AN: This chapter did not want to be written, so we're moving on. Apologies for any spelling or grammar errors, I got tired of looking at it. I hope everyone has a great weekend!

-..-

When the War had ended and everyone had tried to find some semblance of a normal life to return to, Hermione had been grateful that certain things hadn't changed. Ron was still married to his appetite and was an avid quidditch fan. Hermione was still a resident of the library and addicted to books. And Harry…

"Merlin bless Harry," Hermione growled under her breath. He was still the most unorganized individual she had ever met. Oh, he had a heart that was far too big for this world and a wicked sense of humor. His book keeping skills, however, were greatly lacking. "This office hasn't been organized since the day he took it."

Ginny looked around the room, her lip pulled back in disgust. "I'm not the most organized person in the world," she said, "but this is too much even for me."

Harry's office at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement looked like a tornado made up entirely of papers had blown through the room. Twice. There were stacks of scrolls and ledgers that had fallen over and caused an avalanche of other stacks, the chaos of which covered half the floor. One of the two chairs situated before his desk was piled high with a stack of memos nearly as tall as Hermione, and there was a dusty cloak draped over them that looked in desperate need of a wash. The room smelled like an attic that hadn't been opened in a decade.

"This room would be a nargle's dream," Luna said. She looked curiously around the room with her usual dreamy expression. Hermione wasn't going to ask for any sort of sound reasoning, but Luna offered her explanation nonetheless. "They could steal as many papers as they like, and Harry would never notice. It's a wonder he doesn't have an infestation yet."

"Maybe because they don't exist?" Hermione said it quietly enough that Luna didn't appear to hear her, but it earned her an elbow to the ribs from Ginny. "Nargles or not, this place is a nightmare. How are we supposed to figure out where they went when we can't even find his desk?"

Ginny ignored Luna's very obvious pointing towards Harry's desk and said, "I don't have the energy or the attention span to tackle this problem. Can't we just, I dunno, accio the memo or something?"

"Who says there's even a memo to find?" Hermione frowned at the chaos around her and felt her fingertips begin to itch with the need to organize it all. Honestly, it wouldn't even take her that long. Just a few hours of uninterrupted organizing, and she could have it looking like a brand new office by the end of the day.

"Don't even start." Ginny was pointing an accusatory finger at Hermione, her expression stern. "I know that look. That's the same look you got when you saw the quidditch shed at the Burrow, and you ended up organizing that mess for three days."

"It needed it," Hermione said defensively. "That shed was the most absurdly —"

Ginny cut her off, "It doesn't matter. We don't have time for that today, Hermione. You're trying to distract yourself from the worry of not knowing where they are, and that's not healthy. Face it head on, and use it to find them."

Hermione glared at her but only because she was right. Stress cleaning was an odd habit she had picked up while on the run with Harry and Ron. It helped direct her anxious energy, but she tended to come out of it more stressed than when she started.

"What Ginny means to say is that you can have all the time in the world to force Harry to clean his office once they come back." Luna smiled serenely at her and asked, "Wouldn't it be better to teach him to be neat rather than to be neat for him?"

It was always unsettling when Luna had a point, and a correct one at that.

The three witches decided the best tactic would be to divide and conquer. Luna set about looking for nargles since they were known to steal only the things you needed them not to, or so she explained to the others. Ginny left to find Harry's assistant Isobel if he had told her where he'd gone. Hermione went to speak with Susan Bones.

Hermione hadn't been very close to Susan during their years at Hogwarts, but she had taken after her aunt, Amelia Bones, and had worked her way up through the Ministry. It was impressive to be the Minister's Undersecretary at such a young age, and Hermione hoped the position lent Susan enough of a position to know where Harry and Draco might be. She didn't want to have to go to Kingsley, that felt too much like using her fame to get her way. At least Susan had been one of her classmates.

"Hermione," Susan greeted her brightly when she arrived at her office. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Hermione returned her smile and tried not to let her trepidation show through. She really didn't want to have to suffer through small talk while Harry and Draco remained missing. "How have you been?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Minister Shacklebolt has been keeping me very busy." She glanced back towards the door to Kingsley's office which was situated behind her. "Are you here for a meeting?"

Hermione pushed her hands into her pockets to keep from picking at her fingernails and shook her head. "No, I'm actually here to see you."

"Me?"

"Yes." Hermione really wasn't sure how to phrase her question. She had been trying to come up with possibilities on her walk there, but had arrived empty handed. "I was actually looking for Harry," she finally said, "but couldn't find him in his office. It's a bit odd for him not to be here on a Saturday, isn't it?" She tried not to wince at how ridiculous that sounded. Even Ministry workers tended to have weekends off from work.

Susan's smile took on an uncomfortable tone as she shifted in her seat, her eyes darting back towards Kingsley's door once more. "Well, it is a bit odd since he didn't work last weekend, which is an odd thing for me to know." She laughed awkwardly. "But I'm pretty close with Isobel, and she mentioned he should be working this weekend. I believe he's out on DMLE business."

Hermione felt bad for making her uncomfortable, but she was glad Susan felt the need to dump information when she was uncomfortable. She was still rambling about her friendship with Isobel and why it wasn't that strange that she knew when Harry was supposed to be working. She smiled reassuringly and said, "Thank you, Susan. I'm glad you were able to make such a good friend within the Ministry. I know that makes work more enjoyable."

Susan smiled gratefully at her and seemed to relax a bit. "Yes, it does. She really is wonderful. Wickedly intelligent, as well."

"Did she happen to mention where Harry was going? I was hoping to speak with him about a personal matter that's somewhat time sensitive."

"Well." Susan frowned. "I think she said something about having to send in some sudden paperwork for a portkey." She looked towards Kingsley's door - Hermione was beginning to wonder if it was providing the witch with moral support - and muttered, "It's probably find. She's Hermione."

Hermione grit her teeth. She hated her fame, truly and deeply hated it. "I'm sorry, Susan. I shouldn't impose on you like this."

"No, it's fine," Susan reassured her quickly. "He's your best friend after all. I think she said it was for a portkey to Ireland, but I can't be certain."

"Thank you, Susan. I really appreciate it." Hermione bid her goodbye and made her way back to Harry's office.

The chaos that greeted her was exactly what she should have expected from leaving Luna alone in the mountains of paperwork. A cloud of old memos charmed into the shapes of birds flew in circles above the room. The floor was covered in charmed paper frogs which managed to croak, but it sounded more like a squeaking door rather than a real frog. Luna sat in the middle of it all grinning like a child in a candy shop.

Hermione looked at the paper-crafted anarchy around her, sighed, and shut the office door.

"Has she created an army of animals yet?" Ginny was walking down the hallway towards her, a large grin on her face. "She always does that when I leave her alone with the morning post."

"And you haven't tried to stop her?" The thought of having to chase her newspaper around the house while it croaked at her was deeply disturbing.

Ginny looked skeptical. "Have you ever tried to stop Luna from doing anything?"

"I suppose not. Did you find anything out from Isobel?"

"Nothing useful," Ginny said with an overly dramatic roll of her eyes. "The witch is a horrid gossip. I learned far too more about the inter-office dramatics than I could ever want to know."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to scream in frustration. They had already lost several hours in this gods-forsaken place and had nothing to show for it. She hadn't heard from Draco in days, and the worry was beginning to gnaw at her stomach. She didn't even know where to start looking. If she hadn't run off to the muggle world, if she had stayed and accepted the auror position that Harry had offered her, then she would already know where they were and been able to go help them. If hadn't been so selfish, so absorbed in her own misery and loss…

She tasted coppery tang of blood. She'd bitten the inside of her cheek too hard again.

"Hermione." Ginny placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and forced her to meet her eyes. "We will find them," she said, "and we will bring them home. You found the scattered pieces of Voldemort's soul. What are two wizards compared to that?"

Hermione smiled gratefully at her and tried to ignore the throbbing of her cheek. "Thanks, Gin. What would I do without you?"

"Probably lose all your hair to stress and work yourself into an early grave." Ginny patted her shoulder and opened the door to Harry's office. "C'mon, love, we've got wayward wizards to find."

The muffled sound of Luna's complaining caused Ginny to grin and shake her head.

"You can make more frogs at home, I promise." Ginny looked to Hermione and grumbled, "I just hope they don't make that Godric's damned sound this time."

Luna popped out of the office, a bird-shaped memo nested in her hair, and asked, "Have you spoken with Draco's friends, Hermione?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She was an idiot, a thrice damned idiot.

Seeing the look on Hermione's face, Ginny sent her eyes skyward and groaned. "Bloody hell, that should have been step one!"

"Well, I see that now!" Hermione rubbed at her tired eyes and felt the prickle of hot, frustrated tears.

"No need to upset yourself over it," Luna said. She pulled Hermione's hands away from her face and held them in her own. "We cannot change what we've done, nor can we go back in time to do it better. All we can do is find a better way to enchant the frogs." She spoke like it was the most profound thing she had ever said, and in an odd way it made sense. Sort of, if Hermione didn't think about it too hard.

"Thank you for your help today." Hermione squeezed Luna's hands and smiled at them both. "I really appreciate it, but I think I can take it from here. I'll go speak with Pansy or Theo and see what I can find."

Ginny pulled Luna up against her side. "You better floo us as soon as you know where to go."

Hermione nodded but said nothing.

The witches bid each other goodbye and went their separate ways. Hermione considered her options and immediately eliminated Blaise from her list. Even if he knew anything about Draco and Harry's whereabouts, he would be nearly impossible to get information from. If, and it was quite a big if, Pansy and Theo ended up not knowing anything useful, she would go to Blaise.

And hate every minute of it, she thought crossly. Nothing good ever came from Blaise Zabini's meddling, of that she was certain.

She ended up going to see Theo first. She considered him to be a friend, not just a colleague, and she knew he would tell her anything he might know. Pansy was a bit more unlikely, tending towards clever maneuvering and careful plotting more than helping out of the goodness of her heart. There was goodness there, Hermione had found, but not enough trust. Not yet.

Theo had been watching Virago for her, a fact she found a touch unsettling. Walking through the front door of her shop, Hermione realized she was spending far too much time away from it. Pushing the guilt down on top of the anxiety and dread bubbling deep inside her, Hermione tried not to think about the way her heart beat painfully in her chest.

"Theo?" She hadn't seen him when she first walked in which was odd. He was almost always behind the desk sketching on a piece of parchment or talking to Widget. Speaking of, she hadn't seen the hummingbird in a while either. "Theo, are you here?"

The door to one of the appointment rooms opened, and Theo stuck his head out grinning widely at her. "Hullo, Hermione. I thought you were taking the day off?"

"I am, I just had a quick question for you." She frowned when he didn't step further into the room. "Am I interrupting an appointment?"

Theo glanced into the room behind him and stuttered, "No, not really, I mean, not an important once." A muffled voice spoke in the room behind him and a flush rose to his cheeks. "Not that it's not important, it's just, it can wait. I mean, while you ask your question. What was it, again? Your question?"

Hermione considered going into the room to find what was making him so cagey, but she was in too much of a hurry. It was Theo, after all. How much trouble could he get up to. "It's about Draco," she said. "Do you know where he and Harry were headed? They left yesterday, I believe, and I haven't been able to reach either of them."

"Oh, that." He looked almost relieved. "Draco mentioned that the other day. Ireland, I believe he said. Some witch with an odd name; she helps the selkies out near Galway." He squinted at her and asked, "Should I be telling you this?"

"Absolutely." Hermione nodded while her brain raced to remember where known selkie pods were nearest to Galway. "You're a good friend, Theo, and I appreciate your help."

The bright smile returned to his face. "You're very welcome, Hermione." He lurched forward as if he'd been pushed from behind. "Um, if you'll excuse me. Did you have any other questions?"

Hermione frowned. "Is there something you aren't telling me?"

Theo emphatically shook his head. "No, no, not at all. Just very busy." He smiled weakly at her. "You know how it is."

"Sure," she said, drawing out the word. "Please take care of the shop while I'm gone, Theo. I'm trusting you with it."

"Virago is in good hands, I promise." He looked very sincere when he said it despite the faint blush still lingering on his cheeks. Hermione did trust him, even if he was acting a bit odd. "Owl me if you run into any trouble finding Draco."

Hermione nodded and tried not to be too worried when Theo quickly disappeared into the other room and shut the door. Maybe it was a pushy client or a ex-death eater that didn't want her knowing they were there. Some of them were still nervous to be around the old Gryffindor Golden Girl and preferred to get their tattoos done by Theo. She tried not to let it bruise her ego too much.

Plus, she had other problems to worry about. Portkeys to remote islands were not easy to come by, and apparating was out of the question. The possibility of flying didn't even cross her mind. As she left the shop, she was weighing her chances of getting a portkey from the Department of Magical Transportation and nearly ran into someone right outside the door.

She looked up to apologize and immediately scowled.

"Afternoon, Granger."

"What are you doing here, Zabini?"

Blaise smiled at her, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "I came to see you, of course. I heard you were looking for Draco."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "And who told you that?"

He shrugged easily. "Doesn't matter who told me. What does matter is that I can get you to Ireland."

"I don't need your help," she immediately replied. Accepting help from Blaise was at the absolute bottom of her to-do list. In fact, it was on her 'no way in hell' list. "I'll figure it out on my own, thanks."

Blaise tsked and shook his head. "Come now, Granger. We don't have time to waste on petty grudges, do we?"

Panic twisted in her gut once more. The fear she had been holding at bay reared its head, and she feared she might choke on it.

An emotion that could be mistaken as pity flashed through his eyes. "Consider it a favor, Granger. Nothing owed in return."

"I want to know how you expect to help me before I agree to anything," she said. Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.

"I have a cottage in Dublin. Well," he paused and rolled his eyes, "my mother does, but that's not the point. The point is, you can floo to the cottage then apparate to wherever Draco has run off to."

Hermione considered his words, bit down on her cheek as was habit and winced at the tender flesh she had bit through earlier. She needed to quit that happen.

Blaise misunderstood her pained expression and said, "You can go on your own, Granger. I won't follow you, and I'll trust you not to wreck the cottage while you're there. Consider it an olive branch, it's as close to an apology as I've ever given."

She didn't doubt that at all. Loath as she was to accept his offer, she had little time and even fewer options. "Okay," she agreed hesitantly, "no strings attached, and I go on my own."

He nodded in agreement and held out his hand. A small stone sat in his palm, its surface glittering green in the sunlight. "This is the portkey that will take you to the cottage." He waited for her to take it from him before he added, "The activation phrase is 'sempre puro'."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the blatantly pureblooded phrase. She didn't need to be fluent in Italian to guess what it meant. "I would say thank you, but I don't trust you."

"I'm not a faerie," Blaise said with a wicked grin, "but it is probably wise on your part to treat me like one. Until next time." He bowed dramatically and tipped an invisible hat to her.

She couldn't help but smile as she watched him walk away. How he and Draco had ever ended up as friends was a mystery to her. Looking down at the stone in her hand, Hermione finally felt a ray of hope break through the heavy dread still gripping her pained heart. Squeezing it tightly, and without a single bag or provision with her, Hermione whispered, "Sempre puro."