector!" exclaimed James. "We weren't expecting you, sir!" He glanced back at his officers; some were looking slightly uncomfortable. "To your duties, Aurors!"
James stood to attention in front of the burly Chief Inspection and saluted.
"To what do we owe the pleasure Sir?" asked James.
"I'm sorry about this son, orders from above," said Seamus, drawing himself up. "Sergeant James Potter, you are under arrest on suspicion of aiding and abetting a wanted criminal. You are further arrested on suspicion of misconduct in a public office." He took a deep breath. "You will surrender your wand and accompany me for questioning at the Ministry of Magic." One of the hit-wizards produced a pair of handcuffs, glowing with a soft gold light.
James blanched but slid his wand from his wrist holder, stepped forward and handed the blackthorn wand over. He looked down while Seamus passed the wand back to one of the hit-wizards.
"Mind if I get my bootlace?" asked James.
He kneeled, stole a glance up to see Seamus in an urgent whispered conversation with the hit-wizard, catching just a few words. "It's a fucking stick!" James took his opportunity and retrieved his spare wand from a leg holster.
"Incarcerous," he whispered, thick ropes shot from the wand tip, binding the three men together. He knew he had but a couple of seconds, there was a sharp crack and James disapparated.
Seamus shook himself out of the bindings, red faced and furious. He angrily looked around the atrium and eyed the remaining Aurors. He massaged his temples, knowing that he had completely botched the arrest, out with the rules just for the son of an old friend, guilty or not, to take in a fellow officer who probably wouldn't make any sort of fuss. Still, there were opportunities for learning, he pointed his wand at the nearest Auror.
"First rule of arresting a suspect?" he roared.
"Cast an anti-apparition jinx,"
"Then?"
"Cuff 'em, then get the wand,"
"Next?"
"Don't fall for the fake wand trick,"
"Very funny Constable," growled Seamus. "If Sergeant Potter is sighted, you are to contact the Ministry immediately. Do not attempt to arrest him. Furthermore, if one word of this leaves this room, you will all find yourselves guarding Azkaban before the day is out! Now get out there!"
The threat was met with gasps of horror from the officers, Seamus turned on his heel and left the atrium, the hit-wizards scurrying in his wake.
Cobham – Surrey – England – 1030hrs
Hermione knocked softy on the spare bedroom door.
"Just a minute!" came Harry's muffled voice.
Hermione sighed, waiting, feeling slightly annoyed. A minute passed and Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. She tapped the door again.
"Come in."
She poked her head around the door, she noticed the sheen of sweat on his brow, Gabrielle's hair looked unusually dishevelled, Harry attempted to smooth out the duvet before pulling it up to his chin.
"Breakfast will be ready soon, if you like," said Hermione. "I expect you'll have an appetite."
Harry nodded. Gabrielle stretched out luxuriously against him, the duvet falling away, revealing more of her body than Hermione was comfortable seeing. She brushed her hair from her face, looking entirely unconcerned at Hermione's narrowed eyes before cuddling back into Harry's side. Hermione shook her head and closed the door gently behind her.
"At least he had the decency to look guilty," thought Hermione acidly.
Sometime later Harry and Gabrielle joined Hermione in the sunny kitchen for breakfast. Harry poured himself a coffee from the gurgling percolator and sat at the breakfast bar. Spotting a half-drunk bottle of whiskey on the counter, he poured a generous splash into the black coffee. Hermione clicked her tongue disapprovingly, but Harry appeared not to notice. He lit a cigarette and swirled the coffee in the cup.
Hermione relayed her conversation with Pansy to her guests, Harry swore under his breath and took a deep slug of the coffee.
"I don't know, Hermione, this feels awfully like a trap. I need to find my daughter, but I won't walk into an ambush or worse," said Harry.
"Non, non, cheri," said Gabrielle. "There must be anuzzer way."
The sharp crack of apparition echoed from the garden, Harry rushed to the back door, wand ready.
"The hit-wizards are right behind me Dad!" shouted James.
Harry eyed the young man coldly and levelled his wand. "First Christmas present you opened, 2014?"
James didn't even pause to think. "My first real wand, blackthorn, dragon heartstring, 9 inches, springy."
Harry bundled James into the kitchen, slamming the back door shut with a flick of his wand before enveloping his son in warm hug. "We're safe and protected here, James. Dumbledore himself couldn't enter this house unless he was invited." He turned to Hermione. "We can do this tonight, if James is up for it."
"Do what?"
"Break into Malfoy Manor, rescue your mother and sister, clip Draco Malfoy's wings and get out alive."
"Nothing too much then?"
A/N: Sorry for the long delay in posting, next chapter coming soon.