CW: Mentioned/implied hypothetical sexual assault (non-graphic, very minor)

As the coven house was still under renovations and not to be shown to outsiders until the party, Hermione sent an owl to Tracey, who was all too pleased to invite Hermione and Blaise to her house over the weekend.

"I've never gotten to entertain!" she said excitedly, greeting them upon their arrival. "My mom's helping – we've put tea out in the garden – Pansy and Draco are still on their way—"

"You invited Malfoy?" Blaise wrinkled his nose.

"Hermione said she needed Slytherin help," Tracey defended. "Malfoy may be a bit of a knob, but he's got Slytherin connections galore—"

She led them through her house to the back door, where a folding table and chairs had been set up in the yard underneath a large, shady tree. Millie, Daphne, and another girl Hermione didn't recognize were already there.

"Hermione!" Daphne said, her eyes lighting up as she saw her. "Hermione, Blaise, may I introduce my younger sister, Astoria Greengrass? Astoria, this is Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini. They're members of the coven mum is trying to contract."

Astoria quickly got to her feet and swept Hermione a flawless curtsy. "Pleased to meet you."

Hermione curtsied back. "Good to meet you, Astoria," she said, taking a seat.

"Astoria will be starting Hogwarts this year," Daphne said. "I thought it'd be good to help her get to know a few people before she arrives."

"She might not get sorted into Slytherin, you know," Blaise commented.

Daphne and Astoria both dissolved into giggles at this, and Blaise looked annoyed.

"Well, fine then," he huffed, taking the seat at Hermione's left. "What do I know?"

"Nothing, apparently," Millie said, smirking, and Blaise rolled his eyes.

Draco and Pansy arrived shortly thereafter, accompanied by Tracey. Draco shot Blaise a dark look at his seat, and after Tracey forcibly claimed the seat at Hermione's right, Draco settled for the one next to Blaise, with Pansy sitting primly at his side next to Astoria.

"Tracey said there's plotting to be done," Draco said. He grinned. "What plots are we plotting today, my friends?"

Hermione glanced around the table, quickly evaluating everyone on how much she trusted them.

"As you're aware," she said, nodding to Draco, "I'm trying to diversify my investments. I've decided I want to get into news media. In order to do that, I need to figure out how to 'convince' the Broadmoor family to sell me their share of the Daily Prophet."

"You can't just offer them gold?" Daphne said, surprised. "Usually, any business owner without generational wealth will take any offer if its good enough."

"Because 'Granger' holds so much generational wealth," Millie snorted, and Daphne looked abashed.

"The gold isn't the problem," Hermione clarified. "But I have it from a reputable source that the Broadmoors won't sell easily, regardless of the offer."

"Really?" Draco said. He looked interested. "Exactly what situation are we looking at?"

Blaise pulled out his diagram from his pocket and smoothed it out. "This is what we're looking at…"

He explained the rivalry between the Morgans and the Broadmoors, detailing how Hermione had already bought out the majority of the Ollerton Brothers' shares without mentioning the price she'd paid for them. The others listened in, asking questions, which Blaise answered. Hermione watched Astoria, who was watching all this happen with wide eyes. It was probably the first time she'd ever been included in a plotting session; Hermione remembered her own first one had been quite a thrill.

"So the end goal is Hermione obtaining their shares?" Pansy asked at the end, clarifying. "It doesn't matter how?"

"We'd like to avoid anything truly unfortunate happening to the Broadmoors," Blaise said. He shook his head sadly. "Inheritance law is so time-consuming and costly."

Pansy shrugged, blasé. "Fair enough."

"Kevin and Karl retired from the Falcons decades ago," Draco said. "Are they still involved at all with Quidditch?"

"They must be somehow," Millie pointed out. "Otherwise, they'd sell if the right offer came along."

"Either that, or it's a male pride thing," Pansy said dryly, and Draco and Blaise both gave her an offended, pointed look, which she entirely ignored. "We'll have to figure out their motivation for being part of the Prophet in the first place."

"They have sons," Daphne volunteered. "Each of them has one. Klaus and Kaspar."

Hermione made a silent promise to herself to not give all her children names beginning with the same initial.

"They're older though, aren't they?" Millie said, wrinkling her nose. "Like, they were in school around the time Snape was, weren't they?"

"They're a little younger, but not by much," Daphne said. "No idea who their mothers are. The Broadmoor brothers are very quiet."

"Do we think this is a money laundering thing, then? They hide illicit income with their ownership of the paper?" Hermione asked. "Or is this a family rivalry with the Morgans?"

Pansy and Daphne exchanged a look.

"Theo might know," Pansy said finally. She glanced at Hermione. "His father might have been friends with the older two at one time."

Hermione took her meaning immediately, and Tracey's face darkened, though she ran to the Floo anyway.

Theo returned with Tracey a short while later, looking at their party with idle interest.

"A plotting party? And I'm only invited as a second-string?" he said, taking an injured air as he sat down and fixed himself a cup of tea. "I'm hurt."

"Hermione specified 'no killing' in proposed solutions," Tracey shot back.

Theo snorted. "Oh, now she decides that killing's bad."

Hermione ignored the jab.

"Theo, do you know anything about the Broadmoor family?" she asked.

Theo's eyes narrowed, and he scanned over those assembled with a keen eye.

"They own part of the Daily Prophet," he said. "And they know my dad – the older ones."

"We know they own part of the Daily Prophet," Pansy told Theo. "We're trying to figure out what leverage we need to get them to sell their share."

"Well, you won't find it," Theo said bluntly, taking a sip of his tea. "Karl and Kevin were told to invest in the paper directly by the Dark Lord. It was part of his plan to take over the Ministry."

"They were Death Eaters?" Astoria gasped. Her eyes flew to her sister. "But they're not in Azkaban!"

Daphne bit her lip. "No, Astoria. They're not."

Astoria's eyes widened, and she quieted down, her lower lip trembling. Hermione was impressed by her ability to quickly divine what the situation was; she'd been far more naïve herself at Astoria's age.

"They won't let go of it even though he's gone?" Draco was asking Theo.

"No," Theo said curtly. "If it were just the younger ones, Klaus and Kaspar, you might have a shot. But not with Karl and Kevin – they knew the Dark Lord in school."

The others gasped, but Hermione was twirling her hair thoughtfully.

"In school?" she said. "When did they graduate?"

"Late 40s?" Theo guessed. "They were second-string Tornadoes before they were traded to the Falcons."

Draco groaned.

"If they faced down the Dark Lord, we're never going to manage to intimidate them into selling," he said.

"They didn't 'face him down', they followed him," Theo said, annoyed.

"Yeah, but same difference, isn't it? If they learned directly from the Dark Lord—"

"Actually, Theo, that information helps a lot," Hermione said, cutting Draco off. "I have an idea in mind."

Pansy snorted. "Want to share with the class, Granger?"

"Not particularly," Hermione said, tossing her head.

Theo laughed darkly.

"Pansy, believe me, you don't want to be privy to Granger's secrets," he said, shaking his head. "They're darker than you can imagine."

"I'm not some shirking violet," Pansy objected, scowling. "I'm not scared."

"That's your problem," Theo shot back. "You should be."

Conversation moved on from the Broadmoors and Hermione to what everyone else had been doing so far with their summers (very little, as it turned out, given it'd only been a week). When it was her turn, Daphne moved discussion smoothly around to her planning of the Anti-Werewolf Gala, insisting that most of them needed to make sure their parents attended.

"We're struggling to get donations," Daphne admitted. "So the few pieces we do have, we need to make sure they go for high prices."

Draco stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Have we asked the hedgewitches for any?" he asked. "They're the ones who come face-to-face with the werewolves the most often. They'd be able to make good art, I bet."

"Have we asked—?" Daphne looked horrified. "No, Draco, we have not. Not unless Hermione has."

Hermione blinked. "I hadn't even considered that. It's not a bad idea."

"If you want to try, Hermione, go for it," Daphne said dubiously. "Just know the risks."

"Risks? What risks?" Draco wanted to know, and Daphne's mouth fell open.

"What risks—? Have you lost your mind?" she demanded. "They can steal your magic, Draco!"

"Oh," Draco said, faltering. "Um. Right. Forgot."

His lie tripped off his tongue, falling woodenly, and Astoria looked at him curiously.

"Do they not steal magic?" she asked, wide-eyed, and Draco winced.

"No," he admitted, glancing at Daphne warily before looking back at her younger sister. "But it's still probably not safe for you to go among them."

"They don't… are you insane?" Daphne hissed. "Draco! There are known instances of—"

"There aren't, really," Draco drawled, tracing a pattern with his finger on the table. "Name one person you know who's been drained."

"During the Dark Lord's Reign of Terror—"

"Sounds like the Dark Lord would have been draining people then," Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "Not a bunch of weak woods witches."

Daphne shook her head.

"You're mad," she said. "Mad. Of all people, Draco, I thought you—"

"Draco's been visiting them," Blaise cut in, examining his fingernails with a bored air. "That's why he's changed his mind."

Immediately all eyes were on Draco, who Draco winced.

"Yeah, I have," he admitted. "I've been helping Hermione with the silver warding of the tenancies. And Hermione's right – they're really not powerful—"

"Of course they're not powerful, if they haven't stolen magic yet!"

"—but they're practicing learning to work together." Draco wet his lips, uncomfortable. "They do ritual magic together sometimes. Like the warding. But most of them aren't anywhere close to ever being able to use a wand."

"Of course not, because they haven't stolen—"

"They can't steal magic," Draco snapped, patience gone. "Daphne, I know you grew up hearing the same scary stories I did, but believe me – if they could drain people, they would have. They'd have done it ages ago. They have no reason not to, the way we treat them, really."

Daphne stared at him, astonished, and Draco sighed.

"Look. I'll ask them next time I go, okay?" he said. "There's a full moon in three weeks."

"That's only a week before the gala," Daphne said instinctively. "Anyone would need—"

"Fine, then I'll go hit them up tomorrow, okay?" Draco snapped. "I'll go buy them all drinks at The Yard until they're blitzed, get them talking about werewolves, and then propose an art contest to see who can do the best depiction of a werewolf."

Daphne hesitated.

"It's supposed to be of the agony of the werewolf," she said. "Not—not about how monstrous they are—"

"Go talk to Lupin for that," Draco shot back coolly. "I'll get you werewolf art. The audience can draw whatever meaning from it they please."

Daphne and Draco stared each other down, both angry, while Astoria turned to Theo, wide-eyed.

"What if they steal your magic?" she asked. "Do you just… stop, then? Like you're an empty shell?"

"No, you'd be like a muggle," Theo clarified for the younger girl. "An empty shell doesn't happen unless you're Kissed by a dementor."

"There are no more dementors anymore, though," Astoria said, blinking. "Daddy said they all got burned up."

Theo's eyes slid to Hermione's. "Right. I forgot."

"Oh," Hermione said. "On that note, Theo – I had a question for you—"

"About the dementors?" Theo drawled, arching an eyebrow.

"No, about empty shells," she said. "If somebody wanted to get an empty body – not one that's dead, just a soulless one—"

"Hermione!" Blaise exclaimed, protesting. Hermione went on, ignoring him.

"—where would they get one? Or how would they make one?" She wet her lips. "You have the most experience with the Dark Arts of all of us, I think."

Theo scoffed. "Do I, though?"

"Hermione, no," Blaise pleaded. "This is not the way—"

"I'm not going to do it, you imbecile," Hermione hissed at him. "I'm trying to figure out what the Dark Lord would do, if he had a sudden helper return to him."

Blaise paused. "…oh."

Theo looked thoughtful.

"There are really Dark rituals for that sort of thing," he said. "Like, really Dark." He looked at Hermione. "I'm presuming we think the Dark Lord wouldn't be willing to wait seventeen years to grow up?"

"I highly doubt it," Hermione said. "Why?"

"The easiest way is to possess a fetus," Theo said, shrugging. "Before the quickening. Before it has a soul. But then you've got to be born and grow up, still."

"Possess a fetus?" Hermione felt sickened. "I don't want to know how that's even possible."

"Dark Magic." Theo shrugged. "Obviously."

"Given Peter Pettigrew can't get pregnant, I daresay we're alright there," Blaise quipped.

Pansy rolled her eyes.

"Oh, because he's unable to get a witch pregnant?" she snarked.

"No one would sleep with him," Blaise objected. "He's a disgusting little rat fellow—"

"Not willingly, you idiot," Pansy snapped. "If he's a Death Eater, odds are he learned the Imperius Curse. What do you think he would do?"

The group fell silence, uneasy and unsettled. No one wanted to look at each other.

There was a loud sound as Tracey scraped her chair back.

"More tea?" she said brightly, her smile strained.

Trying to disperse social awkwardness with tea was about as British as you could get, Hermione thought, watching as Tracey hurried back into the house. She only hoped that it would work.