It was the next morning, and Hermione was standing outside of her boss' office, a sheaf of notes clutched to her chest, trying to level out her nervous breathing.
Harry and her had left Olney's and gone back to her small flat to hash out the details of the current plan now that Harry knew she was onboard. That hadn't lasted long however, because as soon as he had laid out what had been decided between Nott and Worthton she had burst out in bitter laughter, absolutely indignant that either man had expected her to go along with such a twisted request.
The door finally swung open on silent hinges, causing her to start slightly. She followed the widening space as it revealed Theodore Nott, sitting behind his large ornate wood desk, calmly penning notes into the margins of that week's reports.
"You wanted to see me, Ms. Granger?" His voice was as smooth as ever, invoking the feeling of cool morning air in Hermione like it always did.
"Oh um, yes, sir. It's about—"
"Step in and close the door, please." He intoned, finally looking up at her and furrowing his brow at the sight of her frozen in the doorway.
"Oh right, of course. Sorry." Hermione muttered this abashedly as she hurried across the threshold and carefully closed the door behind her. She turned back to Nott and he had extended a hand, gesturing to the two chairs facing him from the other side of the desk. She crossed the last of the space between them and sat down, smoothing her slacks and setting her notes on the other chair.
"Yes, Ms. Granger, I am aware this is about Malfoy's…. Condition, and your acceptance of the related assignment." He inclined his head to her in a gesture she rarely saw from him; respect and thanks.
"Actually, I haven't formally accepted yet and there are a few things I'd like to discuss before I do."
"Oh," Nott's eyebrows twitched upwards in surprise, clearly not expecting her to have come to negotiate — after all, she'd just spent over a year doing everything and anything he asked of her, eager to prove that her position was given on merit, and not on the virtue of her name.
"Well, I guess we better get into it, then."
"Yes sir," Hermione returned to her small stack of papers and picked them up, skimming some of what she had written before squaring her shoulders and returning her gaze to Nott in a manner that he thought rather made her look like someone about to go into battle.
"Firstly, Harry said that if I took this assignment the expectation would be for me to be moved to Malfoy manor so that I could observe Malfoy day and night, yes?"
Nott inclined his head to her in affirmation.
"That doesn't work for me. I would like us to be moved somewhere else; a ministry safe house, perhaps?"
Nott regarded her levely, hands folding together as Hermione felt that gaze as though it was trying to worm its way beneath her skin. She tensed her legs together to keep from shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
"Ms. Granger, I can understand why you may feel this way but—"
"Sorry sir, but I don't think you can."
Both of them were lightly shocked at her interruption, Hermione having stunned herself with the steel that had suddenly entered her voice.
"Draco told me what happened in the dining room. He told me what you went through at the manor."
Hermione's jaw clenched, her teeth grinding slightly as she regarded him now, the heat of anger flaring in her gaze as he revealed what he'd known all along. She'd been careful to keep that wound close after the war had ended, never revealing it in interviews and asking the same of her friends. As far as she had known the only other people who knew were mostly dead or locked in Azkaban, but she hadn't counted on Malfoy willingly recounting that day to anyone.
"If that is true then you know why I am refusing. I can do my work just as well in a safe house, or another location."
"Unfortunately that isn't possible. The Malfoy's have one of the most extensive collections of written materials on dark magic that we know of, and they are bound to the grounds of the estate. They cannot cross the threshold beyond the gates or they will crumble into dust. On top of this, there is a measure of security and secrecy provided by the wards tied to the Malfoy bloodline that is old blood magic — not something the ministry could match at any safe house we could provide. The mansion is equipped now with a full medical suite, and its own self contained staff that are bound by the secrecy of the wards."
Hermione was glowering at him now, the cogs working within her mind to try and find holes to punch and points to argue. But Nott was not finished.
"And most importantly, Ms. Granger — " He paused, capturing her gaze fully and holding it as he spoke his next words with emotions swimming below the surface that Hermione was alarmed to hear from the normally meticulously composed man.
"We aren't sure how much time Draco may have, and every moment spent setting up a new accommodation would subtract from his already ticking clock. As your superior I will understand and would never penalize you if you were to say no to this arrangement. We all have our… scars from the war, yours obviously deeper than most. But as a man whose friend is in pain, who is dying, I hope that the strength and integrity you display during those years hasn't waned during peacetime."
Hermione thought that perhaps this was as close as Theodore Nott had ever come to begging, his words chosen carefully but his tone betraying a thread of need that caused a lump to form in her throat. Here was someone who was unable to be there for a friend in the way they wanted, left at the mercy of another's whim. She knew what it was like to be frustrated by helplessness more than she liked to think about, and so she felt her resolve crumble under his stiff plea.
"If I am going to live at the manor for any length of time I want my own things transferred over to a room there from my flat. And I will want the… the room, that dining room, sealed off for the entire duration of this assignment."
"Done. I will have those requests relayed to the staff." The relief was evident in the relaxing of Nott's brow and the release of tension at his mouth.
"And I want it to be made clear to Malfoy that I may sever this arrangement at the first sign of disrespect from him. This is an assignment I am taking on as a professional Curse Breaker at a not small personal cost. I'm not a servant he will be able to order around, and one whisper of the word 'mudblood' and I will walk right out—"
Her voice had been rising into anger once again when Nott cut her off.
"Understood. Though I believe you may find Draco changed from the boy you remember back in our school days, Ms. Granger. The Order and its allies weren't the only ones who suffered losses and wounds when he-who-must-not-be-named returned."
Hermione's lips pursed into a thin line, and she stood suddenly, papers clutched to her chest.
"His name was Voldemort." She hissed, the venom in her voice feeling like it burned her as the name left her lips. "May I go?"
Something she couldn't identify sparked behind Nott's eyes and he gestured towards the door, which once again swung open soundlessly at his behest.
"Potter and I will come collect you in a few hours at eleven; use that time to gather any supplies you think you may need from the department stores. You are cleared to request anything you may ask for."
"Understood. I'll be ready by eleven."
She was almost all the way to the door, and if she didn't have that bit of extra awareness that came from being so on edge Hermione wasn't sure if she would have heard the quiet parting response that Nott spoke only to her back. But she did, and those words stayed with her as she strode down the hall towards the requisition rooms with renewed purpose, turning the emotion behind them over in her head.
"Thank you, Granger. Thank you."
Hermione paced her office, feeling like a creature had been writhing and bucking wildly in her stomach. She only has a few more minutes until Eleven o'clock, until she would begin what may end up being one of the most important missions of her career — and until she would face a man she hadn't seen in person since they both faced each other across the Hogwarts courtyard, littered with bodies and debris.
Though the gossip columns seemed to do their best to track Malfoy across wizarding society, they rarely seemed to be able to steal a photo of the elusive man. In fact, now that she thought about it, most of the reporting on him seemed to be vague, after the fact impressions that only offered surface glimpses into his goings-on… Photos often from behind or blurred side profiles, never clear close-ups of his face.
It hit her all at once; had Malfoy even been there for any of those events the Prophet reported on? Or was this how the ministry had been giving him an alibi for every mission, every raid?
Before she could fully comprehend how far the deceptions here may have spread there was a soft knock on her door, which caused her to jolt and let out a strangled noise of surprise.
"It's just me, Hermione. I hope you don't mind that I'm a bit early." Harry's muffled voice called through the wood.
Hermione let loose the breath she'd been holding and strode over to the door, flinging it open to reveal Harry on the other side. When he saw the stress painting her features, the same that had colored his when he had explained the expectations to her last night, he immediately stepped forward into her space and took her shoulders in his warm grip.
"I heard that you weren't able to.. to change the conditions of the assignment." He said quietly, gazing down at her with stark concern. "Are you sure that you are going to be alright? This is important, and I do think you'll find a different bloke than you're expecting when it comes to Malfoy but… if you don't think you can handle this, I'll understand."
She meets Harry's gaze and falls back into her instinctive need to want to be as good as he always thinks she is. Her own opinion on what type of person she is has blurred edges, not as defined as she knew the world thought they were — but she wanted to be that person: Hermione Granger, heroine of the Golden Trio. The woman that would alway choose to save the world, no matter the cost.
"I'll be fine, Harry. I… I can do this. And as you said, you can't trust anyone else to go. I told Nott that I'll walk if Malfoy so much as thinks that vile slur in my direction though; maybe I should spend some of my time there studying occlumency just in case?"
Her awkward joke brought the smallest of smiles to Harry's lips as he gave her arms one last comforting rub and stepped back, giving her a final once over.
"Remember what else I said, 'Mione. You're brilliant — I'm sure with that brain of yours this will all be over by this time next week, yeah?"
Hermione snorted bitterly at this, gaze dropping to the floor. Harry looked like he was about to follow this up with another comment, but a staccato rapping on her door frame broke apart their conversation. They both turn and take in Nott standing in the doorway in his ever-crisp navy blue robes, his eyes centered only on Hermione.
"It's time. Ms. Granger, Potter — follow me, if you would?"
This is all he says before he turns on his heel and strides back in the direction of his office. Harry and Hermione share one last, long look before they follow in the wake of Nott's commanding presence.
Once they are standing in front of the floo in Nott's office, his door closed, he once again captures the pair's attention.
"I've had my floo connected to one in the manor just for a short period of time. Potter, you go first — Hermione will follow directly and I'll go last. Everyone ready?"
Hermione felt like she couldn't speak past the sudden growing lump in her throat, so she merely nodded. Nott held out a small pot of floo powder to both her and Harry before taking a pinch himself and returning it to the mantle.
"Potter."
Harry stepped forward, casting his powder into the flames which flared that familiar acidic green. He stepped into the floo and after giving her a grim attempt at a reassuring smile, he intoned 'Malfoy Manor' firmly and was whisked away in a whirl.
Next up, Hermione closed the distance and cast her pinch into the just settled fire, bringing back the writhing green. She entered the floo, this time not even feeling the tingling warmth through the ice that currently flowed in her veins. Wanting nothing more than to get this over with she gasped out her destination;
"M-Malfoy Mano-eagh!"
Whether it was her tornado of negative energy or her own reservations about where she was going to end up, Hermione could feel the very second that something went horribly wrong. Instead of it's usual brisk but manageable suction, the floo ripped her off her feet and hurtled her into the vortex of travel much faster than she was used to in her experience. Fear coursed through her as something banged sharply into her hip, drawing a yelp from her that turned into a coughing fit as her mouth filled with ash.
She spun and spun for what felt like an eternity before finally a dark, gaping fireplace exit came up on her so fast that she flung her arms up to shield her head and face. She was ejected so violently from the floo network that she went skidding across a cold hardwood floor until she slammed back-first into the wall opposite the mantle. Pain burst through her and she managed only a weak croak from her soot-lined throat before everything in her world went black.