Author's Notes: Well, I've decided that the reason many fics get so voluminous is not that the stories themselves are epic in scope, but that the author writes 500-1000 words notes at the beginning. So we're going to try that because I meant for this fic to be around 100,000 words when I started it, but it's only about 40,000. It seems that I've been writing and writing forever, but the story never gets any larger. This chapter has taken me a month and it's only 2,000 words. I can write a ten page essay faster than this!
At any rate, some of you wrote to say that you were confused about what was going on. I too am extremely confused because I've been writing this silly thing for two years in a row. In between my sporadic chapters, I've gone off to England, I've come back from England, I've finished two years of college and worked 2 jobs and 1 internship. But I am fiercely determined to finish this thing even though I no longer really know what's going on in this story and my Harry Potter obsession has kind of died for the present. But maybe a summary of what's gone on before would be wise:
Summary of chapter's 1-10:
'The Promise' begins after the Great War against Voldemort has ended. Our three heroes Harry, Ron and Hermione have just combined their savings together in order to start a detective agency, and they are just popping the champagne bottle when in walks their first client: Narcissa Malfoy. Her son Draco has been missing for two months and she is desperate to find him. Hermione is stunned by this news because during the war she and Draco had a brief love affair, which ended when he went away on a mission and did not return to her even after the war had ended. Narcissa asserts that Draco was coming back for Hermione as he had promised, but Hermione tells Ron that she doesn't believe it.
But then, strangely enough, as soon as Hermione returns to her flat, she finds Draco, wounded and bedraggled in her hallway. His only request before he faints is that she not touch him.
After he awakes Hermione is still wary of Draco, and is even more confused by her growing attraction to Harry. But, still unwilling to relinquish the great love of her past, Hermione reinitiates her affair with Draco, although she feels somehow as if this is wrong. To add to her suspicions, her Draco behaves strangely: possessive and at times violent, and he refuses to give her any explanation for his long absence from her side. Also, he disappears to the bathroom once an hour in order to hide this mysterious scar on his face that he says was put there by a woman.
The drama is brought to a head when Narcissa appears to see her son, only to declare that Draco is not Draco at all. Because he loves Hermione, Harry refuses to accept this, feeling that he has no right to take Draco away from Hermione (as he believes he once did before) and that by resuming the investigation he would be doing just that. Narcissa, however, insists that this man is an imposter, for her son had been obsessed with a certain old book called the 'Logoi Ergon,' and this new person had no idea what that was. Yet Harry still refuses to continue the search, deeming Narcissa's evidence as insubstantial.
However, Hermione is desperate to know if her suspicions are founded and she teams up with Ron, who (like any good investigator) simply wants to know that truth, in order to continue the investigation. Their search leads them to a Muggle nightclub frequented by one of the Aurors in charge of the Ministry's investigation of a fight outside of the Leaky Cauldron. They need to get access to the wand-reading reports on that particular night because Ron suspects that Malfoy was involved.
While Ron sweet-talks the Auror, Hermione returns home to find an empty house. A few moments later Draco appears, looking as if he had been digging in the dirt. Draco has also discovered that Hermione does not trust that he is who he says he is. They fight and Draco becomes violent, so Hermione stupefies him and runs away.
Meanwhile, without his two partners, Harry has begun a more routine search for the Blossom Gem, which Arthur Weasley has reported stolen from the Ministry Museum of Ancient Magic in London. Harry finds himself in a Muggle antique shop in Bath, and the proprietor points him to a jewelry story whose owner has recently boasted of making a great trade. The trade was a beautiful gemstone (presumably the Blossom Gem) for an old book…
Chapter XI: The Logoi Ergon
by Jenni
*****
Hermione ran from her flat, not even caring that Draco couldn't follow her. She wasn't running from him anymore, but from the terrifying collapse of their love. Her feet carried her away from it all to somewhere, anywhere where it wouldn't matter that she didn't love Draco Malfoy anymore. She feared him as she never had in her entire life, not even when they had been at Hogwarts and he had been so cruel. He wasn't even being cruel now. Brutish, secretive, but not undermining. He was not hurtful. And yet she feared him.
She did not cry until she ran out of breath at a street corner near Harry's flat. She hadn't even known that she was going to Harry's flat, but now it seemed the logical choice. And yet, she didn't want to confront him. He would comfort her, but she knew that inwardly he would rejoice at the rupture with Draco. And so she broke into sobs, leaning on the street sign instead of her friend to support herself. It did not hold her. She sank lower to the cold earth and buried her face in her hands, weeping like the rain and yet still attempting to conceal the heaves coming from her chest.
Hermione was in shock. Always, always she had tried to have faith in Draco. At first it had been so easy when they were alone together at the base camp. He had been so easy to read then. He had been so eager for her approval and yet so afraid to show his feelings. And then when he had left she had held him at his word that he would return. Even when he hadn't she still felt on some level that he would come to her. But she had never anticipated the day when she would stop wanting it; the day when she would wish he had stayed in his gothic castle or wherever he lived and left her alone.
"Why?" she said out loud. The rest choked in her throat as she continued to cry. "Why? Why?" was all that came out, but inside she was berating herself. Why can't I love him? Why can't I?
It was not Draco that she hated, but herself because she couldn't trust him as he had asked. She always had to have the answers and the absolute truth and somehow faith was no longer enough. He had kept his promise and returned to her! Why couldn't she keep hers to love him always?
Her mind told her that it was her fault that it was all ruined now. It shouldn't matter if Draco behaved a little differently. But, then again he had attacked her.
He didn't attack me. He was trying to reach me.
Even telling herself that did not help matters. Deep in her soul she knew that everything was wrong: Draco, Draco and her, Draco's behavior, Draco's face. Everything seemed wrong except her instincts. And yet she did not, could not accept that her fears were reasonable. For so long she had wanted Draco back. She could not now bring herself to give him up.
Hermione simply wanted the old Draco. The boy in the woolen coat, who had looked at her with such love in his eyes that it made her want to leap into his arms every time she saw him. If only she could go back in time to those precious few moments of complete happiness.
If only she could turn back time.
*****
Draco felt silly leaning against the alley wall like a little school kid hiding from Filch. But Hermione couldn't enter his barracks without authorization so he was forced to wait outside for her on the chance that she was still coming. He hoped she would keep their date. He badly wanted to see her, but she was already a half hour late.
He flipped a knut into the air and caught it. Heads he would peek around the corner. Tails he would stay put.
It landed tails. Draco peeked anyway.
He didn't worry that she had changed her mind about him, but it irritated him that she had probably been detained at work. By work. By her own sense of responsibility for her work, which ensured she would work to the latest hour and be too tired to come see him.
Or even worse, she had forgotten. Draco felt that was actually worse than being stood up on purpose.
Ten more minutes passes and then Hermione's step at last was heard in the gravel behind him.
"Sorry I'm late," she said. Her tone and countenance were apologetic, yet rushed. "I ran into a million people on the way."
"A million?" he asked with a skeptical lilt.
"Well, maybe just Major Baines, Lieutenant Patil and Harry. Not in that order, though." She kissed him then, and took his hand to lead him to the door.
"What excuse did you give to Potter?"
"None," she paused, not sounding the least bit wary of the topic. Then she asked, "Why? Do you want me to tell him?"
The question was posed so innocently that it angered Draco. He supposed she had never thought of it before. "No," he answered too quickly. "Anyway, what's to tell?"
It was dark in the alley, but he could still see the hurt upon her face.
"I'll tell him eventually," she offered.
"Oh, don't worry about it," he said, but this time with too much congeniality. "Now let's go upstairs."
But Hermione seemed far more reticent about it now, and half way up the stairs she froze. "I'm tired," she said. "I think I just want to go back to my barracks."
Draco's heart fell, knowing he had blown it with his show of indifference, and yet unable to end his charade. "Don't be silly," he said. "You can sleep upstairs."
"No, I really just want to leave," she protested.
Draco was unwilling to release her hand; yet she was obviously no longer in the mood, and come to think of it neither was he. That stupid Potter had sullied their evening.
"Fine," he said, "I'll walk you back."
"No, please, I think I'll just apparate."
But she let him walk her down the steps to the door, which he opened for her.
"You're not angry are you?" She touched his face with her hand.
Angry? he thought. About Potter? About her going home? Did she want him to be angry?
Draco shook his head, but did not give her a definitive answer until she let her hand drop from his cheek. He restrained himself from catching it, but he couldn't help the truth slipping out. "I'm actually quite furious."
Hermione smiled then for some inexplicable reason that it would take a woman to understand and stood on her toes to kiss him quickly. But it turned into a long kiss, and then an even longer one. As her arms wrapped about him, he released the door.
"I'll just sleep here," she whispered between kisses.
He laughed.
*****
One morning a few days later, Hermione sat on Draco's bed, playing with the buttons on his shirt, which she had just fastened for him. Each would be going to their separate ways in a few minutes, but they let the few minutes remaining draw out as they enjoyed each other's company.
Hermione's gear lay packed in the corner. She would be going on her first away mission in many months. Stupid Potter had suddenly realized she was necessary.
"I'll miss you," she told Draco, but he did not answer at first. She found this frustrating. After all, he had pursued her, had won her, but sometimes it seemed that he didn't want her. He never said anything that would imply he wanted more than sex. Somehow Hermione felt this was not the case, but her gentle disposition ensured that she felt the full pain of the situation as if it were. To make matters worse, she was fairly certain that she was in love with him.
The realization had come to her gradually, always accompanied by the fear that he did not feel the same way. She had come close to telling her friends once, but had changed her mind. It wasn't as if she were ashamed of Draco, but somehow she felt that making the relationship known would jinx it. Plus, Ron and Harry were frequently gone on short recon missions, meaning they weren't present to be told.
"Tell me why you're going again," he asked.
"Because Harry is concerned about Ron. He thinks if it were the three of us together again that Ron might calm down a little."
"So you're not only going because Potter asked you?"
Hermione smiled at his brief show of insecurity. "Well yes, but Harry is my best friend. I've always done what he asked."
Draco said nothing again, but kissed her quickly. Too quickly. The gesture seemed dismissive.
"Good luck."
"Thank you," she said.
"I'm not jealous of Potter, you know."
Hermione's eyebrows rose, although she did not attempt to contradict what he said. She both was irritated by and enjoyed his fears. They were irritating because no woman likes to be suspected of infidelity, and yet they were enjoyable since they were the only obvious proofs of Draco's affections.
"I am jealous, though," he continued. "I wish I had a good mission right now. I feel useless."
"I'm only going on a reconnaissance mission. I won't be in enemy territory longer than twenty minutes." She stood to get her things. "Harry will be there to protect me," she teased.
Draco was unreadable as he stood and grabbed her pack in order to hand it to her.
"Don't die," was all he said.
"Would you care if I did?" she asked, strapping on her gear. 'Oh Draco,' she thought to herself. 'Don't tell me you wouldn't.'
As if he heard her mental bequest, Draco left off any sarcastic remarks for once. He said nothing at all in fact, although his eyes were shining with some unspoken fervor. He seized her hands in his and pressed them warmly. And who knows what words would have been spoken between them had the loudspeakers over the camp not blared the hour.
"I'll be late!" cried Hermione, pulling away from him. She ran for the door, ready to speed through it and down the stairs. But when she reached the doorway, she turned around to take one last look at her lover. His gray eyes revealed nothing, but hers were beseeching. She hoped he could read her thoughts just one more time, for they were saying, 'Kiss me. Kiss me just once more."
Draco did not read her mind, however, or if he did, he did not budge. When the speakers blared again, Hermione turned from his room and rushed down the stairs.
He did not come after her.
*****
Harry was awakened by the sound of his doorbell being pressed repeatedly followed by and also accompanying frantic knocking. It was late. His clock read 2:00 AM. Thus, his first thought was that someone had died or perhaps another war was starting, and he raced downstairs without giving a thought to his appearance.
As soon as he swung his door open he found himself half naked before a haggard-looking Hermione, who stood with arms crossed as if huddling from the cold. She was bedraggled and had obviously been crying. Despite the fight they'd had at their last parting, his heart went out to her, and he led her into his foyer and grabbed a box of Muggle tissues from a closet. He didn't know how the Wizarding world lived without them. Handkerchiefs were so impractical.
"What happened?" came his inevitable question as he sat her down in the living room.
Hermione shook her head, unable to speak. She hiccoughed while she blew her nose, but her eyes were dry. She had cried herself out of tears.
"Can I just spend the night here?" she asked. Her voice was thick from sobbing.
Harry nodded before going to prepare a bed for her.
When he returned with blankets and pillows, he found her staring at the items he had left sitting on his coffee table. On it was a note from the Ministry and a box containing the object in the pursuit of which he had spent much of his past week. With pleasure he watched as her hands strayed to it and opened it. The Blossom Gem, intact and undamaged.
A soft gasp escaped her lips. "You found it," she said with some degree of pride.
"I did," he said, setting down the pillows. But when he saw her face scrunch up as if she were going to cry again, he enfolded her in his arms. He stroked her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder, but he knew this was not the time to progress things between them. Instead, he set her on his couch and sat across from her on his coffee table, hoping rather than expecting an explanation.
Hermione wiped pathetically at her eyes. "Ron and I followed his lead," she said. "Draco found out. I'm sorry, Harry. We should have stayed with you. I mean, this isn't Hogwarts anymore. We solve cases for a living, not for our own inclinations."
Harry swallowed his own hurt that she and Ron had gone behind his back.
"Well, your inclinations have generally been right in the past. Maybe I should have gone with you."
At this her eyes began to well up again, but she suppressed it this time. "I don't know what's wrong with me, Harry," she said.
"Nothing's wrong with you. In fact, I know something that may make you feel better. Or maybe not better exactly, but maybe it would help you to understand your feelings about Malfoy a little more."
Hermione blinked at him, not quite comprehending.
Then Harry told his story:
*****
The day before, after leaving the Antique Shop, Harry had rushed immediately to the jewelry store to which he had been pointed, hoping he could get there before it closed. He was not even thinking about the significance of the "old book." His only thought was that he might find the Blossom Gem within the hour so he could go home, put his feet up and brood over Hermione in peace.
He did not apparate, although this might have made things easier, for all buildings in Bath were that same sandy color and consequently he felt as if he were going in circles. But there were too many Muggles here. Muggles this way and that, shopping and eating ice cream. Drinking tea. There were tourist Muggles and buses full of Muggles. After being cut off from the road by a particularly long chain of tour buses, Harry felt that he would never find the jewelry shop.
Nevertheless, fifteen minutes later he arrived breathless and sweating at the door of his destination. As a consequence no one took much notice of him, for they were already in that lazy mindset that settles in at the end of every workday. Perhaps if he had simply 'poofed' into the shop, or perhaps if it had not been so apparent that he had been running like a Muggle, they would have recognized him for who he was. But they did not, and Harry had to walk to the cash register and cough loudly about seven times before anyone noticed him.
"Yes?" said the salesman.
Harry noted his preoccupied demeanor. He had been conversing with someone in the back room and was now quite reluctant to end the conversation.
"Er…can I speak to your manager?"
"I am the manager. Did you want something?"
Harry hoped that he was in the right shop. "Er, um…I'm looking for this gemstone. It's big. It looks like a paperweight."
The manager suddenly eyed him quite carefully. "Are you a…a wizard?"
"Yes," said Harry. "And if you have what I want, I'll pay you in gold."
And so the manager went into the store room, brought out the gem and placed it before Harry. It took only two minutes of negotiation before the price was settled on ten Galleons and the manager—who obviously did not know the real worth of the gem—started packaging up the thing. Harry realized that in the Muggle world those ten Galleons he had placed on the table were worth about one thousand pounds. Still, he felt a little guilty, and was considering throwing in another five coins when the manager spoke.
"You wizard types are always welcome here." he said, putting a few more strips of packaging tape over the bubble wrap.
"Are we now?" replied Harry with interest. "Was it a wizard who gave you this gem in the first place?"
"Oh, he didn't say, sir, but I think he must have been. But then again, he didn't seem to know the value of the object. All he wanted was this old book in Greek."
Harry's head shot up. And his heart began to pound as he remembered Narcissa's words to him. He was always looking for this book… "Greek book? What was the title? Was it the 'Logoi Ergon'?"
"Well, I don't know. It used those Greek letters that I can't read."
Harry thought for one long moment, searching his memory for every tiny detail he had learned about the Greek language. "Can I have a piece of paper?"
"Certainly," answered the manager, though his tone suggested he was confused by the virulence with which Harry demanded it. He retrieved the requested object nonetheless.
"Can you write what it said?"
The Manager thought for a moment. "Well, it started with this," he said, and scrawled a mark onto the scrap paper:
'Λ'
'Lambda!' thought Harry. 'It's a Lambda! It was the Logoi, the book Narcissa had told him about!'
"Who wanted it? Who traded this gem for it?"
The manager seemed stunned. "I say, you seem oddly interested in this book. Ought I have kept it for something more valuable?"
"Yes, yes, probably," said Harry in a rush. "But who took the book? What did he look like?"
The manger thought deeply. "Well, I don't recall exactly. I can't remember the face because all faces tend to blend together when you've been in retail as long as I have, but I do remember the hair. It was this funny color…not quite blonde. More like silver…"
*****
Hermione stared at Harry. They still were sitting together on the couch, but she had stopped crying.
"You see, Hermione?" he was finishing. "Malfoy stole into the Museum and took the Blossom Gem so he could pawn it for this book!"
"But Harry, what does it all mean?"
Harry smiled. "It means he's a thief, that's all. He must have gotten into something terribly illegal after the war and maybe that's why he didn't come after you. And now he won't tell you anything because he's running from the law. And maybe Narcissa is in on it too! Maybe she's deliberately trying to make us think that this isn't Draco so we won't arrest him for theft. Anyway that's my theory."
Hermione just stared at him, looking very confused. "Maybe…but we don't' even know what this book is for. We don't know why Draco wanted it. And well…there's still the possibility that this person isn't Draco at all. We still don't have Ron's information."
She bit her lip and stared at the Gem. "We'll have it tomorrow, I hope. And we should find out what that book was for. And…" she drifted off.
"And what?" asked Harry.
"Draco is still stupefied in my flat. I don't know what to do with him."
Harry now felt resolute about what to do with Draco. Before he had vacillated over whether or not he should tear Hermione away from him, but it had now become obvious that this Draco was not making his friend happy. And if Hermione wasn't happy with Draco, then Harry certainly wasn't obligated to save their relationship. Not because of some stupid mistake he'd made during the war. That was then, this is now.
"Well, send him to prison," said Harry.
"First we'll go to the Malfoy Manor and search for the Logoi. If he has it, we can present the case to the Ministry. They'll be sure to prosecute."
Hermione looked up at him, her face aghast. But he did not know if she was more shocked by the thought of Draco going to prison or by the fact that he had changed his mind so swiftly about the way with which to deal with Malfoy.
Surprisingly, she offered no resistance to his plan. She merely said, "Let's wait for Ron."
*****
Author's Notes Part II: Well, I'm sorry that was such a dull chapter. I hope some of you have an idea of what's going on. Next time I'm hoping to post a summary of the flashbacks, then finish the flashbacks altogether. That mean's you'll finally learn what Harry did to Draco and Hermione to make him feel so guilty.