A/N: Fitting that this would be the 13th chapter, what with the unfortunate events I'm about to heap on my favorite characters. Good times will not be had in this chapter.

Tuesday, May 2nd, 2000, evening

"Incarcerous!"

"Morgana's minge!"

"Theo??"

"Granger??"

"What's going on in here--"

"Expelliarmus!"

"What the fuck?!"

"Vinea Ligatio!"

"Granger!!"

Hermione felt a bit more secure now that she was holding two wands (three wands once she spotted another on the desk and snatched it up) and the other occupants of the room were restrained. She had no idea where she was, but she'd arrived to find Theo (or a man wearing his face) seated behind a desk, and Malfoy (or another man in disguise) had walked into the room presumably upon hearing the initial commotion. Now 'Theo' was bound to the toppled over chair, cheek pressed to the ground, and 'Malfoy' was disarmed and stuck to the cieling with vines tightly wound around his limbs and torso.

She decided to deal with Theo first, turning a deaf ear towards the steady stream of swears coming from Malfoy hanging above them, and pointed all three wands at him threateningly. "How can I be sure it's really you? You could be using polyjuice for all I know!"

"I dunno... ask me a question only I would know how to answer?"

"Okay... Where did you think Princess Diana lived until you visited Kensington Palace last year?"

"That's your security question??"

"Answer it or I'll hex you!"

"Merlin... I told you this in confidence..." he muttered, before continuing at a normal volume. "I thought she lived in the ocean, and to be fair they called her the Princess of Whales!"

"All right, that checks out I suppose," she conceded, lowering the wands from attack position.

"Then untie me, woman!"

"Oh, right, sorry..."

Hermione waved her own wand and the golden ropes she'd conjured to bind her would-be attacker vanished.

"What about me??" Malfoy shouted, struggling fiercely at his holds as he watched Theo get set free.

"Right... er... Where did Harry find you crying in sixth year?"

"Are you fucking serious right now? Why would I be an imposter if Theo isn't?"

"Just answer the question!"

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Malfoy answered through gritted teeth.

"Mate, that's was a girl's bathroom," Theo's barely concealed humor only seemed to further enrage Malfoy.

"Did Potter also mention that he nearly killed me that day or just the bit that was embarrassing for me?"

"He confessed the whole sordid story, and I didn't speak to him for a week after that," Hermione responded primly, using her wand to direct the vines to gently lower Malfoy back to the ground before they retracted into nothingness. "I told him not to mess about with unknown spells."

"Potter never listens to good sense," Malfoy grumbled as he rubbed his wrists to restore circulation.

"Where are we?" Taking a more thorough look at her surroundings, Hermione noted that she'd arrived in a handsomely decorated (if slightly gothic, dark, and depressing) study. The shelves lining the walls were packed with curious artifacts and mysterious devices, and she suspected that the innumerable built-in drawers held more of the same.

"Nott Hall, my ancestral family home," Theo answered with a welcoming bow.

"Did you send me this portkey then?"

"What?" Theo blinked in confusion as Hermione handed over the button that had transported her so abruptly. He examined it with a beady eye and prodded it a few times with his wand, but didn't seem able to glean any useful information. "How did you get here?"

"I just told you, that thing was a portkey. It brought me here."

"No I mean, how did you get here? This estate has generations of blood wards cast on it and non-relatives aren't supposed to be able to enter without permission from the head of the estate."

Malfoy nodded in agreement and snatched the button out of Theo's hands to scrutinize it himself. "It's the same for any of the old pureblood estates. Strongest wards in England."

"Well, aren't you head of the estate?" Hermione pointed at Theo. "So, if you created the portkey would that count as permission?"

"Yes, but I didn't make this portkey."

"Are you sure?" She knew as soon as she said it that it was a ridiculous question, but she was still reeling from the adrenaline of believing she'd been spirited away by an enemy.

"Of course I'm sure! I think I'd remember making a portkey. Anyway, I would've had to apply for a permit, and do you really think they'd approve that for a former Death Eater?"

Hermione winced at the bitterness in Theo's voice. "Sorry..."

"It's fine," he brusquely cut off her apology. Hermione wasn't used to a moody Theo (that was usually Malfoy's territory), but he quickly snapped out of it and sent her a boyish, hopeful look. "Is this your way of telling me you're speaking to me again? Did you make the portkey yourself?"

"Don't be absurd," she rolled her eyes. "Clearly I was surprised to be deposited in your house. And no, I'm still not speaking to you."

"You're speaking to me now," he grinned wolfishly.

"Out of necessity. I haven't forgiven you for telling Malfoy about my private business."

Malfoy was still busy investigating the portkey, and though he grunted slightly on hearing his name, he didn't look up.

"How do you know it was me?"

"I don't, but it could only have been you or Pansy so it's a 50-50 guess. Not exactly difficult odds. Was it you?"

Theo groaned and admitted it. "All right, yes, I'm the leak, but I didn't mean to tell him. He forced it out of me."

"Held you at wandpoint, did he?" Hermione lifted her brow.

"Well, no... but you know how he is... he can be very persuasive."

"See if I ever share a secret with you again, Theodore Nott!"

"I haven't told anyone about your other secrets!"

"Oh, gold star!" Hermione scoffed.

"This was different! We're just worried about you, and..."

"So you're on his side then?"

"No! We're both on your side! Please calm down..."

Apparently finished with the button, Malfoy chose this moment to chime in, and with all the effectiveness of water poured on an oil fire he ensured that Hermione would not be calming down. "You're being naïve if you don't think there's something off about Marc."

"I'm not stupid!"

"He didn't say you were!" Theo attempted to walk back Malfoy's comment when he saw that all he seemed inclined to do was cross his arms stubbornly.

"It was implied!"

"If I was implying anything it was that you're being stupid not that you are stupid!" Malfoy sneered.

"Very nice distinction!" Hermione couldn't believe his audacity. Apparently, Theo couldn't believe it either. She was pretty sure she heard him whisper 'why are you like this?' in Malfoy's direction.

"Figures you wouldn't appreciate the difference since you also can't seem to understand the difference between a guy who's genuinely interested and one who just wants to fuck!"

"You are so out of line, Malfoy!!"

"Look..." Theo interrupted their squabbling with his voice softened to a tone appropriate for approaching a spooked wild animal. "I don't want to fight with you about this. I don't even think Draco means to fight with you about this. He just has a... caustic personality." Theo gave a nervous chuckle at Malfoy's pointed glare, but forged ahead. "If we're wrong about Marc, it will honestly make me so happy."

"You are wrong," Hermione couldn't resist insisting. "You don't know him."

"So you've said," Theo sounded like it strained him to stay polite. "Give us a chance. Can we get to know him? Can you please just bring him around the group so we can meet him? It will set all of our minds at ease."

"That's... reasonable."

"I'm a reasonable guy," Theo winked.

"And you'll be nice to him if he does come around?" She pinned them both with a hard stare.

"On my honor," Theo put a hand to his heart in a gesture of earnestness and stomped on Malfoy's foot to prompt him into agreement as well.

"Ouch, you're both so violent today! Yes, fine, I... won't instigate anything."

Hermione didn't miss that he hadn't exactly promised to be nice as Theo had, but she supposed that it would have to be good enough. She sighed in exagerrated annoyance.

"Anyway, what's more important right now is that we figure out who sent me the portkey. It came in this unmarked envelope and the St. Mungo's staff was no help at all..."

"You were at St. Mungo's?!" Theo screeched.

"Yeah..." her eyes immediately dropped to the floor from the weight of her guilt.

"Granger, you promised me you wouldn't go there!"

"I... forgot," she knew how important it had been to Theo, and although she didn't fully believe that his fears were justified, she still felt the need to defend herself. "Fleur Weasley went into labor and I wanted to be there to meet the baby..."

Theo looked exasperated. "So meet the baby when it leaves the hospital. The baby won't know the difference. I can't believe you risked your life for that! If you'd Seen the violent dismemberment that I did... actually I have half a mind to make you watch... who do I know that has a Pensieve?" He muttered names to himself as he paced back and forth in agitation.

"Theo, it's okay. I went to St. Mungo's and I'm fine. See? Not a scratch on me." She held out her arms and turned them every which way to showcase her wholeness.

"You were kidnapped via mysterious portkey," Malfoy added unhelpfully. Hermione threw him a nasty look. She was meaning to set Theo's mind at ease, not give him more reasons to fuss.

"Kidnapped is a bit of a strong word," she wrinkled her nose. "And if Theo's supposedly prophetic dreams are so flexible that I could be kidnapped rather than dismembered then they're hardly reliable. More than that, why would Dolohov and Greyback go to all that trouble just to send me to your house?"

"That's true... why would anyone send you a portkey to me actually?" Theo stopped pacing. That was a positive sign.

"Exactly. I can hardly believe that someone that means me harm would send me here. You're not dangerous."

"I could be dangerous," Theo pouted.

"Yes, yes, you're a very bad boy," she patted him just above the elbow. A pat on the head would've been preferable, but she couldn't reach. He was quite tall.

"I don't understand why my visions aren't working like they used to..."

"Well if you keep having visions of my demise, then please excuse my relief that they aren't coming true. Maybe it's because you're stressed?" Or maybe it was because Divination as an entire field was a crock--but Hermione left this conjecture unsaid.

"Work has been pretty stressful lately. I haven't made any progress on the broken time turner and Grimstone doesn't seem impressed. I'm worried that he'll--"

"Master Nott!" Theo's house-elf (Hermione presumed as she'd never known he existed and sent Theo a scathing look for the discovery) had burst into the room in a nervous dither, yanking on his ears anxiously.

"What's wrong, Olaf?"

"There is aurors at the gate!"

Hermione, Malfoy, and Theo looked at each other in mutual horror, understanding simultaneously what the aurors must believe happened. Theo was only just off of probation and Malfoy's wouldn't be up for another six weeks.

"I'll go out and explain," Hermione offered. Theo and Malfoy would be protected inside the house. The wards seemingly prevented even aurors from entering uninvited.

"Olaf will show Miss the way!"

"Thank you, Olaf. Maybe on our walk out you can tell me how much your salary is?"

She heard Theo groan but paid him no mind as she grasped Olaf's hand and followed him towards the front door.

Saturday, May 6th, 2000

To no one's surprise except Granger's, the aurors had insisted on interrogating Draco and Theo under veritaserum before they were satisfied that Granger hadn't been kidnapped. As a former Death Eater, he expected this level of suspicion, but he could tell that it bothered Granger. She clearly felt that her word should have been strong enough to clear them of any wrongdoing, and was quite impressively indignant when that was proven not to be the case. (She had a lot to be indignant about once she realized that the aurors had found her by activating her Trace. Apparently, she'd been led to believe that her safeword was a one-way privilege.)

Draco only minded that they were wasting valuable time. One of the aurors had let it slip that there had been a sighting of Dolohov near St. Mungo's that day, so Theo's vision may not have been entirely incorrect. There might well have been a plot against Granger that was thwarted by her sudden portkey escape.

It was Draco's private opinion that whoever sent the anonymous tips to the aurors about Pansy's party and the explosives in Granger's apartment was also behind the portkey, but he was stumped about how the hell this person would've been able to create it in the first place. Aside from the fact that it was supposedly impossible to break through the Nott family blood wards, Draco also put together that this was somehow an officially registered portkey based on the questions they asked during his interrogation ('Have you used the imperius curse, bribed, extorted, or otherwise convinced a ministry employee in the Department of Magical Transportation to assist you in the creation of a portkey?').

It was driving Theo mad, and he'd constructed a wall of evidence in his study to try and figure out exactly what was going on with this anonymous character. Another waste of time, Draco felt. Dolohov and Greyback were the known threats and their whereabouts were enough of a mystery to be getting on with. Not that he was planning to involve himself in this mess any further. He wasn't a Gryffindor hero; this was a job for professionals (incompetent though they seemed).

Pushing these thoughts from his mind, Draco steeled himself for a trial even more daunting than auror interrogation: meeting Granger's sketchy boyfriend.

They'd all agreed to meet up for dinner at Pansy's at seven. It was now seven thirty-five, and Draco supposed he really couldn't delay much longer without incurring Pansy's wrath and provoking her into giving him early start times for events again. He arranged his face into what was hopefully a passable approximation of aloof politeness and stepped through the floo.

"--please don't tell him. I don't want to hear his 'I told you so'..." This was Granger's voice coming from the direction of the dining room.

"He's going to find out. He'll be here any minute." And that was Pansy. Obviously, they were talking about him.

"Don't tell me what?" Draco drawled as he stepped into the room. It was a short walk from the floo parlor. Granger had clearly been crying and was seated at one end of the table with Pansy and Theo standing on either side of her. "Don't tell me what?" he repeated.

"Marc broke up with her," Theo offered with a sigh when it became clear that Granger wouldn't give the information herself.

"I told you so," Draco snapped, prompting Pansy to walk over and smack him upside the head.

"Could you stop being an enormous git for one second?" She'd been wearing a ring; that had really hurt!

"When did this happen then?" He leaned away from Pansy seeing that she'd raised her arm threateningly when he'd opened his mouth again.

"Just before coming here. Apparently, he met her at her apartment and dumped her there."

"Theo, shut up. Granger said she doesn't want Draco to know!" Now Pansy's ring hand was aimed at Theo.

"Sorry!" he scrambled out of smacking range.

"Whatever, it's fine. I don't care anymore," Granger slumped in her seat defeatedly. "But look, Malfoy, it's not what you're thinking. He just said he's not sure if he's ready for a serious relationship right now."

"Oh really?" Granger must have missed his obvious sarcasm in her distress because she just nodded and carried on.

"Yeah, he's really busy at work and his grandma recently passed away, so he thinks he just needs to take some time to himself. I can understand that, I'm just disappointed is all."

"Disappointed," Draco repeated, gobsmacked at how completely this Marc arsehole had managed to indoctinate such an intelligent person. And he'd know a thing of two about indoctrination, having been a youth member of a terrorist group that capitalized on generations of blood-purist brainwashing.

"Well, we're still going to see each other. Just as friends though. Maybe he'll be ready someday soon."

This was bordering on surreal. Granger had dismantled a state-run propaganda machine and couldn't see through such obvious lines? Draco was about to say as much aloud before he caught the warning glint of Pansy's (probably goblin-wrought steel) ring and thought better of it.

"Theo, why don't we leave Pansy to comfort Granger? I'm sure she'd appreciate the privacy."

Theo raised his eyebrows in surprise, but didn't object.

"And Granger," Draco paused over the threshold between the dining room and floor parlor. He could feel Theo's hand reach out to pinch his arm, but ignored it. "I'm sure it'll all work out as it should."

He could hear Pansy and Theo both let out a sigh of relief that for once he hadn't said something nasty, which might have offended him if he hadn't given them so much reason to doubt him lately. He'd really made a mess of things with Granger. He couldn't understand how she inspired such visceral reactions from him. He fancied himself as being quite cool and collected these days, but his behavior lately felt like a regression. He'd try to be more mindful of what he said to her in the future. It was the least he could do.

Actually, there was one more thing that he could do for her today, but for that he'd need another person's help.

"Come on, Theo."

"Where are we going?"

"12 Grimmauld Place."

Marc was feeling quite pleased with himself. He'd managed to get rid of Hermione before 7 o'clock leaving him plenty of time to go out hunting for someone fresh tonight. Hermione was gorgeous so he'd been sad to cut her loose, but she'd been getting a little too needy lately, so it couldn't be helped. He'd thought he'd convinced her that he was too shy to meet her friends, but she'd been adamant that he do so anyway this weekend, and that just couldn't happen. He couldn't count on her friends being as gullible as she clearly was. Honestly, he'd thought she'd be more of a challenge being a war hero and all.

He straightened his tie in the mirror and checked his reflection one last time for imperfections. Hair? Roguishly touseled. Robes? Finely tailored. Expression? Openly vulnerable, which was like catnip for women. It had worked so well on Hermione that he planned on trying the 'my grand-mère just died' story again tonight. There was no way he wouldn't get lucky. Although honestly even if he struck out, he knew he could have Hermione back in the palm of his hand with a single text. He'd left the door wide open for him to waltz back into her life if he ever got the itch.

Just as he was about to head through his floo there was a knock at the door, which was odd. He wasn't expecting any visitors. Maybe it was Mrs. Crabtree looking for her damn lost cat again.

"Hello? What--"

No sooner had he opened the door, than he found himself being shoved back, door flung open wide and admitting two men he'd never seen before into his home. On second glance, he did recognize one of the men. Draco Malfoy. He was infamous, even in France.

"What are you doing 'ere?" Marc cringed to hear his fear strengthening his accent. He felt that his English had become quite fluent, but charged emotional states always made proper pronunciation more challenging.

"I'm not surprised you didn't know that we're friends of Hermione Granger's." Malfoy's smile was unnerving and Marc found himself taking several steps further back. It did no good, Malfoy and the other man followed step-for-step.

"'Ermione sent you?"

"Not exactly," Malfoy gave a casual shrug that somehow seemed as threatening as if he'd pulled a wand. Marc flinched. "But we are here on her behalf."

Malfoy didn't elaborate on the purpose of their visit but he did roll up his shirt sleeves so that the Dark Mark on his forearm was visible. The other man did the same. They were both Death Eaters?! Hermione was friends with two Death Eaters?? No, there had to be some mistake.

"I-I...I will call ze authorithies!" Marc stuttered, again attempting to put distance between them but finding a wall at his back preventing him from doing so.

"Mate, the authorities are already here," the Death Eater that Marc didn't recognize laughed and pointed a thumb over his own shoulder. The two Death Eaters parted so that Marc could see that a third man had entered his apartment, closing the door behind him. There wasn't a wizard alive who wouldn't know who this was. Harry Potter was here.

"Hello. Marc, is it?" Harry Potter was speaking to him. Harry Potter had asked him a question, but Marc couldn't for the life of him understand what it was. Harry Potter was so calm it was terrifying. "I'll need to see your phone."

"M-my phone?"

"Yes, give it to me now."

Marc fumbled around for a moment in his robe's inner pocket before he found his cellphone and quickly handed it over.

Harry Potter pressed several buttons, seemingly looking for something before he made a noise of satisfaction and turned the phone around to face Marc.

"This is Hermione Granger's phone number."

"Y-yes?"

Harry Potter hit the delete button and it was gone. Then he tossed the phone to the floor.

"You're never to talk to her or even be in the same room with her again. Do you understand?"

Marc was frozen.

"Nod if you understand," Malfoy snarled. Marc nodded as quickly as he could.

"I said no violence, Malfoy," Harry Potter held Malfoy back from advancing further.

"How come I get punched in the face for making Hermione cry by accident and this absolute hippogriff taint gets 'no violence'?" the second Death Eater whined. Marc was horrified. Was he about to get punched in the face by Harry Potter?

"Because Hermione was really mad at me for doing that and I don't want to upset her again," Harry Potter explained.

"Come on," Death Eater number two wheedled. "She's never going to find out we were here."

Sensing that the destruction of his face was imminent, Marc found the courage to speak again. "I-I will tell 'ermione! If you 'urt me, I will tell!"

Harry Potter frowned. "I thought we made it clear that you were not to speak to Hermione ever again."

Marc gave a hysterical laugh. It was surely unwise to goad them further, but his mouth ran away with him. "And if she wants to speak to me, euh? What will I do? What if she 'opes to crawl back into my bed? I was her first, you know? Enfin, j'dis ça, j'dis rien..."

Black rage clouded over Malfoy's face, transforming it into the face of a demon. He lunged, but again Harry Potter held him back.

"Malfoy, you're still on probation!"

"Oh là! Zis is all powder in ze eyes!" Marc's confidence soared upon learning that not only would Hermione not be pleased if he was harmed but that they would also be in legal trouble. Now that it was clear he was untouchable, he straightened himself and stepped away from the wall he'd been trying to disappear into. "It 'as been wonderful to meet you 'arry Potter, but I afraid I am late to begin my evening. Per'aps I will be seeing Miss Granger tonight after all. You 'ave reminded me how much fun she can be. Bon soir!"

Marc turned his back to them to walk back to his floo, and so didn't see the moment that Harry Potter let go of Malfoy. He felt it though. In a flurry of movement Malfoy had grabbed the neck of Marc's robes, thrown him up against the wall, and let his fist fly against Marc's face, right on the bridge of his nose.

Meanwhile, Death Eater number two blasted Marc's phone, laying innocently on the ground, into a million pieces with a well placed reducto curse for good measure, even though it no longer contained Hermione's phone number.

"One is enough, Malfoy. Let's go now," Harry Potter restrained Malfoy's arm with both hands, which was good because he'd brought it back in motion as though he'd quite like to strike again. Once released, Marc whimpered and slid down the wall to huddle on the floor cradling his broken face. Blood was everywhere and he was crying, though he was sure that was just a natural reaction to the pain.

Harry Potter and the Death Eaters were retreating, thank god. What a disaster. "Putain, elle n'en valait pas la peine," he mumbled to himself, although apparently not quietly enough.

Mafloy turned and slashed his wand with great vindictiveness before storming out the door ahead of the others. Marc ran his hands in a panic along his body but could feel no new injuries aside from his face. Had whatever hex he'd tried to use not worked?

Death Eater number two quickly followed Malfoy, but Harry Potter hung back a moment longer. Crouching down to be eye level with Marc, Harry Potter spoke one final warning: "If you try to get Malfoy in trouble for this, I'll be his alibi. No one will ever believe you over the Chosen One."

Harry Potter then left as quietly as he'd arrived.

"What'd you hex him with?"

"Something inspired by Hermione. It's a version of the caterwauling charm, keyed to activate whenever he touches a woman."

"Devious. How long will it last?"

"No idea."

A/N: Well that's one mystery solved! I was surprised by all the theories that Marc was a Death Eater in disguise or something, but I guess that's a sign that I made him easy enough to hate, which was my goal. As Harry reminded Draco in Chapter 3, the world isn't split between good people and Death Eaters! (And that line is recycled wisdom from Sirius in the books originally) Anyway, I hope it was satisfying to see Marc get his comeuppance in this chapter.

Side note: I actually gave away the fact that Marc was just a garden variety douche (because I thought it was obvious) on one of my Tumblr author commentary posts before I started getting reviews speculating that he might be a more serious villain... If you prefer to be completely in the dark about how I'm thinking about things continue to not read my Tumblr I guess, but also just a reminder to anyone who uses Tumblr that I'm actively posting more (completely unnecesssary) info over there. I don't spoil my own twists, but there might be things on there that interest you. Thanks for the support on any platform! Your likes, kudos, bookmarks, subscriptions, and reviews fuel me!