As she broached the threshold of the sitting room, Hermione's head snapped up, startled, at a low drawl.

"Where have you been all day?" Draco asked, idly flipping the page of a book—one of the old ones they'd recovered from the Alba hideout.

Freezing, she stared at him, her breath a little quick. "Oh, just here and there. Had some owls to send, some Floo calls to make."

"I see."

There was a casual flippancy in his tone that set her nerves on edge.

Gaze darting down to her wristwatch, she settled into the seat beside him on the couch, aware of his stare tracking her movements.

"I only ask," he went on, "because Podski claims you've spent most of the day in the parlour. And you rarely go to the parlour."

Selecting her words with caution, Hermione stared at him. "I have been there as well."

"Fascinating." The word was stretched out, each syllable drawn twice as long as he returned to his book, peering closer at a hand-drawn depiction of something. "I hope it was a productive day, then."

"It was," she allowed with a curt nod. Worrying her lower lip for a long moment, she sunk into the sofa. "What are you doing tonight?"

With the same idle, nonchalant tone, he drawled, "I have a feeling you're about to tell me." Marking his page with a long ribbon, he closed the book. "And I have a terrible feeling this has something to do with the fact that I didn't tell you it was my birthday the other day."

Huffing a breath, she narrowed her eyes in his direction. He was so Slytherin to the core she would never be able to get one up on him. "I still can't believe you didn't tell me. And it isn't as if I paid much attention to when your birthday was when we were at Hogwarts."

"I didn't tell you, Hermione," he began, and the quiet caress of her given name chased a shiver down her spine, "because I didn't want to make a big deal of it. Ever since the war I've not cared to. And spending the day with you at the fair was all I could have asked for."

Hermione was certain there was a deeper sentiment behind the words, and a soft edge of it showed in his eyes. She pulled his hand into her lap, lacing their fingers. "It isn't anything big. I promise. Just a few friends."

"A few friends," he echoed, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. "A few friends I can handle."

At half eight in the evening, the first guests—Blaise and Theo—arrived via the Floo in the parlour. Hermione had spent most of the day preparing with Podski, and the elf had outdone himself even by his usual standards with a spread of hors d'oeuvres.

While Draco rose to greet his mates with a crooked grin, the three of them digging into a bottle of the finest reserve whiskey that he had insisted upon after she told him about the party, Harry and Daphne arrived. The latter rushed to greet her former schoolmates, and Harry sidled up alongside Hermione, gazing around.

"Nice place," he mused, staring at the vaulted ceiling. "Sure makes Grimmauld look like a heap."

Nudging him in the side, Hermione said, "Too easy to get lost, if you ask me." When he cracked a grin, helping himself to a drink, she added, "Thank you for coming."

"Of course." With a solemn nod, he began piling a plate with Podski's finest, popping a bite into his mouth whole. Once he'd swallowed, he went on. "I figure you throwing a birthday party for the git must be a good sign. Should have seen the look on Ron's face when he asked what we were doing tonight."

"It is a good sign," she mused, folding her arms across her front as she caught Draco's eye across the room; genuine warmth sparkled back at her. "And I didn't invite Ron… I wasn't sure of his stance on all of this—and you have been more accepting."

Shrugging, Harry conceded, "He doesn't understand it—why you needed to get involved so badly. Even more so, he can't see you and Malfoy together." After a long moment of tense silence between them, he added, "I think I'm starting to, though. To see it—between the two of you. And I never could have predicted that."

Touched, Hermione felt her eyes prickle with heat. All she could manage was a soft, "Thanks, Harry. It's all caught me off guard as well, if I'm honest."

Harry gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "As long as he's treating you well."

"He is." The words were emphatic and without hesitation. "Absolutely."

With a sharp nod, he slipped his hands into his pockets. "Maybe sometimes it's the things we least expect in life."

Feeling the sentiment implicitly in her soul, she offered him a smile.

A few others Flooed in, distracting the group—Hermione had asked Theo about any former classmates or other acquaintances with whom Draco still kept in touch—and from across the room, he turned to her with a raised brow.

Amusement on his face, Draco mouthed, "a few?" and Hermione managed a self-deprecating shrug. She had been sure to pass all of their names to Ben in advance so they could be approved to enter the Manor.

Several minutes later, Draco appeared at her side, shaking Harry's hand before slinging an arm around her shoulders and planting a kiss to her cheek. "You," he murmured, cracking a grin, "have outdone yourself."

"I thought you didn't want a party."

"I didn't," he said, rolling his eyes, "but…" When he met her stare again, his eyes were soft. "This is lovely. Thank you."

Butterflies tossed in her stomach at the declaration, and Hermione found herself drawn from his gaze when Harry shifted awkwardly at her side. Withdrawing his arm, Draco dropped a hand to the small of her back instead before turning towards Harry. "I watched a bit of the Puddlemere match at Falmouth the other day."

When Harry grumbled, making a face, Hermione grinned at Draco's effort to connect with her best friend.

Scratching the back of his neck, Harry muttered, "They didn't play their best."

"No." Draco snickered in return. "They didn't." With a glance around the room, he said, "I'm surprised Hugo didn't invite himself along. It's not like him to pass up a party."

"I did invite him and Madeline," Hermione intoned, and at the shift in conversation, Harry idly drifted away to where Daphne still stood in conversation with several of her old housemates. "He said they would come by, so I'm not sure why they haven't."

His brows knit for a moment in consideration as he took a sip of his whiskey. "I'm sure he'll show up fashionably late or something. That sounds very Hugo." Lacing his fingers with hers, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "Let's get something to eat."

A few hours into the party, the guests readily enjoying themselves, Draco slipped onto the balcony attached to the parlour for some fresh air. His lips twitched when Hermione snuck up behind him, wrapping her arms around his midsection.

"Hi," she breathed into his back as he threaded his fingers with hers. "Needed some air?"

Nodding, Draco found himself gazing down at the grounds. From the north side of the Manor, they could see the many tents still dotting the darkness below. Most of the Nocturnus members had been coming and going for work and other commitments, but some had stayed on the grounds the entire time. Releasing a sigh, he turned towards her, dragging her into his side.

"Thank you for tonight," he said, fidgeting absently with a curl fallen loose of her hairdo.

Pushing up on her toes, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips before drawing back to peer over the balustrade. "You're welcome. I thought with everything going on… it would be nice to have a distraction."

Uncertainty lanced through him at the thought because they still hadn't heard anything from Hugo—and he had still yet to appear at the party. But even as the thought passed Draco's mind, he heard the click of the door behind him and reached for his wand on instinct. But he relaxed upon seeing it was only Hugo, and he watched warily as the man warded and silenced the balcony before joining them along the edge.

"You made it," Hermione said softly, glancing inside. Following her gaze, Draco could see Madeline and Cynthia conversing with Daphne and Potter.

It was only then, in the dim lighting of the balcony, that Draco noticed how ill Hugo looked; his hair was disheveled, dark circles beneath his eyes as he clasped his hands together and offered them a tight nod.

Falling serious in an instant, Draco mused, "You've found something?"

"Yes." Hugo clenched his jaw, staring between them. "I've been in meetings and warded Floo calls. I think we've found the location of Arcand's wife and daughter."

"How secure are your contacts?" Draco asked, leaning over the balustrade to stare out upon the grounds once more.

Taking up the spot beside him, Hugo's voice was quiet. "I met them in Italy—contacts of my father. A small but long-standing underground organisation of Alba defectors in Florence. They hate Alba almost as much as we do—and their networks run deep throughout Italy."

"So Italy then," Granger said, leaning her hip against the rail as she gazed between them. "His family is in Italy."

With a slow nod, Hugo grimaced. "Looks that way."

"Does your father have a name?" Letting out a long breath, Draco turned his head to face Hugo.

"Francois Laurent. An established member of the Wizengamot and favoured in the French community."

"Very well." Puzzling through his thoughts, Draco tapped an anxious rhythm on the flat stone of the balustrade. "I hope Laurent is ready to become the interim Minister."

"He is Nocturnus, Lunae," Hugo said absently. "He will do as you ask."

Turning to lean back against the rail, Draco eyed first Hugo and then Granger, folding his arms. "And… does your father know what you've learned? About Arcand's family?" It was a sensitive subject—but if Elias Bergen was being tracked, there was no way of knowing whether his information was also being compromised.

"He does not," Hugo clipped, and something flashed in his eyes that was reminiscent of caution. "He was… disgruntled that he could not help. I have avoided the standard channels and have informed my father of nothing in this investigation. I have not told any one member of the advising team of all the details—and none know of the location I've been stakes are too high for Avance to learn of what we know, if information is being leaked from within our networks."

"Then we need to push forward," Granger said, hesitation in her tone. "We leave for Italy—soon—and we take a skeleton crew."

"A stealthy extraction," Hugo agreed.

"Tomorrow." With a quick draw of breath, Draco nodded. "We need to reach Arcand tonight and get the wheels in motion for Laurent to take his place—and we need Arcand safely out of France before we go in for his family."

Quietly, Hugo breathed, "I will look after that." When Draco exchanged a quick glance with Hermione, the man stood taller. "I swear to you that you can trust me."

"You've done well, Hugo," Hermione said with a bit of an affirming nod. "Please be sure you use the private Floo channels so no one becomes aware of our connection with Arcand. And let us know when everything is sorted."

"The contingency plan for Arcand's removal is already prepared," Hugo explained. "His family will be delivered to a safe house on the continent of which I am Secret Keeper—and soon the pair of you as well. When I give word to Arcand, he will do his part with the French Ministry to ensure his successor is our man—and then he will Portkey to the safe house."

"Fine," Draco said, mind churning with thoughts. Most pressing of all was the niggling doubt surrounding the level of trust he was offering Hugo with the situation. The entire precarious tide of matters with Avance hung on the edge of a knife. "Hugo, I swear to fucking Merlin—"

"I know, Lunae," Hugo said, a hint of humour tugging at his lips. "I wouldn't trust me either if I were you. Maybe one day, I will earn your trust."

Clapping a hand to the man's shoulder, Draco said quietly, "Maybe this will be that day. Merlin knows I'm stuck with you the rest of my life."

Hugo flashed a crooked grin. "It sounds as if I have more work yet to do before the night concludes. I will keep you informed once I have heard from Arcand and be ready to go at your word tomorrow."

But Draco only gazed down once more at the sparse tents on the grounds below, and he squinted in the darkness. Legions of people—thousands of Nocturnus—ready to go at his command. "Do we send them home?"

Following his stare, Hugo swept a hand through his hair. "It sends one of two messages: we think we are safe or that we don't want to make waves—that we're backing down."

"They know we won't back down." Granger shook her head minutely, staring between them. "A show of confidence. It could give Avance a false sense of security if we send our armies away."

"While our route is a quiet one, through a back door in Italy," Draco mused.

Hugo agreed with a single, sharp nod. "I believe it's a good play, Lunae."

An unpleasant feeling had nestled in the pit of Draco's stomach when he thought of how many people were residing on the Manor grounds. Ever since the day they had held court and an Avance operative had infiltrated the grounds.

"Let's do it, then."

"Consider it done, Lunae." Adjusting his tie, Hugo announced, "I will make the preparations for tomorrow with Arcand."

"We'll talk to Ben," Hermione said, worrying her lower lip. "Have him assemble a small team. But the fewer people who know about this, the better, yeah?"

"Yeah," Draco muttered. Hugo murmured his assent. "Good. Then we're all on the same page."

The three of them glanced inside, where the guests were still mingling and reveling, oblivious, and shared a brief grimace. Granger was the one to break the silence when she breathed, "Looks like the party's over."

It was only half four when Draco rose from bed, dressing silently as he rubbed at bleary eyes, stifling a yawn. They had barely managed a few hours of sleep, but Granger was alert and swift when she met him in the sitting room several minutes later, dressed and prepared to go.

A quiet knock sounded on the door into the hallway and when Granger swung it open silently, Hugo trailed inside, followed by Ben and four other guards.

It was only once the door was sealed, the vast array of wards activated, that Draco spoke. "Hugo, give me some good news please."

"Arcand is prepared," Hugo said, his eyes bloodshot and hair more ruffled than it had been several hours earlier when they had departed with the skeleton of a plan formed between the three of them. Draco wondered if he had slept at all. "He has a Portkey that will also act as a Protean Charm—and activate when the time comes." Brandishing a small box, he added, "This Portkey will do likewise when we find his wife and daughter."

"Good," Draco said with a nod, before turning to the most senior of the guards. "Ben?"

Folding his arms across his chest, the burly guard announced, "Dagomir will announce the removal of the Nocturnus Order from Malfoy Manor at first light. With any luck, the internal movements of thousands of Nocturnus will draw the eyes of Avance to England."

"While we move in Italy," Granger said, her tone a sharp clip. Her hair was pulled into a severe knot on top of her head, focus flashing in her eyes. "And what's the plan for Arcand's family?"

"According to my contact," Hugo ventured, "they are protected under moderate security—Avance guards, mostly. We have the element of surprise—none but the eight of us even know this is happening today. It is paramount we get in with as much stealth as we can manage—silent stunners and the like. I have a map of the location—but it may be outdated and incomplete so we will need to keep a sharp eye."

Discomfort churned in Draco's gut, remembering the traps they'd come across at the Alba stronghold the last time they went to Italy—when they had lost a loyal member of the guard. From the looks on the rest of his company's faces, they were recalling the same.

Drawing a yellowed roll of parchment from his pocket, Hugo laid it out on the coffee table and made seven copies, distributing them to everyone. He tapped on his own copy with his wand. "Arcand's wife and daughter will be somewhere in this region. It might be wise to split into two groups in order to have our best shot at finding them with haste. We will communicate via Patronus."

Sucking his teeth for a moment, Draco managed a nod as Granger's fingers laced in his. He had never learned to conjure a Patronus—didn't know whether he would be able to if he tried. Gruffly, he muttered as he tucked his copy of the map into a rucksack, "That all sounds good."

Dropping his own bag on the table, Hugo drew out a balled up silk handkerchief, gently unwrapping the bundle to reveal two small rusted spoons. "Our trip to the castle in Tuscany—from there it's a short Apparition trip to the holding location. If anything goes wrong, we meet back at the castle. It's warded so heavily Avance will have no easy way in, even if they manage to track us."

Swallowing in an attempt to push back the nausea churning in earnest, Draco rolled his shoulders. Although the plan sounded straightforward enough, and there were eight of them, he couldn't help a feeling of dread curdling in his stomach. "Good work, Hugo."

With a tight smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, Hugo activated each of the Portkeys in turn. "On your command, Lunae."

Exchanging a hesitant glance with Granger, Draco tightened his stare and turned to the rest of their group. With a huff of a breath, he squared his shoulders and announced, "Let's do this."

Author's Note: Hey everyone, thanks for continuing to stick with this story. Your support means more than I can say. I'm so happy I've sown such deep distrust of these characters in so many of you and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. XD

Alpha and beta hugs and squishes to Kyonomiko, LadyKenz347, and ravenslight.