Harry had unfolded and refolded the carefully preserved letter too often, it was no longer carefully preserved.

He read and reread the words, and wondered what type of person Hermione was without him. He had the realization, days ago, that maybe he hadn't been such a good friend after all.

What he knew of Hermione seemed to be mostly in relation to him.

Hermione was a good friend.

She was very smart, she helped him with his school work during school, and helped him with his police work as an adult.

She was funny, she made him laugh.

She liked correcting him.

Maybe it hadn't been the correcting that she liked, maybe it had been the teaching. Maybe it had been eagerness that made her talk so quickly, "Actually that's a common misconception," she would say, about a lot of things. She would say it too often, Harry had learned to drown out most of it.

Gods, he had been such an awful friend.

He unfolded the letter again and stared at it.

He stared until he was brought back to reality, the seat across from him was pulled open, and someone sat hastily.

"What do you want, Potter?" Malfoy's tone was curt, he was sitting across from him, dressed all in black as usual, his mouth in a scowl, the bags under his eyes dark.

Harry blinked away from the letter, and without looking at it, folded it right back up.

Draco Malfoy was across from him, his arms crossed in front of him, his eyes lowered, his hair whiter than his skin. He had agreed to meet Harry, but only during his lunch break, he was a busy man.

"Coffee?" Harry asked, motioning to his own cup of coffee that now sat cold on the table between them.

Draco looked up and around, Harry assumed he was looking for a server to come take his order. "I can go order up front for you?"

"I'm fine," Malfoy cut him off. "I don't have much time," he looked up again. They were seated in the very back of the cafe, in a dark corner, the server didn't seem to see either of them, but Malfoy made no move to call attention to himself.

"Alright," Harry had to clear his voice to continue. "I don't know if you heard," Harry kept his eyes on Draco's. "Hermione is missing."

Maybe if Harry hadn't been paying such close attention, he wouldn't have noticed the way Draco's shoulders stiffened.

Draco looked at Harry's cold coffee, his eyes darkening. "I heard," he said quietly.

"Did you talk to her?" Harry dared himself to ask, it was why they were here after all. "After graduation?"

Draco's neck barely moved as he turned back to look Harry in the eyes, "No."

Harry nodded, not sure how to continue from there. He took the cup in his hands, blew on it though it was no longer hot, and took a slow sip.

Draco only watched.

"Tom Riddle has her," Harry said, the words thick as he spoke them, they seemed to want to cling to the inside of his throat. "But she was able to call me," he continued, putting the coffee back down and reaching for the letter on his lap.

Draco froze. His jaw was set, his eyes hard, and his shoulders still stiff.

"I'm not supposed to say anything about it," Harry said warily, unfolding the letter carefully. He laid it on the table and slid it over just close enough for Draco to read.

It was weird seeing Draco's skin any other color than white, and when it turned slightly green, Harry's brows furrowed. "But she told me about this letter. I've been thinking a lot about it, but I didn't give it much importance at first."

Draco's fingers brushed the letter.

"Hermione told me to keep the letter because it was very special to her." Harry's voice trailed off, not taking his eyes off the letter between them. "I think she just didn't want Tom to know anything else about her." Harry finally looked up and sighed. He pushed the letter closer to Draco and pulled his own hands back into himself. "I think she wanted you to keep it."
Draco's eyes widened, his mouth fell open slightly before he quickly shut it. His jaw tightened again, and he quickly took the letter, folding it up before shoving it into his shirt pocket. "Are you close to finding her?"
Harry took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, "We have some leads," he lied.

Draco nodded, then looked at his watch, "Sorry," he said, "I really do need to get going."

Harry tried to smile politely, though it looked more like a grimace. "Right, well."

Draco didn't make another move, only nodded as if he was getting ready to say his goodbye. He kept his hands on the table, ready to push himself up. The strength to do so didn't seem to come.
"Isn't it weird?" Draco couldn't tell if the words came out of their own free will, or if they were shoved out by his conscience.

Harry, who still had his glasses off, squinted, "What?"

Draco's eyes glanced around while his head remained still, "It's weird. Granger is-" Draco cleared his throat, glanced to his right so he wouldn't have to look at Harry, and continued, "Granger is abducted, she finally gets to talk to you, and she, out of all things, tells you to find a letter I wrote her when we were kids?"

Harry sighed as he put his glasses back on, "You don't know what it's like to be in the position she's in. And if she wants to think about this letter," he shrugged, "then fine. She wouldn't have brought it up if it wasn't important-"
"Exactly," Draco said through his teeth, just as Harry finished his own sentence.
"-To her."

Draco felt his teeth clash into each other, he stared at Harry now, really searched his face for any other clue. Was this man playing with him? Was he searching for more information? Draco was willing to give him it.

Harry had grown more worry lines around his eyes than Draco remembered him having. His glasses looked heavy on his tired face, and his eyes looked empty behind them.

"You don't have any idea of where she could be, do you?" Draco realized, and if he hadn't been sure of it before, he was in that moment. Harry's face didn't change, his disappointment had been clear on his face all along.

"She said her goodbyes, she told me her wish was to keep this letter safe." Harry's voice was softer now, or maybe it was resigned.

Draco felt an anger flare up inside him. "Hermione is out there-" his insides screamed at him to tell Harry the truth, but it would get back to Riddle. Riddle always knew. Riddle always somehow knew who betrayed him. Things wouldn't end well. "She's out there giving it her all," Draco felt his teeth bare, "And you are out here handing out letters? Spreading her goodbyes as if shes fucking gone?"

Harry straightened up, his eyes brightened, and just as Draco thought he was getting through to him, Harry blinked away the tears. "I don't know what else to do. All we can do is wait for Riddle to make another move-"

"And what's the move going to be? Are you waiting for - do you want to be the one who finds her body?" but even as Draco said the words, the only bodies he pictured Harry finding were those of his own family.

He fished the letter back out of his own pocket and slammed it down.

"Would the Granger you know," Draco spoke hard but slowly, waiting for the words to enter Hary Potter's thick skull, "waste time thinking about a stupid letter when she has arguibly, a much bigger problem?"

"I don't think," Harry managed to speak even slower than Draco, "Hermione is who we thought she was. She's more than just the strong, brave girl we know. I've been thinking about it a lot," Harry rubbed his face with his palm all over his face. "We - I," he corrected, "expected too much from her. And I think if she wants to think about love letters, then she has the right to fantasize about whatever it is she wants. She deserves to feel, and think about good memories. And I think that's the part of her we should celebrate her for. Not just how smart and brave she was. We don't ever talk enough about how sweet she is. And you know, I don't think we ever let her speak about her feelings as much as we should have. We always thought she wasn't like other girls, we never would have thought of her as someone to save a love letter," Harry laughed without any humor in his tone. "But she was that person, and we never should have let her think that was a bad thing. But all I can do now is let her be that person," Harry gave the letter a pointed look, "She wants you to have the letter Draco."

Draco pretended not to see the tears in Harry's eyes. He wanted to shake Harry and scream in his face.

Instead, he took the letter back into his pocket and shoved himself out of his own seat. "She isn't fucking dead so stop acting like she is and go fucking find her."

Harry nodded.

"And," Draco glared, "It's fucking weird that she mentioned the letter. It's not right."


Hermione sat on the floor of the living room, it would have been dehumanizing to be forced to sit that way if she hadn't already known the last time they let her sit on the couch, she had bolted for the door.

This time, Tom handed her the television remote and told her she could watch whatever she wanted as long as she sat on the floor with her legs crossed.

She had given him a look. Incredulous that someone would ever think of telling her how she had to sit.

"It'll slow you down if you try to leave again," he shrugged. "Either way, there's codes on all the doors now. You can't leave without asking."

Hermione slowly sat on the floor having learned her lesson. Being obedient, in the meantime, was going to have to be her way of playing him. "But I can leave if I do ask," she said thoughtfully. "Good to know."

Before he could reply, she turned on the television with a glee she hadn't experienced since she was a child.

The remote felt sleek in her hand, and she wondered why she had ever thought she was too good for some good old fashioned tv.

She surfed through the channels, thinking she'd have a hard time to find something she wanted to watch.

Weirdly, there was too much she wanted to watch.

She almost didn't hear Tom in the background having a phone call.

"Of course I understand, but when have I ever given you a reason to doubt me?" Tom cooed into the phone.

Hermione stared at the television, but concentrated on what Tom was saying.

"I did not do anything they're accusing me of," Tom said, and Hermione dared herself to look at him with lowered eyes. He only smiled in return.

He was sitting on the couch furthest from her, his legs stretched out in front of him, "What reason would I have for killing those girls?" he said into the phone, sounding offended. "I got involved with the wrong people, I should have known better, but that doesn't mean I deserve to be accused of - god, I can't even believe what I'm being accused of," his hand casually held his phone to his ear, while his other arm rested on the top of the couch. "You can't imagine the hell I've been through."

And Hermione wanted to laugh, loudly. Instead she gripped the television remote and reminded herself to play nice. For now.

Besides now more than ever there was information to be gathered.

"Right," Tom agreed with the person on the phone. "And of course I appreciate that." He paused, "That's actually what I needed to speak to you about. I got Helga's Cup. I'm calling around, only to my most trustworthy friends, but I wanted you to be my first call. You, better than anyone, know that in any other circumstance I wouldn't sell the cup. But I need the money," Tom glanced at his nails. "Great, of course I'll let you know where the bidding ends up at."

When he hung up, he called another number, and had the exact same conversation.

After his fifth call, Hermione felt she had gone crazy. It felt like she was repeating the same two minutes over and over again.

"Can you please change it up a bit," she said through her teeth. "You're making my head hurt."

"You have to stick with what works," he only replied before making another call.

Hermione tried her hardest to ignore Tom.

When his conversation finally changed, he sounded like he was finisning up a deal. "I'll have Bella take you the cup, and you can just wire us the money-" he laughed. "You know I'm on the run right? Of course I'm innocent," his voice was playful then, "But I can't risk you turning me in. I imagine the bounty on my head is much bigger than this cup."

Hermione wondered if there was a bounty for Tom Riddle.

He nodded into the phone, listening intently. "You know what? Give me two days. I'll tell you where to meet me." He smiled into the phone again, "You know me so well."

When he hung up, he was still smiling, Hermione tried to ignore him.

"Looks like I need to go out for a little trip soon."