March 2006

When the call for the next attack came, Draco was standing in front of the bulletin board in his office with Theo, once again going over the collected evidence. So far, Theo and Blaise had been able to match up wound marks that bore similarities between victims; they calculated there were at least six werewolves, two hags, one vampire, and one giant. Theo was adamant that what they thought was a simple Severing charm was something different. He had pointed out that the cuts were not entirely perfect, the edges of skin and tissues having curled back from the bones. He had tried a few experiments on dead pigs to try and replicate the effects.

"It's irritating to say the least," Theo grumbled and pointed again to the photos hung side by side, "I've tried several different variations of words, movements, the usual, even accents. And nothing. Absolutely nothing comes close to matching this curling."

"It's not from the body being exposed to the elements? Maybe insects or something got to it?"

Theo shook his head, "No, I already went over all of that with Adrianna to be sure. Blaise even tested out some insects he thought might cause the curling. We left several of the experiments that had simple Severing charms in enclosed stasis bubbles with different biospheres. Couldn't find anything that comes close. I'm also suspecting that this new curse is inflicted while they're alive, as a form of torture."

Draco nodded, "That does fall in with Greyback's preferred methods. You look more troubled than usual when you're experimenting?"

Theo had his arms across his chest, one hand under his chin while he absentmindedly bit his thumbnail and started rambling, "You know exactly what I'm thinking: if they've developed a new torture curse, they're testing it out. Perfecting it. That means at some point, they're going to start using it en masse and soon with how they've escalated. And I have no idea what spell causes it so I cannot come up with a counter-curse or anything to stop it. On top of that, this level of work is on par with what my father used. There's only a few Death Eaters possibly left unaccounted for who could be helping Greyback with this, and if it's who I think it is–"

There was a swift knock on the office door and it opened before either man could acknowledge it. Blaise looked grim as he stepped through the doorway.

"Another one has been found. This time near Hogwarts."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Theo exclaimed while stomping out of Draco's office. Blaise looked towards Draco, a confused look adorning his face. The blond shook his head and turned to quickly gather his lighter cloak and wand from his desk.

"He was going on a tangent again about the spell work. Obviously not amused," Draco walked towards Blaise, securing his wand in his forearm holster. Theo came back into the office with a huff, securing the buckle on his cloak.

"Of course I'm not amused. Why can't they just take a damn break…" he started to grumble until the looks on his teammate's faces stopped him, "What?"

"Theo, mate," Blaise started, carefully watching Theo, "Honestly, are you doing ok? Have you been taking the proper breaks between the experiments? You're much more…unhinged than usual when you're working on a curse."

Draco carefully looked over Theo. The man stood eye level with Draco and Blaise; his brown curls slicked back on the sides with his usual fringe hanging across his forehead. Draco noted how Theo's stance was tense, almost like he would spring into action at any second; his usual smirk replaced by a frown and his eyes…there was something wrong…

"Theo, when's the last time you detoxed?" Malfoy asked rather slowly and watched his reaction. His eyes were shifty and Draco could see a hint of something creep up the whites of his eyes.

"Yesterday morning. But I'm fine. I'll take a break from experiments for a few days and stay home and detox, all right?"

Draco and Blaise exchanged a look before nodding, not wanting to agitate Theo any further. It was the price they paid for using Dark Magic. It corrupted you, seeped into your soul the more it was used. Theo had figured out a way to sort of detox the system to purge most of the Dark, but it never fully went away. Small tendrils always lingered, always slipping into their minds, changing them. Draco was thankful he rarely had to use Dark Magic anymore, Blaise as well. Unfortunately for Theo, it was quite literally his job. And with the current case and how stubborn and pig-headed he would normally be when a riddle was proving to be difficult, Draco worried his friend was going too far. He made a mental note to check on Theo after they secured this scene, ensuring that his friend took proper care of himself. He knew Blaise would as well and if Theo gave them trouble, Draco would just need to lightly threaten to out his little secret rendezvous with a certain redhead…

The three men Apparated with a loud crack, their combined Apparitions leaving behind a burnt spot on the floor of Draco's office. They appeared at the edge of the grounds at Hogwarts, the Med and Forensic teams already securing the scene with a stasis bubble. It was nearing sunset and there were no students on the grounds. As the men approached, Headmistress McGonagall met them halfway with her hands trembling, trying to still them by clutching her robes. She let out a deep breath as she looked over her three former students.

"Headmistress," they chimed together with a nod.

"Oh, gentlemen, you three are a welcome sight even under these terrible circumstances," she said with a half-smile and turned to walk alongside them to the stasis bubble. "She was found by a student who was walking along the lake. The poor dear screamed and fainted. Thankfully another group of students were nearby and alerted a teacher right away. We called everyone back into the castle immediately and went into lockdown."

"Thank you, Headmistress," Draco said softly, he motioned for Theo and Blaise to go ahead to the scene as he stopped with the Headmistress to inquire further, "Were there any reports of any suspicious persons seen? Anything else of an unusual nature?"

She shook her head, "No, there was nothing else. Just the poor soul in pieces."

"If you don't mind me asking, how do you know it's a woman?"

"Her…parts are fully displayed," McGonagall paled, her hands trembling as she clasped them in front of her in a bid to stop the trembles. "I have heard that this is not the first one to be found? Is that correct, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco nodded and kept his face impassive, "Unfortunately. We've been on a manhunt for a while now and cannot seem to catch a break with this one. I'm hopeful that my team will bring this to an end soon."

She nodded, turned to leave, and stopped short to speak in a hushed but warm tone, "It was good to see you again, Mr. Malfoy, even with the unfortunate circumstances. You, Mr. Zabini, and Mr. Nott have truly done well. I know if…," she took a breath, steeling herself and holding back tears, "I know if Miss Granger were here, she would be proud of you as well."

He gave her a small smile when she turned away and walked back to the castle. Draco let out the deep breath he had been holding at her last comment.

Proud. She would be proud. He certainly hoped so…

Draco shook his head, causing some shorter hairs to fall loose from the short bun. He needed to stay focused, not daydream about her again…

Draco had tried not to Occlude in the same manner as during the war, using it only when he deemed it necessary, only when he was fighting back surging memories of her. Today would be necessary, he decided.

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes, a calming scene taking shape in his mind. A library, with high ceilings and seemingly endless shelves. An inordinate number of books lined the shelves: some with titles, others unnamed. As far back as he could go, there was a shelf with dark, locked tomes. There were no titles, no identifying marks on these books, nevertheless, Draco remembered what they hid. Everything regarding her…

Granger…Hermione…

He quickly separated the recent thoughts and feelings, creating a new book. Fastened with a heavy lock, it settled on the shelf with the others. Holding back yet another deep sigh, he brought himself back to reality, only taking a few minutes to calm his racing mind. He felt serene but detached. His mind cleared of what he considered distracting thoughts; right now, he needed to stay focused, not dally around with the what ifs. He turned and in a few short strides entered the stasis bubble to assist his team.

The poor woman was in almost the exact same state as the last victim. He noticed Theo and Blaise standing together near what appeared to be the torso, both men looking rather grim and murmuring to each other. As Draco approached, he noticed why. At first glance, it looked as though someone had simply cut lines all over the flesh. Upon closer inspection, the lines formed words and those words formed a message. Dread started to seep into Draco's chest as he started reading:

Potter's whore Make him watch

Will taste sweet like flower

Cut up nice, slow

Coming for you

He held back the bile that started creeping up his throat and closed his eyes, not daring to read the rest. From what he could see, the markings continued down the sides, reaching towards the back of the torso. Someone had taken their time to etch the skin with as many words as possible. Draco could only imagine how much worse the rest of the words were.

Turning away from the grotesque view, a slight movement of light in the tree line caught his attention. Sitting just outside the treeline, mere feet from the stasis bubble, a small red fox sat tall. Draco watched the creature with veiled curiosity. To his knowledge, the Dark Forest did not house any foxes since the Battle of Hogwarts. It was one of a few non-magical creatures that had been slaughtered by the mass of Dark Creatures that had trampled through. Draco could not bring himself to tear his eyes away from the sight, even as Blaise spoke quietly to him. The little creature tilted its head to the side, seeming to watch him intently, small ears flicking forward. Its amber eyes refusing to blink, catching him in a staring contest.

"Draco?"

He blinked and turned his head, "Yes?"

Blaise raised his brow, "I said, should we call Potter here? Considering this newest development?"

"No," he said quickly, turning to look back towards the trees. "No. I'll handle this one personally. I need to bring it to the Minister's attention now that threats are being made against Potter's wife."

Gone. The little creature was gone. Probably ran back into the forest, he surmised.

But how odd…

"Blaise?"

"Hmm?" The Italian came to stand next to him, looking towards the forest as well.

"Remind me: the forest doesn't have any kitsunes, does it?" Draco continued to scan the tree line as he asked.

"Not that I can recall. Those are typically over in Asia, but the odds of one coming this way…it's not completely impossible. Highly improbable though."

Draco hmm'd and nodded before shaking his head, "Was just curious. Thought I saw something…odd."

Draco appeared with a soft crack across the street from the Potters' cottage in Godric's Hollow. It was a calm neighbourhood, though Draco preferred the Manor's location. Less people around was always better in his opinion; plus, not many people wanted to live next to some former Death Eaters. But even he could admit that Godric's Hollow had its appeal: small neighbourhood, away from the city, best of all people left the Potters alone.

He flipped up the collar of his cloak and trudged across the street, stepping through the open gate. He was dreading this conversation. After going through the scene with his team, Draco had gone straight to the Minister's office. To say Kingsley was not happy would be an understatement. The dark man had remained composed but furious. Draco gave him a full verbal report on the case, making sure to stress how hard Theo and Blaise worked. Kingsley eventually agreed with Draco: Potter was to be taken off the case. And Draco was to be the one to deliver the news immediately. It took all the blond had not to grumble as he walked out of the office.

Draco would be lucky if Potter didn't hex him after this.

He knocked twice on the door before opening it and stepped over the threshold. He called out for Potter and suddenly there was the thudding of tiny feet headed his way.

"Uncle Dray!" A miniature version of Harry Potter, squealing, rammed into Draco's shins.

James Sirius Potter was the most baffling conundrum of a person that Draco had encountered. The four-year-old had been absolutely enamoured with Draco since he'd been born. No one knew why. When James began talking, Harry tried one day asking his son what he liked so much about his dear Uncle Dray (a name James had started calling Draco with no prompting from anyone).

The little tike stared up at his father with wide eyes and said simply, "What is there not to like, papa?"

So, Draco would have a small shadow accompany practically everywhere whenever he visited the Potters. He didn't see reason to complain though; James had somehow managed to wriggle himself a seat in Draco's heart–not that he'd ever openly admit it–and the blond couldn't help but feel love for the small child. It did not help that whenever Draco was exclusively focused on whichever subject James deemed as the day's lecture, there was (dear god, he grimaced) cooing from Pansy Potter and any other females that happened to be around. He couldn't believe that they actually cooed at him. How emasculating….

Today, James ecstatically spun a tale about how Uncle Ron had taken him to a quidditch match last week and how Uncle Ron had been telling stories about beating Uncle Dray's team all the time at school. Draco suppressed the eye roll as he lifted and carried James towards the kitchen where his parents were cleaning up after dinner. One perk about James's loving Draco–it made Ron Weasley extremely jealous and the results of Ron slyly trying to win James over were simply comical.

"…and then Uncle Ron said he was always keeping the ball away and that you and Papa would push each other trying to catch the smitch and-and that Papa was always the better flyer. But I told Uncle Ron that Aunt Ginnay is the better flyer. Uncle Ron looked grumpy…"

Draco smirked at the married couple who wore matching grins and chuckled while washing dishes and listening to James talk. He turned towards the toddler, who was now happily sitting in his lap and drumming on the kitchen island. James paid no mind to the adults and continued to recall the different plants he had found while on a walk around the Burrow last week.

"James," Draco said softly, truly hating to interrupt the infectious happiness radiating from the small person, "I have some important business to discuss with your parents. It's not…James-friendly. Could you do me a favour and make me another drawing, in your room?"

James's eyes lit up and he scrambled out of Draco's lap as fast as he could manage. Draco shook his head and the Potters laughed as they heard the tumbles and thumps while James ran up the stairs and into his room. Draco turned towards Potter and the air changed from happy to tense. They had known Draco didn't come bearing good news because his visit was a surprise, not his usual monthly dinner visit, and he was still in his Auror robes.

"Draco? What is it?" Pansy asked softly, reaching her hand out and grasping Harry's arm.

"There's been another one," he murmured looking between the two Potters.

"Already?!" Harry couldn't hold back his shock, "But–but the last one was barely two weeks ago!" He couldn't help shaking his head as he leaned on his hands on the kitchen island, "Details. Give me the details."

"Muggle-born witch…about mid to late twenties is the preliminary estimate. The usual: head, heart, and liver missing," he had to pause for a moment and steel himself to give them the next details, "She…she had a message etched…into her skin." Harry stood frozen, intently staring at Draco, waiting…Draco watched Harry from the corner of his vision as he turned towards Pansy. "It was about you."

Pansy paled and took several deep breaths before asking, "Is James in danger?"

"No," he said quickly, "At least, we don't believe so. We think it's meant to be baiting Potter into being rash. It was disturbing and I'm not going to share what it said. But due to this new development and the short timeframe between murders, Potter is being taken off this cASE BY ORDER OF THE MINISTER!"

Harry had immediately started protesting then promptly shut his mouth at the look his wife shot his way. "Look Potter, I don't disagree with him that you could be compromised on this. It's one thing for the threats to be directed at us but they're bringing your family into it. Think clearly."

Harry kept his head down, seething. Draco was sure that if he could, the man would've burned a hole through the kitchen island with just his glare. Pansy silently wrapped her arms around her husband and whispered in his ear. After a few minutes, she turned to Draco, her own trademark smirk appearing, "Alright Auror Malfoy, what do we do?"

"There will be a protective detail assigned to each of you. If you must leave the house for any reason, a team will be with you at all times. There's also been a team assigned to be at the Burrow as well, obviously as an extra precaution. The wards around your home and the Burrow will be increased tenfold. Theo has a few new wards that he's been working on and would like to add them with your permission. Nothing Dark or blood magic–they are specifically meant for protection against dark creatures."

Harry and Pansy nodded solemnly then turned to each other, whispering quietly. Harry gave his wife a nod and kiss before turning to look at Draco. He took a few deep breaths before asking: "This victim…it's not…Hermione, right?"

"...No," he said after a minute, "There's always a chance we could be wrong but the med team agrees: it's not Granger."

Harry visibly relaxed while Pansy let out a slow breath she had been holding. Draco observed the two as they processed everything.

Pansy and Potter ending up together had been quite a shock to everyone–that is, everyone except Ginny. Draco had learned Pansy had always had a crush on the annoying man, much to his surprise. Unrequited love while they attended Hogwarts was how she'd described it. Shortly after the war ended, Ginny and Harry had parted ways. It seemed odd that not long after, Harry was spotted visiting Pansy's boutique in Diagon Alley over a few weeks. Apparently, the two had been making a friendship unbeknownst to anyone else, except Ginny. Pansy had told Draco that Ginny had suspicions about her and Potter but both had been adamant that no infidelity had occurred. It seemed that Ginny too had started falling out of love with Potter and in love with another during that time. So, Ginny and Potter had decided to put an end to their relationship. With no ill will between the exes, Draco and Ginny had been named godparents to little James when he arrived to the world. Pansy excelled as a doting mother, giving James the love she had never felt from her parents.

Draco held out a steady hand to her. Pansy came around the kitchen island and was pulled into a hug. He held her tightly, tucking her midnight hair behind her ear and whispered, "I will never let anything happen to you. You know that. None of us will let anything happen to you."

She nodded, a few tears fell onto Draco's shoulder, and kept her terrified sobs held in "I know. I know you will."

"I know you have Potter, but I will do everything in my power to keep you and James safe. They will not touch you."

Pansy gave him a tight squeeze before letting go and turning towards Harry with a smile, "Guess you're finally going to be home more often then, huh?"

Potter smirked, "You'll grow tired of me."

"Haven't gotten tired of you yet, love."

A melancholy tune whispered its way through the library shelves. In a far back corner, a door to a hidden room was ajar, soft firelight peeking through the cracks. Inside, a few guitars and stringed instruments sat on stands, a small drum set tucked into a far corner, and a piano in the opposite corner facing the floor to ceiling window. Two walls were bookshelves filled with a mix of music books, loose sheet music, and records. Close to the fireplace was a loveseat and chaise, both a deep maroon colour with black edging.

At the piano, Draco sat squarely on the bench, his fingers smoothly sweeping across the keys. The second he had arrived back from the Potters', he made a beeline for the music room, sat at the piano bench, and played until his fingers hurt. Two hours had passed and the music just kept pouring out. Time seemed non-existent while he played through as many pieces as he could remember. Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, instrumental pieces he had randomly learned. One after another flowed as the hammers hit the strings, his hands dancing across the keys.

The music room was his sanctuary. While Voldemort and his rot had occupied the manor, he locked himself in the library. Everyone had assumed he spent endless hours poring through books. While that had been partly true, he would lock himself in the music room. His mother had created it specifically for him as a child and she was the only other person who could access it without permission. His father had scoffed when he had learned of the room's creation, saying there were more important things for the young Malfoy boy to be learning. Thankfully Narcissa had ignored him and set to tutoring Draco herself. They had spent so many hours together, not only learning magical music. Draco had been shocked when his mother had first introduced Muggle composers at the age of nine. He had always been told Muggles were inferior, nothing compared to them. Narcissa scoffed when he had asked.

"Your father thinks that. Have you ever heard those words pass my lips, my little one?"

Draco thought for a moment then slowly shook his head, "No, father has always said it."

Narcissa smirked, "As much as I love your father, my darling, there are some things that he will never concede nor understand. You're much too young to fully understand right now. But one day, you will see the poison that has seeped into our family. My hope is that it won't reach you. But that is a discussion for another day. Now, let's introduce you properly to Mozart."

The sonata came to an end. His hands did not stop. A seamless transition into the next piece. He felt a sinking feeling in his chest as the keys sang. He had given no thought to which piece he would play next but this one…it was the first song he had heard her play. Draco closed his eyes as Mad World rose to his ears. He allowed a single memory to slip out one of the locked books in his mind.

He remembered the sounds of birds, trees swaying in the breeze, the small creek nearby. The smell of fresh rain in the air. An A-frame house nestled in the trees. Vines and foliage effectively camouflaging. A soft sound trickled out of the open front door…

Draco slowly pushed the door open, careful not to allow a single creak escape the hinges or the floorboards. He glanced around the entryway and noted the music was coming from further down the hall than he had been before. Barely making a sound, he walked down the hall as the music grew louder but still soft. Gentle.

It was a small room across from what he assumed was the bedroom. There was no door, just an open frame. Inside was a mostly empty room, save for a few plush chairs, end tables and small bookcase in one corner. Along the wall facing the window, there she sat. Eyes closed, face turned up towards the sunshine that managed to peek through the trees and filter through her window. Her hands fluttering across the piano keys.

She had her wild curls up today. In a messy ponytail, high on her head but some rebellious curls framed her face. He could see that she didn't look as tired as before. The cut down the right side of her face was now a faint line, blending into her tanned skin. The jumper she wore still looked too large for her frame. He still thought she needed to eat more, still not understanding how she couldn't when she had an entire kitchen to herself…

Draco stood leaning back against the doorframe, content with watching and listening. She was still an enigma to him. When he would visit to report, rarely was she off-guard. Always watching him, watching everything around him, constantly looking out windows. She never gave away what she was waiting for, what she was anticipating. Every time he tried to question, she would change the subject or dismiss him. It was frustrating but enticing…

"It's rude to stare. Also, rude to sneak into someone's home."

She kept her eyes closed and continued to play but he noticed the smirk that appeared.

"The front door was open, I would hardly call it sneaking in," he crossed his arms but didn't move.

"Right," she finished out the last keys then turned towards him. He gazed into the amber pools that he found himself wanting to drown in lately. A new cut was on the left side of her neck, disappearing up into her hair. "You're not due to report for another week, something happen?"

"Hmm," he nodded, eyes scanning the rest of her face and arms, taking note of anything else that was new. It didn't help that she wore a jumper and jeans but he could see faint bruising on the tops of her hands. Interesting…

"Malfoy," she grumbled and crossed her arms.

Draco snapped his eyes back to those pools, "He was able to secure dragons. They'll be here in the next few days. I just learned about it today. If the information is correct, it should only be three."

She shook her head and rubbed the back of her neck, "Oh dear. I take it that's all you know so far? No locations or anything?"

Draco shook his head and pulled a folded parchment from inside his jacket pocket. He held it out for her to take, "I wrote down everything I heard, so you can pass it on."

She stood and walked a few steps forward to take the parchment. He immediately caught how her back was stiff, her left leg barely lifting to step. Her sleeve pulled up a minute amount and he could see the faint bruise extended further. Good god, what had happened to her? He had just seen her a few days ago and she had seemed perfectly fine.

He missed a few notes and his hands slammed on the keys, the loud discordant tones echoing. His breathing was turning erratic and his skin was crawling.

Breathe…breathe…breathe…

Draco felt the tears start pooling in his eyes but blinked furiously to hold them back. He couldn't get past that point in the memory. In any of them. Once he had started noticing the bruises, the cuts, the dark circles under her eyes, her tanned skin paling…it ate at him. An impending panic attack would force him out of the memories. Something had been happening to her and he still didn't know what it had been. She had kept so many secrets from everyone, from him. He stared out of the window, up at the stars. He wished he could just go back and stay…stay at the little house with her, forget everything else going on. Why, whenever something good came into his life, would it be ripped away? Draco rubbed his face and pushed his hair back, letting it fall from the short tail. A single thought echoed in his mind as he stared up at the waning gibbous moon.

Come back to me…please…come back to me…

Run…keep running…don't look back.

Her bare feet ached as she leapt over another fallen tree, feeling sticks and rocks cut across the bottoms. She ignored it and focused on breathing, lengthening her strides. Behind her, the sounds of whooping and figures crashing into trees and branches echoed. She could outrun. She had done it for years; she could still outrun them now.

Maybe it was a stupid decision to be bait and lure them further into the countryside but she needed to keep them away from people. Away from more potential victims. God, if she had to watch them rip apart another person…

She shook her head and kept the bile from crawling out of her throat. She could not directly get involved. That had been Remus's direction–observe and indirectly nudge them. She hated herself for not helping those poor people but she was always too late to help them. Every time she had found them, the attack was already in progress and the poor soul was on the edge of death. She made sure to stay, forcing herself to endure the grotesque show, cataloguing every detail to her memory. She would ensure nothing was touched when they finished and would somehow alert the Aurors.

Tonight though…tonight she was forcing them to follow her to the countryside, away from the small village. Tomorrow would be a full moon and she couldn't watch another person die, not when she could do something. She would keep them occupied, she had to…it was just for a few days, she could manage this. But she was getting tired. Exhaustion from years of playing cat and mouse with the wolves was taking its toll. Soon…soon she would need to go back. She couldn't keep the wolves at bay forever, the last two years were proof of that.

An image of silver eyes and white blond hair crossed her mind. Memory of a deep, caressing voice filled her head. Her breath hitched and she held the tears in.

A smirk. A kiss. Hands caressing her face.

"Forever, Granger?"

"Of course…Malfoy."