~Chapter Thirty-One~ Saving Grace
Draco paced. It had been extremely odd sitting in Hermione's house knowing that she wasn't there. Crookshanks had come running the moment the floo had chimed his arrival, and the great furry beast had regarded him for a few moments before very decisively arching against Draco's legs and leaving a swathe of ginger hairs clinging to the very expensive Italian wool of his trouser legs.
It had been stranger still before when he had gone to the office following his interview and found it devoid of any occupants. There he had found what Hermione had previously informed him was a "post-it" (which made absolutely zero sense) on her desk, her handwriting proclaiming she had just popped home to get something.
Despite himself he was anxious to see her again after the events of the morning, keen to demonstrate that all was well between them, and to find out how she had fared with Krum and Weasley. Part of him was also wanting to share how he felt after his morning, knowing she would ask about how things had gone with his parents, and about the interview, and was too distracted by her inexplicable absence to dwell on the fact that such a desire was a foreign one. The fact that she had not been home upon his arrival had been odd, and quickly derailed his thoughts.
Of course, it was entirely feasible that after returning home she had then gone elsewhere for something else. Draco's stomach rumbled. It was well past lunch time. He wasn't sure whether it was his own nerves after Blaise extracting his confession out of him, and then the aftermath that they'd both had to deal with the Witch Weekly cockup, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy. The fact that there had been no murder on Sunday kept circling in his head, the idea that something might happen at any point now repeating unhelpfully like a torturous mantra. Something wasn't quite right, and he knew how to differentiate between his gut feeling and unfounded nervousness.
He had already made himself a cup of tea after a long debate about what to do, pleased to have managed to successfully boil water in her kettle, but had since drunk through the whole pot, cleaned the tea things, dried them, and set the cup and saucer he had used back in the cupboard.
With an effort, he stopped his restless stride, and went and sat in his usual chair. Crookshanks ran in and leapt on his lap before he could stop the creature, curled up and began to purr with a sound rather like the boiling kettle. Draco frowned slightly, then rolled his eyes, unbending so far as to scratch the mangy creature's mothy ears. Cats knew when you were unsettled.
After a few minutes, he let out a breath. The cat burbled, stretching and getting up, slinking away into other parts of the house. Draco rose, dusting himself off ineffectually before he resorted to a Scouring Charm to remove the multitude of hairs, and then drifted over the desk by the window where some of Hermione's research was laid out.
He had only just grasped the chair to pull it out when the floo chimed. Draco spun on the spot as, with a deafening roar of the green flames which belched out into the room, Hermione rolled out of the grate.
"Granger!" Draco rushed forwards, knocking over the chair in his haste and falling to his knees on the carpet beside her, reaching to grasp her.
She was coughing and on her hands and knees, covered in ash, and beneath that he could see she was cut up, her robes singed and torn, all kinds of mess tangled in her hair. She made to gesture with her hand, but was still too far gone between the adrenaline of her evident flight and soot from her journey to yet speak.
"What–?! Never mind!" He turned on the fire and sealed the floo with a wave of his wand, spinning on his knees to send a stream of protective charms and barriers to the house boundary, one hand remaining on her shoulder like a lifeline.
Crookshanks ran in as he was casting, and immediately set about comforting his human.
Hermione seemed to finish the last of her coughing fit, and sucked in a deep, rasping breath, head back as though she was breaking the surface of a lake, eyes shut.
"You're safe." Draco placed both his hands on her shoulders, meeting her eyes as they opened, trying to imbue a sense of calm and reassurance in his own. "It's going to be OK now. Let me help you."
Hermione nodded tiredly, still beyond speech.
Draco stowed his wand only half reluctantly, every nerve jangling and on high alert. He put out his hands and she took them, allowing him to carefully help her up and to her feet.
She almost collapsed as she stood, and he caught her as her knees gave way, half carrying her to the settee where he set her down. Crookshanks followed and then leapt up onto her lap, purring anxiously and kneading.
Draco sat beside her awkwardly, waiting for her to speak, uncomfortable with the inaction and his own powerlessness, heart thundering in his ears, but knowing that for the time being, they were safe. She was panting, gulping for breath, and her hands shook a little as she reached out to grasp one of his hands, her grip fierce.
He wanted to do more for her, to hold her and comfort her, but he wasn't sure if that was his place, whether it would be overstepping the mark, and all that he had admitted to Blaise was clouding his mind and making it harder to be sure of his own intentions. He squeezed her hand back, placing his free hand over the top of hers, and felt her grip slacken just a little.
He eyed her carefully, quickly categorising her state. It was clear that she was shaken and frightened, but also evident that there was no permanent damage or anything life-threatening wrong with her. The tight knot in his stomach relaxed, but only a little.
"Draco." Her voice was hoarse.
"Let me get you something to drink."
Hermione nodded faintly, opening her mouth to speak, and then coughing again, hand going to her chest.
Draco flicked his wand in the direction of the kitchen, summoning the tea things which rocketed through the doorway, the water already boiling as it came. He poured it out to brew in the cup and reached into an inside pocket of his blazer, pulling out a silver hip flask, unscrewing it and pouring it into the cup, half filling it with the alcohol.
"Drink."
Hermione took the teacup shakily, and after an initial sip, quickly drained it. She gave a shudder as she swallowed the last drop, but seemed steadier.
"Call Harry."
"The floo–?"
"Is safe. There's no need for it to be blocked."
"Right." Draco peeled himself off the couch reluctantly, carrying out her request in a daze, barely aware of the words coming out of his mouth as he spoke to the confused then shocked and concerned countenance of Potter, now returned to the Ministry.
Harry arrived seconds after Draco had cleared the fireplace, barrelling into the room and casting about, taking in Hermione on the couch, accompanied by Draco once more, covered in blood, glass, moss, and more.
"Hermione!"
"I'm fine, Harry." Hermione cleared her throat a little, taking a deep, steadying breath. Draco being there on her arrival had been the last thing she had expected, but his presence had been exactly what she needed though she hadn't known it before. She could still feel the unpleasant tingle of the Cruciatus Curses crackle through her body every now and then, and knew from experience that it would be a good few days before her mind stopped replaying the effects in phantom surges. Other than that, however, there was nothing wrong with her that a few spells couldn't manage.
Shock was foremost in her mind, and it had taken her until Harry's arrival to finish pulling herself together. It was excess confidence that had caused the situation – a deplorable lapse in her own concentration and vigilance, and she was furious with herself for it.
Stupid stupid stupid!
"We need to send some Aurors to Knockturn Alley – clean up the mess and limit witnesses to control the story. And possibly to Flourish and Blotts – I came through their floo and there were a few customers who saw me in addition to the staff."
Harry opened his mouth to ask the half dozen questions that the statement immediately drew to mind, then shut it. He nodded, turning and quickly firing off several patronuses. "Done."
Hermione nodded gratefully, and felt a little of the tension in her release. But only slightly.
"What happened, Granger?" Draco's voice was tense, but quiet. She could feel him practically thrumming with tension beside her, wound tight like a coiled spring, and was grateful for his patience.
Hermione sighed. "I was…a bit of an idiot."
Harry sat heavily in the chair opposite. "Start at the beginning."
Hermione ran a hand down Crookshanks' spine, collecting her thoughts, and the cat burbled. "Dumbledore did have the light grimoire. Professor McGonagall sent it over." The men's eyes widened, surprise and jubilation momentarily breaking through their concern. "When I was reading it, I found a note in it with a name on it. Just a name – Pilgrim & Sly's."
Draco frowned. "The second-hand bookshop down Knockturn Alley? But–"
Hermione nodded and raised a tired hand.
Draco fell silent.
"I figured that as the light grimoire had been in Dumbledore's possession, that the note might have been a link to the dark grimoire, from him. He couldn't know the book would end up in my hands specifically, but he was always so prepared I didn't think it was possible that the bookshop was unrelated. It had to be a clue to whoever needed the book."
Harry was leaning forwards. "And was it?"
Hermione nodded.
"That's brilliant, Hermione!" Harry paused, his eyes returning to her injuries. "But how–?"
Hermione sighed. "I got cocky. I was chased and attacked by two robed men after I left the shop."
Harry's eyes widened, and Draco's narrowed.
"They'd cleared the street of traders, I'm fairly sure of that. So it was premeditated. Almost like they had been waiting for me. But it's not possible. There's no way they could have known when I'd be going there, if at all. Unless I was already a target, and my wandering down into Knockturn Alley was too great an opportunity to miss."
Harry frowned, his expression serious. "It's not beyond the realms of possibility that it was a happy coincidence for them that you went down Knockturn Alley. But none of the Aurors shadowing you two when you've been out have noticed either of you being followed, although it's possible to avoid being noticed." He scrubbed his face, thinking hard.
"What about the attackers? Did you see them?" Draco's question was urgent.
Hermione shook her head. "Their hoods stayed down. I only heard their voices after they'd knocked me down, and I wasn't really in a state to pay much attention."
"Perhaps–" Draco bit off the sentence before it could get any further.
Hermione raised a brow, glancing at him, but his expression was suddenly shuttered.
"Are you OK? What injuries do you have?" Harry was leaning forwards, concerned.
Hermione waved a hand. "I'm OK, Harry. Really I am." She smiled to reassure him. "If I'm honest, it's more shock that it happened at all than anything. Everything else can be healed easily enough." She felt Draco's gaze on her once more, and she knew he didn't believe her. It was like being in a spotlight.
"Granger…" Draco's tone was stern. "What did they do to you?" He resisted the urge to reach out with his mind to hers. She'd had enough traumatic events for one day.
Hermione flushed and looked down at Crookshanks, carding his fur. "Cruciatus Curse," she muttered.
"WHAT?!" Harry and Draco's exclamations melded into one, both flying to their feet at once.
"Are you OK, Hermione? Really?" Harry met her eyes seriously.
Hermione nodded feeling weary down to her marrow. "I'll be fine, Harry. You know how it is. The rest is nothing too severe." Hermione winced a little. "Mostly bruises."
Harry nodded, concern replacing the anger in his expression.
Draco pushed his emotions down, his stomach roiling with what felt like a nest of vipers, and anger like fiend fyre rose within him, but his expression remained stoic.
"The real question is whether it's linked to the case." Hermione steered the conversation away from her injuries, feeling her energy flag with the effort. "They were definitely waiting for me. The attack was too prepared for it to be random. But then it was just that. An attack. Not a murder."
Harry's frown deepened, his face a twist of frustration and concern. "Well exactly. After no murders on Sunday we can't totally rule out that this isn't just another change in whatever plan is happening. And it's almost too much of a coincidence for them to just happen to target you when all of this is going on. But then I wouldn't put it past some extremist group or individuals to seize the opportunity in the confusion to take a pot-shot at you, and hope we thought it was part of the case." Harry ran his hands through his hair, thinking hard. "The fact that you're still alive is significant."
Draco sat silently, his hands knotted together, knuckles white.
"That's what I thought." Hermione huffed. "It's clouding the waters more than anything."
They all nodded, silence falling between them as thoughts and implications swam unspoken between them.
"There is one thing." Hermione's expression was grim.
Harry's face fell.
"They took the book."
Silence fell, cold and heavy.
"Fuck." Harry's face dropped into his hands. "So they did know about it."
Hermione nodded. "I think so. It seems like too strange a thing to just grab because it was there when they attacked me."
"I suppose it could be a poor attempt at making it seem more like theft than a targeted attack." Harry mused but without conviction.
"That feels too amateur. This felt thought out. And they stopped torturing me the moment they had it. And if they hadn't known about it, why attack me? Why wait for me to come back into the alley? But even if the whole thing was to get the book, it's such a longshot. The light grimoire had been in Professor McGonagall's keeping since Dumbledore died. And supposing they knew the dark grimoire was in the shop, staking it out on the off-chance that I or someone connected to Dumbledore came to retrieve it just seem stupid. It would take years. We don't even know how long Dumbledore has had the books! And even then there would be no guarantee of the opportunity ever arising. There's no way they could possibly have known about the note, or even that I'd act on it. Only Professor McGonagall knew that I'd received the light grimoire, and the possibility of anyone getting to her, or even managing to put the Imperius Curse on her is ridiculous. There are just too many ifs."
"Why do I feel like we suddenly realised we're in deeper water than we thought?" Harry's despairing groan came muffled through his fingers.
"Because we are." Draco's tone was hard, and his face was still paler than usual, almost deathly. "We've been swimming in shit this whole time."
Harry pulled himself upright again, frowning. "We're working with too many unknown variables. We need to scrap thinking about the how's and why's and just work with basic facts and assumptions if we're to make any sense of this." The other two nodded seriously, watching him expectantly. Harry turned his gaze to Hermione. "We know they used an Unforgiveable. We can be fairly certain they wanted to target Hermione specifically – it's too great a risk to just choose you at random with your links to the Ministry. So they're willing to go to extreme lengths to achieve their ends."
Draco nodded. "The dark robes aren't conclusive by any means, but it could also be an attempt to provoke links to the Death Eaters."
Harry nodded, pointing in agreement. "So. If this attack is linked to the killings, and they knew about the dark grimoire, do you think all of this was just an elaborate ploy to get the book?"
Hermione pursed her lips, thinking, and then shook her head firmly. "I don't think so. Whilst I'm certain that they couldn't have figured out the enchantments Dumbledore laid down to hide and protect the grimoire, that feels like too much of a chance. That many killings feels unnecessary for a ruse. They had no guarantee that we'd research Dark Mark removal, or that our research into it would lead to the grimoires – or that we'd even find out about their existence, let alone discover and retrieve the dark one. There was nothing obvious at any of the crime scenes that directly pointed to the grimoires beyond lots of old dark magic. If they wanted us to retrieve the book for them, a more obvious clue or even some kind of hostage situation would have been better. We might have stumbled across a mention of them eventually, but that's a lot of ifs, especially if the whole point of the murders was to get the book."
The men nodded.
"There's a possibility that they have more than just the book in mind." Draco spoke slowly, feeling out the thought, and Harry and Hermione's attention snapped to him. "Two birds with one stone. Anyone interested in that kind of magic isn't a friend to Muggles or Muggle-borns."
Harry nodded. "That's true. We can't count that out."
"And what if it isn't connected to the case?" Hermione asked. "That leaves us with two strings of murders, probably linked, probably ongoing on one hand, and an attack against a Ministry official about a book on Dark magic."
Harry nodded.
"Whether this is connected to the case or not, they were targeting you on purpose and waiting for you there." A flintiness came into Draco's grey eyes, hardening them. "Even if it raises more questions than it answers, it's information. We might just be looking at things from the wrong angle."
"It seems like we won't know either way, now that they have the grimoire. If we had it at least we'd have an idea of what they might stand to gain by it." Harry sighed, pushing his hands through his hair so that it stood on end in spikes. "How is it that every step forwards has to be accompanied by two back?"
"Don't you believe it." Hermione's tone was light for the first time, and she reached into the bag at her waist, her hand going in up to the elbow, and pulled out a book.
It had a black leather cover that was faintly mottled with age. It was plain, old, and radiated power.
The two men goggled at her, then at each other, and then back at the book.
"But…but you said–?" Harry scrubbed his eyes.
"They took a copy." Hermione leant forwards, concealing a wince as the bruises around her torso twanged, and laid the dark grimoire on the coffee table. It looked an innocuous thing, and perhaps could have been mistaken for a minimalist planner but for the sizzle of magic it gave off. "I couldn't very well buy the book, and I wouldn't have anyway, but I didn't want the shopkeeper to know. It would have been far too suspicious to leave with nothing after more than two hours combing through the place. I bought another book – one on poisonous toadstools, I think, and then charmed it after I got outside. It looked like the grimoire, but that was it."
Both men looked like they could have kissed her for her ingenuity.
"Brilliant," Harry breathed.
Hermione allowed herself a grin. "They'll realise what they have is a fake quite soon. But they didn't stop to check after they'd knocked me down. They were anxious to get away, that much was obvious."
"Luckily for us," Harry muttered.
"Shall we? I mean…" Hermione gestured to the tome.
Harry and Draco nodded and they all moved closer, gathering on their knees around the coffee table as Hermione opened the book.
There was no denying that between the covers all manner of nastiness was contained in various spells, curses, hexes, rituals, and potions. Between it all, however, there was also a great deal of theory, complex formulae and charts, and from what Hermione had read of the light grimoire, the missing pieces of the puzzle she had thus far arranged began to fall into place as they skimmed through the dark grimoire.
It seemed to cover every aspect of Dark magic, from torture to transfiguration to the raising of Inferi, and it was hard to tell amongst all the deeply unpleasant spells and potions exactly which one might have been the reason for the attack.
They flicked past a whole section on ritual magic, which none of them had really encountered much before, including a section on resurrections, which Harry felt certain had theories which formed the basis of understanding the Resurrection Stone. They didn't dally, however, and moved on to the chapters about magical marks.
That section was mostly theory rather than actual spells, and Hermione and Draco were rapidly absorbed in it. It was clear that helpful knowledge was contained in the pages, but the text was written in the blackletter hand, with f's instead of s's, and the style dense and technical to comprehend. It would take some time to decipher the knowledge.
Hermione rocked back on her heels. "I think we have something here, I really do." Her expression was glowing despite the filth and cuts and her own exhaustion following the fight. She glanced at Draco and could see the hope in his eyes, which his self-control wouldn't allow to spill out into the rest of his face. "We might not know why they wanted it, but it will help us with our work, and that's almost worth more."
She sat back up on the couch, moving gingerly and feeling strained muscles make their presence known as she did so.
"It'll take some time, but I think this is what I've been searching for. There are things in the light grimoire that now make sense. They're meant to work in tandem."
Harry beamed up at her. "Well done, Hermione. If it wasn't for you, we might not have dug this up. Either of them."
Hermione smiled, but glanced to Draco. "We should thank your mother, really. She was the one who put us onto the trail of the grimoires."
Draco blinked. "I'm not sure how she'll feel about that."
There was a slightly awkward silence, and then they all laughed.
Hermione clutched at her ribs. "Ah!" The men both started with alarm and concern and she raised a hand quickly. "I'm fine, I'm fine! I swear I'm fine! Just a lot of bruises."
Harry nodded, his expression clearing, and stood. "I'll get back to the Ministry and handle what went down. Knockturn Alley will be set back to rights in no time." He chewed his lip. "I reckon the Prophet will already have had its scoop on the destruction though."
Hermione grimaced. "Sorry, Harry."
Harry waved a hand. "Not your fault. How bad is the damage, by the way?"
"I'd say maybe three or four shop fronts? It's hard to remember."
Harry nodded. "OK. The Aurors will have easily managed that. Leave it all to me – you're not to worry about handling any of the fall out to do with it, got it?"
Hermione nodded reluctantly. "Thanks, Harry."
"Not a problem." He nodded to each of them in turn. "I'll owl with an update later. Make sure you get fixed up and checked."
Hermione gave him a grateful smile and a nod, and after grasping a pinch of floo powder from the bowl on the mantle, Harry was gone.
Crookshanks leapt from Hermione's lap and sauntered out into the kitchen.
Draco turned back to Hermione, his eyes intense. "Let me help you, Granger."
Hermione rolled her eyes with a smile. "I'll be fine, Draco. Honestly."
"Hermione. Please."
Hermione met his earnest gaze. "I'm not a china doll, Draco. I'm grateful, but you really don't have to. The tea and you being here was really more than enough."
Draco huffed. "I'm not saying that you are. But you've been in a fight, and…more." He paused awkwardly as the memory of Bellatrix and Hermione's screams echoing off the marble of Malfoy Manor rang in both their minds. "I'm better than you might think at healing spells."
Hermione let out a hollow laugh. "You and me both." She got up and winced, letting out a hiss.
"Ankle?"
"Yes. I didn't really notice it before."
Draco did his best to look beseeching.
Hermione sighed. "Fine. You can help."
Draco got up immediately, an arm going around her waist to help support her, and despite her show of bravado, Hermione leant gratefully into him, taking the weight off her now throbbing ankle. Now that the adrenaline had mostly cleared her system it really was painful, each slight jog of movement sending a spike up through her leg.
"I'm guessing you want to get upstairs?"
"Yeah."
"Let me fix up a few things first. Minimise the mess."
Hermione glanced around at the shards of glass and bits of broken brick and wood splinters she was dropping everywhere. "You may have a point." She allowed Draco to ease her back down onto the settee.
"Right." He pushed back the coffee table to give himself some room, and then went down on one knee, lifting her injured leg carefully and placing it over his thigh. He removed her boot as gently as he could, pausing each time she winced or hissed, and then felt the ankle bone.
The moment her boot came off, Hermione lay back in the cushions, eyes closed, frowning slightly at the pain as he manipulated the strained joint, but enjoying the relief that came from the cool touch of his fingers. "How come you were here, by the way?" The question was sleepy, hazy with the come down from the adrenaline of the fight.
"Hm?" Draco had zoned out a little, his mind focused in his fingers as he ensured that it was a sprain and not broken. It was obvious that she would have been screaming if it had been, but he knew it was always best to make sure. "Oh, I was looking for you. I saw your…what do you call it? Post-it note." He shook his head, frowning, and was silent for a few moments. "You should've told the truth about where you were going."
Hermione sighed. "I know I know. And stop scowling."
"Your eyes are shut! You don't know if I'm scowling."
Hermione opened one eye, lifting her head to look down at him just as he wiped the aforementioned expression from his face. "Uh huh."
Draco rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, although the faint smile curving her lips filled him with relief. "OK then." He pulled out his wand and gave her the lightest of taps. Her ankle glowed white-blue for a moment, and when the light faded, he glanced up to check her expression.
Hermione smiled as the warm sensation faded. "That feels better. Thank you."
Draco nodded, suddenly gruff, and then set her foot back down, getting up to wave his wand here and there over her person, removing the layers of dirt, moss stains, water, and all the debris from her fight. A second flick and the settee and surrounding area were spick and span once more as well. Her hair was still in a tangle, blood and rips in her clothing, but she was at least cleaner than before.
"All right. Let's get you upstairs then." Draco put out a hand, and Hermione took it, allowing him to help her up despite the healed ankle.
She tested it gingerly. All was fine.
And here it is! Thank you for your patience on that cliff-hanger lovely people!
April was a very busy time for me, but now that quite a few things in my life have been wrapped up, I'm going to try and update more on a monthly schedule. It may still occasionally be once every two months, but I will try my best! I'm also in quite a comfortable place with work on my second novel, where I'm feeling more situated and secure in the story, which means it will be easier for me to split my brain between that and this fic! I'm also planning on sending out my manuscript to some publishers for the first time at the end of this month, so wish me luck! 3
And now, onto the chapter! This is sort of the turning point for the next arc of the story and the beginning of everything else that happens, so it's very exciting. I've reworked it a few times, so hopefully it doesn't feel too belaboured! Draco's first instinct is, of course, to want to go and destroy whoever attacked Hermione, but he knows that what she needs more is him to be there with her. I also feel incredibly sorry for Harry having to deal with the reporters on his own, but what a trooper.
I will admit that him checking her ankle was 100% inspired by the moment where Mr Willoughby checks Marianne's ankle for a sprain in Ang Lee's 1995 adaptation of Jane Austen's "Sense and Sensibility" (fully recommend watching if you haven't seen it before). I also fell in the love the the idea of a healing scene because it is a very intimate thing to do, and even though for Draco it's a totally non-sexual intimacy, for Hermione it's more in that weird liminal space because of her struggles with her own feelings for Draco.
I hope you enjoyed it! And fingers crossed to update in June rather than July!
Please do review and/or favourite :) Tell me what you like or don't like :) Questions and speculations are always welcome :D As is incomprehensible flailing if that's what you go in for :)
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