AN: Thanks so much for your continued support! I'm glad you enjoyed the special double chapter week. Now, back to our regular schedule. Extra special thanks to my alpha reader: LaDeeDaa and beta reader: astrangefan

The Boathouse

Padma's brows furrowed as she concentrated, her wand steady as it ran the particular spell to test Hermione's magical strength.

Hermione bit her lip to keep from asking her to hurry up and tell her how much longer she'd have to wait until she was considered one-hundred percent.

Padma took a breath and wordlessly picked up her quill and made a note on the chart next to them.

"Pads…" Hermione whined.

"Patience," Padma scolded.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just tell me. Is it getting better? I had an easier time with Summoning after lunch."

"Your magic is ninety percent restored. Your iron levels are coming up, but you are still considered anaemic. I want you to take another blood replenishing potion and two iron tablets for good measure."

Hermione slouched, disappointed. It really was too much to expect a full recovery. She'd only just done the ritual two days ago, but she was getting impatient. She wanted to check out the boathouse in the morning and she needed her magic to be back to normal. Besides, the quicker she recovered, the quicker she could cure Draco - before he tried to slip through her fingers with some moronic self-sacrificing theatrics again.

"That said," Padma went on with a smirk, "I think it's actually a good idea for you to go out and test the grounds tomorrow. Using your magic seems to be bringing it back faster. It could be a bit like a muscle. Working it out will help it grow."

Hermione smiled at that. Some good news at least.

Padma dismissed her to go check the evening post - those letters that actually were from people she knew and needed to correspond with. It was an unusually large pile.

"Mum sent us some nut brittle and mince pies," Ron said, placing them on the table along with a jumper with an 'H' on it. "Plus, she knit this. I think she feels a bit bad for the press…"

Hermione smiled. "Please thank her for me," she said, pulling the jumper over her head immediately. As hideous as they always were, Mrs. Weasley's jumpers were the softest, coziests items of clothing she possessed, and she was happy to have another.

"Kingsley is getting restless," Harry sighed, flipping his single letter toward Hermione.

She scanned it.

Harry,

Wizengamot wants to meet to discuss the work Hermione is doing in the Department of Mysteries. I've stalled as long as I can, I think. This is a bit of a constitutional crisis. The Wizengamot has never stepped in before with the exception of a few odd cases where Unspeakables were actually practising Dark Arts.

Can you talk to her? Maybe she can return Nott and Malfoy to Azkaban as a sign of good faith and then work on their defence while they are there. I'm going to bring up the Charter of Government, but I must admit, I'm not certain I can even hold power through the next election. People are angry, Harry.

Anyway, I hope all is well. Send my thoughts to Ron and Hermione.

Kings

"I know he can't hold off forever," Hermione said. "I need to solve this bloody case. I just need three weeks!"

"I know," Harry said. "And I know why you can't let them go back there - not even for a night. Warden Hoganis cannot be trusted."

Hermione was grateful he understood, and she smiled at her friend, placing her hand on top of his. "Thank you, Harry. I really don't say it enough. I know I ask a lot of you…"

"Hermione, you aren't asking more from me than I asked of you for seven years when we were kids," he pointed out.

Hermione laughed. "Fair enough."

Ron had finished scanning the letter. "Mum and Dad say the public is mixed to negative about Hermione at this point. It's certainly not entirely against you."

That was a comforting thought at least. "People just want to leave all of that in the past," Ron went on. "They don't like having wounds reopened. But the Quibbler piece really did resonate with a lot of people and there was talk that the trials were rushed even before these cases landed in your lap, Hermione."

"I know," Hermione said. "Right now, I can only focus on the immediate. Which means tomorrow I'm going to start investigating the boathouse."

"We have to go into the Ministry tomorrow morning," Harry said.

"Padma says I'm almost as good as new, so I'll be perfectly fine," Hermione assured them. "Now, let's see what I have here…" she looked down at the pile of letters.

She blushed when she saw a letter from Oliver on top. She really needed to let the chap down easy. She'd completely forgotten to respond to his letter which seemed like ages ago.

She took a moment to jot out a sugar-coated rejection with the promise to make sure she'd introduce him to some nice witches when her schedule opened up.

"Your girlfriend has to stop trying to set me up, Harry," she said.

Harry snorted. "If you know how to get Parvati to stop trying to set up single witches she cares about, by all means teach me the secret. It's maddening. Do you know how many 'double dates' I go on where the two people we go with have no idea they are on a date?"

Hermione laughed. "I guess I can thank Merlin for the small mercy that Oliver wasn't foisted upon me in that environment."

Next was a letter from Rilla congratulating her for her successful counter-curse and promising her that she had the full weight of the Department of Mysteries behind her. Her boss had even thrown in some colourful language for Rita Skeeter that pleased Hermione greatly.

The last letter was not in a familiar hand. Hermione opened it and pulled out the parchment.

Hermione,

I read The Prophet this morning and wanted to reach out to you and see if what was written was true. I know that The Prophet can be full of rubbish - especially where you are concerned. But given that you work in a Department the public knows little about, I wanted to ask you, personally, are you helping Draco Malfoy avoid Azkaban?

Katie Bell

Hermione's heart pounded as she read the name.

Katie.

"Hermione what is it?" Harry asked, immediately noting her shift in mood.

"Katie Bell. She read The Prophet," Hermione explained, her voice sounding strained to her own ears.

"What did she say?" Ron asked cautiously.

"Not much. She wants to know if it is true," Hermione said.

"Are you going to write back?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Hermione said, biting her lip. "I'm not really supposed to corroborate that story because it would violate the secrecy under which I operate. On the other hand, I feel that I owe Katie an honest answer."

"Hermione, I don't think you should tell her. You have no way of knowing how she will react or who she will tell," Harry reasoned.

Hermione nodded. Harry was right, of course, but it didn't stop the pang inside her that made her think that she also had an obligation to be forthright with someone whom she considered a friend - someone Draco had hurt.

"I can't worry about it right now anyway," Hermione said. "Like I said, I have to focus on the immediate."

But she knew Katie's letter would roll around in her mind until she was able to somehow make it right - or at least explain the situation. That might not be for a long time.

"I'm off to bed," Ron said with a stretch. "I'm sure to be stuck with mounds of paperwork the moment I walk into the office."

Harry snorted. "You mean the work you've left for over a week…"

"Shut it," Ron muttered, getting up and heading to his bed.

"I'm going to go to bed too," Hermione said. "I want to get an early start tomorrow."

Harry nodded and went back to looking over whatever notes he'd been making when she walked over to the table.

Bypassing her own bed entirely, Hermione pushed open the curtains to Draco. She smiled as she saw him propped up on one arm, book in hand, one long leg stretched out in front of him with the other tucked behind it at an angle. His white-blond hair fell in his eyes as his intense grey eyes scanned the words of 'The Great Gatsby'.

Draco continued to read Muggle fiction despite now having access to a plethora of Magical authors. It made her smile. He was so engrossed in the book he didn't even notice her watching him until she placed her knee on the edge of the bed and he felt her weight shift it.

His smile made her stomach do flip-flops when he looked up at her. She smiled back. "Am I interrupting?" she asked.

Draco tossed the paperback over the side of the bed and she laughed. "Okay, well, since I plan to start early tomorrow on the grounds, I thought I'd turn in. I can go to my own bed if you want to stay up…"

Draco shook his head. "No, I took the cannabis potion so I'm a bit tired anyway."

"Is your arm hurting?" Hermione asked, her brows furrowing.

"Not much," Draco said. "I didn't sleep well last night. So, I figured I'd take it to get some sleep."

"Oh," Hermione said. "I hope that doesn't become a habit."

Draco rolled his eyes and moved to his knees to meet her halfway, kissing her on the cheek. "Like I told you before, I've developed more life altering habits than that over the last few weeks."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine. I suppose sleeping is more important at the moment."

"Thank you, Doctor," Draco said sarcastically, but his use of a muggle term took Hermione entirely by surprise and she burst into laughter.

"Keep using Muggle terms in the correct context and I might not want to go to sleep…" she said, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He grinned an actual, non-sarcastic grin and her stomach did somersaults again. Reaching up to cup her face, Draco leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. "Come, let's go to bed," he said, pulling away slowly.

Loathe as she was to stop kissing him, she nodded and moved back to stand next to the bed, shimmying out of her Muggle jeans and pulling the jumper over her head.

"What is that ghastly thing, by the way?" Draco indicated to the jumper she'd tossed to the side of the bed.

"It's from Mrs. Weasley - someone who has been very generous about you and Theo despite her son being attacked by Greyback at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, so watch what you say next," Hermione replied, hands on her hips.

"It's lovely," Draco said, after a moment as he removed his pants leaving him in a vest and boxers.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled. Climbing back into the bed next to Draco, this time under the thick down comforter that accompanied all Hogwarts beds.

I need to steal one of these when I leave.

Draco lay back against the plush pillows and opened his arm for Hermione to snuggle into his right sight, which she did immediately.

"I had a thought," he said, running his fingers absently through her hair.

"Mmmm," Hermione replied.

"In the morning, perhaps I could go down to the boathouse with you."

Hermione tipped her head up to look at him.

"I've still got The Mark. I don't know how exactly it works, but when The Dark Lord was alive, I could sense him nearby. I might be able to help," he continued.

Hermione watched him as he swallowed nervously. It was a brave thing to offer. Draco had no way of knowing how being closer to Voldemort's Energy might affect him. She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"It's a valid theory," she admitted. "I worry that with my magic only at ninety percent it could put you at risk."

"Padma is a patronus away," he pointed out. "Besides, I hate feeling useless. I've been nothing but an added burden since the moment you brought me from Azkaban…"

"Draco, it is my job. I never saw it that way, and I certainly don't see it that way now," she interrupted.

"But if I can be of use," Draco insisted.

"Okay," Hermione finally agreed. She knew that his feeling of helplessness was wearing on him and she couldn't deny that the company would be nice. "But I'll keep Padma on call just in case."

"Speaking of being useful," Draco said, pulling her in close, "we need to find Theo a hobby. He's far too interested in what we are doing."

Hermione laughed at that. "I'll think of something to occupy him," she promised.

Harry and Ron were still half asleep as they scarfed down breakfast. Hermione and Draco were already dressed and ready to head out onto the grounds when they emerged from behind the curtains of Draco's bed.

"Morning," Harry greeted. Ron just grunted - still not a morning person.

"Good morning, Harry," Hermione said with a smile as she grabbed a danish.

"Sausage too," Draco instructed. "Healers orders."

Hermione rolled her eyes but speared a single sausage with a fork and popped it into her mouth. "Happy?" she asked around a mouthful.

"British Muggle nobility and she talks with her mouth full of food," Draco quipped.

Both Harry and Ron snorted at that in unison.

"Anyway, we are headed down to the boathouse," Hermione said. "I assume both of you will be back at the Ministry by the time we get back." The two men nodded. "Can you take this to Rilla when you are there?" she asked, passing Harry a note. "It's just a more detailed update."

"Sure," Harry answered, pocketing the note.

Draco grabbed another green apple before following Hermione out of the common room. Once out of the room, Hermione took his hand and laced their fingers together. It was actually surreal. Being in Hogwarts, holding hands through the halls with Draco Malfoy was significantly weirder than when they were merely tucked away behind the curtains of his bed. Hermione giggled at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Draco asked, somewhat amused.

"Nothing," she said with a shrug. "Just, the very last person I'd have considered holding hands with at Hogwarts was you."

"Really?" Draco asked, teasingly. "Not Crabbe? Not Goyle? Me?"

Hermione laughed. "Okay, fair enough. Though, Crabbe and Goyle were never quite smart enough to figure out how to get under my skin the way you did."

"Not smart, but they were loyal," Draco replied.

Hermione said nothing to that. She knew that Crabbe and Goyle had been his friends and she didn't have much nice to say about them. It didn't matter much because they'd already reached the front steps of the castle and as they descended them, Hermione felt Draco stiffen.

"What…" she began to ask, looking up at him but she could see him taking in the view of the Hogwarts grounds with wonder. She'd forgotten that he hadn't been outside since they arrived. He took several deep breaths and pushed forward, squeezing her hand.

"It looks the same," she said, "just like the castle. We rebuilt everything. Only the Hogwarts Express station and boathouse remain unchanged. Neither received much damage and they don't even use the boathouse anymore. Everyone rides thestral-drawn carriages now - even the first years."

"The quidditch pitch?" he asked.

"Yes, it's the same place. Though I think that McGonagall added a few more seats. Hoping to host some preliminary games for the Quidditch World Cup, I think."

His eyes were looking in the direction of where the pitch was, though it was obstructed by the large castle in the way. He stood there, clutching her hand for a long moment before tearing his eyes away and looking back at her. "To the boathouse, then?" he said.

Hermione nodded, but she was slightly preoccupied by the thought of Draco longing to go flying, for she knew that was exactly what he'd been thinking. Theo was a flyer too, she remembered - he'd played Quidditch off and on. Maybe a trip to the pitch was due - though she'd prefer to wait until Draco's Mark was gone. The last thing she needed was for him to have an episode while one-hundred feet in the air.

They walked around the Black Lake, taking their time. The morning was beautiful. It was nearly April and the sun was just coming up in the east, casting a golden light on the fresh cut grass around the lake. Hermione cast a water repelling charm on their shoes so the fresh morning's dew didn't soak their trainers.

"Wonder if the squid is still in there," Hermione wondered idly.

"It was at least one-hundred years old when we attended. I can't imagine it doesn't have one-hundred more years left," Draco replied.

Once they reached the dock that led to the boathouse, Hermione let go of Draco's hand and took her wand out of a pocket in her robes. "How is your arm?" she asked.

"Five," Draco said. "It's slightly more painful out here than inside."

"Okay," she said, filing the information away in her brain. "Let's go in. I'll show you where Snape was killed." Draco nodded.

He followed her lead, over the weatherworn, broken boards of the floor. They could see the lake between wide slats until they became more solid and less fragile on firm ground. "We were here," she indicated to the far end of the boathouse behind shelves that, at one time, had held ropes and oars.

'"V-The Dark Lord and Snape were here," she pointed toward the centre of the room. "It will take me a moment to centre myself for the spell."

Draco nodded, coming to stand next to her. He, instinctively, put both hands on her shoulders and matched her breath as she took air into her lungs, long and deep, before letting the air out slowly. Hermione had to admit that his presence, his matching her breaths, his calm stillness helped her mind quiet down. She found it much easier to meditate and find the inner calm that she needed to perform the spell well.

"Essentia revalare tuum." Her wand felt as if it was humming in her hand.

"There," she said, "just as I anticipated. I can feel the strongest magic right where he killed Snape.'

"There's something, though…" Draco said, holding up a finger and closing his eyes as if to concentrate harder. Hermione dared not breathe as she watched him search out the room's atmosphere. He opened his eyes and looked at her. "It's like the call - but it's weak."

She watched as he looked around the room, taking in everything as he tried to grasp for something just out of reach.

"You can feel his magic?" Hermione asked, her heart nearly stopping in her chest. Truthfully, she'd never really thought bringing Draco out to the boathouse would be fruitful, but she liked the idea of not having to go alone.

"Not exactly," Draco explained. "When we walked outside, I could immediately feel the pull toward the Forbidden Forest. I assume the Dark Energy is located there." Hermione nodded. "The call was weak, but it's why my arm hurts more than it did inside. I'm resisting a call."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Hermione asked, her tone chastising. "Draco, if I can't trust you to tell me important things…"

"I wasn't entirely sure what was happening and I didn't want to offer false hope," Draco explained. "But in here, standing still, I can feel it. It's like a whisper of The Call. It's hard to explain. When we were called, during the War, it was a burning sensation but that was just part of it. It was almost the opposite of a Muggle Repelling spell. It was an attraction spell. We felt a strong urge to go. I feel, in the back of my mind, a pushing toward the Forbidden Forest. That urge is slightly stronger in here."

Hermione nodded. "Okay," she said, already thinking about what their next, most efficient option was. "Does it feel particularly strong anywhere inside here?"

Draco closed his eyes and concentrated again. "Mmm," he grunted in what appeared to be pain as he moved toward the south corner of the boathouse.

"If it hurts…" Hermione interrupted but he shook his head.

"I'm fine," he bit out. He moved to the wall, seemed to listen to it for a moment before moving down, crouching over a particular spot just near the door. 'It seems to stop here,' he said pointing down into the ground.

Hermione wracked her brains trying to think of an instance of magic seeping into the ground. She moved over to where Draco was crouching and cast the spell again, "Essentia revalare tuum." Yes. It was there. She could distinctly pull Voldemort's signature from there, but there was nothing there.

"Shall we see if we can pick up the signature outside?" she asked.

Draco nodded, getting up and extending his hand to her to help her up as well.

They went back out the way they came, and Hermione cast the spell again while Draco concentrated.

"Nothing…" he muttered to himself, but then as if a dog catching a whiff of his target, Draco's eyes widened and he moved quickly ten paces toward the castle, around the lake. "Here," he said, pointing at the ground again.

Hermione cast the spell and investigated the surrounding area. It was as if the magic dampened and then strengthened in that very spot. Why?

She knelt on the wet grass and Draco joined her as she inspected the land for any trace of anything that would explain why the signature was stronger there. Placing her hands on the grass she felt around until her fingers brushed against a gaping hole, only unseen because of a fair bit of overgrown grass.

Using her wand, she removed the grass and found herself staring into what was either a very large rat or very small badger hole - considering their proximity to the water, she guessed a rat.

The pushed her wand into the ground and reached out for Draco's hand, centering herself again. "Essentia revalare tuum."

She gasped when she realised that the signature was stronger when she cast underground.

A bloody fucking Horcrux.

"Merlin, not again," she cried, pounding her fist against the earth and letting out a frustrated cry.

"Hermione!" Draco gasped, taking her hand in his and inspecting it for wounds. "What is it?"

"He's made a Horcrux, probably by accident which is why he has no control over it. I have no idea how he did it, but I'll bet my life he split his soul one last time when he killed Snape, and it attached itself to the nearest warm body - whatever lived in this hole," she explained. "I've got to contact Harry now!"

"Wait, but why did we only discover the Energy within the last six months?" Draco asked. "Why did my Mark not start to bother me until then?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "If I were guessing, I'd say whatever he attached himself to died a natural death and the Horcrux tried to find a new home but it couldn't. That's when the Energy - his Soul - started to panic and call out. I have no idea what that means. The reality is, we don't know nearly enough about Horcruxes.

"Let's get back to the castle. I have to do a lot of research and I want Ron and Harry to redouble the wards on the perimeter just in case," she continued. Once again Draco helped her to her feet and they began toward the castle, this time at a much quicker clip.

But before they even reached the Entrance Hall, Harry and Ron intercepted them. "Harry!" Hermione cried. "You won't believe…"

"In a minute, Hermione," Harry said, his face looking as though he was about to impart some very bad news.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, feeling her heart race and her palms begin to sweat.

"The Rakov Brothers have left Romania. Intel suggests they've caught a black-market portkey to Scotland. We have no idea where they are," Ron answered for Harry.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Her mind immediately went to the man standing beside her. "We have to cure Draco, now."

"Hermione, you still need a week…" Harry began, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

"No, the Rakov Brothers could utilise The Mark in ways we don't even know once they realise Draco is free from Azkaban. It's a danger to Draco and it's a danger to all of us," Hermione reasoned.

Draco shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I've made it painfully clear that I don't want Hermione to do this ritual, but she has a point. Death Eaters can summon each other in close enough distance. You either need to return me to Azkaban or The Mark has to be removed, otherwise I'm a risk to all of you."

"You aren't going back to Azkaban," Hermione insisted.

"Padma and Madam Pomfrey have to agree," Harry said. Hermione nodded.

"Well, let's make arrangements then," he sighed. "Just once, I'm going to get my way in one of these conversations."

"Keep telling yourself that, mate," Ron said, patting his best friend on the back.

Draco took a deep breath and linked his fingers with Hermione's again. She looked up at him with what she hoped was a reassuring smile. By tomorrow she'd free him from that curse, and then there were only about one hundred other crises to deal with.