Chapter 5: That's Impossible

"That's impossible," Hermione breathed. She wished so much Theo hadn't chosen Touch to give up since she desperately wanted to grab his arm and inspect the stuck compass.

"For another eighteen months it is," Draco added.

Hermione blinked. Theo looked between them deciding who to answer first. His loyalty chose Draco.

"I'm sorry mate, this isn't how I thought things would go when they sent me here."

"Wait-" Hermione screwed her eyes closed and shook her head slightly as if clearing it. "They sent you here? Specifically here?"

"Yes, I lied when you first opened the door. If you hadn't just woken up, you probably would have realised."

"Is it me? You're hunting me?" Hermione tried to make sense of how the compass was unmoving now, it was still pointing at her in a most accusing fashion.

Theo shrugged. "I think so, or at least you in this house."

"You're hunting my wife?" Draco sounded perplexed; Hermione knew he would hate that. "I'm guessing you're both Department of Mysteries?"

They couldn't answer but that in itself was enough.

"Right," Draco gulped a swallow of gasoline-hued whisky. "But you didn't know each other before meeting here?"

The sentence whispered into the air with a small parasitic fear attached to it. His shadow shivering in the flickering firelight.

"No, we didn't," Hermione reassured him. "I don't… I'm not- what I do is very different to what he does."

"But you can't tell me what?" Draco seemed hurt.

She nodded; her look of apology tried to settle around him in a hug. The tealight extinguished itself and Hermione watched curiously as the smoke curled into the air and drifted as if drawn, unthreatened to the man beside her. She would take the house's opinion into consideration since it seemed to think she should be open with him.

"Does he know?" There was a gremlin-like jealousy that bared its teeth with the words. Draco's movements were a little too particular, bones creaking with a stiff envy as he changed position on the couch slightly away from her. His gesture to Theo followed by another sinking of alcohol.

"Nah, I have absolutely no clue what she is or what she does. Had no idea she was part of the Caisson- the Department," he corrected. "And to answer your earlier remark. No, it's not impossible for the compass to stop on you if-"

"I'm not," she cut him off. It was an accusation she had heard too many times when people were impressed by her capabilities and then became wary of them. "I was even put before the Exophagy. I'm not a changeling."

"They went that far? Why didn't they believe you?" Theo tried to assuage the sparks of fury that had entered the conversation.

He'd accepted it easily, so she calmed down, the hearth plucked out a cracking ember as if backing her up.

"I'm Muggle-born, so of course I can't possibly be as powerful as I am. Of course, I oughtn't have magical reserves as large as I do. Of course, right? And while there has been a small correlation between Muggle-borns and changelings, absolutely not enough to be reliable and if they would just let me-"

But Draco stroked her arm gently, stopping her ranting delineation of the political structure of the DoM. Her bunched-up shoulders made an elevator shift downwards. She gave him a tiny smile making him smirk, a balance restoring in him that he knew when she was about to embark on a Iliadian-level diatribe.

"They think because you're Cailleach Bhéara-touched you must be fey?" Theo guessed but Hermione shook her head.

"No, they know why I am capable of that. It's everything else I can do," she took another sip not wanting to elaborate. She wasn't sure she should say. Technically he was hunting her, all of this would end up in a report and she didn't want to become too much of an asset. If they figured out how much she could take into the Leylands they'd send her away all the time until her Envincing took place and she held her own jurisdiction. They'd use all her time in multiple instances, she'd have none for herself let alone Draco.

Unfortunately, Theo was clever, and his eyes chased dust motes in the air, his head moving slowly and carefully. To take advantage of her winter creation, Hermione was sinking the house into sunset and those which lived in perpetual twilight were able to be seen, only if you looked. Theo's mouth opened a little and an incisor bit down onto his lip. He saw what they were.

He'd figured it out.

"Don't," she pleaded. She grasped Draco's hand and he kissed it understanding she was protecting him.

"I have to be here for at least two more years. I won't leave him." If she left, forced into it by the Caisson, she knew that the press would be quick to turn Draco and his mother into villains again. Her sudden disappearance and lack of explanation would be tabloid fodder for months. This was no mere speculation, she'd seen it.

The withered nixie of her loneliness clawed its way up her spine using each vertebra as a convenient handhold. They were teetering on cliff edges of knowledge she couldn't divulge to anyone. Safe, plain space or a dangerous freefall. She'd carried the burden by herself, the only people able to understand other Spooks, but they were also the peril she was so cautious to hide from. And she'd gone and let one in her house. One that was hunting her.

Theo swilled the whisky around in his glass, regarding it. He knew she could read him so refused to look at her. Her warmth held a tinge of acid now, a sizzling hiss that ate at her in yearning. He was so very handsome. Far too confident, but very handsome.

"They'd give you to me, if I asked. If I showed them what we created," he brought out the lachrymiform, a bright crystalline jewel resting in his palm. "I've never had someone meld to my magic before, I've been holding off being partnered up as long as I can."

He sighed. "Because I want it so badly, I won't," he dropped his head over the back of the chair. "I should have chosen Pain, because this is fucking bollocks."

Hermione exhaled and Draco squeezed her hand where he still held it. She knew the solo Unspeakables, the Farouche as they were known, were practically being forced to form bonds. Even with malaligned magics at times. The current philosophy being engaged by the Gymnasiarchy that having a partner would help halt the attacks that were killing the Farouche.

"I get why the house went to such extremes though. I had no idea how much you were protecting here," Theo brought himself forward again and poured more whisky, topping up Draco when he held out his tumbler, too. The burbling of liquid splashing into crystal seemed to diffuse some of the tension.

"What will happen if I ask that we please, for all the gods' sakes, speak plainly?" Draco's patience had run out. He hated not knowing things or being out of control.

Theo chuckled. "Well, usually we wouldn't have even been able to get this far without another Spook coming in and Obliviating you."

Except Hermione was keeping them safe. Nothing came to her house that she didn't want.

Theo sent a look to Hermione and she nodded. They could trust Draco. When it came to important things, he knew how to keep his mouth shut. And the house approved him knowing.

Draco huffed and they waited for him to ask what he wanted; he'd respond better if they let him direct the conversation.

"Can I expect you both to be honest with me now?" was what he settled on first.

"Yes," Hermione stroked his hand with a thumb. Then she shifted her glance to Theo. He was being careful again. There was a tension in him, a rebellious set to his spine and she thought he might be afraid of the same things she was.

"No reports," she told him.

He nodded, agreeing. The darkness was back in his eyes. "I won't tell the Gymnasiarchy anything if you don't. I don't fully trust them at the moment."

Hermione tilted her head and widened her eyes letting him know that was a given. They'd been even more shifty than usual lately. As he seemed amenable to go against orders, she relaxed the charms that hid what she was doing. The house sank further in the ley line.

They both turned to Draco, waiting again.

"And the Gymnasiarchy is…?"

"High Council of the Department of Mysteries. When you hear of wizarding law being usurped by a decree from the DoM, that is the Gymnasiarchy's doing," Hermione replied, and Draco nodded.

"So, you both work for them? They send you on your missions, Theo?"

"Yes, they give me anomalies in the fabrics of the realms to go chase and report back on. Sometimes I need to collect whatever it is or just let it be. I help them accumulate knowledge, I guess," Theo was trying to make it simple, but there was so much base information needed to make themselves properly understood.

Draco took another drink, brow furrowed. "Can you give me an example of what you do? Like, why were you sent here?"

Hermione settled further into the couch, legs tucking up underneath her. She wanted to know this, too. She wiggled a toe against Draco's hip to tell him it was a good question, he squirmed away from the tickling sensation. He smiled though.

"There was a spike in ley line energy here about a month ago. That happens occasionally but the energy didn't dissipate, it stayed constant. So, they had me come check it out. They only give us Portkeys, so I was quite surprised to find I was familiar with the place. Even more surprised to not find you here, Draco. I thought it would be some old Malfoy ritual or something. But nope, it was just Hermione."

Hermione screwed up her nose at his cheeky grin. Just her luck they'd sent an Unspeakable that happened to have permission to see beyond the wards. Anyone else would have only found a faerie circle and dismissed it as a Leylander crossover that would fade in time.

Draco had turned to her. "And what do you do then? I see you enough that I know you're not gallivanting around looking for anomalies."

She wouldn't tell him that with the Time-Turner hidden in the hollowed-out shrunken Galleon around her neck she could very well gallivant all she liked and still see him as often as she did.

"I'm what's called an Acatalept and-" she was suddenly cut off by Theo.

"What? Really? Sansarra finally chose a disciple and you're it?" he was leaning on the edge of his seat looking over her with sparkling verdelite in his eyes, the awe obvious. His cheeks coloured a little at how excited he was.

"That's a big deal?" Draco asked.

"The biggest deal, she's a bi-millennium acquisition. Even longer this time since Sansarra refuses to give the post up, has notoriously not deemed anyone worthy for over a century. She even turned down Dumbledore. Oh wow, you're the only person allowed to partake of the Philosopher's Stone! Or will you use the Fountain of Youth instead?"

Hermione was flustered, she hadn't expected Theo to know that much about her position. Most just thought the Acatalept was the Keeper of Mysteries, a librarian. In reality, they were what made the Department of Mysteries possible, the beating heart and personification of the Unknowableness Of All Things To A Certainty.

The hearth crackled in surprise and she turned her head to it, laughing at how embarrassed it sounded. The house thought it had jumped to conclusions now regarding Theo but the magics lasted a lunar year so he still wouldn't be able to touch her until the stasis could be unbound.

The flames softened themselves when their light reached him. He was mortified. Eyes wide and hand over his mouth as he ran over what he'd been saying to her. Only now realising how arrogant some of his statements were.

Becoming a Farouche so young was certainly impressive but the Acatalept was a being beyond even the Gymnasiarchy. When Sansarra began her Fade after the Envincing, Hermione would no longer have to heed their word at all, and she only did so now in the barest capacity.

"Just what the world needs, my swotty, righteous wife living forever," Draco's words were full of mirth.

She patted his arm. "Don't worry, I'm thinking I'll break tradition and head into Spring when Harry dies."

"You can't do that, what about the next Acatalept? You have to train them," Theo sounded outraged.

"I already know who the next one is, her name's Lyra."

"She's already training?"

Hermione's laugh tinkled in the space and the house made a guttural groan as it joined her.

"No, no. She hasn't even been born yet."

Theo looked around again and gave a slow nod. He understood why now. So very clever.

His erudite gaze came to a lulling rest on Draco. "Right, that makes sense. I thought you might be doing all this for him."

"Me?" Draco asked, pointing a finger to his chest.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, for you and… well, it's for Astoria, too."

Draco's eyes flicked from side to side, figuring it out.

"Whatever you did here that triggered Theo's arrival, that was just a couple weeks after the Greengrasses came back," the puzzle pieces were slotting together in his mind. "What is this place?"

Hermione could tell Theo was awash with vaporous theories. As attracted to her as he had been before, discovering she was the Acatalept had turned her into a siren. Now when the sparkling and seductive intellect in his eyes became enraptured upon her, he was pulled in, captivated by everything she did with sonorous enchantment. She was now irresistible. And his impatience caused King Tantalus to hold court in her cottage, rendering them stretched with longing.

A flicker entered his gaze. A crack, fissured and jagged. He was right, he should have taken Pain away.

"It's a cocoon," Hermione finally replied. She whispered a spell and a tingle of magic fizzled over Draco. He blinked and looked around, breathing in deeply.

"I can… taste the air?" Draco twisted his wrist slowly in front of him, eyes widening as his skin absorbed the delicious particles of the room.

Theo stood and went to the window looking outside as the ianthine light of the Leylands permeated the lawn outside. Hermione gently drew Draco up from the couch to join his friend. She had given him the ability to see that which hides, and he blinked in surprise, lips curling in a curious delight.

The lavender crepuscular of the third Leyland realm sifted in ombred hues caressing the glacial kingdom Hermione had created earlier. The iridescent additions Theo had given it creating an idiocrasis that, as the alien reality slowly descended upon them, had drawn even more of the tiny beings Hermione was gathering in the cottage.

"Why are you collecting Seelie sprites?" Theo asked her as they watched through the bay window while tiny glittering specks flitted between the structures, their glee evident in their haphazard and excited movement.

Hermione smiled at their amusement. "I need them to remove a blood curse. From what I can tell, it's the only way it can be undone."

Draco squeezed her hand, unable to say anything. There had been whispers for years about the Greengrasses and how they appeared to have an unfortunate affliction for their women to succumb to untimely deaths.

As soon as Hermione met Astoria, she saw the anathema coiling around her, juxtaposed so starkly against her bright spirit. And seeing the tenderness and light the woman possessed when looking at Draco, Hermione vowed to relinquish the awful fate from her new acquaintance.

"Won't it be dangerous for so many of them to turn into Maladoxies?" Theo questioned. His voice was winsome and candied, a sugary thickness to it mixed with a crunching gravel as he felt her gesture deep inside him. She knew this was a considerable declaration of how much she cared for Draco and she blinked back a welling of emotion.

"No, she won't even notice. Only some will be given the directive of switching to a Maladoxy, the rest will be Remedowny," Hermione explained. Seelie sprites had a unique characteristic of changing form depending on intention. It would still take a long while, but the Maladoxies would consume the blood curse Astoria suffered from and the Remedownies will knit the parts of the witch's aura that the scourge will have torn in its extraction.

"So, it's true… that the Greengrasses have some sort of inherited bane on their line?" Draco asked her.

He sounded so casual, it belied everything he felt underneath. Hermione knew there had been a closeness with Astoria in their sixth year, a friend Draco had with whom he could just be. No judgment or expectation or politics. Astoria had never pried or tried to make Draco give more than he could at any time, she'd just been there to care and distract.

When the family had come back, having absconded to Europe to avoid the war, Hermione had noticed the change in Draco's regard of the witch. She was no longer the kind younger sister of his good friend, she was an elegant, sophisticated woman. One that still looked at him like his health and wellbeing were most important to her. A woman who had hugged Hermione and thanked her with genuine grace that their marriage had made Draco happy.

Hermione had spent most of that dinner speaking with Astoria. It was the first society event where Hermione hadn't felt woefully out of place. With Draco's bashful admission that he'd felt sparks of romantic attention towards her, Hermione immediately began work to remove the dark pestilence that burdened her new friend.

"Yes, it is true. I'm so sorry," she drew an arm around him and leant her head on his shoulder. "But I'm sure in what I'm doing. It will work."

Draco's eyes found hers, an inky lagoon daring not to shift in the twisting maelstrom he was internally tangling with.

"Thank you for taking care of me so much, Hermione," he kissed her hair and brought both his arms around her.

She smiled up at him, it was wavering though. Again, she felt that horrible nostalgic throb of missing something. With Theo it had been for that had not yet materialised, now it was for something that wasn't yet gone.

She missed it all the same.

Draco was looking at her intently and caressed her cheek in gratitude. His eyes flicked behind them quickly. Theo was still in awe, watching as the cottage slowly sank further into the twilight of the Leylands.

"How can I take care of you the same way?" Draco whispered.

Hermione looked up at him, taking in the way the violet illumination from outside the window reflected so brilliantly against the pallor of his pale skin, turning him elfin and striking.

She shrugged and he brought her to him.

For once, she had no answers.