A/N: So I planned to stop with this just being a two-shot, being my first fic and all. But. There was more... What happened to Draco the other night? Curious? Your curiosity will be satisfied and then some. Promise. Also I have some ideas for the next chapter, but nothing past that is concrete. Something happens the night of the ball. I just don't know what. And this is unbeta'ed unless someone wants to step up to the plate after waiting a terribly undetermined length of time for me to write another few thousand words :) plot and characterization if you please. I've skipped meals for you people - something's gonna give, probably starting with my brain.
Thank you anyone who reviewed, favorited, or followed this; I now understand firsthand how nice feedback can make someone dance that loony-happy jig.
Disclaimer: The wonderful world of HP isn't mine. Just thought I'd put that in there. Anyhoo.
"Hello, Little Weasley, how's being a professional seeker treating you?"
"Fantastic, Zabini. But I got the impression your message didn't have to do with department business," Ginny guessed shrewdly look as she sat down across from Blaise in a corner booth of the Leakey Cauldron.
Blaise smirked. "Very astute, my dear. What do you think it does have to do with?"
"Well I've been thinking about what we have in common, and besides our involvement in Quidditch, I would have to say a couple of idiot friends of ours."
Slightly impressed, and relieved he wouldn't have to convince her that a relationship between Granger and Draco was even possible, Blaise continued with a pensive look on his face. "I'm glad you're aware of the situation. The question now is, are you prepared to do anything about it?"
Oh if I wasn't in love with Harry, Ginny thought, a wicked smile coming to her lips. "Short of breaking any of the more serious laws, yes, you could say I'm prepared. You don't happen to have any ready-made plans, do you?"
"As I happen to be the expert on Draco, and you happen to be the expert on Granger, I was hoping we could come up with something together. The dance tomorrow seems to be their best chance in my mind; it'll allow them to see each other in a different light than they do in the workplace."
"That quite possibly could work. I had started thinking of trapping them in a broom closet one of these days, but they're usually together in that office as it is."
"She does have feelings for him, right? You've heard her say it or as good as?"
"She told me she doesn't think there's a chance he would go for her, him being a playboy Pureblood and her being a Muggleborn; seemed to hurt when I poked around the subject the other day at lunch. But the real proof was last night," Ginny paused with a triumphant gleam in her eyes.
"Oh? Do share with the class," Blaise said, his curiosity piqued.
"We were shopping in Diagon Alley for Hermione's dress because Malfoy asked her to the ball that's tomorrow - did you know about that?" He nodded and Ginny went on. "So we were just about done shopping when Hermione gets a message from Malfoy telling her he was injured and to come back to her flat. I dropped in this morning and she told me how torn up she was when she saw him injured... Plus they ended up sharing her bed, and sleeping through the alarm," she told him excitedly, evidently pleased with the turn of events.
"I'm going to assume they only slept in her bed, or else this meeting would be mostly pointless."
"Yes that's correct. But I think that should answer the question that she is indeed amenable to being more than partners with the twitchy ferret."
Blaise couldn't help but smile at the embarrassing memory of Draco getting turned into a ferret back in Hogwarts. "Well I'm convinced Draco is head-over-heels for the witch. He's protective of her, and doesn't believe she'd ever say yes which, coming from a womanizer, really means something. For so long, Draco's been used to girls chasing after him, and now he doesn't know how to return the favor."
"Makes sense. And they've never gotten close enough until now for them to have ever considered the possibility. Both were repulsive, forbidden fruit to each other."
"Exactly. That's another thing he's worried about though - how your brother and darling hubby-to-be are going to take it. He's such a Hufflepuff when he's unsure of himself," Blaise sighed. "How do you feel about spiking their punch with a love potion at the ball? Not even a love potion really, but more of an inhibition-lowering draught."
"You mean like alcohol?" Ginny giggled, raising her eyebrows.
"Actually a lot like alcohol but without any of the physical impairments. I can talk to Theo and get him to slip it to them since they're smart enough to distrust whatever we'd give them. Our jobs are simple: herd them like cattle so they're either talking or dancing together all night," Blaise finished smugly.
"You sneaky Slytherin. That's really an excellent plan. It'll only make them do what they wanted to in the first place. Since you're handling Theo and the potion, shall I talk discreetly with Harry and Ron about accepting such an unholy union? And by talk discreetly I mean threaten to hex their bits off if they don't."
"Hmm. Perhaps you should wait until after we can see if the plan worked. No use having Weasel blow up and spook the poor dears from going too near the cliff's edge before falling off of it. That being said, Potter might be level-headed enough to keep his mouth shut."
"Harry can take it like a man. He already puts up with Malfoy on a regular basis as it is, and deep down he just wants to see his friends happy. Once Ron started dating again right after breaking up with Hermione, she crawled back into her shell, her cat died, and she focused all her energy on Auror training. I've set her up on the most of the dates she's had since."
"And how did those pan out?" Blaise couldn't help asking.
"Unhappily, I think it's safe to say."
"Well it looks like we've decided on a course of action." Raising his glass, he declared, "A toast: to what will hopefully be a successful night of meddling."
"Cheers," agreed Ginny, clinking her beer glass with Blaise's.
Caphette,
Lost my in with the group so don't bother keeping security low-key tomorrow. Nearly got offed last night, but Granger fixed me up. Am currently fine at her flat; might bring her back to the Manor later. The Burrow and Manor are protected enough, but order a few good men to set up surveillance around Granger and Potter's flats. Start up the security upon receiving this because now the schedule I knew of could be altered. Go ahead and let Potter know about that and the threats flying around. Call Weasley in too. I'll fill in Granger. Will stop by in the morning to debrief so have the pensieve ready.
DM
Sitting at Hermione's kitchen table while she made sandwiches for a late lunch, Draco looked over his note to Head Auror Carmitch Caphette before attaching it to the leg of her barn owl, Phoebe. He opened the window to send it off along with the message he'd written his mother, telling her not to worry about his prolonged absence.
Carmitch was a tough old widower who had graduated alongside Mad Eye Moody from the training program. He had short, salt-and-pepper hair, and a set of gimlet gold eyes that unnerved even the nastiest of criminals. He was well-liked by the Aurors under him for not being afraid to joke around or jump into the fray; the scars covering much of his body attested to the latter. When Draco and Theo were first brought before him, he looked them up and down, and all around before stopping to stare down each of them. Whatever he saw, he seemed to like. "Welcome to the Aurors, boys," he rasped, sounding like there was sawdust coating his throat. "Anyone gives you shit, embrace the green and silver and don't hex them outright. Give them a bit of hell from behind the scenes and let me know so I can keep an eye on them." It turned out Carmitch had been in Slytherin himself, and had no illusions about the distrust that that and being a former Death Eater would garner. Draco in particular had come to look upon the man as a sort of father figure, although he'd disliked him at first for sticking him with Hermione.
Draco came up behind the small woman, wrapping his arms around her trim midsection and dipping his head down to murmur silkily in her ear. "Are you ready for me to tell you what happened last night?"
His proximity caused a shiver to run down her spine, but she didn't allow any other sign of how he was affecting her to show. Continuing to layer the pieces of toast with lettuce, microwaved bacon, and tomato slices, she said, "Yes. And don't leave out the things you think will upset me like I know you're planning to." On this assignment, Draco had already kept most details from her out of necessity; with his true identity known, Hermione would have been a liability had he told her the cell's secrets only to have her get captured. With Draco busy, she had taken to helping out with Harry's cases on the side.
His lips quirked with amusement even as he let out an exasperated sigh. He had only intended on leaving a little chunk out - like the extent of his emotional pain or the bit where he had asked her to the ball to protect her after keeping her in the dark for a whole month. He'd still hold on to that last bit now that the day of the attack was probably moved - and he had actually wanted to take her, after all. "Alright, but you asked for it, kitten, remember that."
Sandwiches made, Hermione turned around to look seriously up into his eyes. "I want to know, Draco."
His mercurial orbs darkened for a moment before he pecked her on the cheek, reveling in the fact that he could in a corner of his mind, and reached around to grab one of the sandwiches. He made his way back to the table and after she sat down in the next chair over, he started explaining between bites in a detached, measured voice.
"So you're aware that about a month back, probably a bit more, Carmitch had me dig in with the Sycamore cell that's based over in Bristol but has some of its operations going down in London. You know - underground clubs with passwords, that sort of thing, where you need to have a member vouch for you before being admitted.
"My contact was a man employed by one of Astoria and Daphne's uncles, Afton Greengrass. Afton's still something of a Pureblood fanatic, but he dotes on his nieces, never having had daughters himself. He has a person in everything that's happening just because he likes to be well-informed - for leverage and all. Generally he's very close-lipped, very adherent to proper etiquette and the old ways, but it was different with this group.
"The slogan this cell runs with, while being somewhat creative, is disturbing all the same. 'The Sycamores take Silver for the Second-Class.' They're involved in the trafficking, torture, mutilation, rape, and murder of Muggle and Muggleborn women, along with the requisite pep talks full of nonsense like subjugating Muggles and Pureblood world domination. The phrase comes from the fact that they only take silver sickles for payment at auctions, not gold galleons.
"Afton came to me with the idea to take them down from within when I was visiting the girls and Mrs. Greengrass with my mother one day. He started explaining about the group, and while he refused to say what set him off exactly, I had the feeling it had something to do with Stori and Daphne. Perhaps someone involved came to recruit him, saw them and had unsettling intentions, or maybe his inside man just couldn't get the screams of the other women out of his head." Draco was pale, lost in the awful memories and refusing to meet her eyes.
"My initiation was a five thousand galleon contribution, Legilimency... and to demonstrate slicing curses and the Cruciatus to break down a Muggle girl; she couldn't have been much more than sixteen. They stripped her and bound her in the middle of the room, took turns raping her, and scared her out of her mind. I kept the curses as brief as I could while still satisfying the audience, but I'm never going to get the pleading look in her eyes out of my head." He stopped here to stare down intently at his empty plate, guilt and self-loathing clearly evident on his drawn face.
"I snuck back inside after the meeting to get the layout of the building and stumbled upon the room where she and a couple of others were being kept. They were caged like animals, Hermione. I lit my wand and saw the other two were dead, but that girl I tortured was staring at me, shaking. I told her I was one of the good guys, unlocked the cage and reached toward her, but she just cringed away from the sight of me. Huddled in the farthest corner and started sobbing." Hermione finally placed her hand on his arm, feeling the muscles tense beneath her touch before pulling back. "I ended up grabbing her and apparating to St. Mungo's Muggle Wing, handed her to a healer after flashing my badge and told them to fix her up and obliviate her.
"After that I went straight to Carmitch's office and asked him to take me off the case. He was there, not surprising with the crazy hours he keeps, and poured me a drink. He told me that if I chose to quit now that I had been initiated, hurting that girl would have been for nothing, and anyone else we tried to put in place would only have to repeat the process."
A realization dawned on Hermione. On what she was now finally sure was the morning following that first meeting, she had come in to find Draco slumped at her desk with bloodshot eyes, obviously unshaven and unshowered. "That was why you followed me around everywhere that day." She had hit him with a Scourgify, made him eat, and repeatedly asked what she could do to help. But he'd just looked at her, submitting to her ministrations without a word, and scaring most of the people who tried to speak with her.
"That and the fact that there are serious rumors going around in that cell, rumors put about by some of the more influential former Death Eaters of plans for getting revenge on you, Potter, and Weasel for taking down the Dark Lord. The timing of the attack was supposed to be tomorrow, but if they're not complete imbeciles, the schedule I had knowledge of would have changed."
"You didn't need to babysit me that day or tomorrow; you know I can handle myself," she snapped, bristling at the notion he thought she needed a bodyguard and connecting the dots rather quickly.
He could easily read her indignation, and soothed her by explaining that he couldn't tip her off without making her want to take some sort of action that would blow the operation.
"That day was about watching out for anyone acting suspicious toward you, keeping low-key, and keeping my head on straight while I processed what I had done, came to terms with it, and could throw myself back into the job the next day.
"After dirtying my hands to start with, I was able to attend the meetings and auctions as part of the audience, trying to seem more interested in the spectator side of things and the profits that could be made. I wormed my way into the good graces of the higher-ups and they asked me for more financial backing in return for being able to make decisions and getting a cut of the profits. They also asked for information on you and your friends, Auror shift changes, blueprints and the like.
"Carmitch and the Minister approved what information I leaked back to the cell, all the while reporting back on who was involved, how many, the locations for headquarters and other sections, the number of women held captive, layouts, et cetera. I still hadn't made it into the inner circle, but Gunther, who ran the London section I was in, assured me it was only a matter of time before I got called in for a meeting in Bristol with him.
"I'm not sure what gave me away - perhaps I got a bit pushy for information on the plans for revenge on you three, or my own information wasn't good enough. They could have gotten suspicious and probed my mind during a weak moment. It's possible Gunther knew all along that I was acting on the Aurors' behalf if they used Legilimency while I hurt that girl. I doubt I could have concentrated on anything more in that moment than keeping my face blank."
"So what went down last night?"
"The drop point was an ambush. It was getting dark, they'd cast Muggle-repelling charms and anti-apparition wards, and I was taken off guard by a group of five men who disarmed me. They were the thugs who normally guarded the prisoners in return for leftovers. I got some punches off, but they levitated me by my ankle and bound my hands. The big beast of a guy whose nose I broke took that chance to whale on me, but was reprimanded by the leader who yelled at him saying I wasn't to be harmed. Now I don't know if you realize it, but hearing that you're not supposed to be harmed is only good for the fact that it gives you time. I heard Old Voldy give that order whenever he wanted to personally make someone suffer.
"So they let me down and took down the wards and I saw that as my chance. I used a wandless accio to retrieve my wand and activated the emergency portkey I always have in my shoe that goes to Malfoy Manor. Just before I disappeared, I got hit with a truly nasty slashing curse. I arrived and knew that unless I got help soon, I'd bleed out in the foyer for Mother to find me. So I apparated to your flat, aware that you wouldn't be able to apparate directly into the Manor."
"Why not St. Mungo's?"
"It was obvious I required immediate medical attention, so that's the place they would have checked first. That's part of the point in having a field medic."
"You were able to think all of that through while passing out from blood loss?"
"No, it's been a contingency plan I've had for a while in case I got injured. Going to the Manor first stops them from following me because of the unreal amount of wards it's under, and that in turn stops them from coming to your place."
"How thorough. Thorough and ghastly. What's to stop them from showing up here just because they know of my medical training and my connection to you?"
"Perhaps they don't want to spook us into moving just yet, and are bringing in the cavalry. Or perhaps they're waiting for us to leave to search the place and set a trap. Or even for us to split up to catch us each alone. I just wrote Carmitch to put a couple extra men on this building and Potter's flat."
"So what do we do now?"
"Well I'm going in to work tomorrow morning to speak with Carmitch, but if you're willing we should really stay at the Manor tonight. It's very nearly impenetrable, and I don't think you should stay here alone, Aurors or not. I might have galvanized them into finally taking action."
Hermione sighed, knowing all his points were valid, but still reluctant to go back to Malfoy Manor. Where she was tortured. And where she might have to face his mother and possibly pretend she and Draco were nothing more than partners. Or break the news that they were... Also torture, either way.
Just as Draco opened his mouth to try to convince her further, she surprised him saying, "Alright. Just let me pack my things."
