Author's Note:

As always, many, many heartfelt thanks to Laura for beta reading this chapter! :-*

And many thanks to all those who listen to my doubts and ramblings while trying to figure out the story... :-D

Chapter 9: A Bundle of Feathers

"Merlin, I still feel full," Astoria groaned when they arrived on their floor in the company after a lengthy business lunch with the Vice Minister of Magic. "So much to discuss, so much to eat."

"Yes, he does have a fondness for food," Draco replied. He felt similarly stuffed. The Vice Minister definitely liked to have his meetings to discuss economic regulations over a lunch involving several courses and a selection of desserts; it did provide a more relaxed atmosphere to discuss topics like regulations, though, and he suspected that the Vice Minister did it to get what he wanted from all parties involved. Astoria had come along today to replace Blaise who was away at a conference, which had turned out to be a good decision.

"Ugh." She sat down at her desk and sighed. "Does he do it always like this?"

Draco chuckled when she added a yawn. "Yes. All about the atmosphere." He opened the door to his office.

"Thank the gods we don't have to do that every day. I wouldn't be able to keep that figure!" She narrowed her eyes at him when he dared to raise an eyebrow in mock. "Neither would you," she added with a sigh. "I think I'm going to lie down on the couch in Blaise's office for an hour..."

"One hour, then I expect you to be back at your desk." With a brief grin, he watched her nod with a tired smile before getting up to walk down to Blaise's office. When she disappeared from the floor, he finally stepped into his own office.

Once inside, he noticed a package on his desk that wasn't there when he had left for the lunch. After putting his coat away, he started investigating the package without touching it. There was only his name on it, but no sender was mentioned on the simple brown wrapping paper. If he learned something from the years after the Second War, it was that anonymous packages shouldn't be taken lightly—after all, he had received more than his fair share of hate mail from people who were unhappy about the second chance he had been given, ranging from simple howlers to more dangerous anonymous gifts wrapped in similar brown paper. This was no different. With a sigh, he opened a line to Blaise's office on their internal communication device. "Astoria? I need you back in my office."

A few seconds later, Astoria finally responded. "You said an hour. It hasn't even been five minutes," she said with an audible yawn.

"Come up here, please," he replied, trying to stifle a yawn himself as the usual sleepy low after such a lunch finally caught up with him. "Someone placed a package in my office. No sender whatsoever."

"WHAT? Did you open it?"

"That's why I want you up here." He could hear her sigh, feeling slightly guilty for robbing her of the promised nap time. But he didn't want to open the package alone in case it contained something dangerous that he needed help with, nor did he want to have it sit on his desk for another hour until Astoria would be back anyway. Maybe he should let her go earlier instead...

"What package?" Astoria asked when she finally stepped through his office door, sounding irritated. "Is someone complaining about your past again?" she said once she spotted the package on his desk; she started investigating the package closely—a Revealing Spell included, but it didn't indicate anything. "I think it's safe enough to open it."

With a nod he beckoned her to proceed as she had her wand out already; with concerned curiosity, he watched her carefully slice the brown wrapping paper to unveil a card box that slowly opened itself. At first, he only saw a bundle of feathers, but when he stepped closer, he recognised what it was with a loud gasp. "Maude! They killed Maude!"

"Maude?"

"The owl!" All of a sudden, Draco was fully alert. Someone had caught and killed Maude, the owl he and Theo had used to send messages. He had considered her his pet owl, always happy to treat her a bit when she had delivered a message. And now they killed her! He knew there would be consequences and casualties, but he was still shocked that they had killed his favourite owl.

"Draco? What is it?" she asked, her brows furrowed in question, pointing at the dead owl in the box. "Is this about your involvement with the Aurors?"

He nodded. "Yes. They knew exactly which owl to take–"

"DRACO!" Astoria exploded. "They know how to reach you! We told you not to get involved because it is dangerous, and now look! You received a death threat!"

"It's not the first one I received–"

She hit him on the shoulder in response. "No. Just no. You are risking everything now. I can't... No!"

"Stop it, Astoria!" he replied irritated, rubbing his shoulder briefly. "Do you know what that means? We have one of them in the company. Entrance to my office is restricted..."

"Even worse!"

"And secondly," Draco continued, ignoring her angry retort, "I really haven't done much yet, except for going through files and visit a shop as a customer! You know I'm not that easily deterred–"

"Oh, how I know!" she retorted, throwing her head back in frustration. "You have no idea how much I hate it that you so easily risk everything, just because you can't let go!"

"I know the risks I am taking. I'm the one carrying the burden of responsibility for this company with my name and fortune! Not you!"

"It doesn't give you the right to risk all our lives, just because your ex has gone missing! Draco, you haven't spoken to her in eight years," Astoria continued, infuriated by his reply. "You really need to let go, it's not healthy anymore–"

Draco growled. "Out."

"No."

"Take the afternoon off, for all I care. But I'm not going to discuss my inability to let go with you. You're not in my shoes; you have no bloody clue how hard it really was to get through the last eight years. I want answers, and I'll get them. Now, OUT!"

"I was there the whole time, for Merlin's sake! I've seen you at your worst, so, don't tell me I don't know how hard it was!"

"Oh no, you don't! You in your happy marriage with Blaise; you have no idea how much it really hurts to lose someone you love, how much it really shatters you to pieces. It fucking hurts seeing you and Blaise every single day, knowing that I could have had the same with her. Don't you dare tell me you know how hard it is to keep going when you have no reason to." Draco took a deep breath to keep some of his control, or he would hex this infuriating and overbearing witch in front of him who had the audacity to believe she knew what he had been through. "I'm NOT going to let this chance go. Oh no!"

"Draco! For fuck's sake, you can't be serious!" she shouted, her hands stemmed on her hips, staring him down. "THIS is your life's work! You can't just risk everything because of–"

"OUT!" Draco closed in, forcing her to take a step back; the few objects on the desk started to shake. "I know what I do." He growled when she attempted to say something in response.

"Calm down, please," Astoria said, sounding more concerned than angry, when she noticed the shaking objects. "You know what happens if you don't."

"Out," he repeated, closing in on her once more, thus slowly forcing her backwards out of his office.

"Just wait until Blaise is back from the conference. This has consequences, my dear," she said, once outside, meeting his furious stance with an equally enraged stare. Huffing loudly in contempt, she Summoned her things and then turned around to storm off. "Don't even expect me to come in tomorrow."

"Hey," Theo greeted when he saw Draco arrive in the Auror Department in the early evening, which was busy with preparation. "I got your message, but I'm afraid I can't make it tonight. Potter just informed us that we're going to raid another place."

Draco nodded and placed a shrunken package on Theo's desk. "They killed Maude."

"What?" Theo immediately re-sized the package and opened it. "Gods, no! She was my favourite owl!" he let out in shocked disbelief when he saw the dead owl inside the box.

"I liked her too," Draco admitted. "Astoria freaked out about it, though."

Theo smiled faintly, closing the box again. "This is a threat, after all. They can reach you."

"I know. But how would they know about my involvement? I didn't exactly go public with it."

"Only the Auror Department and your friends know about it. But there is definitely something off. I started paying closer attention after your remark during the interrogation two days ago. Files are changed, information disappeared."

"Any idea?"

Theo let his eyes roam over the Aurors present in the main room, resting for the briefest of moments on Riverside who was getting ready on the other side of the room. "Yes, I have, but I might know more after the raid..."

"Malfoy! What are you doing here?" Harry said in surprise, coming over to Theo's desk when he saw the visitor. "You see that we are a bit busy right now."

"And yet, you forgot to inform me once more, Potter," Draco replied with a sneer, but otherwise unmoved. "However, you might be interested in the fact that I received this." He pushed the box with the dead owl towards Harry.

"A threat."

"Someone in your team doesn't like me being involved."

Harry eyed him sceptically, then switched to the box. "You do know what you are implying, right? A saboteur in my rows..." He shook his head in disbelief, and then let out a deep sigh. "Okay, we'll deal with it after the raid because we leave in five minutes." He nodded at Theo as a sign to get ready, then returned his focus to Draco. "And before you ask—no, I can't allow for you to come along. Rules are rules."

"Astoria would kill me without any hesitation if you let me," Draco replied with a bitter sounding chuckle. Their argument was still lingering in the back of his mind, as well as his breakdown moments after she had left. His office had looked like a mess from the discharge of magic; only when Daphne asked if she could come by with a question did he actually clean it up. In addition, he wasn't looking forward to discussing the situation with Blaise as soon as he had returned from the conference. "Did Barsky give you some valuable information then?"

Harry nodded. "A few names, a couple of places." He turned to face Nott who was still standing next to them. "Get ready or stay behind, Nott! I need every man this time..."

With a smirk, Draco watched Nott collect his wand and his spell-protection vest, besides whatever else Aurors brought along to a raid, then returned his attention to Harry once more. "Would you mind letting me have a word with Barsky since you won't allow for me to come along?"

Harry stared at him for a long second, the slow chewing motion showing that he was mulling over it. "He's in isolation for security reasons, plus you wouldn't get anything out of him anyway."

"I take that as a yes, then,"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't say no either."

Harry rolled his eyes at this response, and then pushed his glasses back up. "Fifteen years and I still hate how you Slytherins turn every word in my mouth."

"Yes, we know, Gryffindors are more about face value and everything."

Harry briefly narrowed his eyes at Draco, but then relaxed again. "Well, since you're a part of the investigation team, I won't stop you from talking to Barsky, but you better behave."

"Oh, I always do," Draco countered, raising his eyebrow, thus earning himself a low groan from Harry. "I promise, Potter. I know how to deal with people—if I want to."

"Good. See you later." Harry nodded once, and then went over to his office to collect his gear before joining the others, leaving Draco alone in the main room of the Department.

. .

A short while after—a detour to the cafeteria on the top floor included—Draco was waiting for the security guard to open the door to Barsky's cell, two paper cups of coffee in his hands.

"If anything happens to the suspect while you're in there, you will be made responsible for it," the guard said while pulling the cell door open, warily eyeing Draco. "Order from the boss."

"I get it," Draco replied impatiently. "I have his permission." That was stretching the truth somewhat as Potter hadn't explicitly given him the permission, just that he wouldn't stop him from it. But then, he really didn't say no either. "Wouldn't be the first thing they try to pin on me either," he added with a short sneer.

"Three knocks if you want to leave again," the guard instructed as the door was finally open wide enough for Draco to enter.

Draco nodded and stepped inside to meet a rather confused Barsky, who immediately sat up from his cot. However, he waited until the guard had closed the cell door again before he started speaking, preferring the conversation to be as private as it could be. "I don't think we have met before–"

"Mr Malfoy, I presume? Your fame precedes you," Barsky said, eying him sceptically. "What gives the honour?"

Draco quickly scanned the room, but there was no other seating option other than the cot already occupied by Barsky. With a faint, but what he hoped to be a friendly smile, he handed one of the cups to Barsky. "The good stuff from the cafeteria."

Reluctantly, Barsky accepted the cup, and finally moved to one end of the cot to let Draco sit as well. "So, you haven't answered my question, Mr Malfoy. What brings you here?"

"You could help me." Draco sat down, careful to leave enough space between him and Barsky.

"Help you?" Barsky chuckled, then took a first sip from his cup. "Yes, the good stuff indeed. Did you bribe Potter to let you in here?"

"Potter isn't the type to take bribes," Draco replied. "Too much of an honourable Gryffindor." Draco took his first sip of his coffee as well, enjoying the slightly bitter taste on his tongue. "I offered to help them find one of their own, as you know by now."

Barsky nodded, taking another sip. "Yes, that Hermione Granger, the Golden Girl..." He shrugged dismissively when he took the cup down again, tapping against its sides. "But I told them everything I know."

"I don't believe you did. You told them what they needed to know, but nothing more."

"So they now send you in to get the rest?"

Draco chuckled, shaking his head briefly., "No. I'm here on my own."

"But you still think I'll tell you everything?" Barsky briefly raised his eyebrow, then took another sip from his coffee. "I told them the truth when I said that I'm only a small wheel in the whole organisation."

"Yet, you still know more than you told them."

Barsky said nothing in response, just stared at him for a long moment, squinting his eyes in what looked like an attempt to remember a detail. "Now I get it," he eventually said. "You're here out of personal reasons. Of course... You and Granger were a couple. I remember my wife talking at length about your separation when it was in the papers."

Draco simply nodded as an acknowledgement. "A long time ago. We haven't spoken in years–"

"And yet, here you are, helping in the search for her." Barsky chuckled, and then emptied his cup.

Draco didn't respond to this; he didn't have to explain himself to everyone remotely involved in this case. "I heard you mention an organisation during your interrogation," he then said, noticing the quickening tapping of Barsky's fingers in response. "What do you really know about them?"

"Nothing that I haven't already told Potter and his friend. You can surely read up the protocol," Barsky replied. "Might even be faster."

"Not for what I want to know. And I usually get what I want."

"Malfoys always do, don't they? Though didn't exactly work out for your father, right?"

Draco noticed the bitter tone in Barsky's voice; he was simply trying to lash out in despair. "Tell me what you know about this organisation," he said, deciding to ignore Barsky's comment. This was neither the time nor the place to discuss his father's life sentence in Azkaban.

Barsky shook his head. "I've told them enough. But thanks for the coffee."

Having learned to negotiate with business partners to get the most of it for his company, Draco knew when patience was the better approach to what he wanted, despite the slowly growing urge to just push Barsky into the nearest wall for refusing to give him the desired information. He decided to change the tactic, maybe a little reminder would help. "Have you heard from your family?" he asked, watching the smile fade from Barsky's face while he shook his head.

"They are probably already dead," Barsky whispered, still staring at Draco with wide eyes.

Draco realised he had hit the crack in Barsky's defence, something worth pushing further into. "I doubt that–"

"Drawing from your own experience?" Barsky retorted bitterly. "They aren't Death Eaters who keep people alive and prisoner to punish others. They just dispose of traitors."

With the Death Eaters mentioned, Draco was briefly reminded of the days he had been used as a pawn to keep his parents under control. That feeling of helplessness had been the one he took the longest to get over it, mostly with the help of Hermione. He took a deep breath to get out of the memory. "Is your son really innocent? He doesn't know what's really going on in the shop?" he asked, keeping his tone calm but interested.

Barsky shook his head once more. "My wife knew about my affiliation with The Organisation, but we kept it from our son, knowing how dangerous they could be. He just worked in the shop to earn some money for a trip to Bulgaria before starting his apprenticeship."

Draco emptied his cup of coffee, and put it on the floor while he watched Barsky playing with his empty cup. "Knowing Potter, I don't think you'll walk free for a long while because you helped to get his best friend kidnapped," he said after a few more silent seconds, "but there might be a chance for your family to get out of this story alive."

Barsky let out a bitter laugh. "You really don't understand how they treat traitors, do you? I'm a dead man; I'm not even safe in here."

"I have my means, Mr Barsky."

"Are you proposing a deal?" Barsky straightened up, glancing at Draco in a mixture of confusion and scepticism. "Or are you just playing with me?"

"I'm a businessman, I don't play with people." Draco straightened his back, noticing how uncomfortable and low this cot was to sit on. "But you have something I want, and I can offer something you need in return."

"You're a fool. No one willingly works against them."

"I survived having a madman in my home, Mr Barsky. I know what atrocities people are capable of."

"That madman has nothing on them," Barsky replied, not hiding his cynicism any longer. "But I still want my family as safe as they can be," he added with a sigh.

Draco could see the conflict run over Barsky's face; it seemed that he was more loyal to his family than the ominous organisation. "We seem to have a deal, then," he said when Barsky's face settled on a stony, rather resigned expression.

Barsky nodded, and then leaned back with a sigh. "I've never met Ms Granger in person, she must have come to the shop when I had a week off to attend a wedding; they are always big affairs in my wife's family–"

"How does it work?" Draco cut him off sharply. "You get the information that your current customer is a half-Creature, and then?"

"We collect their status as well as their magical signatures; that's what I send forward, sometimes with the note that it might be an interesting Creature for the pits–"

"Pits?"

Barsky nodded. "All I honestly know is that they want them to fight to the death for the entertainment of the ugly rich—like you are. Seems that your friend knew too much about that and they wanted her out of the way." He shrugged.

"She was investigating the disappearances, yes." Draco frowned when the idea flitted through his mind that Hermione might already be dead; his heart cramped painfully for a second before he was able to shake the frightening idea out of his mind. No, if she was dead, they would have left her body in a place where she would have been found. And deep inside him, he knew that she was still alive. "Tell me more about the fight pits. How do you find them?"

"I'm surprised that you have to ask, Mr Malfoy. Your family is still one of the richest around."

"We had other interests. Now, tell me, how do you find them?"

"They are invitation only. Another member has to recommend you, but they might make an exception in your case, knowing your net worth." Barsky sat up, raking through his hair to keep it out of his face. "A bit of paper and a quill, and I'll write down who you can contact to get in. I rather not mention the name out loud in fear that others might listen and decide I said too much."

Still in possession of his wand, Draco transfigured a wrapper he found in his coat pocket into a small piece of parchment, then handed it together with his fountain pen to Barsky who immediately started to scribble down a name and what looked like additional information.

"One small piece of advice, Mr Malfoy, be careful. Be very careful. They will stop at nothing if you get in their way. You might end up losing more than you are prepared to give."

"Been there–"

"Not like that." Shaking his head, Barksy handed the note and the pen back to Draco. "But I do hope you succeed in your mission. And do tell my wife that I love her, that I only ever wanted the best for my family."

"Why did you join them in the first place?"

Barsky shrugged. "I was in a bad situation and they promised a way out. However, once you join them, there's no way out, except death. I try to do what they ask of me, but I try to keep my son out of it."

"Honourable," Draco said, stretching his legs; the cot was at a very uncomfortable height for him to sit, so his legs were slightly cramping. But he had an idea where he could bring Barsky's family—as a member of the Malfoy family, he had a list of buildings at his disposal; the location of some only known to him as the acting Head of the family. As he was already preparing one of them for the moment they find Hermione, it shouldn't be too much off an additional effort to have another prepared. After all, his house elves weren't of the asking kind.

"Thanks," Barsky said, half whispering to himself when Draco knocked three times on the cell door to be let out again; he lay back down on his cot to simply wait for his executioner as it seemed.

. .

When Draco came back up to the Auror Department, he was surprised to find that Harry was already back from his raid; he was taking out his rage verbally on any Auror who dared to be in his vicinity. "What happened?" Draco asked.

"It was an empty factory hall, that's what happened!" Harry shot at him, looking as if he was going to hex him any second. "Barsky gave us the wrong information–"

"Potter!" Draco made a step towards the still seething Head Auror. "He didn't give you the wrong information, he's not manipulative enough."

"Oh, I forgot you're an expert in that field."

"Careful now." They were now facing each other, though Draco once more used his height advantage on Potter. The Head Auror still had nothing on Astoria, who was one hell of a terrifying witch if enraged.

"Harry!" Both men turned around to see Ginny stand in the entrance to the main room, dressed in figure-hugging blue jumpsuit; she had her hands stemmed into her hips, clearly glaring at her husband. "Here you are!" With loud steps, she came closer. "Why are you trying to have a shouting contest with Malfoy? What's he even doing here?"

"Long time no see, Mrs Potter," Draco greeted her with a brief smirk. "I help out."

Ginny's expression softened momentarily towards him. "I'm sorry, Draco. Long time no see, indeed. But my husband here has forgotten that we were invited to a dinner with my parents, and he agreed to show up."

"I'm sorry I forgot," Harry finally said, taking a deep breath to come down from his bout of temper, but ducking slightly from Ginny's disapproving glare. "But we thought we had a good lead on Hermione's whereabouts–"

"And you couldn't let me know?" she retorted with a sigh. "I know you do everything to find her again, she's the best friend of all of us, and we all hope that she comes back alive and mostly uninjured, sweetheart. I know how important this is for you, okay? But just for one evening, put your family first. You have enough Aurors who could take over for one evening..."

Harry motioned in for an embrace with his wife. "I'm really sorry," he said with an appeasing tone, even pressing a gentle kiss on her cheek.

She let out another heavy sigh, but then returned the embrace. "It's okay for this time, it's Hermione after all. We all miss her, especially the children. I just wish you had let me know; you know how Mum can be some days."

Ginny was still the same force of nature Draco remembered—strong-headed, but with a big heart. These days, she wrote for the sports section in the Daily Prophet, with a regular column on events in the Quidditch league. The most refreshing read in the paper whenever he came across it. "Do you mind if I have a short talk with Harry before you leave?" he asked after waiting for a few more seconds in silence. "Won't take long, I promise."

Ginny glanced at him, then nodded before slowly letting go of Harry. "The faster you finish, the faster we can leave."

"What do you want to talk about, Malfoy?" Harry asked after breaking up the embrace with Ginny, pushing his glasses back up.

"Not here, Potter. Don't take it personally, but I don't really trust your people at the moment," Draco replied, nodding towards Harry's office; he earned himself a load of muttered swear words and few louder protests from the present Aurors with his remark. Only Theo a few desks away smirked, knowing what he had been hinting at. "Ginny, it was a pleasure seeing you again. Say hello to the rest from me."

She nodded, a soft smile on her lips. "I will."

"You heard my wife, the faster we finish this, the faster I can start making amends to her," Harry said grumbling while leading the few steps to his office. "And it better be good what you want to discuss."

"Oh, you're going to love it."

TBC