Draco awoke with rays of light darting across his face. When he tilted his head to the side, he was tickled and blinked. His face was buried in Hermione's hair. She was sleeping with her head resting in the crook of his neck, and her arm was sprawled limply over his chest. He looked down at her. Her bare back was exposed to him and he gently placed his hand between her shoulder blades. Slowly, he began to slide his fingers up and down, following the line of her spine. Looking down at the floor, he saw a few pieces of clothing that they had hastily peeled off and thrown or dropped. A goofy smile stretched his lips. She was in love with him. Finally.
Hermione gradually woke up under the Slytherin's gentle caresses and began to stir lazily. She groaned and finally opened her eyes.
"So this is what you look like when you wake up!" Draco joked.
The brunette blinked a few times and realised that the warmth surrounding her was not the sheets, but the Slytherin. With a gasp, she grabbed the sheets to wrap them around her, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. Draco raised his palms and stopped touching her, confused.
Hermione straightened up to sit on the bed, the sheets now firmly around her. She had never shown herself naked in daylight before. Their moment of intimacy the night before jumped into her mind and she felt herself flinch. It had been wonderful. But had it been so wonderful for him? She bit her lip.
Draco straightened up too and sat down. He put his hand against her back.
"Hermione, are you... shy?" he breathed out in disbelief.
The Lioness tucked a lock of her hair behind her ears. The touch of his skin on her back was hot. "Umm... a little?" she squeaked.
Draco kissed her shoulder, and almost immediately shivers ran down the witch's skin. He noticed that she had several flecks of mole on her back. And he thought it was very, very pretty...
"Why?" he asked, lips still pressed to her skin.
Hermione, slightly distracted by the brush of his lips against her shoulder, stammered slightly before gathering her thoughts in place.
"Um... yesterday it was... it was dark," she said.
Her partner wrapped his arm around her stomach and pressed her against him. He continued to drop kisses here and there on the curve of her shoulder, down her shoulder blade and up the back of her neck. His fingers around her waist tightened with desire.
"So what?" he murmured, his voice a little hoarse.
"So..." replied Hermione, distracted by the excitement he was causing her, "everything looks a bit clearer in the light. The details…"
"It's the details I like best..." he breathed, pressing his mouth a little harder against her shoulder.
Before she could retort, or even think of retorting, the Snake slipped the arm he had slid around her under the sheets and was now practicing caressing the bare skin of her belly with a large, firm hand. He drew her to him so that she was leaning directly against him, between his legs, her back against his chest, and his chest against the headboard. She had her head thrown back over one of his shoulders, and he could bury his face in her neck if he wanted to. He could see the bumps of their legs entwined under the sheets.
Hermione pulled the sheets up to cover her chest, but Draco's arm still remained underneath, directly on her skin. She thought about what she wanted to say, what she had meant to say, but couldn't remember. All she could think of, and feel, was her partner's hand on her stomach, warm and soft.
"You don't, and won't, ever need to hide with me," he said in an almost severe tone.
With his other hand, he grabbed the edge of the sheet she was still holding tightly against her, and began to slowly pull it down. Hermione resisted.
"Don't hide," he whispered. "Hermione... you're so beautiful…"
The Gryffindor bit her lip, her head buzzing. Draco kissed a patch of sensitive skin just below her ear and she felt a pleasant twinge twist a knot behind her navel.
"I want everything from you..." he added. "Every detail… » He tugged again, but very lightly, on the sheet, as if asking permission. After a short moment, Hermione decided to surrender herself, revealing herself to him.
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
They spent the morning in each other's arms, unable to let go. It was only as the hot water from the shower dripped down on both their faces that they realized, almost simultaneously, that they belonged together. When they stepped out of the shower once the water was lukewarm, Hermione's lips were swollen and pink, while the Slytherin had purple lovebites left on his neck.
The Lioness bent down to grab her towel, wrapped it around her and twisted her hair to drain it. The mirror was fogged up, but the middle was still clear and Hermione could see Draco's reflection behind her, who was now brushing his teeth with a towel around his waist. She grabbed her hairbrush and began to brush her wet hair slowly, still looking at the reflection of the blonde wizard.
"You'd better shut your mouth, Granger, you'll swallow a fly," he said with a wink.
Hermione blinked and wrinkled her nose at him. It sounded like something he had said to her earlier in the year. She didn't stop looking at him though. Draco stepped forward and spat into the sink before looking at her.
"But really, why are you looking at me like that?"
The brunette finally looked away and looked at her own reflection, still untangling her hair. She began to bite her lip. Draco placed a quick kiss on her shoulder.
"Hermione, I know that expression. You want to ask something but you don't know how."
She put down her hairbrush and grabbed her toothbrush. "Well, then, I was just wondering…" She squeezed the tube of toothpaste between her hands and put the paste on her toothbrush. "What exactly are we?" she stuffed her toothbrush into her mouth.
Draco shrugged and smiled at her with a touch of mischief. "What do you want us to be?"
She widened her eyes and blushed. "I... I don't want to make you uncomfortable... "
Draco laughed, noticing the obvious embarrassment on his partner's face. He positioned himself behind her and put his arms around her, while she was still brushing her teeth. He looked directly at her through the mirror.
"Are you asking me to be your boyfriend, Granger?" he smiled.
She leaned over and spat into the sink, which sent a small jolt of excitement through Draco as her hips pressed against his. He placed his hands on her waist. She rinsed her mouth and pivoted to face him, wedged between him and the counter.
"Maybe you don't think we're ready," she began, her gaze slipping away, "or maybe it's too soon to—"
"Hermione," he interrupted her, lifting her chin with his fingers.
She looked into his eyes and felt herself relax as soon as she was bathed in the soft cloudy grey of his eyes.
"You can label it with whatever term you want," he breathed, still sounding a little petty, "I don't care. I'll be whatever you want me to be."
Eyelids fluttering, Hermione parted her lips to let her oxygen out. Slowly, an emotional and slightly incredulous smile touched the corners of her mouth and she placed her palms against his chest, still warm from the shower.
"Maybe boyfriend would be a good start," she replied.
He leaned over and nibbled the tip of her nose gently. "Then I'll be your boyfriend for as long as you want me to be," he said.
Hermione smiled broadly and took off to continue her bathroom routine, opening the first drawer of the counter to pull out some products and creams. Draco reached for his wand and before he left the room, he stopped in the doorway and turned back to her.
"Oh, Granger?" he called out.
She turned her attention to him. His face was soft, less petty.
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, Malfoy," she replied.
The sound of those words coming out of her own mouth, yet so simple, was new and unfamiliar, but it filled her with a new glow, like a dawn filled with promises.
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
When they went downstairs at lunchtime, they arrived together in the Great Hall and saw only Blaise sitting at the end of the Slytherin table, alone, with a pumpkin juice in his hand. When he saw them, he pushed himself aside to leave a seat open for the lucky one who would choose to take it.
It was Draco who took his place next to him, and immediately began to pour himself a glass of juice. Blaise noticed Hermione's flushed cheeks at once, the slightly repeated looks she gave her partner with that sort of stupid, embarrassed smile, and served herself some soup. Blaise looked over at Draco, who was glancing continuously at the Gryffindor over his glass.
"So..." Blaise blurted out. "How was your Valentine's Day?"
Hermione dropped her spoon, which clinked with a metallic sound against the table. "It was good," Draco replied. "The number of Muggle things I tasted…"
Blaise smirked. "Does that include Hermione?"
Hermione almost choked. "He means food, Blaise!" she hissed. "Food!"
"Well, you haven't denied it, haven't you?" Blaise smirk grew wider.
Draco bit his lips to prevent himself from laughing. Hermione gave Blaise one last intense glare, and tried to regain her composure, picking up her spoon again.
Her tone was back to normal when she spoke again. "I really liked the surprise. Draco flew me on his—"
"Granger, don't—" Draco warned.
"—broom." she finished.
Blaise's stupid face lit up. "Oh! So you flew on Draco's broom. Was it… fun? Was he able to — how do we say this — steer it properly? I mean… were you satisfied with the flight?"
"Uh, of course he steered it properly," Hermione frowned. "He's been playing Quidditch for—" Her eyes grew wide when she finally caught up. "Zabini, you idiot vicious—" She tried to come up with something mean. "—featherless Hippogriff!"
Draco was not quick enough to stifle his laughter, but he bit his lip as soon as Hermione's blazing eyes burned him. She furiously pointed her spoon at Blaise. Her face was red. "You kiss Ginny with that filthy mouth of yours?"
"Hermione, no—" Draco started again, seeing it coming.
"Kissing is not the only thing I do with my mouth!" Blaise shot back, grinning.
The brunette covered her ears and stopped talking, looking at her soup like she wanted to murder it. Draco started eating again, a ghost of a smile still on his lips, and Blaise continued to look at them one after the other. He finally rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling.
"Come on, I'm just joking, Mia! You guys slept together, so what? No shame in that!"
"Alright, Zab, that's enough," cut in Draco. "No need to talk about it."
"Funny that you just confirmed it, though," Blaise retorted. "I should have made a bet with Ginny."
"Where is she?" Hermione asked, still red with embarrassment, trying to avoid the subject.
"I don't know. Probably on her way to Potter and Weasley. That's one of the disadvantages of not sharing a dormitory..." he added with a very smug smile.
Neither Draco nor Hermione answered him and continued to eat their soup, silently, their eyes still finding their way into each other's. After a moment, Blaise helped himself to a piece of bread on which he spread a thick layer of butter and said, mouth full:
"By the way, Malfoy, I thought of something that might interest you."
"What's that?" replied Malfoy.
"You know, about your magic," he said, lowering his voice at the word magic, "I think there might be a way to learn to control these accidental magic burst episodes."
Draco automatically looked up at Hermione to see her reaction, still reeling from the shame he'd felt since he knew it was his own magic that was acting out of him.
"You mean, you think there's a way he can control his accidental magic?" asked Hermione.
Blaise nodded and took another bite of bread. "What if you learn to control this accidental magic? Instead of it coming out of you and breaking anything, you could try to feel it, until it's palpable, and redirect it to do what you want it to do."
Draco frowned. "I honestly have no idea how to do that. I don't even know if it's possible."
"You have to try, don't you?" Blaise offered.
"You forget that my... episodes happen, or at least happened, when I was particularly worried. Especially about... well, about Granger."
Hermione offered him a sad, but supportive smile. Blaise thought for a moment.
"Maybe in order to feel it, your magic I mean, you have to soak up those emotions, that panic, that worry. And once you feel it, you use it."
Draco took a piece of bread for himself. "It's not stupid, Zab, but I don't know."
"You just have to try..." Blaise insisted as he glanced at Hermione again.
The brunette read something in Blaise's eyes and hastened to add "I'll do some research," she said softly to Draco. "In the library. I'm sure we can find some information."
"Of course you'll go there," her boyfriend retorted. "I was waiting for you to suggest it."
Hermione, falsely offended, threw a piece of bread right at his forehead, which bounced and fell into his soup bowl under his nose, splashing some soup on his nose, upper lip, and chin. Draco retaliated in the same way, throwing a small piece of bread that hung in her hair.
"Children," Blaise sighed to himself, wiping his face dripping with soup.
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
Clive, Fergus and Willem had been the Aurors in charge of patrolling the castle since the beginning of January. There were many more Aurors on patrol, but these three were in charge of managing everyone's rounds and the distribution of 'zones'. Clive and Willem were mainly assigned to the interior of Hogwarts, while Fergus circulated much more on the outside fields. Once a week, they met just outside the castle grounds to review and exchange ideas for a plan to capture Duncan. At the Ministry, the Auror office had made no progress on this, but after Hermione's memories were received and analysed, Mackie's identity had been confirmed.
One evening Clive, Fergus and Willem were gathered outside the castle talking.
"The Malfoy boy was right after all," Clive said.
"You were the only one who doubted him," Fergus retorted. "Mr. Malfoy is a respectable young man."
Clive frowned, as if he'd just been fed a bad dish. "Respectable?" he repeated.
"Forget his father for a moment, Clive," Willem growled. "The boy has made himself useful."
Clive muttered under his breath. "Nothing's happened for three months anyway," he spat. "Mackie's not here. He's not anywhere."
"But we know he used Miss Parkinson to commit his thefts and to do his bidding in the castle," Fergus retorted. "We can't be absolutely certain that someone else is not under the Impero spell."
Willem nodded in agreement but Clive frowned. "Our job is not to make rounds, it's to hunt and catch dark wizards! We shouldn't have been assigned here, we're just wasting time!"
"So come up with a plan!" snarled Fergus. "Let's make ourselves useful and find a way to locate and catch this bastard!"
Clive crossed his arms over his chest and looked towards the Black Lake, thoughtful and frustrated. What does he want? What did Mackie, or MacMillan, whatever, want? What could lure him?
"A bait!" he hastily told his colleagues.
"What?" asked Willem.
"We have to bait him," Clive said. "Think about it. What happened in December?"
"He infiltrated the school grounds," said Fergus.
"That's right. But why?"
Willem and Fergus pursed their lips together, and Fergus frowned. "To eliminate Miss Granger," he said gravely.
"There you go."
"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?" Willem mumbled.
"He wants Hermione Granger dead," Clive explained. "I think once we've located him, we can just bait him with what he wants. We'll be there, of course, to watch and intervene at the right time! Nothing will happen to her."
"You're forgetting that Miss Granger isn't even allowed off the Hogwarts grounds until he's captured," Fergus said.
"I think it will be up to Miss Granger to decide if she wants to help capture him," said Clive.
"And Mr. Malfoy," muttered Fergus.
Clive and Willem paused, unsure if they had heard their colleague correctly.
Fergus looked at them in turn, eyebrows raised. "What? Haven't you noticed how that Slytherin is glued to her? He's never going to let her go and be used as bait."
Willem nodded and massaged his eyes, looking tired. "He's right," he sighed. "If the boy's reputation is any indication... he's a pretty tough and experienced wizard. He'd probably agree if he too could accompany Miss Granger and help capture MacMillan."
"But you're forgetting that this plan puts two Hogwarts students in danger," Fergus reminded. "Minerva won't give us permission."
Clive looked at him, almost amused, with a half-smile. "With all due respect, we're not under Minerva's authority. In the end, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger will have to decide for themselves. That is, if we are absolutely certain that the boy should be involved."
"Why not?" asked Willem.
"He's just a boy," Clive grumbled. "A stupid rich boy…"
"Is that prejudice I hear?" asked Fergus.
"Shut up, Fergus," Clive rebuffed him, "I just don't want us to be unlucky because of Malfoy."
"But you're forgetting one more thing," sighed Willem. "We need to know where he is first. Mackie."
"Maybe it would be nice to finally start talking to Miss Granger," Fergus offered with a shrug.
"Just because she dated him a few years ago doesn't mean she knows him inside and out," Clive cut in. "He's not the same man he used to be. You've seen it."
"Well, it's worth a try anyway, isn't it?" said Fergus.
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
On Wednesday evening, April 7th, Willem, Fergus, Clive, Draco and Hermione were all gathered in McGonagall's office under her attentive eye. Hermione was the only one sitting in a chair in front of the Headmistress' desk, while Draco was standing behind her, and the three Aurors were slightly spaced out by the wall. When Hermione had been called in, she had thought it was to tell her that Duncan had been captured or even that he was... dead. But the puzzled expressions of the Aurors answered her question.
"Duncan Mackie MacMillan hasn't been seen once in three months," Clive informed them.
He paused, as if waiting for someone to intervene or say something, but everyone was looking at him.
"Without any idea where he might be hiding, this is a mission that's likely to drag on for a long time."
Draco clenched his fists. "So what, at the end of the school year, as soon as Hermione leaves the castle, what happens? He's still out there! He's still free!"
McGonagall did not interfere with Draco's rising tone, but left it to the Aurors to deal with.
It was Willem who decided to answer. "It would be better to think about what we should do now rather than in two months."
"A lot can happen in two months," Draco snarled.
"Exactly," retorted Willem. He turned his attention back to Hermione, who was listening to the exchange without a word. "We just need some kind of lead, anything, that might tell us where he is," he said softly to the Gryffindor.
"I don't know him," Hermione whispered. "I'd really like to help you, I'd do anything to help you, but Duncan's not... he's not the same person I once knew."
"No particular place he liked to be alone?" Fergus asked.
Hermione shook her head. "I only knew him here, at Hogwarts... He would sometimes disappear, but always reappeared for his classes. Didn't you go to his house in Penshaw?"
"Obviously," said Clive. "Nothing."
"If we can't get him out of hiding," added Willem, "we've thought of…" He paused and looked at McGonagall out of the corner of his eye, "baiting him."
Draco felt the fire going to his head. "Bait him with what?" he snapped through his teeth.
"With whatever he wants," Clive replied.
The three Aurors looked down at Hermione, who was motionless in her chair. Before she could realise what they meant, Draco and McGonagall spoke at the same time.
"You're out of your damn minds!" exclaimed Draco.
"That's not an option!" exclaimed the Headmistress.
Fergus frowned and shifted his posture. "Please, if you'll allow us to explain—"
"There is nothing to explain," Draco scolded. "Hermione isn't going to go wandering around alone as bait in hopes of luring that psycho out of his hole!"
"If you don't mind me saying so, Mr. Malfoy," Willem interjected, "we didn't mean to imply that you couldn't be there."
"What?" gasped Draco and Hermione at the same time.
Willem explained the plan that Clive had shared with his colleagues the day before. McGonagall listened patiently, but the Aurors could already read on the Heads faces that they were not against the idea, and were even looking willing.
"Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger," McGonagall snapped, eyes wide, "I cannot allow you to be a part of this mission!"
"Professor," Hermione whispered, softly, "I understand your concern. But this is not a school matter. We're students here, yes, but this mission is about the whole Wizarding world. If this is really the only thing I can do to help capture him so that everyone can be safe, then I won't deny myself the opportunity."
"Neither will I," Draco said firmly.
For the Slytherin, it was more about not leaving Hermione, his new girlfriend, alone with a dangerous monster prowling around to devour her.
The Headmistress looked sad. She knew, deep down, that she had no authority over two adults, even if they were her students, but moreover, she could not interfere with the duties of a Ministry of Magic Department. It was not under her jurisdiction.
"So the plan would be to get you out and hope he finds out you're out of Hogwarts," Clive said.
"It won't work," Draco blurted out, arms crossed.
The Aurors all looked at him blankly. The young wizard continued to think as fast as his heartbeat. Ideas, theories, assumptions were racing through his head.
"Instead of letting the fish come to the bait," he continued, "you should bring the bait to the fish."
"At the risk of repeating ourselves," Fergus replied, "no one knows where he is."
"What if we know where he will be?" Draco said.
Hermione frowned and craned her neck in her chair to look up at her partner from below. His eyes were fixed squarely on the three Aurors.
"I don't think I quite follow you," Clive said, sounding a little harsh.
"If I were an ex-Death Eater on the run—" Draco began before pausing, a mischievous smile hanging on his lips despite himself. He shook his head, amused. "The irony of this was unintentional, of course. Anyway. If I were an ex-Death Eater, but also a murderer who sought to torment my prey for months with the sole purpose of making it suffer, I would make sure I didn't miss a second time."
Everyone listened to him, waiting for him to proceed. Seeing that he had captured everyone's attention, Draco uncrossed his arms and spoke with a little more confidence. "I don't know if this was obvious to you after looking at Duncan's memories, which were in Hermione's memories, but Duncan, called Mackie, was trained by the same Death Eater I was."
He waited for someone to interrupt him, but no one did. "Bellatrix. I have the same training as Mackie. "No," he added, glaring at Clive, "that doesn't mean I'm a psychopath like him. But I can understand how he operates. He somehow found out that Hermione was still alive and that she is now protected at Hogwarts with the presence of many Aurors. He's no fool. He's not going to run here again. If I were a psychopath who was desperate to trap my prey once and for all, I would station myself in a place where I was sure that my prey would turn up sooner or later. I would spend days, weeks, months waiting. And finally, when it would show up, I would act. So it can't be a crowded, public place."
Hermione swallowed hard and watched the effect of Draco's words on each of the faces. Fergus looked impressed, Willem looked thoughtful, and Clive was slightly disturbed by Draco himself.
"Don't look at me like that," Draco grumbled. "You knew all along that I have certain... dark roots."
"We still have to find that place where Miss Granger is bound to be sooner or later..." Willem muttered.
Once again, the focus shifted to the Gryffindor. As if to activate her brain, she stood up and began pacing to focus. Stand in one place, uncrowded and not very public. Waiting for her. Where could Duncan be waiting for her? Where was he sure she'd come, sooner or later? And not necessarily protected or surrounded?
She stopped in the middle of the office, then swung around quickly. "I have a place in mind, and even a date," she said, gravely.
That's my girl, Draco thought with pride.
"April 21st is my brother's birthday. I was planning to go to the graveyard," she finished in a breath. "He could very well be waiting for me there. Chiswick graveyard, in London."
"The wizards' graveyard?" Clive muttered to himself. "A graveyard, that makes sense…"
"We'll have to check," said Fergus. "First we'll have to see if he's really there."
"If he notices you, he'll run away," Draco said.
"We know how to do our job, Mr. Malfoy," Willem replied with a friendly smile.
The three Aurors shifted their posture and prepared to end the meeting. Clive adjusted his cloak around his neck.
"We'll take the lead this week," said Fergus. "The Office will arrange for replacements while we're away. We'll keep you informed and communicate with you by owl. Thank you, Miss Granger. All the best."
"Good luck," breathed Clive.
McGonagall hurried to her feet to meet them before they left her office.
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
The Auror profession involved frequent use of Polyjuice. It was a way to go unnoticed and to blend in with the crowd. Only Fergus took the potion to look like a twenty-four year old wizard bringing flowers to his mother's grave. One of the buttons on his shirt allowed his colleagues to see and hear what was going on, like a Muggle camera, and a little device called a Sonic Trap was stuck in his ear to allow his colleagues to talk to him. All Clive and Willem had to do was enlarge a duplicate of this button and look through it. Fergus had apparated right next to the entrance to the graveyard, while Clive and Willem were stationed on the roof of the nearest building, concealed by invisibility and mute charms. The Chiswick Baptist Church was in plain view at the end of the abandoned street.
Fergus, flower bouquet in hand, moved through the rows of gravestones, respectfully. He had counted two other people in the graveyard. He had to look certain that he knew where to go and which gravestone to stop at. Subtly, he observed the names and dates on the graves to determine which one would match his false identity. He finally stopped in front of Monica Treeburn, a mother who had drowned due to Grindylows.
Fergus laid the flowers in front of the gravestone in a solemn manner. The wind whistled gently around him and between the graves. The sky was white and cloudy, and bright.
His Sonic Trap vibrated in his ear. "Try to turn around a bit," Willem's voice asked, a little distorted in his ear. "We need to see the others."
Fergus complied and pretended to observe the nature around him, turning his torso towards the other visitors of the graveyard, scattered here and there between the rows. There was a young woman with long black hair and an old man leaning on his cane. The Auror turned back to the gravestone before him, silent.
"Wait," Clive cut in abruptly in his ear. "Show me the woman again."
Fergus waited and faked a coughing fit. Concealing his cough in his elbow, he pivoted again and turned away from the grave. His torso faced the young woman, standing still with her hands stuffed into her black overcoat. The Auror looked at her discreetly, trying to get a better look at her face, but she wasn't paying him any attention. She looked familiar, but he didn't know why.
"Do you see what I see, Fergus?" asked Clive in his ear.
"No," Fergus muttered quietly, knowing that his colleagues would hear him.
"She is the only one who does not look at a gravestone. The other has his head bent over a stone, and even you do, but not her."
"So what?" Fergus heard Willem blurt out.
"So we don't go to the graveyard to look up and around," Clive replied sarcastically.
Fergus pursed his lips and kept glancing at the young woman. The old man apparated and disappeared. The young woman had started to pace a little, before stopping in front of a gravestone. She bowed her head, as if praying.
Fergus sighed. "She's clear, guys."
He heard one of his colleagues sigh in his ear as well. A loud pop echoed through the graveyard and a witch appeared, dressed in a red cloak; she was short with long brown hair. With her back to him, she could almost be mistaken for Hermione Granger. Fergus watched the young black haired woman's reaction. Her gaze had lingered for two seconds too long.
"Weird," Fergus muttered.
"Come back," Willem ordered.
Fergus kissed his fingers and placed them on the gravestone as a salute, memorised the location of the stone and the name on it. He apparated to the roof right next to his colleagues.
"Weird, indeed," said Clive.
"I don't know how we're going to work out which of these visitors could potentially be Mackie," Fergus huffed. "Let's assume he's using Polyjuice too. Anyone could be behaving a bit strangely in a graveyard."
"I wish I could have seen the grave she looked at," Willem blurted out. "Maybe we should wait until she leaves? Imagine this is really Mackie... Shouldn't he be waiting by Samuel Granger's gravestone?"
The Aurors nodded and glanced down into the cemetery, further and lower. The young woman was a little black speck. The one with the brown hair and red coat had already disappeared.
"The daily visits don't seem to last long for the visitors…" Clive observed. "The other visitors who arrived after you have already left. But not her."
"But not her..." Willem repeated thoughtfully.
They waited ten minutes. The little black figure did not move. Twenty minutes. It was much longer than a "normal" visit, and they didn't know how long she had been there since Fergus had arrived after her.
"She'll eventually feel some kind of need," Clive muttered. "She'll be hungry or have to pee."
"We'll have to jump at the chance as soon as she disappears," said Fergus. "She might come back a few minutes later."
The opportunity presented itself when the young woman apparated unexpectedly. Fergus, with the Polyjuice still running in his veins, didn't hesitate for a second and apparated a quarter of a second later. He landed as precisely as possible on the exact spot the young woman had just left. He didn't know which of the three gravestones in the young woman's corner was the one she was looking at, but he read the names out loud for his colleagues to note and remember.
"Alaster Brown, Tabitha Silverwind and Angela Jenkins."
He immediately apparated back to the roof. Willem looked at him with a frown. "We know that name..." he whispered.
"Which one?" asked Fergus.
"Angela. We've seen her in Mackie's memories. She was Samuel's girlfriend."
"And Mackie's…" Clive clarified.
"Mackie was visiting her older sister," Willem added, still thinking. "I can't remember her name."
"Neither can I," admitted Fergus. "But we'd find her in the archives."
"That would take forever," sighed Willem. "We don't have the time."
"Let's go back and talk to Miss Granger," Clive said. "She'll know. Two of us should stay here and keep watching her, if the woman comes back."
Fergus nodded and nudged Willem.
"Well, then I'll go back to Hogwarts," Clive concluded. "I'll come back with some information."
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
In McGonagall's office, Clive was back two days later. Draco and Hermione had been summoned again. It was easier to have private meetings than to risk being overheard in the castle. Clive had explained what they had done the day before.
"We believe the young woman we saw is Angela's older sister," Clive said.
"Ivana?" Hermione asked, eyebrows furrowed.
The Auror snapped his fingers before pointing at her. "That's the name we forgot! Yes, Ivana."
"Have you spoken to her?" asked Draco, a bit of a grunt. He still hadn't come to like this particular Auror, probably because this one didn't trust him.
Clive shook his head. "It would be suspicious to talk to her in a graveyard," he said. "Our identity, or at least Fergus's, might be compromised."
Hermione rested her hand against her chin and thought. She had just come out of her morning class when McGonagall had sent her a personal note informing her of another meeting before lunch. The brunette looked at the Headmistress, who was patiently listening to the exchange, her long slender fingers crossed in front of her. When she intercepted the gaze of her Head Girl, she smiled warmly. She had never underestimated the true courage of Gryffindors, let alone the very strong and visible bravery of Hermione Granger.
Draco watched his partner think. He was trying to think, too, to imagine himself in Duncan's shoes. Mackie's. He wished he could just reach out and touch the small of her back, or put his hand just behind her neck to stroke her hair and help her relax. Just the thought that a murderer, possibly right now, was waiting somewhere to hurt her made him sick.
"You have to talk to her," Hermione finally said. "Try. I know her address, I can give it to you."
"Why should we go to her house to talk to her?" Clive asked.
Draco was tempted to be sarcastic. He rolled his eyes and switched his stance. To him, the answer was obvious.
"Because you don't know if that woman is Ivana or Mackie," he grumbled. "Both Mackie and Ivana have an emotional connection to Angela. Both have reasons to be at the graveyard."
Clive felt his throat go dry with the sense of embarrassment that washed over him. How could an insufferable teenager manage to give leads, excellent logical leads, to this mission? He gritted his teeth. He didn't want to admit it, but they definitely needed the Slytherin's input.
"What do you think, Miss Granger?" he asked the young witch.
"Draco's right. The only way to find out is to talk to her."
Clive nodded resolutely. Hermione gave him the address on a piece of parchment. When Clive read it, he knew that they were not going to be able to apparate very precisely. They never had any business in Bloomsbury. A Portkey would probably be necessary, which meant a visit to the Ministry. He left them quickly, thanking them, still bitter about the young Malfoy's intervention.
Once Clive had disappeared and McGonagall had sent them off to lunch, Hermione and Draco made their way down the spiral staircase together. As the Gryffindor swung around, Draco pulled the brunette against him and she nestled against his chest.
"We'll find him," he whispered. "We're really close."
"I know," she breathed against his wizard's robes.
He peeled her off him and kissed her forehead. "Do you still have your magic coin on you?"
She nodded and gently patted her chest. Draco nibbled his lip, amused, and leaned sensually into her ear. "Don't tempt me, Granger," he whispered. "I know more than one way to retrieve that coin..."
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
After stopping by the Ministry to register for a Portkey to Bloomsbury, Clive returned to the graveyard to see his colleagues. They were in the same place, on the roof. Twelve hours had passed since he had left them. He wondered if they had slept. Squinting, Clive noticed again the small black dot of the female figure in the graveyard.
"She's back?" he asked.
Fergus nodded. "About five minutes after you left yesterday. We calculated that she leaves for ten minutes every three hours. And she drinks something. She left for thirty minutes only once."
"At dinner time?" guessed Clive.
Willem nodded. Clive then told them about his conversation in McGonagall's office and the hypothesis that the young Malfoy had stated.
"He's right," Fergus said. "We need to talk to her. Maybe it's Mackie."
"I know," Clive grunted, displeased that his colleague agreed with the Slytherin.
"I think we should go without a disguise," Fergus suggested. "We're Aurors and we're doing our job. We have every right to go to her house and ask her questions."
"Two should go to her house while the other stays here watching her," Willem suggested, pointing to the small figure in the distance in the graveyard. "We must not let her out of our sight while the other goes to her house. If the 'real' Ivana answers the door, then we've found our imposter."
Clive pursed his lips. It was the best possible solution, and the most logical. "I volunteer to stay here," he said. "You two can use the Portkey to go to Bloomsbury. I'll wait for you right here."
"Okay," Willem agreed.
"When was her last ten-minute absence?" Clive asked.
Fergus looked at his watch. "Fifty-five minutes ago. We've got at least two more hours before she leaves."
Clive placed the Portkey, a porcelain cup, on the floor and handed the piece of parchment with the address to his colleagues. A few seconds later they had grabbed the Portkey and disappeared, spinning through the air. Clive remained on the roof, his eyes fixed on the small black dot in the graveyard.
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
Draco, Hermione, Blaise and Ginny were all together in the Heads' dorm on the evening of April 10th. Blaise and Ginny were sprawled out on the double sofa and Hermione was seated in one of the armchairs. Draco had his back to the fireplace, standing in front of them. A layer of sweat covered his forehead and his hands were shaking. Hermione didn't like to see him so stressed, but she knew it was necessary. His eyes moved frantically under his close eyelids.
Draco had finally started to train his accidental magic. At least, he was trying. He wasn't sure if it would work. Hermione had already spent a lot of time in the library trying to read up on the subject, but it was not a well-known subject and no proven research existed. So Draco tried the trial and error method. He would find out what would work...
Blaise guided him with advice he thought was right, like "Try to imagine someone hurting her" or "Whatever emotion you're feeling now, try to let it fill you up."
Draco would have preferred to practice alone, or at the very least only with Hermione, but Blaise's presence was helping him in some way. He had been trying for at least fifteen minutes to focus on the feeling of anger he had felt when he had seen Hermione's body in the snow in the Forest. But no magic was flowing out of him or moving anything.
He opened his eyes suddenly and wiped his forehead. "The feeling must be genuine," he growled. "In a real situation."
"You can't do that," Blaise cut in. "You know that."
Draco raised his arms and let them fall back helplessly. "Then maybe it's just not fucking possible!"
He hated the idea that he couldn't accomplish something. Silence fell in the living room and Ginny shyly interlaced her fingers with Blaise's. She looked at Hermione, who gave her a sympathetic smile. The brunette stood up and placed herself right in front of her partner. She hugged him, unashamedly, right in front of her friends.
"I'm sure you can do it," she breathed to encourage him, even though she doubted it herself, not because she doubted Draco's abilities, but because even magic had its limits.
Draco wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his cheek softly against the top of her head, oblivious to the gaze of others. He didn't answer and simply let the soothing scent of the delicate perfume of her hair carry him away.
"If—" Ginny squeaked after a moment, "if I may... if controlling intense negative emotions is like allowing yourself to be filled with them until you feel them tangible, then maybe—"
She paused, unsure of her own hypothesis and worried about looking foolish. Blaise squeezed her hand to encourage her to continue. Ginny swallowed.
"Maybe it's just like a Patronus," she finished, before clearing her throat.
Hermione let out a bemused gasp and pulled away from Draco, glaring at her redheaded friend. "Gin, that's brilliant!" she exclaimed.
Ginny smiled shyly and turned her attention to Draco. "When you do a Patronus, you fill yourself with the most beautiful memory you have," she explained. "The feeling of pure joy must inhabit you completely again. It must reach every part of your soul until the spell can feed off it and come out."
Draco nodded. "That's not stupid, Freckles," he said, "but with a Patronus, there's actually an incantation. What I'm trying to do has no ties to anything concrete."
Ginny fell silent and Hermione followed her lead, thinking. It was Blaise who stood up and spoke at last. "Magic exists without incantation," he said. "If you can fill yourself with your feeling like a Patronus, and then make it do what you want. Wandless magic."
Draco took a long breath and held his oxygen in his throat before exhaling. "I'll keep trying," he finally breathed. "Merlin, I'm hungry."
Blaise looked at all his friends in turn. "So, I'm the only one who can't do a Patronus, right?" he sighed.
Ginny came back to take his hand. "Not yet," she smiled.
A few seconds later, a small plane of parchment slammed into the window of Hermione's room. The Gryffindor went into her room and picked up the fallen plane from the windowsill and unfolded it. She returned to the common room.
"Draco, we have to go back to McGonagall's office," she said.
"Now?" he asked.
"Now."
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
In McGonagall's office, for the third time in three days, the two Head Prefects and the three Aurors were all gathered with the Headmistress.
"We met Ivana!" exclaimed Willem, sounding flustered. "In her house."
He was visibly upset, while Fergus was pacing around. Draco and Hermione were unsure of what to say, but it was Clive who laid eyes on them.
"They went to visit Ivana at her home while I watched her in the graveyard," he said. "She never moved."
"And Ivana, the real one, only goes to the graveyard once a month," Fergus added.
Hermione swallowed and felt the weight of the information against her chest. She lifted her chin to brace herself. "So the person in the graveyard is not Ivana but is hanging around Angela's grave," she rephrased.
Willem nodded vigorously. "The only way to find out if it's really Mackie is to... take you there."
"I wonder if he really knows that my brother's birthday is on the 21st of April," Hermione muttered to herself.
Draco kept his eyes on his shoes as he said, "Oh, he knows. Trust me. And if he didn't, all the birth and death dates are written on the gravestone anyway. Something tells me he could have scanned all the gravestones to find your brother's birthday."
Hermione sighed. He was right.
"On April 21st, you'll both go to the graveyard," Clive said. "Don't worry, you'll be watched carefully. Fergus will already be there, looking like someone else, and Willem will be disguised as a wizard gardener. And I will be watching you from a rooftop."
He looked at the two young wizards as if to ask their consent once and for all. Draco blinked, bit his lips and took a deep breath. Thoughts as eclectic and fast as fireworks. They could succeed. They didn't have to do anything. Just go to the graveyard. They didn't even have to interact with "Ivana". As soon as she made a threatening move towards them, three Aurors would be ready to pounce.
Draco nodded and Hermione followed suit, determined.
"Are they in any danger?" asked McGonagall suddenly.
The three Aurors were surprised by the Headmistress' intervention, as she hardly ever spoke at their meetings, but it was Fergus who opened his mouth in a softened voice.
"No, Ma'am," he said. "We are confident in our abilities, and we will not let them out of our sight. Obviously, we are relying on their own qualities…"
"If I sense any danger for Hermione, I'll apparate her out immediately," Draco said firmly, "whether the plan succeeds or fails. It's her safety first."
"Obviously, Mr. Malfoy," Fergus gasped. "We would never agree to compromise Miss Granger's safety and we trust your judgement to flee the scene if necessary."
Hermione's throat was raw. She was thirsty. Looking down at her hands, she realised they were shaking slightly. The Slytherin next to her brushed her hand with the tip of his index finger. She wanted more than anything to stop Duncan, and she knew that she would only be better protected by Draco Malfoy.
-:.:.:.:.:.:-
Wednesday April 21st arrived. McGonagall had given them a free period in the afternoon. It was not without saying that she was terribly nervous. She herself couldn't think of a better plan to capture Duncan, but she wished she hadn't involved two students.
Draco felt a mixture of emotions, nervousness and anger intertwined. But he was very, if not extremely, determined. The nervousness he felt was totally focused on Hermione. He was prepared for any eventuality.
Hermione and Draco headed together to Hogsmeade for their meeting with Willem and Clive. That day, the Gryffindor wore a grey felt coat and her scarf in Gryffindor colours. The point was obviously to make her easily recognisable. Her hair was loose, wild and curly, and flowed down her back. Typical Hermione. An Auror they had never spoken to accompanied them to Hogsmeade, but that didn't stop the two Heads from holding hands.
When they reached the village, Willem spotted them and waved them over, and the Auror who had accompanied them turned back after a brief nod to his colleague. Draco squeezed his partner's hand as they walked towards Willem, stationed right next to the Three Broomsticks.
"You still want to do this?" Draco asked.
Hermione didn't answer right away. She pulled the scarf tighter around her neck and cleared her throat. "Yes. If we don't do this, it could take months to capture him. Or years. We can't afford that."
Draco nodded. "And… what about your brother's birthday?"
The brunette bit her lower lip. Her boots creaked against the ground. "I wish I'd celebrated him differently," she admitted. "I wish he'd just been there."
Draco raised their joined hands and kissed her knuckles. "When we get back, we can celebrate. In your own way."
She smiled fondly at him and they finally reached Willem. He greeted them briefly and led them to the back of the pub, where Clive was waiting. He was dressed in his Auror attire. He handed Willem a flask.
"Your costume," he said almost cheerfully.
Willem took the flask and stuffed it under his coat. Clive rubbed his hands together as he began his explanation. "We'll apparate to the roof first. You two," he said, pointing to Draco and Hermione, "will walk from there. Willem will apparate a few minutes after you arrive. Fergus is already there. If you see a shriveled old lady, that's him."
Hermione nodded.
"Do you have your wands ready?" Clive asked.
"Yes," the Slytherin agreed.
"I just want to know..." Hermione began, "Do we have to wait for him to reveal his identity before you grab him?"
"He has to give away who he is," Willem clarified. He'll never shout 'I'm Duncan,' so if he displays any sign of hostility towards you, we'll act. As soon as we're in motion, don't be a hero. Apparate. Got it?"
The two young wizards nodded together. Clive and Willem held out their arms and they all clasped hands, forming a square. They side-apparated and landed on the roof, at Chiswick. Willem uncapped his flask and took a deep gulp, grimacing slightly. Clive, meanwhile, pointed to the graveyard below and beyond, where two people were located.
"Ivana is there," Clive pointed to a black silhouette further to the right of the graveyard, "and Fergus is there." He pointed to another silhouette towards the centre of the graveyard, standing still in front of a grave.
"What happens if there's a fight?" Hermione worried. "There are other people around here!"
"I'll secure the graveyard as soon as you get there," Clive replied. "Very few wizards come here anyway. There's only a shoe shop at the end of the street."
The Lioness nodded and Draco took her hand. Willem had already turned into a different person. He was now wearing a bright yellow wizard's robe, like all wizard gardeners, and his skin was dark. Draco and Hermione stood up and walked through the door that was on the roof. They went down the stairs and realised that they were in an old wand shop, abandoned for years.
Hermione's hand was shaking in Draco's palm. He led them outside, where they made their way to the entrance of the graveyard without haste. Hermione purposely kept her eyes glued to her feet, refusing to make eye contact with 'Ivana'. Slowly, they began to scan the gravestones, hoping that Samuel's was not too close to Ivana. Draco kept his hand firmly pressed around the brunette's. This was the first time she had come to visit her brother. And she wasn't sure she could call it a "real" visit.
An old lady, a little further away, was giving them frequent glances. Fergus. The two young wizards continued to move slowly between the rows, Hermione examining the names of the graves on the right, Draco those on the left. They needed all the self-control they could muster to keep from looking at Ivana. The Aurors had it covered. Ivana hadn't moved yet. Hermione realised that in order to maintain the illusion that they weren't on a mission, they had no choice but to get closer to her, at least to look at the graves. They couldn't look suspicious, or Duncan, if it was him, would figure it out. And everything would fall apart.
So they approached the place where Ivana was. They finally found Samuel's gravestone, two rows in front of Ivana, just a little sideways. They hated having their backs to her. Draco felt like apparating immediately. How could he stay on the lookout if his back was to his enemy?
Hermione shivered, staring at her brother's grave. The Slytherin at her side turned his head to her and noticed, not surprisingly, that she was crying silently. He put his arm around her shoulders to comfort her. The silence was solemn and he would have rather come to the graveyard and live this hard moment with Hermione without having to play bait. A strange possibility entered his head when he thought that maybe this woman was really Ivana, and the woman the Aurors had met at her house was... Duncan. Could it be that nothing would happen? If it really was Ivana in the graveyard, wouldn't she have waved to Hermione by now? No, because she hates her already...
Draco realized that Willem should have already apparated by now. Subtly, he turned slightly to try and get a look at the rooftop they had gotten off of in hopes of spotting something. He squinted. He could have sworn he saw two bodies moving, but he couldn't make out what they were doing. The rooftop was far. He stared again, concentrating to see better, and had the impression that the figures, most likely the two Aurors, were waving their arms over their heads. Were they signalling to them? Had they removed the invisibility charm they had casted over the rooftop just so they could wave at him?
Something was wrong.
A horrible feeling rushed through the blonde wizard and he bent towards Hermione. "We have to leave," he urged, whispering. "Abort the mission."
He didn't wait any longer and took her hand and tried to apparate. It didn't work. He tried again and failed. He swore, and his eyes widened with horror at Hermione, who was glaring at him in the same way. She tried to apparate too, but she couldn't.
Fuck, Draco thought, feeling the pangs of panic beating up inside him. Fuck, fuck, fuck…
Instinctively, he reached into his coat to withdraw his wand, when everything happened. As the two Heads swung round to finally face Ivana, they saw that she had been quicker than them and was already pointing her wand at the old lady. She did not hesitate for a second.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Hermione shouted and the old lady fell to the ground, motionless. Fergus. He hadn't even had time to blink. Draco, without further thought, pushed his partner to the ground to get her out of the way and he let the anger fill him. He didn't care if it was Ivana or Duncan.
"CRUCIO!" he shouted, wand pointed at Ivana's evil twisted face. "Hermione, run! Go away!"
Naturally, she didn't listen to him and started to fight back.
"Good girl," Ivana simpered.
Her voice sounded like a woman's, and Draco really wondered if it truly was Mackie. The Aurors left on the roof hadn't apparated for some reason Draco didn't know, but they were probably running to their rescue, right? Hermione broke into a sideways run to attack Ivana from behind. Ivana wouldn't be able to watch both her front and her back. But much to the surprise of the Snake and the Lioness, she lunged at Hermione, racing after her like a bolt of lightning.
"HERMIONE, RUN!" shouted Draco, rushing after Ivana.
He screamed every spell he knew to hit her, but to his dismay, she had managed to grab a flap of Hermione's coat and pulled her back. Ivana, viciously, pressed Hermione's back against her. She now had a knife in the same hand in which she held her wand. Draco stopped abruptly. His worst nightmare had come true before his eyes, and he was sure he was going to see his beloved butchered in front of him.
"You knew," he growled. "How did you know?"
"Oh, you won't be the one asking questions," smiled Ivana. "Give me your wand."
Draco frowned. He was trapped. Ivana, whom he was pretty sure now was Mackie, was holding Hermione in front of her like a shield, with a knife pointed at her throat. It reminded him of the horrible scene at the Manor when Bellatrix had threatened Hermione in the same way. His gut churned.
"Give me your wand, pretty boy," the dark haired woman repeated.
Hermione tried to break free, but Ivana held her back by grabbing a fistful of her hair. The Lioness wailed in pain and stopped moving, and Draco impulsively stepped towards her.
"Not so fast," Ivana snarled. "I said, give me your wand."
"DRACO, NO," shouted an Auror, whom Draco recognised as Willem, further behind him.
Him and Clive had finally arrived at the cemetery and were panting, covered in sweat. As soon as Ivana saw them, she pressed the blade a little harder against Hermione's skin, and a bead of blood slid down the brunette's neck.
"STOP!" cried Draco, sounding panicky despite himself.
"You come any closer and I'll kill her," Ivana warned.
Willem, who still looked like the gardener in the yellow robe, and Clive both wore stunned expressions, obviously unsure of what to do.
"Stay away," Draco ordered the Aurors.
"She applied the Anti-Apparition Jinx on the graveyard as soon as you came in," said Willem. "Non-verbally. We couldn't apparate inside and come quickly."
"Or apparate out," Draco added, now understanding.
Keeping Hermione alive was his only priority. He could see in her eyes that she didn't want him to listen to a single word from Mackie's mouth. He knew her well enough. She didn't want him to risk his own life, but she could risk her own if it meant giving the Aurors a chance to capture him.
But Draco refused. He grabbed his wand from the middle so Ivana could see he wasn't going to use it and held his arm out in front of him.
"Draco, stop," Hermione moaned.
Ivana tugged savagely on her hair to shut her up. Hermione fell silent. Draco noticed that Ivana's face was starting to morph. The first thing he noticed was a very pale tattoo appearing on the skin of her neck.
"Drop your wands," Ivana commanded the Aurors.
They didn't move a muscle. Clive kept glancing at the motionless figure of the old woman on the floor, whom he knew to be his colleague, now dead. Rage distorted his features.
"Do as she says," the Slytherin begged, his throat dry.
Willem dropped his wand first. Clive followed a few seconds later. They had lost.
"Good boys," the woman mewed. "Now give me your wand, Draco."
Her voice was getting deeper and deeper. Her hair was getting shorter and paler, her tattoo darker, and Draco could swear she was getting taller.
He stepped towards Ivana, wand still held horizontally in front of him. "Release her first," he spat.
"Your wand first," she crooned, now in a purely male voice.
He was weighing the odds that he could actually aim right, even with Hermione in the line of fire. It was too risky. He couldn't take that risk. He turned his eyes to the two Aurors for a few seconds. There were three of them, four including Hermione, against one person. Even if Mackie was skilled, he wasn't as strong to win one on four. They could take him down. They could manage to capture him.
They could…
If only he hadn't caught Hermione.
When Draco looked back at Hermione, it was no longer Ivana holding her, but Duncan. Mackie. Tall, maybe even a little taller than him, broad-shouldered. He seemed to tower over them all with a cruel blue gaze, blond hair falling in front of his eyes and curling behind his neck. A neat black tattoo ran across the skin of his neck. His expression was wild, primal and cruel.
"I'm saying this for the last time," he said, his voice low and impatient, "give me your fucking wand."
Seeing that Draco was still hesitating, Duncan tightened his grip on Hermione and leaned his head against her, sliding his tongue across her cheek. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut in disgust and Draco felt a thunder of rage rain down on him like tonguefuls of fire. If he fucking dares to touch her again...
Boiling, he closed the distance between them and held out his wand to Duncan, who snatched it from his hand. Immediately Duncan grabbed his wrist and apparated the three of them. The two Aurors didn't have time to blink to realize that Mackie had somehow lifted the Anti-Apparition Jinx on the graveyard and had successfully abducted Draco and Hermione.
Only once I saw the killer
Once I saw the killer up close
Heaven's over now
I know it's gone
I know it's over now
If colder heavens come
Carry me further down
Colder Heavens, Blanco White
oOoOoOoOo
Hello dear readers, I will do my very best to post the last few chapters on time (once a week). I'm in the middle of writing chapter 39 right now and it's going slow because of school and well, life. I hope you liked this long chapter (I think it's my longest?). Let me know :-)
Love, Axiomea