A/N: Thank you to my alphabet WordsmithMusings for the spit shine on this one!
Just to keep you all updated on where I'm at with this story: I finished the outline and project this to be 17 chapters total, so only 5 more left!(if everything goes my way lol) I have chapter 13 done, but I'm going to stick to posting every 2 weeks to give myself time to finish this. Once I have all the chapters written, I'll return to once a week!
I'd also like to say thank you so much to everyone who has been reviewing, favoriting, and following Tethered. It means the world to me everytime I get an email!
Enjoy!
Chapter Twelve:
Harry grumbled to himself as they walked through the Ministry, weaving between employees as they left for the day. Hermione ducked around Arthur as he suddenly turned on his heel, seeming to have forgot something. She breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't notice her.
This time, Hermione had cast the charms, layering them atop each other until they built an impenetrable shield. And, of course, it worked perfectly. No one paid them any mind, not even her boss, Sterling, as they walked by her.
"I wish we could use the Invisibility Cloak," Hermione said as they walked toward the lifts. "It would have made this a lot easier."
Harry grunted his agreement. The Ministry had wards in place that set off alarms the moment someone donned an Invisibility Cloak within its walls, which meant the best they could do were the charms.
They waited for a crowd of employees to exit the lift before sliding in themselves. A small, far-off popping sound echoed somewhere behind them, but the doors closed before Hermione could look for it. It was eerily familiar, yet she couldn't quite place the sound.
The lift shifted down, but Hermione barely felt the change in direction as Draco squeezed her hand and Sirius leant against her legs. Hermione let herself enjoy the comfort their presence gave her, leaning further into Draco. She reached a hand down to stroke Sirius' tangled fur.
"In and out," Harry said. "And right back to Grimmauld."
Hermione hummed in agreement, too busy compiling a list in her head of the items she needed. Her research papers, first and most importantly. A travel potion kit, a few potion ingredients—though she wasn't sure she had most of the items she'd need—perhaps a book or two...
"Granger," Draco called, tugging on her hand.
The elevator doors had already opened, and Harry waited for her with a tapping foot in the hall. Hermione shook her head, leading them to her office. She had been so lost in her thoughts; she hadn't noticed their arrival.
Thankfully, the Unspeakable department had always been a relatively isolated area. They kept to themselves, too involved in their research to pay any mind to a small group of people walking down the hall. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at how perfectly she fit in here.
Removing the various locking wards, Hermione pushed open her office doors and set about grabbing various items, tugging Draco and Sirius in every direction. Hermione handed her papers and books to Draco, knowing he would keep them orderly. Her travel potion kit and what she had left of her pathetic apothecary store went into a bag that she slung over her shoulder.
Hermione sorted the ingredients she had and chewed her lip. She wouldn't be able to make a potion from this, but she wasn't sure what she needed yet. A trip to Diagon was essential, but without knowing the required ingredients, pointless. Her research was only half-finished.
Harry checked his wristwatch, "Hermione, c'mon. We need to go, now."
"I have everything," Hermione replied, yanking her men behind her. Harry followed, and together, they swiftly clamoured back to the lifts.
Draco skimmed through her papers, stopping at various points to read. Hermione itched to ask him what he thought—to discuss her findings.
"You take very good notes," Draco murmured to her.
A fluttering coated her stomach; a shiver raced over her skin and down her back. Goosebumps covered her arms. "Thank you," she replied breathlessly.
Draco didn't miss the way the words caught in her throat. His silver eyes flashed as they stared at each other.
It wasn't the right time for this; Narcissa was in the hospital hanging on to life. But something about the way Draco praised her had a different kind of heat coursing through her. The kind that excites, the kind that made your heart leap.
The elevator doors slid open, and Hermione shoved away whatever it was she felt. Harry stepped out first and inspected the now relatively empty lobby. Only a few people milled about, conversing or checking their watches, no doubt waiting on a co-worker or friend.
Hermione's pulse beat in her ears as they walked through together, her Notice-Me-Not Charms still hard at work. She kept her eyes scanning the room as they walked, unable to kick some old habits from the war.
A strange man—Hermione only considered him strange because he was staring directly at them while wearing a pair of odd glasses—stood on the opposite side of the Atrium. He made her skin crawl, and she had the faintest feeling that she should say something to Harry. But, before she could, Harry whisked them into one of the Ministry's Floos, calling out Grimmauld Place and whisking them away back home.
Proving her trust in him, Draco kept her papers from spilling everywhere as they tumbled into Grimmauld. Hermione fell to her knees with a faint grunt, the shock clacking her teeth together.
Sirius quickly transformed back, grabbing her face gently and inspecting her for injury. "All right, kitten?"
"I'm fine." Hermione breathed. Sirius was so close, so near to her. His lips were only inches from hers, and every nerve in her body sang. That heat returned, the kind she felt with Draco earlier in the elevator. Both of them. She felt this for both of them.
"Careful, Black," Draco said, helping Hermione to her feet. "I need her brain to be somewhat solid right now."
Sirius pouted slightly but didn't argue as he stood too, brushing soot from his tangled hair.
"My mother, Granger. I didn't ask a single time while we were in the Ministry, but now we're home. Tell me what's wrong with her."
Hermione chewed her lip and took her papers from him, spreading them out on the coffee table. "I call it Witch's Rot."
Draco fell into the chair beside her. "I'm sorry, what?"
She opened her mouth to say more, to tell him all she knew, but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. Nothing more could be offered from her lips; her contract prevented it.
"Here—" Hermione collected a few papers from the pile, handing them to Draco. "I can't say, but you can read and ask questions. I can nod."
He read quickly, eyebrows furrowing and raising with each passing sentence he devoured. Sirius bounced his leg where he sat on the couch beside where Hermione stood. Her body sagged with exhaustion, but there was still so much to do. She knew the moment she sat down, she would find it difficult to do much else.
Or at least, that's what Hermione told herself.
"So... She's dying because my father is stealing her magic?"
Hermione shook her head. "Keep reading."
He was almost there, but not quite.
"She gave it to him?"
Hermione grimaced and nodded. Now that Draco had read her research, she could explain. A clever little loophole she had found in her contract and failed to tell Sterling.
"I began researching the treatment of Azkaban prisoners a year ago. I've looked at many things: living conditions, Dementors, magic depletion—everything. I found a common trend, though, with prisoners who didn't react to the rune-carved wardstone at all. Their wives suffered illnesses and eventually died..."
Draco gripped her papers a little too hard, crinkling the edges. "Died? Don't you mean killed? My father is killing her—"
"Draco, you have to understand," Hermione started, reaching forward to grip his hand as she knelt in front of him. The rope between her and Sirius glowed a bit brighter. "The spell they performed had to be wanted by both parties. Your mother went into this knowing what would happen, knowing that her body would shut down, knowing that she could die."
"How did you end up wanting to study this?" Draco asked her, eyeing her research, eyeing her hands on top of his.
Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Sirius. "I was inspired."
There it was—her confession. Sirius' eyes flashed in understanding, and his stare held her captive. She had picked this because of him, because of what had happened to him there. Hermione had helped change many things in her time spent on this, ensuring prisoners were treated fairly, no matter their crimes. And, of course, Kingsley would have never changed the laws on trials had she not slipped the idea to him.
"How do we save her?"
Pulled from the hypnosis Sirius put her under, Hermione turned back to Draco and swallowed the lump in her throat. "We can't. Only your father can. He has to reject the spell and sever their bond. I've been looking into an experimental replenishing potion, but it's not complete. And it won't keep her alive forever; it won't matter until he stops it."
Draco ran a finger over her notes. "He'll go mad." It wasn't a question.
Hermione squeezed his hands. "If he doesn't, she'll die. It will keep him sane for a bit, but he'll go mad eventually. There's no stopping it."
He let go of the papers, and they fell to the floor, crinkled from his grip. Their fingers wrapped together as Draco pressed his forehead to the back of her hand. "I'll write to him."
"Your father needs to see her, and I don't think Harry will want to advocate for his release, even temporarily," Hermione stated, running her fingers through his hair. "I'll write to Kingsley directly."
A booming knock at the front door had them jolting in bed, wands at the ready. Hermione untangled her legs from Sirius and her arms from Draco. They had been sleeping so peacefully...
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"C'mon," Sirius said, tugging her and Draco out of bed. She didn't even have time to don her pyjama bottoms as they rushed down the stairs to the front door.
Sirius peeked through the peephole and furrowed his brow, opening the door to see a very angry Kingsley and—oh, for fucks sake.
Ron.
He glanced between them, eyes going wide at their bound hands and narrowing at their attire. They moved back to let Kingsley and Ron enter; Hermione quietly Accio'd her trousers and slipped them on as they walked to the kitchen.
Kingsley tossed a stack of paper on the table and ran a hand down his face.
A picture of her, Draco, dog-form Sirius, and Harry as they walked to the lifts played over and over across the front page.
Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger caught together at the Ministry. What does Harry Potter know?
That faint clicking sound she heard—that was the photo being taken. Ice filled her veins, and her stomach rolled. Why couldn't she just be left alone? She was nothing special, just a friend of Harry Potter. Her life didn't need to be in the paper.
Hermione hitched a breath as she read on.
Our photographer that captured the photo of the said couple had this to say of their behaviour.
"I've got these fancy glasses, see—" Mr Smythe said while waving around a pair of bright pink sunglasses. "-from the Weasley's shop. They can see through glamors and Notice-Me-Not charms. Must've been real powerful, cause the second I took 'em off, I couldn't stop staring at my shoes."
His words can only mean one thing: they didn't want to be seen. Why? Both Mr Potter and Miss Granger are Ministry Employees, so why the need for such powerful glamors? And since when has Miss Granger owned a dog?
"That bloody fucking shit-eating bug—" Hermione cut herself off, anger rising as she stared at the image. She and Draco held each other close as dog-Sirius walked beside them. There was no doubt about their close relationship.
The paper crumbled in her hands.
Kingsley stood, "We don't know if Rita is the one publishing the stories. They're never signed, and the Daily Prophet refuses to release their information. But we did contact the photographer and had his copies of the photo destroyed.
Hermione's blood thrummed in her ears. She knew it was Rita. Ever since Hermione trapped her in a jar, the woman had a personal vendetta. But Hermione would squash Rita beneath her boot if that's what it took just to be bloody well left alone.
"But they never should have had this opportunity, Hermione," Kingsley continued, his voice stern. "You've behaved like a rule-breaking teenager, and it seems that Harry has an issue handling you."
Handling? Her? Hermione stared at Kingsley with her mouth hanging in disbelief.
"I've asked Ron to step back into his Auror role and help take over Harry's duties," he continued. Hermione's blood boiled.
Ron crossed his arms and glared at Draco. Draco glared right back.
Sirius coughed into his hand. "I hope Harry isn't in trouble. It was an emergency, as I'm sure you're aware, Cissa—"
"I know about Mrs Malfoy. Harry told me everything, and no, he's not in trouble, but he's been taken off your assignment for now."
"But Harry—" Hermione began, but Kingsley cut her off.
"Hermione, I thought you would listen, but you clearly have no regard for the rules. As such, I've had to make further restrictions. Ron has assured me he can handle you, and should he fail, I will find you at fault. Not him."
Hermione's cheeks heated at his words, embarrassment and anger building in her chest.
"Find me at fault, if anything," Draco said. "Weasel being here won't help us."
"I definitely find you at fault." Ron stood straighter as his glare narrowed. "I can't believe this is true. I thought Kingsley had gone mental." He looked at Sirius and finally at Hermione. "How could you ask for the ferret's help, 'Mione?"
Hermione clenched her fists. Her emotions were too heightened, her anger at Kingsley too great to keep at bay. So instead, she lashed out. "You don't get to question me, Ronald. We're not even friends anymore. We're nothing to each other."
Ron winced. Hermione knew that probably hurt him more than she wanted, but she didn't care.
Draco brushed the back of her hand, pulling her fingers apart to link with his. Sirius did the same on her opposite side, and Ron deepened his glare on their hands.
"Ron will be taking you to St Mungo's to see your mother, Draco," Kingsley said."And... I received Hermione's letter, so your father will be there too."
Hermione looked at Draco, both their eyes wide in surprise. His father would be there already?
"Hurry up and get ready. You leave in twenty minutes."
No one missed the way Ron grumbled to himself as he watched Hermione follow Sirius and Draco up the stairs.
Why Ron of all people? Did Kingsley truly hate her? This whole ordeal made her see him in a different light. He was a Slytherin. Ambition and self-preservation ran in his blood. While he wasn't evil by any means, his view of the Ministry clashed with hers. Kingsley thought the Ministry should be seen only in a good light, while Hermione thought everything should be public. Honest. Fair.
She pushed her thoughts aside as she dressed. Right now, she needed to worry about how to deal with Ron being in the presence of two Malfoy men. And how would Lucius be? Had the spell kept him sane?
Too many questions and so few answers. But hopefully, she would have some soon.
The Ministry had St Mungo's install a private Floo in Narcissa's lavish hospital room. Kingsley went first so he could meet with the Auror's from Azkaban and Lucius. Hermione, Draco, and Sirius went next, followed finally by a grumbling Ron.
Draco pulled them to Narcissa's beside, her pallor still just as sickly and translucent as before. She looked even worse, hair thin, breathing shallow. Hermione held Draco's hand as his other gripped his mother's.
Ron stayed silent, but Hermione could feel his molten stare on her—them. Sirius placed a hand around Hermione to squeeze Draco's shoulder. He had opted to stay in his human form should additional magic be needed with Lucius. Hermione hoped it wouldn't come to that, but she had no idea how Lucius was now.
The door creaked open; a fully-suited Azkaban Guard entered first, followed by Lucius. He looked ragged; long matted hair pulled into a messy bun, sunken cheeks and dirty clothes. Shackles made of wardstone hung from his wrists, runes etched roughly into them. Chain connected them to a matching pair around his ankles where paper-thin slippers covered his feet. True shackles. Magical Suppression. Merlin, what did they do to a person?
Hermione's throat closed. This. This was why she was researching Azkaban. There had to be a better way to treat prisoners. There had to be some humanity.
Lucius fixed his sunken eyes on Narcissa and jolted forward. The guard behind him kicked his feet out, and a sharp thud echoed in the room as Lucius fell hard to his knees. The guards grinnedHermione lifted her hand to stop it, opened her mouth to say something, but Draco's hand on her shoulder stopped her. Everyone except for Kingsley glared at the guards but said nothing. They couldn't, and it wouldn't matter anyway.
Sirius moved closer to her, his hand gripping hers. No doubt he burned with a similar rage as she.
Lucius stood on shaking knees and slowly walked toward Narcissa with a small limp. His eyes stayed on her face the entire time, tears breaking down his cheeks as he gently cradled her hand. They made quite the pair; similar bruises covered their matching translucent skin as it pulled tight over bone.
"Father," Draco started, his voice barely above a whisper.
With a jolt, Lucius turned to Draco with widened eyes. "Draco? You're here—" His eyes landed on their glowing bonds, moving up to Sirius' face. Lucius stared in shock, his skin devoid of what little colour it had.
"You don't get to ask questions," Draco told him. "You're here to see mother and listen."
Lucius moved his eyes back to Draco, then to Narcissa. A short nod was the only reply they received. Hermione watched as he stroked Narcissa's face gently, eyes roaming her body to search for signs of injury. He still had so much love for her.
"Whatever you're taking from her, it's killing her. You have to end it, or she'll—" Draco's voice hitched, his eyes turning red. He pressed his thumb and forefinger against them. Hermione and Sirius both placed steady hands on his back.
"She'll die if you don't," Hermione completed for him. Lucius looked at her for the first time, a look of recognition passing his face.
"Miss Granger," Lucius greeted. "The years have certainly been kinder to you than me."
Hermione's stomach twisted uncomfortably at receiving a compliment from Lucius Malfoy. But she said nothing as Draco's body relaxed slightly while his father returned to staring at Narcissa. It seemed no insults would be hurled at her—for now.
"Why would you make her do this?" Draco asked, anger filling his voice.
Lucius' bony thumb stroked the back of Narcissa's bruised hand. "I didn't want to, but she forced me. She said life without me wasn't worth living." He sighed, voice cracking as his fingers skimmed Narcissa's thin face. "She refused to let me go until I agreed to do the spell."
"You have to break it," Hermione couldn't help but speak up, unable to stay silent. "I can save her, but you have to sever the connection first."
Lucius looked up at her, unshed tears brimming his eyes. His gaze returns to settle on Narcissa as his chin trembles. "My darling Cissa. I never wanted this for you. Live your life and be happy; forget me. Pretend I'm dead. Tell her Draco—" His father looked up, a small bit of insanity filling his eyes. "You have to promise me. Make her forget me."
Draco froze beside her at his father's harsh tone. "I will; I promise."
Lucius's gaze moved to Sirius on the opposite side of Hermione. Sirius stiffened against Hermione, his finger's gripping hers tightly.
It seemed like there was something he wanted to say, but Kingsley moved forward and handed Lucius a wand with tentative hands. "You cast this one spell and return the wand immediately; otherwise, you will be killed on the spot."
The two guards brandished their wands and pointed them directly at Lucius, but he was too busy cradling the small piece of wood in his hand. It was nothing special, but it was no doubt the first time he'd held a wand since his imprisonment six years ago.
"Get on with it," one of the guards piped up.
Hermione burned his squashed face into her memory. He would be her first target when she finally managed to reform Azkaban.
Lucius stared down sadly at Narcissa. This was his last connection to her, and once severed, ensured Azkaban would swallow him whole, but he still pressed it to Narcissa's heart, the tip of the wand glowing. Lucius muttered a spell beneath his breath, and a small flash of white illuminated between them.
Changes happened immediately. Some colour returned to Narcissa's cheeks, her breathing stronger. Lucius, however, crumbled in on himself, his body zapped of energy. Draco jolted forward to help him, touching his father for the first time in years. The bonds between Hermione and Draco glowed as their arms stretched out.
Kingsley took the wand as the guard's picked Lucius up to return him to Azkaban.
Draco tried to follow, to call out for him, but Hermione held him back. They could do nothing for him now, but Hermione still had her research, and she planned to shift her focus toward Lucius afterwards. Something could be done; something had to be done. But Narcissa had to be taken care of first.
"That went better than expected," Ron piped up.
Draco glared at him before looking at his mother. Her healer entered the room, still looking as though he needed a week's worth of sleep. He checked her vitals with a frown.
"Her temperature is rising to normal levels, her breathing is stronger, but everything else is still low. Her magical energy is still close to non-existent. I've never seen anything like it."
Hermione looked up at Draco's worry-creased face. They needed to get home so they could look at her research together. They would save Narcissa.
"We'll go now, Minister," Hermione said. "We'll stay in the house."
Kingsley nodded and walked them toward the Floo. "Thank you, Hermione. If you need anything, owl Ron from now on."
Like hell, she would. Hermione would take matters into her own hands from now on.
It was time to do things her way.
Hermione rolled to her back with a soft sigh. It had to be nearly one in the morning, but still, her mind raced from earlier. They had begun research on the potion the moment they returned home, eliminating many ingredients as possibilities.
She flitted through a few possibilities. Nettles? Dragon Tongue? Bat wings?
No. No, none of that would work. Letting out an irritated sigh, Hermione rolled to face Draco, wide awake and watching her.
Hermione felt heat crawl up her neck and across her cheeks. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot as if he'd been crying. On instinct, Hermione placed her hand across his chest, and he laced their fingers together. Draco pulled her arm up along his bare chest, placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
Heated coursed down Hermione's arm; shockwaves ran over her skin. Draco's eyes darkened, and butterflies erupted in her stomach. That odd feeling returned; the comfort she felt with him, the heat she saw in his eyes.
Sirius shifted beside her, snoring softly. It broke whatever was happening between her and Draco, and he let her hand go to pull the blanket up higher.
"We'll help your mother," Hermione said softly. "We'll figure it out."
"I'm not as worried for her as I was. But my father..." Draco rolled onto his side, cutting off Hermione's view of his face. She couldn't tell him that she'd help him too. Hermione had no idea if she even could. But, she would try. Draco didn't have to know that, though.
She placed a hand gently on Draco's naked back; goosebumps erupted over his skin. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he replied breathlessly.
Hermione returned to her back, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. Her brain, however, continued into overdrive. She felt it again. The heat, the intensity. She knew things were developing between them; there was no denying it. The bond was strong magic.
She pushed those thoughts aside. Feelings had no place here; once she figured out how to break it, they would all separate, anyway. Their intimacy was simply a product of being shackled together and forced to share personal space. Like some odd form of Stockholm Syndrome.
But the bond had to wait. First, Hermione needed to save Narcissa Malfoy's life.