Friday, June 13th, 2003.
Part one: Coincidental encounter.
Blaise had helped Draco read through the humongous pile of books he'd brought back from the Manor until late the previous night. They'd found strictly nothing.
That day, he let the paperwork pile up on his desk without even touching it. He'd brought the shrunk books at work and had tried to read as much as possible.
He'd jumped like a madman every time his secretary had knocked.
When she brought a sealed letter, around six o'clock, he suddenly felt like the world was ending. When he realised it was only a request from a supplier he slumped back in his chair, his nerves at the limit of snapping.
It was nothing important. It was not from Nott.
Neither from Granger.
He still had to tell her that they'd soon lack time, very soon, but didn't want to write at the Ministry. He'd do it once back at Blaise's, she'd get it after work this way. He knew she worked late. Blaise whined about that too. Apparently it was her fault if Greengrass always worked late too.
Sighing, he eyed the offencive pile of paperwork, but didn't shrink it when he did the books.
He had enough work with those for the entire week-end. Damn, charity.
Well, he had enough until Monday then.
He put all the now ridiculously small books in his pockets, and decided it was time to get out of this building.
Once home, and as he wasn't expecting Blaise to come home two nights in a row, he retrieved the books, sized them back, and sprawled them all over the carpet at the foot of the couch. Then, he summoned parchment, quill and ink and sat down before the mess.
He'd been about to open one of the books when something clacked on the window.
A tawny owl he thought he recognised was tapping its beak against the glass. Draco stood, opened the window, gave the bird a treat, and opened the letter.
It wasn't from Granger.
The week had passed in a working haze, Hermione only realised it was ending when Tracey bid them a good week-end on her way out. It was already Friday.
They'd made good progress on the Montgomery case, thanks mostly to Astoria's thorough reviewing of Hermione's work. Whereas the Malfoy issue was a dead-end. She'd read twice every document or record she'd brought from the archives, and had had to just bring them back there, with nothing much but vague details that might help. Little hints, things that had taken her attention with no apparent usefulness. She'd taken notes, as usual.
What she needed was to find a believable pretext to enter the Mysteries section. She still hadn't come up with any plausible idea. Although, maybe she could trick her way in … No. She was not a child any longer. She was a grown woman, head of the Law Enforcement department, divorced and all. Using a decoy detonator to create a diversion and enter the department would be the stupidest move she could pull.
They'd know instantly it was her. It wasn't public record that Harry had used one of those to get into Umbridge's office all those years before, but they'd definitely send an auror to investigate and well … they would know.
Why was she even contemplating the idea?
Because it was the end of the week and she was exhausted. Mulling over and over the same ideas on this dreadful oath had drenched her. When was the last time she'd read a book just to read? Maybe she could do that, just that evening, and start over on a clearer mind the next morning? Err … charity. Right.
Plus she still had to bring her notes to Kingsley before going. Sighing, she stood to bid Astoria good evening, contemplating a time where they'd been reckless kids using Weasleys' Wizards Wheezes' products to solve their issues. George.
What time was it? Almost seven o'clock. The shop was about to close. Maybe she could go to George's. She'd thought about it the previous night and if he hadn't changed his habits, on Friday evenings, after closing, he did his accounting for the week. If she were lucky, he'd be at his flat above the shop, alone. She could go see him.
She dreaded what the conversation would be like, but she also knew that if she didn't follow her impulse, she might never do it. Right, she'd go that evening.
She went to Kingsley's office as Astoria fetched her things to go home but the Prime Minister apparently had an appointment when she arrived. She left a copy of her notes to his secretary, sealing it confidential, and, with a resolute step – that didn't match her state of nerves – walked out of the Ministry to go to the Leaky Cauldron.
There, she nodded quickly to Tom, ignoring the few looks she got from certain patrons and strode to the courtyard. Once in Diagon Alley, she hurried. The street was even more crowded than the previous night. Which she couldn't complain about, people didn't notice her in the flow of passers-by.
She caught sight of the closed shop quickly but was stopped in her tracks before reaching it, and by someone she'd rather not have met again in her entire life.
Pansy Parkinson was a couple of steps in the narrow street that lead to the apothecary. She was followed by a frowning Theodore Nott and of course, she noticed her.
"Look Theo, it's the mudblood." She sneered.
Hermione would have just kept walking past the street if the sodding bitch hadn't spoken, instead, she walked in to answer. It was the wrong night to provoke her. With Hermione's frustration always came recklessness.
When Blaise came back home that evening – after deciding that he could see Astoria the next day for the charity event, and had better help Draco work that evening instead, priorities and all – he found the lad frozen on the spot, a letter in his right hand, the other clenched on the kitchen counter in a death grip. The look of horror mixed with fear on his face was enough to alarm Blaise to the core.
He ran to the lad, and snatched the letter from his hands.
So, they'd guessed right. And Nott wouldn't play nice.
"Shit. You need to tell Granger. Now." He panicked.
A very small "Yes." answered him.
"I'll call her." Blaise decided, already bending over the fireplace to call Stori's office and ask for Granger. Astoria's surprised smile vanished as soon as she saw his expression.
"What's happened?" She urged, kneeling in front of the fireplace. Now was not the time to get distracted though.
"We need Granger. It's about Draco's oath."
"I knew you didn't tell me everything! Is it about him not being careful enough?"
"Pansy told Nott." Blaise cut, right to the point. It took her only a second to understand.
"Blackmail?"
"It's just starting." And now, he could see rage fill her face.
"That bitch. I'll fetch Hermione, your place." She practically stormed out of her office then.
Blaise returned to a very upset Draco, although he doubted anyone else could see right now. He'd screwed his face in an icy expression, but was pacing around the flat like an animal trapped in a cage. Ironic that he somehow was.
Astoria arrived only twenty minutes later, alone, panting, her hair a mess, beautiful.
"She's gone home, I'll try her place here." She hurried, kneeling in front of his fireplace, her arse in plain sight. Draco's issue seemed suddenly the least interesting thing about the evening, until the last started pacing again.
Where the hell was Granger?
Hermione didn't even try to contain her tone:
"How did you just call me?" She barked. The black-haired pug-nosed atrociously prejudiced bint didn't seem to take the hint:
"You heard." She dismissed calmly. "Has Blaise finally come to his senses and dumped you too?" Hermione chuckled, albeit bitterly, Pansy Parkinson had ways to anger her and then make her laugh by being stupid. It wasn't a surprise that such a vile excuse for a woman had believed their little play though.
"Actually we're very happy together." She gave in an horrid honeyed tone that reminded her of Judith. Everything to help her anger. "Thank you for showing concern." She added, her hypocritical smile hurting her cheeks.
"I don't understand him." Parkinson scoffed. At least she had the brain not to believe that Hermione was using a love potion. "What's he doing with filth like you?" She spat, her big nose wrinkled upward.
Hermione took a deep breath, but her hand was already clutching her wand in her pocket when she mocked: "Enjoying himself?"
Parkinson snorted in a manly like fashion: "Blood traitor. Such a shame Draco never knew who to associate with."
"Well, at least it shows they're not prejudiced scum." Hermione was quick to retort, even if she didn't really see what Malfoy had to do with her supposed relationship with Blaise.
"It just shows how stupid Draco is." Malfoy again? "Too bad he didn't listen to me. Now he's going to …"
"Pans." Warned Nott. Hermione instantly felt like something was off. Nott, previously amused by the little 'banter' seemed about to hit the pug-nosed bint.
"He's going to what?"
"Regret it." She sneered, and Nott grabbed her arm.
"Shut up Pansy." He drawled. The warning in his voice would have shut Hermione up, but the witch seemed too angry to realise. Or maybe she just lacked the brain cells.
"Why? She's just a stupid mudblood." She barked at him.
"And the head of Law enforcement you bint." He hissed between clenched teeth, still gripping her arm.
"Who cares? It's not like she going to break …" He slapped her then. Hard. And suddenly, it clicked.
It all clicked, there weren't so many things Hermione was currently trying to break. She realised that Pansy must have known about the oath. She'd told Nott. Whom turned his enraged glare to Hermione but before he could retrieve his wand to obliviate her, she snatched hers out and spat:
"Expelliarmus." Both their wands flew in her hand and purely out of war reflexes, her heart beat racing, she pointed hers at them.
"You don't move or I'll have you arrested later." She warned. Nott looked dangerous. Hermione prayed he didn't try to jump on her. Parkinson was still cradling her cheek and started shaking in shock. Hermione got closer to them, eyes darting everywhere in search of possible witnesses, and when she didn't see any, walked to them until they stepped back further into the street, away from prying eyes, her wand not wavering from Nott's face.
When they were safely out of sight, she let her anger make small sparks shoot out the tip of her wand.
"Now, you two are going to listen to me very carefully." Her fury oddly turned her words to ice. "You are going to leave Draco alone, and his issue will stay a secret." Nott opened his mouth but she continued before he could say anything: "If you disobey, I'll have you both arrested, as well as your father Theo, oh, and Mr Flint. I'll keep those …"
"You can't." Spat Nott which only enraged her even further. She could feel her pulse in her temples.
"Oh you think? See, I think I can." She had very few cards to play, but she was going to pull them all. "I thought you knew who I was Nott. I can have the whole Ministry on your arse within the next hour. I can have your father, or all of you, sent to Azkaban, without a trial. I can also use my wand right now." She waited for him to absorb what she'd just said, hoping her anger hid the big fat lies, as Parkinson's shaking doubled. When his stare hardened, she continued: "I won't though. Because I think you'll think this through. I'll keep those," She said, showing the wands, "until I receive a confirmation that they have dropped the blackmail. If it continues, you'll regret it, if it leaks, you'll be sorry to be alive. Am I being clear?"
"You are." He growled, his eyes so dark if they'd been magical weapons she would have been dead for long. Hermione repressed another shudder, this man was definitely a menace, but she forced herself to keep her own glare steady on him.
"You …" Parkinson started weakly.
"You shut the fuck up Pansy." He spat, his breath heavy. If Hermione left just then, she worried he'd kill her, but then, she realised that Draco's tensed despair was probably because of her, and instead of warning Nott against violence, she added:
"Don't forget who I am Nott, I'd have no mercy for you." She glared one last time at him, and disapparated.
Hermione never apparated to her building, because the noise could alert the neighbours, and she couldn't apparate in her flat either, it was warded, but this time was an exception.
She stumbled, out of breath, adrenaline decreasing dangerously, in front of her door. She banged it open and once it was closed again, collapsed against it.
Damn. She hadn't felt this much in years. Fear, raw fear, nerves, anger, rage, fury even, spite, power. Hate. All had mixed as she'd pull the name card. She was definitely not a school girl any more.
She caught her breath, slowly and then realised she was clenching at her wand so tightly that her fist hurt. She loosened her grip and accioed a piece of parchment and a quill to tell Malfoy.
She quickly wrote that the blackmail should be off very soon, that she'd explain, all that in a shaky handwriting she didn't like, and sent her tiny owl. Tiny, she'd just call him Tiny. Tiny the tawny owl.
She watched Tiny fly off, and felt so moist in cold sweat that she undressed on the spot and went straight to her shower.
When she came out of it, her nerves slightly eased by the heat, a loud cracking noise made her jump. A small yelp escaped her lips as her wand flew up to her right hand in a summon she'd made unconsciously. She ran to the source of the noise, picturing Nott on her threshold, his dark eyes nearly black with fury, his wand pointed at her, only to find Astoria's head in the earth of her small fireplace.
"Are you bloody serious?" She shrieked. "You scared the crap out of me!" Astoria's giggles were certainly not welcome.
"Hermione?" She said, cocking an eyebrow at her, totally unaffected by the death glare she was receiving.
"What?" Hermione snapped angrily. Astoria remained thoroughly unbothered.
"You're in your panties." She smirked outrageously. Hermione scowled and didn't even bother to cover herself, neither to contain her irritation:
"What do you want?" She spat. Astoria's mirth suddenly vanished as her face screwed in a grave expression.
"We have an issue. It's about Draco."
"What's happened?" Hermione urged, her nerves twisting the other way around.
"They're starting the blackmail."
Hermione stopped and felt her mouth lift in a smirk that was surely ugly. Astoria's eyes grew wide.
"I don't think so." Hermione said, a mischievous chuckle even escaped her lips. Astoria's mouth fell agape.
"What have you done?" She asked, a smirk of her own slowly creeping up her mouth.
"Just tell him I have good news. I'll explain. Where …"
"Blaise's. Be quick." Hermione nodded and Astoria's smirk disappeared with the flames.