Disclaimer: Still not mine. I can't even say I own the concept of a Cassiopeia Malfoy per se, in even a loose fandom-sense.

Cassiopeia

By Kylia

Chapter 7

April 26th, 2003

Ministry of Magic, Level 2

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Hermione had ended up taking a quick trip to Diagon Alley to find a sandwich to take back to the office to eat while she worked. Going over the lists of everyone involved in construction, ownership, financing and management of all the properties Lucius Malfoy had been looking at and might have been planning to visit - might have visited, before getting shot - was time consuming. Cross referencing those lists with people who had grievances against the late, probably to be mostly unlamented pureblood had taken even longer.

Hermione hadn't been able to avoid the thought that it was futile, since so many people had reason to hate the man, but still. In her experience, it took a special kind of hate to kill someone.

At least if you were killing for hate.

But that's the most likely reason someone who would think to get, and know how to buy, a gun, would kill a man like Lucius Malfoy.

Murder was not, as some called it, a senseless act. Usually, in Hermione's experience, most crimes, murder included, made a great deal of sense - to the person committing the crime. While there were, depending on how you looked at it, as many reasons to kill as there were emotions a human could have, or nearly so, it usually came down to money, to cover up a crime, or some sort of crime of passion.

For it to be about money, the killer would have to be someone who would gain from Lucius Malfoy's death - but assuming the man's will was conventional, the vast majority of his money would go to his wife and daughter.

And it's unlikely they did it. Not impossible - Cassiopeia may very well have been out of the country, but she could have hired someone, and Narcissa could have done the same. But given their demeanor, and everything she'd ever known about the Malfoy's home life, such as it was...

She couldn't see either of them killing Lucius Malfoy, and certainly not for money. And there was no one else who was likely to have gained enough from Malfoy's death - directly, anyway.

It's possible there's someone he did business with that decided they could make more money with Lucius Malfoy out of the picture. Still, she deemed it relatively unlikely given the information at hand, and the murder weapon.

Covering up a crime... she had no reason to believe that was the case, even without the gun involved. It was possible, and Hermione knew she had to try to keep an open mind, but then there remained the issue of the gun.

Which left some sort of crime of passion, and that meant revenge or hatred, or something related to a grievance against Malfoy for his past conduct in the two Wizarding Wars...

I can't stay married to the idea if the evidence begins to point elsewhere, and yet...

It was not impossible a pureblood or wizarding-focused half-blood might learn about guns and decide to use one - Arthur Weasley was not completely alone in his fascination with muggle technology, especially in the last few years - but again, the odds were greater that using a gun might occur to muggleborns or those half-bloods that maintained a connection with their muggle side.

But even most muggleborns wouldn't think to use a gun. Hermione made a conscious effort to continue to stay at least a little engaged with the muggle world and muggle technology, but that was not a universal experience for all her fellow muggleborns, or anyone else who grew up in close contact with the muggle world. Harry didn't abandon all muggle technology, but he didn't really interface with the muggle world much anymore, though he had surprisingly taken up a conventional correspondence with his cousin Dudley.

And the same held true for a lot of other muggleborns - once they entered the magical world, they didn't tend to look back, and used magic more and more in place of the technology they might have used growing up.

So our killer had to think to use a gun, had to get a gun, had to know that Lucius Malfoy was going to be there when he was there - or happened to stumble upon him with a gun in hand - and of course, had to want to kill him.

That was a lot of things the killer had to be, but without better information, she couldn't really use them to narrow things down.

Hermione was so engrossed in her work as she started going over the threats and hate mail that the Malfoy family had gotten, cross-referencing it with her lists as she could, that she didn't even notice when the clock hit midnight and passed it, her favorite coffee mug having been hit with quite a few Undetectable Extension Charms over the years to reduce the number of trips to refill it required.

Indeed, she didn't notice the passage of time at all until repeated knocking on the door to her office jolted her back to the here and now. Blinking repeatedly as she suddenly looked away from parchment and ink, Hermione rubbed at her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, looking at the clock on the wall.

It was past one in the morning.

Who would be knocking on my door?

"Yes?" Hermione asked, blinking some more as she sipped at her coffee, making a face at just how cold it had gotten, even with yet other charms on the mug, to keep the contents warmer for longer.

"It's me, Hermione," the familiar voice of Percy Weasley said on the other end. Hermione blinked again, though this time in surprise.

The surprise was not at Percy being in the DMLE Investigation Office - he had spent the last few years working at the Department for International Cooperation's International Magical Office of Law, and that meant his work brought him back down to Level 2 with some frequency.

And given how much of a workaholic Percy was - even if he'd mellowed out somewhat since getting engaged to Penelope Clearwater - it wasn't even that surprising he'd be here this late.

But his presence remained surprising since last she'd heard, Percy had been at an international conference in Wizarding New York for the last month, and wasn't supposed to return for another week, at least.

She rubbed at her eyes again. "Come in," she said, draining the rest of her coffee and looking down at the notes she'd made. Her handwriting had gotten sloppier in the last hour or so, though if she told Ron or Harry that, they'd roll their eyes at her for it.

'Mione, sloppy handwriting for you is best efforts for me, Ron had told her once.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, fighting back a yawn as the reality of how late it was really started to hit her body in ways she registered. She felt the corners of her eyes water a little and she rubbed at them with her free hand.

"Nice to see you too, Hermione," Percy said with a chuckled. "I saw the light on in your office, and assumed you must have fallen asleep on your desk again, figured I'd wake you up so you could head home."

"Not quite," Hermione shook her head, then yawned again. "Just lost track of time on this case. Just... I thought you'd still be in New York?"

"The conference ended a few hours ago," Percy shrugged. "I'm still on American time."

Hermione furrowed her brow, "It ended early? Did the Americans suddenly change their minds again?" The diffuse and decentralized nature of the wizarding government covering the 'United States' was one of the most frustrating governments to work with, from what Percy had said and from everything she'd heard. Much like the muggle American governent for other muggle governments, really, but for very different reasons - namely, that getting the entire wizarding American government to agree on something and then not change their minds on the drop of a hat was nearly impossible.

"No, actually the Americans were practically perfect on the issue that killed the conference." Percy said, shaking his head in surprise, eyes a bit wide. "The last two weeks were scheduled to be setting up the framework for greater cooperation on potion ingredient smuggling. It's getting out of hand, even by the usual standards, and the Americans are furious about all the Re'em's blood showing up in the European black market."

Hermione blinked, but after only a moment, remembered reading something about that in the weekly briefings. "Not just Re'em's blood, isn't it? Runespoor Eggs too, right?"

"And Black Starthistle and Grey Sulphur and a dozen other rare or controlled ingredients." Percy nodded. "Always a demand for them, but someone's or some group's been flooding the black market with it all the last year, and hiding the money pretty well. Which is why the Americans pressed so hard for an international task force to try to find the money behind it all."

Following the money was certainly not what people signed up to law enforcement to do, generally, but it worked. When you could pull it off.

"Well, if the Americans actually have their act together for a change... it's got to be the Austrians and the French that are giving you the most trouble, no?" Neither of them were fond of sharing access to things like financial records with other countries.

Like with the division of Germany into many smaller wizarding countries based on centuries-old borders drawn when the Holy Roman Empire still existed, wizarding 'Austria' covered the same territory the Austro-Hungarian Empire had before the end of the first World War, and even older. Hermione had always wondered what sort of adjustment that would be for muggle borns in countries like Slovakia, Croatia and Hungary, suddenly finding themselves in a 'state' that had basically decided to ignore the march of time for the last century.

It would probably be just as jarring a transition as realizing magic existed at all. The slow change in Wizarding borders was one of the strangest things to learn about, with so many wizarding countries possessing very different borders than the muggle countries of the same or similar names, based on lines drawn in the 1600s, or even older in many cases. Hermione, of course, hadn't found out that as a Wizard she was suddenly being governed by a new government, but many others did across the world.

Though I suppose, when you get down to it, a pureblood wizard in Vienna in 1918 had more in common with a pureblood wizard in Prague than with all the muggles around them. Wizards had stubbornly held back on the march of science and technology, why would they let muggles dictate their borders for them?

"Among others. A few of the Germanies, the Congo Union, Cambodia. And even people onboard with the idea couldn't agree on anything else." Percy made a distressed face. "After a week of shouting and getting nowhere, the Spanish and Dutch motioned that the whole thing be tabled for now, and it was the first thing we all agreed on."

He let out a long sigh and pulled a hand down his face. "It'll take us months to agree on a reconvening, and by then, hundreds of thousands of more galleons will have been made by whoever is behind this latest black market surge."

Hermione winced. She'd contemplated International Magical Relations before joining the Investigation Office, and every time she talked business with Percy, she was reminded of all the reasons she had to be grateful of the choice she made.

"Do you need any help? I mean - I could give you a second pair of eyes on any of the financial records you can get?" Hermione offered before she could stop herself. This sort of black market in potions ingredients, especially things like Runespoor Eggs and Black Starthistle - it was dangerous to just let happen without interference.

"I'd love your help, but you're obviously more than a little busy with this case you're on now," Percy gestured to her desk.

"I can help you with your case and work on this one," Hermione protested, though even as she said it she knew it was unwise. This was an important case, especially if word got out widely about the full details of Lucius Malfoy's death.

The Ministry needed her to, if not solve this soon, then at least be able to honestly say that she was making real progress.

"If this wasn't one in the morning, I'd believe you," Percy chuckled. He gestured for her to stand up, "Come on, I'll walk with you to the exit."

Hermione exhaled, knowing she really did need to leave. "Alright, fine," she agreed, gathering her notes up quickly, organizing them as she went, and then put them in one of her drawers, locking it as she stood up. She grabbed her robes from the back of her chair and threw them on before grabbing her bag.

"After you," she gestured, and followed him out of the room.

"So what are you working on so earnestly anyway?" Percy asked casually as they made their way to the elevator.

"Murder," Hermione answered, rubbing at the back of her neck a moment to try and relieve stiff muscles as they walked.

Percy grimaced, "I'm sorry I asked." He let out a long breath. "Anyone I know?" He asked quietly. "Or can you-"

"Lucius Malfoy," Hermione answered just as quietly. Percy drew up short and Hermione did the same a moment later, turning to face him. "What?"

"I'm just..." He shook his head, then let out a noise that was... not quite a laugh, more confused than amused but... "There's someone I haven't thought of in years," He admitted after a moment. Hermione wasn't sure, but she would guess that somewhere in his head were the words 'good riddance' or something of that vein.

It was certainly merited, but Percy was not the type to say something like that outloud.

"Given the way he wriggled out of a life sentence I'm... surprised, to say the least," Percy finally said, then resumed walking. "When? It wasn't in the Prophet this morning."

"Day before yesterday. It's been kept under wraps, though his family knows." Hermione explained. The real thing to keep quiet was the cause of death. Which reminds me, I should probably speak to someone at the Muggle Liason Office... She knew some things about firearms, and she could research other things, but what she really needed was an expert in the forensic handling of bullets and bullet wounds to help her figure out what kind of gun was used, perhaps how far away the shooter was...

If she knew what kind of gun it was, she might be able to figure out where it was purchased, or at least narrow it down. If nothing else, in conjunction with an eventual suspect, it would be needed to confirm things if the murder weapon had been disposed of.

Which I have to assume the killer did.

But unless she was lucky enough that there was a squib working in forensics somewhere in the UK or Ireland, she'd need to get permission to talk to a muggle, get help with the appropriate false paperwork to justify the conversation and the lack of details they could provide...

The whole thing could take a few days, even if she asked Director Fleetwood to apply some pressure. Could even take more than that, under the circumstances.

"Oh, so someone found Draco Malfoy in whatever hole he was hiding in the last five years?" Percy asked as they reached the elevator and stepped inside.

"I'd assume Mrs. Malfoy knew given how quickly her daughter came back to Britain after getting the news," Hermione replied, and Percy blinked.

"Daughter?" He made a 'hmm' sound of surprise after Hermione nodded. "I never would have guessed."

"I'm pretty sure Cybelean people don't wear signs around their necks that broadcast that to the world," Hermione pointed out, chuckling a little at the thought of Cassiopeia doing that when they were all kids back at Hogwarts.

"Point," Percy nodded. "So what's her name then?"

"Cassiopeia. Keeping with the astrological theme," Hermione explained, "I'm assuming anyway."

"Given that her mothers a Black..." he shrugged. "How are they taking it?" added after a long silent moment. "The murder."

"Well, they're obviously upset, but they're Malfoys. Emotional repression is rather part of the package," Hermione replied. "So all formal and stiff, at least around me."

"Standard Malfoys then," Percy shrugged. The elevator opened on the ground floor, and they approached the fireplaces on the far end of the atrium. "The suspect list has to be pretty big?" the question was clearly rhetorical.

"In theory, yes, but in practice, there are ways of narrowing them down," Hermione pointed her wand at one of the fireplaces, starting it up and tossing some of the floo powder into the flames. "If you change your mind about wanting my help with-"

"Hermione, there's no extra credit for taking more work anymore," Percy teased lightly. "Go back to your place and get some sleep for a change," Hermione rolled her eyes and stepped into the fire, calling out her flat's address.

April 26th, 2003

Ministry of Magic, Level 2

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

The Wizarding World might not have had any real understanding of forensic science, but they did understand the need to keep relevant evidence secure and clear of anything that might taint it. That included the bodies of the dead, those times when the murder weapon wasn't the killing curse - usually poison.

Despite the hole in his stomach, Lucius Malfoy looked almost like he was sleeping, the sheet covering the lower half of his body. His platinum blonde hair had shown no signs of going grey, nor had he had any wrinkles, though Hermione wasn't sure if that had been some sort of vanity on his part, or just 'good genes'.

If he'd even known what genes were, I'm sure he'd have said it was good genes, she mused.

"You got the bullet out?" She looked up from the body, covering her mouth a moment to block a yawn. This was her first stop of the morning, and she had not let herself get 'enough' sleep - not when she had so much to get done.

"I did," The Medi-witch handed a small glass vial to her, sealed with wax. "Hard to believe something so small could tear up so much of his insides. He had internal bleeding into his stomach, pierced his liver..." she shook her head. "I'm not sure I actually got every bit and piece, to be honest, but I think so." Hermione looked at the twisted lump of metal and the various shards off of it inside the vial. It was small, and even knowing more about bullets than the medi-witch, still found herself a bit surprised by how much damage it could do given the size.

"How fast was death, can you tell?"

"No more than four minutes, give or take," The Mediwitch looked at her notes. "It would have been four pretty painful minutes, but there was just too much bleeding for him to last any longer than that. "He only would have been dead for a minute or two by the time he was found at 2:34. The spells can't be more precise than that."

"That's still a fairly small window," Hermione frowned. So no more than six minutes before he was found. Add in a few minutes just to be safe, and even then, had Holzmade been there on time, it was quite possible either he could have died as well to silence the witness or the murder might not have happened at all.

It was unlikely to be a crime of opportunity, given the gun, but a witness would very well have changed the killer's mind. Or possibly not.

But there's also the fact that if they'd known Malfoy would be there, would they have known he was due to have company? It was quite possible. They could have shot him just a minute or two before Holzmade was due to appear, and then planned to escape.

In Horizon Square, escape would have been as simple as disapparating - and given the way the crack of it could sound like a gunshot, at least very slightly...

If the killer was smart, they'd have shot, made sure he was bleeding and then left quickly, hoping the two sounds would be timed close enough to not register separately. At least, that's how Hermione would have done it.

She knew not to assume every person she investigated was smart - or that even if they were, they'd do things the way she'd imagine she would - but it was a reasonable theory.

So if we expand the window a little to be safe... he could have been killed anywhere between 2:24 and 2:30. That gave her something to work with, at least.

"It is a small window, but a lot can happen in a few minutes." She gestured to the dead Malfoy in front of her. "Case in point." Hermione nodded slightly in acknowledgement of the other woman's point, but then the witch went on. "Do you need the body for anything else, or do we release it to his next of kin?"

Hermione looked at the body for a moment. "Can I see your notes?' She asked quickly, and the woman handed her the parchment sheets. Hermione quickly skimmed over them. "You found no sign of any poison or potion?" She had to double check.

"Nothing of the sort." The Medi-witch confirmed, and Hermione handed the notes back to the other woman.

"Then I don't think there's much else we can do with the body, so... release it to his family." Hermione signed the proffered form, authorizing the release. "His personal effects?" She asked. "I'll need to look those over before I release them as well."

"Right..." The witch turned around, then frowned. There were a number of boxes on the table she was facing. She approached them and had to move a few to find the one with Lucius Malfoy's name on it. "...here." She handed the box to Hermione, who tucked it under one arm.

"Thank you," Hermione nodded. She covered her mouth against another yawn again.

"Long night last night?"

"Quite." Hermione nodded. "If there's nothing else?"

The witch shook her head, then looked down at the dead Malfoy again. "And all muggles have these... guns?"

"Well, no. Most governments have rules about who can own or carry one, and not everyone has one, but they are... quite numerous and in some places widely available." And it wasn't as if a Wizard would have to worry too much about muggle restrictions on ownership or purchase, given the other options available to them.

"It's a sobering thought... I mean, I always knew You-Know-Who was mad, but... if one gun can do this..." the medi-witch shook her head. "Well, if he actually picked fights with the muggles?"

"Not a pleasant thought," Hermione agreed. "A Protego should block a bullet, but ten? A hundred?" Or Thousands? Not to mention the question of how a shielding charm could stand up to the more powerful things.

Diagon Alley had been damaged in the Blitz, though the Ministry at the time had done what they could to keep the full scope of what was happening from the Wizarding Public, according to what Hermione had read. They'd tried various spells to try to repel the bombs, to varying levels of partial success. But not complete success. And such weapons had only gotten more powerful since then.

Hermione put the thought out of her head before she started pondering the prospect of muggle tanks rolling into Diagon Alley.

"Well, thankfully... we won't have to find out." The medi-witch said with a sigh.

"Very true," Hermione agreed, then headed into another room with the box to look everything over.