AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi everyone! Thank you so much for continuing to read my story. Updates might be a little slow starting now because I will be recovering from a minor surgery, but please be patient with me. Also, thank you to everyone who is leaving reviews! I read every single one of them and they are all much appreciated. Please be aware that the feedback I get will impact the story to a certain degree, so if you have ideas for the plot, things you like, things you don't like, feel free to share them with me! Thank you again, and I hope you continue to enjoy reading.

Blaise was making his usual rounds at night lost in thought. He had already taken away house points from pretty much every house for being out after curfew or wandering the halls. It had become a more common occurrence to find students out of bed hanging out together. He normally didn't like taking away house points for it, given everything that had happened the past few years, but McGonagall had insisted that the regular rules be enforced if Hogwarts was to return to its former state.

He remembered when he and his mother were at Hogwarts together for the first time. She came to pick him up and floo him back to their home for Christmas break rather than have him travel by the train. They decided to walk around the grounds before they left. He had never seen his mother so happy before.

"I had such a wonderful time at Hogwarts," his mother said dreamily as she looked over the quidditch pitch. "You have a great seven years ahead of you, Blaise."

"I'll make you proud, mother." Blaise promised as he squeezed her hand. She smiled down at him as they continued along the corridor past the Slytherin tower.

"When I was just a young girl in Slytherin, I had the biggest crush on Draco Malfoy's father."

"Gross!" He said, covering his ears. His eleven year-old self didn't want to hear about some mushy crush.

She patted him on the head and ruffled his curly black hair. "One day you'll understand."

"Was father a Slytherin too?"

His mother pursed her lips at the memory of Blaise's father. "Well I didn't meet your father until after Hogwarts, as he was a few years ahead of me and had graduated long before I did. But no, he was a Gryffindor actually."

"I don't know any Gryffindors…" he frowned.

"Well, maybe you'll be friends with one someday."

"Whatever. Slytherins stick together!" Blaise chanted with a smile on his face as he jumped up and down.

"That's right, darling." His mother smiled and took his hand to pull him along on the rest of the walk.

Blaise never met his father. He died before he was born after he and his mother had a very brief affair. She didn't like to talk about him, so he usually refrained from asking. He honestly wasn't that curious anyway after seeing how many Slytherin fathers treated their children.

His thoughts suddenly drifted to Hermione's parents. She never talked about them, but she had told him they used to be dentists. Used to be? What a strange way to phrase it. Perhaps they had retired? In fact, he hadn't seen her writing any letters to her parents either. And he knew for certain that they hadn't died, as she used to go home every break to be with them. He wondered what changed.


It became deathly silent as Hermione entered the great hall at breakfast the next morning. Almost all the students turned to stare at her and whisper, holding newspapers and looking back and forth amongst each other. Confused, she slowly made her way to where Blaise and Malfoy were sitting. Both of them were staring at her too. Blaise looked worried and even Malfoy looked mildly concerned.

"And here I thought the days of people staring at me were fading," she joked as quiet chatter began to start up again.

Blaise continued to look worriedly at her while Malfoy sighed.

"Alright I've had enough of the staring," she said pointedly. "What's going on?"

"Granger. You should read this," Malfoy tossed his newspaper in front of her.

DAILY PROPHET: HARRY POTTER MISSING

Just two weeks into his training, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived seems to have disappeared without so much as a trace from the magical community. His absence was at first noted but not given priority due to suspicion that he was on sick leave. However, after a month there was still no word from the auror department. The disappearance was not brought to the attention of the public until now. It seems that the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt has tried to keep this a secret as to not cause any public disturbance. Anyone who might know anything about Potter's current whereabouts are encouraged to contact the auror department…

Hermione slammed the paper down in horror and felt herself begin to hyperventilate. So this was why she hadn't heard from Harry. And how dare the ministry try and keep this a secret. Why hadn't anyone come and talked to her, or at least questioned her? Did McGonagall know about this too? What efforts was the ministry making to find him?

"Easy," Blaise said, rubbing gentle circles on her back as she tried to remember how to breathe.

"I don't understand!" She looked to the teacher's table and noticed that McGonagall was not there.

Blaise followed her gaze. "She didn't know. McGonagall is at the ministry right now yelling at Shacklebolt."

Hermione stood up. "I'm going too."

Blaise grabbed her wrist lightly. "Maybe you should calm down before you go-"

She didn't give him a chance to say anything else before stepping away from his hand and apparating on the spot.

Hermione appeared with a loud pop in the ministry lobby and raced to Shacklebolt's office. A few aurors looked at her with questioning gazes but backed off as soon as they recognized her. The door opened immediately, as he was clearly expecting her. McGonagall, Shacklebolt, and the head Auror were sitting at Shacklebolt's desk looking tensed. They turned to Hermione as she entered.

The head auror, a tall woman in her late 30s with long brown hair stood up. "Miss Granger. This is a private meeting," she began indignantly.

The minister just sighed and waved her in. "Come in, Hermione. I had a feeling you would show up unannounced today. We reached out to the Weasleys a few minutes earlier but they informed us they wouldn't be coming."

McGonagall glared at him as Hermione took a seat next to her. "And she has every right to be here, Kingsley. How dare you keep this from the public, from me. That boy was my responsibility far before you even knew of his name!"

"I assure you, Minerva, the point of keeping this a secret was not to hurt you in any way. We did not want to raise public concern and cause panic after what the wizarding world just went through. We thought at first that it might be nothing."

"That's not the point, Kingsley. You should have contacted me right away when your suspicions were raised even the slightest bit. The amount of resources I have at Hogwarts to help find him-"

Shacklebolt's eyes flashed dangerously at her. "Are nothing compared to what the ministry has access to. We are doing everything we can to locate Mr. Potter."

Hermione couldn't take it anymore. "Please, can someone explain to me exactly what is going on?" The three adults looked at her and Shacklebolt nodded at the auror.

"My name is Annabelle Forrester, the head of the auror department. Potter never showed up for his third week of training. At first we thought he might be sick, so we granted him some leniency, especially with his talent and societal influence," she began.

McGonagall's eyes narrowed at the woman's lack of tact and professionalism in dealing with the case. "How long did this leniency last?"

"We gave him a full two weeks before we reached out to him, only to find his apartment empty. But the strange thing was nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. No signs of a struggle. We also found his wand on his bedside table. So that means Potter either ran away or he was kidnapped somewhere."

"Who would want to kidnap, Harry?" Hermione wondered.

Shacklebolt smiled grimly. "As I'm sure you're aware Hermione, even though the world is at peace, there are those who still hold on to their wartime ideologies. Harry Potter was the person who defeated their leader."

"What's the current status of the investigation?" McGonagall asked.

Annabelle pulled out a piece of paper containing all the details. "I have our best aurors scouring the country for Potter. We also have contacts within the muggle world using some sort of face tracking system," she added the last part somewhat confused by the terminology.

"Facial recognition software," Hermione realized. "But it's been months. How have you not found him?"

"These things take time, Miss Granger. We will keep all of you updated from this point on."

McGonagall stood up. "What can Hogwarts do to help?"

"Stay out of our way and let us know if you see any suspicious behavior amongst the students or staff."

"This is outrageous. Surely there must be something we can do!" McGonagall insisted.

Hermione sat in shock as she processed the information while the two witches argued. How could Harry have been kidnapped? It didn't make any sense. He had been so lucky his entire life, dodging bullets and even evading death. While she had ever bit of faith in his magical talent, he was without his wand wherever he was…if he was even alive.

Whatever was happening to him now was her fault. She hadn't heard from him in months and had just assumed he was busy. What a fool she had been. If anything happened to him she didn't know what she would do. All her memories, the awful memories she had worked so hard to keep at bay came flooding back.

She had lost so much from the war: the Weasleys, her parents, her friends…and now Harry. How could she have let it all happen this way? She felt more alone than ever before. Alone. Scared. Ashamed. Feelings she had tried to keep bottled up for so long ever since she came back to Hogwarts.


Blaise paced nervously in the common room as he waited for Hermione to return. It had been hours since both Hermione and McGonagall had left. Whatever happened to Potter would affect her more than anyone. His pacing stopped as the door swung open and a rather defeated looking Hermione slowly walked in.

"Hermione," he said, rushing to her side and grasping her shoulders. "Are you alright?"

Unable to contain her emotions anymore, tears started falling. "It's all my fault, Blaise. I knew he wasn't returning my letters and I knew it was strange but I just thought he was too busy with everything to talk to me." Blaise gently guided her to sit down on the couch and wrapped an arm around her.

"It's not your fault," he said comfortingly.

Her hands clenched at her sides as her body shook with her tears. "I should have said something. Maybe they could have done something sooner. Oh god, what if he's dead?"

Blaise pulled her closer and she pressed her face into his shoulder, sobbing now. "Wherever he is, I'm sure he's not dead. Potter has proven himself quite difficult to get rid of." Blaise felt a sharp twinge of pain his chest as he watched her break down. It hurt him to see her like this and he hated the Ministry for keeping this a secret from Hermione of all people.

He gently ran his hand over the back of her hair. "I promise, we will find him. Everything will be okay." She continued to sob until her cries became weaker and turned into soft sniffles. After a few minutes he realized that she had fallen asleep in his arms, her head resting on his chest and her arms around his waist. It was hard to see her so vulnerable and hurt. While she certainly hadn't been the same fiery girl she used to be before the war, bits and pieces had been coming back, just as his former self had been reemerging as their friendship grew. But this was just wrong. Hermione was a powerful witch, a war hero, the brains of the Golden Trio and seemingly the only reason they ever survived anything. How could the Ministry disrespect her so much after everything she had done for the magical community?

It was just dinner time at Hogwarts, and Hermione had been gone most of the day at the ministry. He wasn't hungry though and he couldn't bring himself to wake her. Rather than carry her back to her room, he decided to just sit there and let her rest for a while. The front of his shirt was soaked from her tears, but he didn't mind. It felt nice to hold someone like this. It felt…right.

Blaise knew in that moment that his feelings for the sleeping girl in his arms had extended beyond friendship. At first, they were friends out of convenience. Then, they were friends because they found out they actually liked each other as people. Ever since their hug at the Slug Club Party, it had slowly begun to evolve into something more. He didn't know how Hermione felt about him, but he would be sure to help her through this. And maybe, just maybe, she would feel the same in return.