May 23rd

Hermione found herself having difficulty focusing the day after her unexpected meeting with Draco in the woods outside of Hogsmeade. No matter what she tried to focus on, her mind kept returning to the encounter. When she returned to her home, she waved off all concerned inquiries from her husband. Antonin was trying to slowly reopen the door of communication. He could tell she was agitated and tried to engage her in conversation. Instead, she headed for their bathroom where she tried to put her mind to ease with a long, hot bubble bath. In the past, that always worked.

But, Wednesday morning of her second full week at the Ministry, she was having difficulty thinking about anything other than his bizarre behavior. What changed since she left his flat? In one moment, she would say that everything was as it had always been. In the next moment, however, she would find details of their interaction to feel unnatural and upsetting. Something felt off. She wasn't sure how to explain it even to herself. Just that the change between them bothered her immensely.

Whatever was going on with Draco managed to at least encourage her with the reminder that she had to get serious about her plan to free Aberforth. Waiting around much longer could easily turn into a disaster. Between her husband trying to rekindle whatever it was that once existed between them and the unusual and unsettling behavior of Draco, she wanted to get the mission over and done with one way or the other. Once Aberforth was no longer locked away in Level Eleven, maybe it was possible that she could see Draco's true motives. If he wanted nothing but her to rescue the wizard, once she was successful, he would leave her alone. If there was more to him than she knew, he would make it known. Though she was still confused as to what her feelings for the tracker were, she knew she wanted to get this last mission out of the way.

Getting serious about the next steps meant that she had to take a visit to Level Eleven, an official visit. It had been too long since she took the lift to the lowest level to inspect the area that was still under the control of her division. Staying away from it for too long could be just as suspicious as wanting to go there immediately after arriving. Besides, she could only sit behind her desk reading case files for so long before the last remaining bit of sanity she was desperately clinging to snapped.

As was to be expected, the moment the doors opened on Level Two and the occupants of the lift saw who was waiting, the Ministry officials exited quickly. Hermione bit back a smirk at how they scurried like cockroaches under the light. Even a year away from the Ministry hadn't taken away all of her power to terrify those who came into contact with her. She liked when they were afraid. It brought her joy and made her feel powerful. After so many years of feeling like she had no power at all, it was a heady feeling.

When the lift doors closed, Hermione pressed the tip of her wand to the hidden panel. Having the old, familiar wand back in her hand also brought her an immense level of joy. It felt right. The hidden panel slid open to reveal the hole where she was to insert the end of her wand for identification. She'd done this a thousand times with no issues, but for whatever reason, the thousandth and first time produced no results. Nothing happened. She tried again and again to no avail. The lift wasn't recognizing her authority to travel down to Level Eleven.

Furious and frustrated, she forced the lift doors to open on Level Two. Ignoring the confused expressions from the workers who'd only just exited the same lift moments earlier, she set her sights on her office door and stormed to her department. The anger she felt at being denied entrance didn't even have to be manufactured. She could feel her blood pressure rise with each second that she considered the disrespect.

"Why am I not able to go to Level Eleven?"

She didn't even bother to lower her voice to a more acceptable level when demanding answers from Rabastan. The wizard found her passion amusing. A smirk crossed his lips that wouldn't leave. She fantasized about what it would feel like to scrape the expression off his face with her fingernails.

"Oh dear, that must have been terribly frustrating for you, but I'm afraid as a security precaution, when you were gone for so long with no word of your whereabouts, we had to do something."

He was enjoying making her mad. It was a game he liked to play. Time away from him clearly hadn't changed that aspect of their working relationship. She knew she was dancing on the edge of a knife. If she was too eager to get down to the lowest level, he would be suspicious. If she suddenly acted like it was no big deal, he would be suspicious too. Playing the game of politics was exhausting. She didn't understand how she had been able to do it successfully for so long.

"How am I supposed to do my job if can't get down there?"

"I was under the impression you were easing back into work. What need do you have to be down there?"

She forced herself to take a deep breath before she answered the question. If she wasn't careful in her response, she would do more harm than good to the entire situation. His smirk was infuriating, but she couldn't allow him to get to her. Rabastan craved power and would seek it out wherever he could get it.

"It's important that I make sure everything in my department is in working order. I must see what is happening."

Rabastan's response was to rise to his feet and head for the door. As they made their way to the lifts together, he offered to accompany her down to Level Eleven. For the time being, he wasn't going to reinstate her access. She fought the urge to resort to Muggle street brawling in the lift. There would hopefully come a day that she could make him pay for all of the indignities he'd heaped on her head over the years. Some of them might have been fun, but others were just humiliating.

Everything in Level Eleven was exactly the same. It was as if time stopped since the last time she was free to enter the space on her own. Each of the dozen cells were occupied. Some even with faces she recognized. Every last one of them glared in her direction. It didn't bother her. She was used to the hatred that poured out of the cells.

She could tell that Rabastan was analyzing every movement she made. Keeping her countenance as impassive as possible was imperative. He was just looking for weaknesses to exploit. Even though she desired to leave the hateful place almost as soon as she arrived, she wouldn't give her Co-Head the satisfaction. She utilized every last ounce of strength she possessed to remain calm.

Aberforth's cell was at the very end of the line. Tucked far back in the corner, she was still able to see the old wizard leaning against the bars staring at the woman responsible for his capture. From the distance, it seemed that he was whole. He hadn't been terribly mistreated in his confinement yet. Once she confirmed his presence with her own eyes, she wanted to leave. As she started to turn, Rabastan caught her arm. Though not as rough a grab as her husband employed or even as rough as what forced the uncloaked stunner out of the end of her wand into Aberforth's gut, it was firm enough to allow him to steer her over towards Aberforth's cell.

"Your latest capture. Tell me, Hermione dear, how did you manage that? So many of us failed so many times trying to bring him in."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders in a terrible impression of the elegant motion of Draco's shoulders when he did the same.

"Lucky, I guess."

There was no other details she could provide him that wouldn't put her in a great deal of danger. If he suspected even for a moment what her true purpose was, he would strike. The last place she ever wanted to be was stuck inside one of the locked side rooms alone with Rabastan. He was a master at his craft and she knew she wouldn't be able to survive the strain of the torture without going completely insane.

Satisfied that Aberforth was whole and unable to bear standing close enough where she could see the hateful glare he was shooting her, Hermione began to walk away from the cell. She was only a couple of steps away before Rabastan caught her arm again. He lowered his mouth to the outside of her ear to whisper.

"He's the one you wanted to come see, isn't he?"

She felt her stomach clench. Should she deny it? Would he believe her if she tried? He stood back to his full height and didn't worry about lowering his voice any longer. Hermione was glad. She was certain that everyone in the room could hear the thump of her heart against her chest.

"I don't want you to be concerned. We've only just begun our plans for him. What fortunate timing you have. It'll be just like old times again."

His wink didn't help calm her nerves in the slightest. Knowing that he actually expected her to assist him in the interrogation of Dumbledore made her heart beat even faster. She wasn't sure that she had the stomach to do what she used to ever again. Torturing Aberforth wasn't even an option she wanted to contemplate. It was that much more important that she get him out of there before she damned both of them.

She longed to apologize to the man for getting him locked up. It had never been her intention and she hoped that he understood that. Even mouthing her apology wasn't an option. Rabastan had spies everywhere. She didn't dare give him any indication that she felt the least bit of remorse for the part she played in his capture.

Rabastan gave her a thorough tour of the familiar space. She was never more thankful to leave when he made the suggestion they return to their office.