Hermione looked between the board and Malfoy several times, unable to believe he had won. Then she began to laugh. "Do you know how long it's been since someone beat me in chess?" She asked laughing. "Years, Malfoy. Centuries, eons, and you beat me with a simple Blackburne-Shilling Gambit?" She laughed all the harder.

Draco smiled and watched her laugh. He glanced over and noticed for the first time that the decanter and snack he had asked for had been brought by Floppy and he hadn't noticed them. With a wave of his wand, he cleared the table of the chessboard and placed the food in its place. Hermione wiped her eyes and, still giggling, asked, "Where did you learn to play?"

"My father," He answered, choosing to ignore the twist of pain in his chest at mentioning… He poured a finger of whiskey. When he caught her watching him, he offered her a glass. She shook her head and he pretended to believe she wasn't trying to figure him out. He would not- could not- become curious about her. He had to make her uninterested in him as well. That feeling of reciprocation in conversation would be all too easy to fall into.

Hermione was having a similar realization and her smile faded from her face. She cleared her throat. "Back to what we were discussing, is there anything you can tell me about his plans? Does he just want all the power or is there a greater goal than that in his mind? Obviously I mean aside from the eradication of people like me."

"That seems to be all. Though recently, I did overhear an extremely interesting bit of information. He has a daughter." He took a drink while he watched her reaction.

Hermione sat bolt upright in her chair. "With which body?" she demanded.

Interesting. "I don't know. I would imagine it's with the... Previous one, I suppose you could say."

Hermione's mind was racing. The child might be a pressure point, but what mattered to her more was the possibility that the child might be an indicator of whether Harry's body was just a suit for the spirit of Voldemort to inhabit or if the boy she had loved as a brother could possibly be still alive. Possibly. Or was it not? Hermione couldn't decide.

She did know that he was probably inhabiting the dying body of Harry. If he had a wound that his followers couldn't talk about, it seemed logical that he was at the very least weakened by the state of his body. The fact that the Harry-Voldemort hybrid could still use the Elder wand was quite telling. Perhaps their magical cores had merged… she would have to think about how to figure that bit out. She had a hunch that the body was in the process of dying and that Harry was in there somewhere, in agony as his body continued to move while it was simultaneously dying. What a horrifying thought. She shuddered.

Draco took another drink and bit into a small sandwich that Floppy had brought. He watched Hermione think. The bags under her eyes he had noticed when she first arrived were shrinking already. Floppy had informed him that her physical wounds were healed. So that only left… of course.

How could he have been so stupid? She was shellshocked from her days on the run. That certainly explained her tense and watchful behavior.

He ran through her actions and suspected something was causing her a huge amount of stress, at the very least. Could he ease that somehow? He didn't think she would be as effective at figuring all this out if she was stressed. Perhaps some music or… a painting to talk to? Something. He shouldn't be so attached. She was just so… not herself. He didn't know how to understand her much less this 'mostly her' shell. He couldn't help himself from watching her and assessing her. It was a similar habit he had toward an enemy but… not at the same time. Gods, she was confusing. Maybe he needed to ignore her more. She shouldn't be this interesting to him.

"Eat, Granger." He said when he noticed her eyes tightening again and a shiver run through her. Well, my plan to ignore her is going swimmingly.

She looked at him, startled out of her thoughts. "What?"

"Eat. You're half starved." He said again in a way that didn't come off as caring, he hoped. She looked from his face to the tray of sandwiches. Frowned. "Floppy," She called.

The little elf appeared with a smile. "Yes Miss?"

"Could I have some more of that soup from my first night here?"

"Of course Miss! Bread and honey too?"

Hermione nodded with a smile to the elf. "Thanks Floppy." Hermione said.

Floppy disappeared. Hermione looked at Malfoy and said, "There. Satisfied?"

Draco smirked and chose not to make another inappropriate joke. "Now then. What else do you need to know about Him?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Everything. But let's go off what we have."

"Well, the scar is gone." Draco said after a moment of reflection.

"Harry's scar? On his forehead?"

Draco nodded but couldn't elaborate.

"Any idea if any of his other scars are missing?"

Draco shook his head.

"Is he… he's not rotting is he?"

Draco had been taking a sip of his whiskey and snorted a laugh. With a shake of his head and raised eyebrows, he answered, "No," without looking at her.

Floppy dropped off the soup, bread, and honey along with some water. Hermione thanked her and she began to eat.

Hermione thought for a moment as she ate. Not allowing herself the luxury of thinking too deeply about Malfoy was easier than she would have thought. The information he had was fascinating. She was fairly confident in believing Harry's body was weak and Voldemort couldn't keep it alive forever. How could she ascertain how much the body was weakened? "Do you see him do much magic?" She asked between bites.

Draco had been staring at the fire, lost in thought. Her voice pulled him back. "Not much. He's always made others do most magic, except killing and torturing. Now that you mention it… it does seem like he uses it for fewer mundane tasks now. Though that might be a biased opinion."

She nodded, making that thoughtful noise in the back of her throat again. "Interesting," She muttered. Tapping her fingernails on the table between them, she thought for a second. Then she said, "Would it be more accurate to say he is weaker magically or that he doesn't use it as often?" He frowned, so she clarified, "What I mean is, would you say he doesn't use magic because it's difficult for him? Or does it seem more like he's making others do magic for him as a power play?"

Draco made his own thoughtful noise in the back of his throat once he understood her meaning. "Well, now." He said after a moment. "Weakness is a possibility. He stares at his wand a lot when he thinks. He also won't let anyone touch-" Draco's throat closed. He took a gasping breath and changed his mind on his next words. "-his person." He finished in also tight voice.

Hermione had seen it. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Anything else?" She asked. She thought about the wand for a moment. Thinking about its allegiance and wondering if it was working well for him. After all, the Elder wand was notoriously unloyal. Hadn't she realized that from the Tales of Beedle the Bard? Malfoy wouldn't know that the Elder wand was real, much less had been in his presence every day for the past seven years. That was definitely something to keep from him.

Draco answered, "His toys are not to be touched. That includes his victims as well as his followers. Strict rules are in place to keep vendettas from occurring due to grievances. That's not changed, but probably not something you knew." She nodded and waited, knowing with a glance at his face that there was more. "He's… more vicious. Now, I mean." Draco's discomfort began to show. "His 'entertainment' always leaned toward the disgusting but now... " He made a face. "It's repulsive to even most of the Death Eaters. Sometimes he goes too far."

He's got little to no humanity left. Probably down to none at this point. Too many horcruxes. Could he have made more? "But does he have plans or is someone else putting in the orders? I must know."

Draco sat back in his chair, not realizing until then that he had sat forward in a telling posture. He tented his fingers under his chin and thought, trying to find a way around secrecy spells lighting his skin on fire. "I think he has broad plans but someone else is making the minor decisions. He used to be a… he used to make all the decisions but now it's…" Draco ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "I can't tell you who."

Hermione frowned in her own frustration. These secrecy spells were something. "When did all of this become secret? Was it always so hard to talk about all this?"

Draco nodded and looked into his glass. "When my father…" He tried to find the words. Not because of the many secrecy spells cast on him, but more so she wouldn't know more about his father than she needed to know. "When my father was a Death Eater, before I became one, mind, he could barely discuss any plans or even events he had witnessed. I'm surprised that I've been able to tell you as much as I have, to be sure."

Hermione put the spoon down and looked away from his face, only realizing then that she had been watching his every move. Her gaze settled on the fire and she went through the information he had just told her. She was increasingly convinced that Harry/Voldemort was- for some reason- weaker magically than either had been while separate. Whether it was the Elder wand being forced to do magic it disliked or if the magical core of the hybrid wasn't strong enough to maintain the level of spells required to run his empire was an important distinction. But how could she figure out which one it was? Hermione was not sure. She needed time to think it through.

His left arm twitched and he grimaced. "Great." He muttered. "Duty calls."

Hermione took another sip of her soup and watched him stand. "I have more questions," she said without emotion.

He smirked, "Have you ever run out?" She gave him a dirty look and he adjusted his tie. "I'll be back soon enough, we'll play again."

Maybe next time he would work up the nerve to ask her what she had been doing that had brought her back to England. About what had changed for her. Surely, it must have been massive for her to have faked her own death. He nodded curtly and walked out of the room, reordering his thoughts and compartmentalizing their conversation in preparation for seeing his fellow Death Eaters.

"Floppy!" He called as soon as he was at the bottom of the stairs.

She appeared, looking apprehensive, "Yes Master?"

"I need my cloak and mask."

Floppy trembled and disappeared with a crack. Draco shook his head, realizing he had frightened the poor little elf. When she reappeared with his things, he knelt in front of her to take the cloak and mask from her. "I'm sorry Floppy. I've been terribly short with you."

Floppy's big eyes examined his face closely. She was afraid of who he could become when he needed to be fierce. That person was so like the terrifying sire of her master that she could barely stand it. Draco saw her fear in the trembling of her lower lip. He reached a hand out to her and she took it in both of hers, whispering, "Is Master alright? You seem… strange since Miss came."

Draco smiled at her, "You're so perceptive, Floppy. It's stress." He felt like he was lying, but could find no actual lie in his words. "She needs to be kept a secret and it's hard. Do you understand? You know they can read my mind."

Floppy nodded. She'd seen that happen many times to her master. It seemed very painful and yet she was forbidden to protect him from that pain. She understood the way he'd been acting then. He was being protective in a world where he couldn't protect his charge. She could understand that. She'd done it herself. Tears filled her eyes as she remembered the last time she'd spoken to her son. She had also been trying to protect him. She'd been too harsh. She'd paid the price. She blinked away the tears. "I understand, Master Draco." She answered him with a nod.

He smiled at her. "Now, I have to go, Floppy. Take care of her. Take care of yourself. I'll send word before I return."

Neville Longbottom was maybe not the bravest of the Gryffindors, but he was possibly the most loyal. He'd been informed that Hermione Granger was faking her death and he was to be the way the Death Eaters would find out about it, but the problem with the kind of vague instruction was that he had no idea how to slip that kind of information to the right ears.

So on that Thursday afternoon while Hermione and Draco played chess, the opportunity to slip the information came by surprise. He was speaking to a work acquaintance and let slip that he'd seen a newspaper on a recent trip to the Muggle world with Hermione's face on it. He'd not planned to tell Henry at that moment, it had just slipped from his mouth suddenly and without any relation to their current conversation.

Neville had felt relieved until Henry had looked at him blankly. "Hermione Granger?" Henry McDonald had asked. "Who's that?"

Neville didn't quite know how to react. "She was friends with…. Potter. You know?"

"Well, I don't know who she is. What's it matter?"

Neville thought quickly. "It's just, they've been looking for her. You know how they are. If I say I saw it, they'll haul me in for questioning just for the fun of it. I thought maybe you..."

"What, is there a reward or somethin?"

Neville shrugged, "Maybe. I just thought maybe you might want to be the one to have found out. You know, it might help with your promotion."

At this, Henry's eyes cleared of all suspicion and filled with gratitude. "Nev, you're a good mate, you know that? You're right, it would make me look better. Maybe if I get a promotion me an' Mary can move into that place she's been eying…"

And just that quick, Neville's actual involvement in the discovery that Hermione Granger had been shot to death and then burned by a former accountant in the muggle world ended. Henry did exactly what Neville had hoped, he spread the rumor to the right people without mentioning Neville at all. Soon enough someone was dispatched to the muggle world to investigate.

By Friday morning, the press was all over the sensational (and tragic, since no one knew who she was, and pleas had been made for any family to come forward) murder of one Hermione Granger and the investigator was glad her job was made easier.

The investigator returned Friday afternoon and told her superior that the body had been burned to a crisp and the London Metro had turned the investigation over to Scotland Yard. She told him and showed him the press releases showing that Scotland Yard had used blood samples to match Hermione's DNA to the blood at the scene. They would have used dental records, if it hadn't been for the abuse she had suffered which shattered the majority of her teeth. And several bones.

They'd discovered Hermione's hair on stairs leading up to the floor where the body had been found, as well as some splatters of blood. They'd theorized the former accountant found at the scene had beaten her before forcing her to climb the stairs where he'd finished her off, then lit the body on fire as a forensic countermeasure.

Then the fool had tried to throw off their investigation with a wild call to 999 to alert the police to the burning body and claim there had been some woman there who had set the body on fire before he shot at her and she ran off.

This case was discussed as a possible entrant in the training manual as an example of desperate measures by psychopaths to get out of punishment for their crimes.

The magical investigator was given a raise.

Her boss made the floo call to his superior. He was given a bonus.

The superior made the floo call to Bellatrix LeStrange on Saturday morning.

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites!