A/N: This chapter is a bit dialogue heavy, but I promise we'll get more action soon! If the end feels abrupt, that's because it is-I initially had it going on further, but it wound up getting way too long, so I decided to cut it there. The good news is that next chapter is partially written!

Next chapter we'll see Ginny, and she's not too happy about being excluded (by me OR Harry)!

As always, thanks to everyone who reviews, favorites, follows, etc. Y'all make my day :-)

CHAPTER SIX

"Well, go on then," Harry said once Malfoy was seated across from Hermione, Ron and Harry standing behind her (an arrangement Ron quite liked, as he could glare freely at Malfoy without Hermione giving him that disapproving look).

Draco Malfoy was fidgeting in his seat, and Ron wondered at the source of his restlessness. Was he really so anxious about Astoria Greengrass's whereabouts? Or was he perhaps plotting some sort of revenge against them? It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind, though it was always fleeting and quickly dismissed. Logically, Ron knew that Malfoy wasn't likely to do anything that would jeopardize his comfort. He'd proven at the height of You-Know-Who's power and after the battle that he would stoop to anything to save his own skin, including giving information on all of his former friends. Now, powerless, friendless, and condemned, Ron doubted that Malfoy had any desire to threaten the meager shell of his former life that he'd manage to scrape out for himself after the war. He was petty and vengeful, certainly, but not in the way that posed any real threat. There was no doubt in Ron's mind that Malfoy would hex him if the opportunity presented itself and he was sure he wouldn't be caught, but he very much doubted Malfoy had it in him to do anything truly nefarious; he'd always been unable to carry out any acts of true evil, choosing instead to stand by and watch. While it made him almost more reprehensible in Ron's eyes, as he obviously understood the extent of what was happening and still chose to overlook it, Malfoy was fairly harmless. He was simply a massive pain in Ron's arse.

"I've had a letter from Credence Bulstrode. He's Millicent's cousin. He was never directly involved with the Dark Lord, but his family supported him so I thought he may have heard something. I was right.

"He doesn't know much, but said he's heard talk of some former supporters gathering round some eccentric witch in Wales who says she's trained in some kind of ancient magic. He says that he doesn't know if they're actually looking to her as a leader or if they're simply trying to learn a new form of magic to become more powerful. Apparently she preaches the importance of blood purity and ancestral connection, says that's the source of powerful magic."

"Course," Ron said, rolling his eyes. "It's always blood supremacy or some other rubbish, innit? These maniacs never think powerful magic comes from anything sensible like skill."

"What sort of ancient magic is it?" Harry asked, eyes narrowed.

"He didn't say," Malfoy responded. "But he told me he's not sure if she's really a witch or if she might be a nymph or some other creature. Apparently, it's some sort of naturalist tradition."

"I wonder if it's blood magic," Hermione said, sounding worried.

"Could be," Malfoy agreed.

"Blood magic?" Harry repeated, obviously confused. Hermione glanced back at Malfoy, who looked solemn, before speaking.

"It's a really awful branch of dark magic that uses parts of another's body, primarily blood, but sometimes flesh as well. What Peter Pettigrew did to restore Voldemort to a human body was blood magic. He used the blood, flesh, and bones of others to cast the kind of magic that couldn't be carried out with just a wand. It's really powerful, but it's absolutely horrid, and it comes at a price. It's cursed magic, you see."

"It's tricky," Malfoy said, nodding in agreement. "And very dangerous if you don't do it correctly. Most dark wizards don't even dabble in it. There are… repercussions of such spells. Since so much of the magic is taken from another person, sometimes you get bits of them that you don't want. You have to know your… source very well to get the kind of outcome you want." Harry caught Hermione's eye, and Ron knew what they were thinking: that it had been Harry's blood infused in Voldemort's veins that had made him unable to kill Harry. It was just as Malfoy was saying, the blood that Voldemort used to restore his body was filled with the protection of Lily Potter's sacrifice, unbeknownst to him. This mistaken bit of blood magic had been his downfall.

"You seem to know quite a bit about it," Ron said. Malfoy glared at him.

"I'm a potioneer and an alchemist, Weasley, of course I'm familiar with it. I thought Aurors were supposed to know all about dark magic, though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you haven't got a clue."

"If I'm so dense and you're so clever, then why is it you've come to us for help?" Ron asked, voice laced with sarcasm and disdain. Malfoy continued glaring, but didn't say anything. He and Ron stared at each other for a few tense seconds until Malfoy finally looked away. Ron continued scowling.

"Blood magic is a possibility, but we can't know anything for sure. He hasn't heard anything except that it's some kind of ancient art?" Hermione asked. Malfoy shook his head.

"Nothing else. Here, you can see for yourself." He pulled out a folded bit of parchment, which Hermione took from him. Her eyes moved quickly along the page as she skimmed through it, till she paused, putting her finger on a sentence.

"'I know little about it, though I have overheard talk of a new dark savior more than once,'" Hermione read aloud. "'Geoffrey Flint swears that her power is unrivaled, some sort of ancient magic passed down through generations. The way he talks, it sounds as if she's a woodland creature who gets her power through the moon or something. If you ask me, it sounds like rubbish, but then again Flint was always gullible. It appears she's got a number of devout followers though, as last I was at the Leaky, a group of lads had just come from something to do with her, though they were very secretive about the whole business. It seems they're under the impression that this new magic will restore them to their former glory, but I think it's farfetched. Most of it sounds like a story, and even if it isn't, I want nothing to do with it…" She trailed off, going silent as she read through the rest of the letter.

"That's it?" Ron asked. "That's all you've got to go on?

"What do you mean that's all?" Malfoy sneered. "That's about ten times the evidence you two have uncovered! And you do this for a living, do you?"

"You asked for our help," Harry said hotly. "And we're doing you a massive favor, so either stop whinging about it or go and let us get on with our jobs. We've got other dark wizards to catch and missing people to find besides the ones you care about." Once again, Malfoy fell silent, looking about as contrite as Ron thought him capable of.

"Ron's right, this isn't much to go on," Hermione said, staring down at the note. "Still, it isn't nothing. I don't think we should take Credence Bulstrode at his word, particularly as he says he's got nothing to do with it. But we've at least got somewhere to start. And I agree with Malfoy, this bit about ancient magic, especially if others are interested in it enough to want to learn… well, it's concerning."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all shared a look, clearly feeling the same sense of foreboding. While they may come to different conclusions, it was impossible to deny the anxiety that this note inspired. Ron had worked as an Auror long enough to recognize the characteristics of dark magic and this sounded an awful lot like it.

"Credence doesn't know who she is exactly, but says they call her The Enchantress and The Mother," Malfoy said.

"The Mother?" Hermione repeated. "Why?" Malfoy shrugged.

"Perhaps that's part of the ancient magic. Sounds like she's some sort of naturalist, maybe believes in the power of nature."

"Or perhaps she's skilled in maternal magic," Hermione said, her tone meaningful. The three men looked at her, and Ron could tell by their expressions that he wasn't the only one not following. She huffed.

"If she's trained as a midwitch then that might explain the connection to Astoria's disappearance."

"Yeah," Ron said slowly. "Or else it could be that Astoria sought her out willingly. If this Enchanted Mother or whatever says she knows some magical secrets about birth, could be Astoria Greengrass wanted to find out what they were." Harry nodded thoughtfully, obviously turning this theory over in his mind. Malfoy looked insulted.

"Astoria would never seek out someone who was even remotely connected to the dark arts. She detests them," he said.

"You seem awfully sure of that, Malfoy. I'm not sure I trust your judgment." Malfoy leapt to his feet so quickly he knocked over the chair. Hermione jumped at the noise.

"You don't know her!"

"No, but I know her sister, and she's a nasty piece of work," Ron spat. Malfoy laughed darkly, that malicious glint that Ron recognized from school shining in his eyes.

"Not every family has got a collective identity like yours, Weasley. Some of us are more complex. Though I suppose when there are twelve of you living in a shack, you've got to share a personality as well as everything else. Get yours secondhand, did you?" Harry had his wand pointed at Malfoy's chin before Ron could pull his own from his robes. Hermione said nothing, simply giving Malfoy a disgusted glare.

"Say one more word about the Weasleys and we're done here. Understand?" Harry said, his voice slow and dangerous. Malfoy nodded, staring down the tip of Harry's wand. Harry lowered his arm, but didn't put it away. Tense silence enveloped the four of them.

"You've given us a lot to think on," Hermione finally said in the lofty tone of voice that she sometimes used in meetings which Ron knew meant she was trying not to show her disgust. "If you hear anything else, send an owl, or if it's urgent, a patronus." To Ron's surprise, an ugly flush crept up Malfoy's face. Color suited him even less than his sickly, pale complexion did.

"I can't cast a patronus," Malfoy admitted, his expression dark with mortification. Ron's eyebrows shot up. Harry caught Ron's eye, looking smug, and Ron suppressed a self-satisfied grin. Harry had been casting a corporeal patronus since the age of thirteen, and here Draco Malfoy couldn't do it at twenty-two. Pathetic. Or maybe, Ron thought, he hasn't got anything to be joyful about. Perhaps it should have made him feel bad for Malfoy, but Ron found this thought cheered him up even more. After years of calling Hermione a mudblood and being an insufferable bastard, not to mention the part he played during the war, Ron thought Malfoy had gotten off far too easy considering all the suffering he'd caused. If he was miserable, it was no less than he deserved.

"Right," Hermione said, her expression and tone both frosty. "Then owl will have to do." With that, she turned away from Malfoy, an obvious dismissal. Neither Ron nor Harry bothered to look up at him as he left.

"Ooh, he's still completely vile," Hermione hissed after her office door shut behind him.

"I wish you'd hit him again," Ron said, leaning against the side of her desk. Hermione's lip twitched, her annoyance obviously outweighing the desire to laugh.

"Trust me, I'd like nothing more," she said in a dignified tone of voice. Ron grinned.

"What do you make of this dark witch, Harry?" Hermione asked. Ron glanced back at Harry, who had his arms crossed as he leaned against the back of one of Hermione's armchairs, wearing a thoughtful, faraway look. He looked up, as if only remembering they were there.

"I'm not sure," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. It stood nearly straight up. Ron resisted the urge to laugh at the sight of Harry's serious expression juxtaposed with his hair standing on end.

"What do you think the chances are that Malfoy's information is accurate?" Harry asked. Hermione didn't answer, instead looking to Ron, who shrugged.

"I'd say your guess is good as mine. Credence Bulstrode isn't a Death Eater, but I wouldn't put it past him to know what they get up to. Dad got some very suspicious dark objects out of his parent's house after the war," Ron said.

"What makes you so sure he isn't a Death Eater?" Hermione asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Have you ever met him? He cares too much about his own hide to take any kind of ideological stance. No way he would've joined up with the Death Eaters unless he was sure they'd win and he'd come out ahead. No, I reckon he laid low during the war, hedged his bets in case either side won."

"Does he have any reason to lie to Malfoy?" Hermione asked. Ron glanced at Harry, who shrugged.

"No idea," Ron said. "I can't think of any, but that doesn't mean he hasn't got one." Hermione pressed a finger to her lips, obviously mulling this over.

"So," she finally said. "We can't trust that this is reliable information. It's questionable at best." Ron pressed his lips together, but nodded his agreement. Harry had turned and was staring into the dying dregs of the fireplace.

"S'pose we could try to verify it, speak to our contacts, spread the word to other departments. If there really is some barmy witch calling herself the enchanted mother and practicing blood magic and Credence Bulstrode has heard of it, then surely other wizards have as well," Ron suggested. He glanced between Harry and Hermione for a reaction, but they both looked thoughtful, absorbing Ron's words. After a beat of silence, Hermione spoke.

"I think you ought to speak with your Death Eater contacts," she said, looking solemn. Ron resisted the urge to groan. Harry actually did groan.

"Hermione, I think you seriously overstate our connections. The only Death Eaters who've given us information were trying to save their own arses. Without the threat of Azkaban, I doubt they'll tell us anything." Ron nodded. He agreed with Harry, of course, but even more, the absolute last thing Ron wanted to do was talk to a bunch of maniacs who'd been stripped of their former glory and left with nothing but a lofty sense of self. They'd been insufferable before Voldemort's fall, but now they were positively maddening. It was hard to tell who hated the other more, Harry and Ron or their Death Eater contacts. Ron would honestly have preferred to duel them rather than have to sit in their parlor under all of those creepy pureblood relics and wheedle information out of them. Voldemort certainly didn't pick his henchmen for their personalities.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hermione said cryptically. "You're quite powerful these days. If they believe there's something in it for them, I'm sure they would be much more likely to speak with you."

"So, what? You want me to bribe them?"

"Of course not," Hermione snapped. "Don't be dense, you know perfectly well what I mean."

"I dunno if we should be talking to Death Eaters about this. I mean, what if they don't know anything about it and we've given them ideas? The last thing we want is to encourage more dark magic," Ron said. Hermione sent him an exasperated look.

"Ron, if the ministry has made the connection between these events, I'm certain former Death Eaters have as well. They likely knew ages before us, especially if they're still in contact with other Voldemort supporters. And if it's already made its way to Credence Bulstrode…"

"Then who knows who else has heard about it by now," Harry finished. Hermione nodded.

"Exactly. I reckon that perhaps Astoria Greengrass knew about–" Ron cut her off.

"We aren't seriously still pretending that Astoria Greengrass has got anything to do with this, are we?" he asked.

"You really don't think there's a connection?" Hermione asked flatly.

"No, I don't. No one has heard anything or seen anything dodgy. She passed off all her patients. She took care of everything and then left town of her own accord. Obviously she's just trying to give Malfoy the slip, and who can blame her? He was a right nasty bastard in school and he still is."

"You can't seriously find the circumstances of her disappearance completely normal!"

"If there was something deeper going on, we'd have found some evidence of it! We haven't seen a damn thing that points to anything more than her going off on her own."

"Harry," Hermione said, suddenly changing tactics. "What do you think?" Ron rolled his eyes at her appeal to him.

"Harry's going to tell you the same thing I just did!" But Harry didn't speak right away, and when Ron turned to look at him, he looked apprehensive.

"Actually, I think Hermione might be right. I mean sure, Astoria Greengrass obviously keeps to herself. But for her not to tell anyone she's leaving town? That seems a bit suspicious. And Malfoy is convinced. If anyone has a sixth sense for a darker force at work it ought to be him, and the fact that he's so concerned he's come to us for help? I dunno. I'm getting more and more suspicious the less we find any concrete evidence. Don't you think it's strange that we haven't found anything?"

"Since when do you trust Malfoy? Even he admits they rowed before she disappeared. If you ask me, the person most likely to have done her in is him!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"If he's behind her disappearance then why would he come to us for help? Surely he'd be glad that the Aurors aren't concerned she's gone missing."

"Maybe he's trying to throw us off," Ron suggested. "Her family would've reported it eventually, and this way he looks innocent."

"I don't like Malfoy anymore than you do, mate, but I don't think he's involved. He seems legitimately torn up over her disappearance," Harry said. "Malfoy's too much of a proud bastard to humble himself by asking for our help unless he was really desperate."

Ron huffed. He was unused to being the odd man out. Generally it was Harry and him ganging up on Hermione or—as was more frequently the case these days—Hermione and him against Harry. Ron didn't much like being on the other side of things.

"But," Harry continued. "Just because I don't think Malfoy's involved doesn't mean I think Astoria Greengrass has been kidnapped by dark wizards. Seems a bit dramatic, yeah?" Ron nodded. Hermione looked unconvinced, but she said nothing.

"But you reckon there's a connection between her disappearance and this dark witch?" Ron asked.

"Seems like too much of a coincidence for these things to be going on completely separate from one another."

"Yeah," Ron said. "I reckon you're probably right."

"I don't think we should discount Astoria Greengrass looking for this woman of her own free will," Harry said. "Plenty of people have done stupider things."

"Malfoy seems very confident that she wouldn't have," Hermione said, as if that settled it. Ron laughed.

"So? If you hadn't noticed, Malfoy is an idiot. And her entire family is into the dark arts, it isn't exactly unbelievable."

"And so was Sirius's, but that doesn't mean he was a Death Eater as well. That sort of thinking is exactly why he got thrown into Azkaban in the first place!"

"Yeah, alright," Ron admitted. "But the fact is we don't know anything about Astoria Greengrass except for what Malfoy and her sister have told us, and neither of them are exactly unbiased or reliable." Hermione sighed.

"Yes, you're right, of course," she said.

"Sorry, what was that? I'm what?" Ron said, cupping a hand around his ear and feigning shock. Hermione smiled in spite of herself.

"Oh, shut up, I tell you that you're right all the time." Ron caught Harry's eye and they shared an amused look.

"Then you must wait till I'm out of earshot because you haven't said that to me once in living memory." Hermione rolled her eyes, continuing on without acknowledging that Ron had spoken.

"Even if she has gone willingly, I don't see how it changes anything. There's still a potential dark wizard gaining followers." Ron's smile died and he caught Harry's eye. His own apprehension was mirrored on his face.

"I wonder if Astoria didn't hear about this witch and start talking about it a bit too freely," Hermione said. "Especially if she's as staunchly against the dark arts as Malfoy says, perhaps she told her sister or her patients about how much she disapproves and it got back to some of this witch's followers."

"And what? You think they killed her?" Ron asked, sounding as unconvinced as she felt.

"No," Hermione admitted. "But perhaps they wanted to frighten her so they took her somewhere and left her without a wand. Remember when Fred locked Montague in that vanishing cabinet in fifth year? Could be something like that."

"And she still hasn't cropped up?" Harry asked, mirroring Ron's skeptical tone. "It's been weeks."

"Oh, I don't know! I can't imagine they're holding her hostage, but I suppose it's possible."

"Why stop there? Maybe they've sent her on holiday to America," Ron said sarcastically. "That would really show her. And it explains why she hasn't come back yet." Hermione glared at him.

"Alright, I admit that it's unlikely!"

"What I want to know," Harry said loudly, interrupting them before a row could break out. "Is what those kidnappings have got to do with all this? Seems strange that they would be happening simultaneously but I can't work out a connection. What would a dark witch want with a bunch of kids? And not just magic kids either." Ron looked to Hermione, who generally always had some sort of theory, but she looked as stumped as he was.

"No idea," Ron finally said. "But I'm not convinced there is a connection. It would be weird, I admit, but it isn't unheard of for bits of unrelated crime to pop up at once. That seems more explanable than a bunch of former Death Eaters running a kidnapping ring." Hermione sighed.

"I really feel like there's a connection," she said. "But that's it. It's only a feeling, and I've got nothing to go off of. I think perhaps Ron's right and we ought to treat it as something separate. At least for now."

"Wow, I'm right again? Must be a record!" Ron said cheerily. Hermione smacked his arm, but gently, and she was grinning at him. Harry sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead.

In the years since Voldemort's defeat, his scar had faded a bit, though Ron always seemed to notice it in these moments of tension. He thought it was more of a habit than any real physical change: he associated stress with fighting Voldemort, which Harry's scar was both a physical reminder of and often a literal connection with. These days, Ron rarely noticed Harry's scar, and Harry had not complained about it hurting since the war ended. He wondered if he ever felt it twinge, even just a ghost of some pain long past. Sometimes his arm ached where he'd been splinched escaping the ministry all those years ago, like a memory of the physical and emotional pain he'd endured for months after, his bandaged arm unwieldy and his head heavy under the weight of Slytherin's locket.

"You're both still coming round tonight, yeah?" Harry asked. Ron jerked his eyes away from Harry's scar, settling on his hopeful expression. It wasn't unusual to see his best mate filled with hope these days, but sometimes Ron was still struck with the unfamiliar way it settled in the lines of his face. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the sight of a carefree Harry, and he was positive it would never stop making him immensely happy.

"Of course!" Hermione said, and Harry positively beamed.

"Excellent. Ginny's going spare with just me to talk to."

"I'm surprised you can get a word in, Ginny never shuts up," Ron said. Harry laughed.

"Well, I'm sure I won't get the chance tonight with the two of you around as well!" he said cheerfully.

"Are you planning on insulting us over dinner, as well? I know you were raised in a cupboard, Harry, but I expect better manners from you," Hermione said dryly. Harry and Ron both roared with laughter, always pleasantly surprised when she teased them. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Honestly," she scoffed, but she was smiling.

Ron felt the warm reach of happiness engulf him as he watched Harry and Hermione grin at each other. It wasn't often that the three of them got to spend time laughing together without the looming presence of work or family or doing the shopping, and with Harry's baby on the way, he doubted they'd get much more in future. But in those rare moments, it was hard to remember all of the suffering they'd seen. Sometimes Ron thought that their friendship was so strong because they had been through so much together-but others, like this moment right now, he knew they would've been friends regardless. He couldn't imagine anything else.