The first thing I noticed about the creature crouching on the wooden floor was her hair.

Her once beautiful blonde hair hung in clumps around her face. Her blue veins were visible under her delicate, translucent skin. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, subtly rocking back and forth. Shoved into the corner of the room, the soft candlelight just barely illuminated her form.

"Mother," Draco said quietly, and Narcissa's head snapped up at the sound of it. Her eyes were bruised and rimmed with red, making her appear as if she hadn't slept in weeks. She crawled forward, her pupils dilating and darting back and forth.

When she didn't reply, I asked, "Mrs. Malfoy?"

She turned towards me, her eyes narrowing. "Get out."

"Mother," Draco said patiently, refusing to move from the spot he was standing, "she just wants to speak to you. Is that alright?"

"Get out, you stupid boy," she hissed. "The Dark Lord will be here any minute. And he'll be here to kill you for your insolence."

"Mother," he said, "The Dark Lord isn't here. What you saw wasn't real."

"None of it is real!" she spat, scrambling to her feet. "All of it is a dream. All of it is just visions!" Her expression suddenly went blank as her eyes took on a dreamy quality. "I just have to watch you die again and again. So get out."

"Draco," I whispered, "She's having delusions?"

"She can't distinguish reality and fantasy. She believes that all of her delusions are reality." He looked towards his mother, his face defeated. I couldn't imagine having to go through this-watching someone I loved lose her grip on reality.

"You were such a good son," she was murmuring, pacing back and forth. "You were only a few years old yesterday, and now you're full grown. But it doesn't matter, because you always die the same way."

"Mother!" Draco exclaimed sharply. "I can promise you this is real."

Her lips stretched into something that was a mockery of a smile. "Oh, Dragon. You don't understand." As she stepped into the light, I noticed a sheen of sweat on her body. Telltale sign of a muggle affliction: specifically, a bacteria.

"I have a few ideas what we need to look for," I told him.

He nodded. "Would you like anything?" he asked her with a gentle quality I hadn't heard from him before.

She didn't appear to hear him, and we exited her room, closing the door softly behind us. I immediately asked him where the library was, and he led the way as I admired his extravagant décor. His library was in a whole different world; it had a modern feel, and every shelf was filled with books.

I didn't even bother commenting on the appearance of the room; instead, I went straight for my wand and summoned Magical Signatures.

"Here is what I observed about her condition," I told him, flipping open the book. "Dark curses usually target either the stability of the mind or physical health. The most common Dark curses make the victim lose their grip on reality, and give them what most experts call 'living nightmares'. The rest operate like a slow, untraceable poison. The victim's body begins to shut down, usually killing them within a few weeks."

"But my mother is exhibiting both," he interrupted, peering over my shoulder.

"Exactly. Your mother is experiencing both physical and mental effects from the curse. This is an extremely rare circumstance."

"So you think that this is an experienced Dark magic caster," he guessed.

"Not necessarily," I replied, summoning another book on Dark magic. "Consider what happened that night. The assault occurred at your home. The attacker went after both of your parents with Dark curses, yet your father dies at a hospital within a matter of minutes and your mother survives days later."

"So you think it might have been a mistake."

"It easily could have been a mistake. A Dark curse like this requires precision and perfection. I suspect that the attacker went for Lucius first, and panicked when it came time to attack Narcissa. The second time was a slip-up. Both of them were supposed to die." I paused. "I just can't explain how he got to the hospital."

"It was Blaise," he said, conjuring a cup of coffee. "He dropped Lucius off at the hospital. Tried to firecall me, but I was in an important business deal. When I got home, I discovered my mother on the floor, groaning that the Dark Lord was going to crucio her."

"So the vendetta is with Lucius," I continued. "Narcissa was either a last-minute thought or a lower priority."

"So I'm looking for enemies of Lucius," he concluded. "His life was work. We start with his business enemies."

"Are you sure you don't want to start with his war enemies?" I asked. After all, Lucius did have a lot of them.

"No. It's been years since the war. This kind of attack just doesn't happen this far in the future."

"You're right," I said, sighing. Then, realizing what he'd said, I dropped the book. "Wait. You said 'we'."

"Of course," he replied, raising an eyebrow. "I was assuming you'd join me in this investigation."

I laughed. "You're joking." When I discovered he wasn't laughing along, the smile dropped from my face. "I have a job, Draco. I work eighty hours a week."

"So take a sabbatical."

I looked at him incredulously. "You can't be serious. I can't just ask for a sabbatical. I already took one last year."

"So take another. I already asked the hospital for permission."

"You're ridiculous," I said, shaking my head. "This is also my livelihood. I can't go around playing detective with you when I have rent to pay."

"Tell me the truth, Granger," he interrupted, walking closer to me so that he was only a few feet from me. "How much longer does my mother have if I don't reverse the curse?"

I couldn't answer that. I knew I couldn't. There were too many medical variables. Dark Curses were unpredictable and temperamental. I couldn't come up with a definite answer.

And yet… I'd seen this before. I knew how this curse was going to affect her, eventually, because I'd seen how fast it had acted on her in the last three days. "Two weeks," I murmured before I could stop myself. "Three, if she's strong."

His face remained blank, but I saw him swallow his fear. "Alright. How much are you paid at the hospital?"

I cocked my head to the side as I thought of the bills I'd received last year. "About thirty thousand galleons, when you discount taxes."

"Perfect," he replied calmly. "I'll pay you sixty thousand for every week you work to help my mother."

"What if I can't find the cure?" I asked, and the silence that followed my question seemed almost suffocating. He took a breath and held it, then let it out in a whoosh.

"If you can't find the cure," he said, "You'll keep the money I gave you. If you find the cure, I'll pay you as much as you want."

"I couldn't…" I protested, overwhelmed by this kind of offer.

"One million galleons," he said, and my jaw almost popped open. "If you can find the cure, I will deposit one million galleons into your Gringotts account."

I fell into the chair behind me, suddenly unable to feel my legs. This wasn't happening. This kind of offer was largely ridiculous. I'd never had that much money in my entire life. With one million galleons, I could live without working for years.

He sat next to me. "Oh, come on, Granger," he whispered. I could feel his breath on my face. "I need her in my life. She's my mother."

Before I knew what I was doing, I was nodding. I was agreeing. My life was going to be consumed with trying to help Draco and his mother for the next two weeks. And hopefully, she was going to come out of it alive.

The first business function he took me to was the night after the offer. I had borrowed a floor-length coral gown from Ginny. My hair was piled up on the top of my head in an elegant hairstyle, and my diamond bracelet glittered under the light of the chandelier. I was latched onto his arm, smiling at the men dressed in business suits milling about the room.

"We're going to speak to Hanover," he whispered in my ear. "One of my father's direct rivals in the investing industry."

"The man in the blue and red tie?" I whispered back.

"Yes. You're going to have to charm him a little if you want any information. Although," he commented, twirling me around innocently, "you do look stunning in that dress. It shouldn't be all that difficult."

"Oh, shut it," I said ineloquently. "Just because I'm here as your pretend date doesn't mean you can treat me like a real one."

Before we could approach our first subject, a woman with a dazzling smile intercepted us, planting herself in front of Draco. "Draco Malfoy!" she exclaimed, her red lips stretching across her teeth. "How nice to see you."

"Katie," Draco said cautiously, peering around her to see if Mr. Hanover had left. "It's good to see you as well."

Her eyes flickered over to me. "Wow. Is that Hermione Granger? You look beautiful!"

It suddenly occurred to me who she was: Katie Bell, an old Gryffindor Chaser. She looked as if she hadn't aged a day in a decade. "It's been so long since we've seen each other."

"Yes. It makes me remember the old Quidditch days. Not to mention kicking Slytherin's arses," she commented, bumping Draco lightly with her shoulder. He smiled back at her warmly.

"It's so good to see you, Katie," I said, reaching out and giving her a hug. "I'm glad you're here."

"Well," she replied airily, "I could hardly pass up the chance to get a few more deals. Besides, Pansy insisted we come."

And on cue, Pansy Parkinson glided up to us, wearing a long, beaded red dress. "Draco," she greeted, and her eyes visibly widened as she registered my presence. "And Hermione Granger. Even you have succumbed to his arrogant brand of charm?"

I laughed. "I may be here as his date, but I have no intention on falling for any of his charm."

"Hello, love," Katie said, lightly kissing Pansy's hand. "I feel like I haven't seen you in ages."

"Don't be ridiculous," she scolded, unable to hold back the indulgent smile. "It's only been a day."

"A day is much too long for you to be gone," Katie protested. I blushed at the display; most of the couples I knew weren't that obviously intimate.

"A Slytherin and a Gryffindor," I commented. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Well, I prefer to forget the person I was back in school," Pansy sighed. "I'm afraid I was a rather huge bitch."

Katie merely shrugged. Pansy had obviously changed as much as Draco had over the years, and I couldn't help but admire that. "Do you both work at a consulting firm?"

Pansy smiled. "I work at Draco's, and Katie works at Briggs and Associates."

"Our rivals," Draco added. "Speaking of which, I have to go steal a client from that lovely firm."

"Of course," Katie said graciously. "I think Pansy and I are going to head home, yes?"

Draco waved goodbye and pulled me in Mr. Hanover's direction, who was grabbing a glass of champagne off of a waitress's tray. He startled when he saw us, especially Draco.

"Mr. Hanover," Draco greeted him, pulling me close to his side. "This is my date for the evening, Hermione Granger."

"Pleased to meet you," he said formally.

"I just wished to speak to you about my father," he requested. "He said you two had made some sort of deal before he…" He trailed off, clearly expecting Mr. Hanover to finish for him.

He took the bait. "Yes, of course. I'm so sorry to hear about your father, Draco. He will be well missed." He cleared his throat. "But I'm afraid we never had any kind of deal…"

I pinched his elbow lightly and, getting my hint, Draco said, "I'm sorry for the confusion. Please let me know if you're interested in hiring Malfoy Consulting."

"I am sorry about your father," Mr. Hanover said loudly as we left his presence.

"It's not him," I said. "No increase in heartbeat, no sweat on the upper brow. He's not lying."

"And how would you know that?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Sense heightening charm, of course." I paused. "Interesting, though. Mr. Hanover is gay."

"Gay? He's married," Draco protested, winding his way through the multitudes of guests.

"He couldn't stop staring at your arse as we left," I said, shrugging, and he burst into laughter.

"You never cease to amaze me, Hermione Granger," he commented as he apparated me home. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"Don't get too excited," I told him. "We have a lot of work to do tomorrow. There's no time for humor."

The mirth disappeared from his face as he nodded solemnly. "Tomorrow, the real work begins." He pulled out his wand. "Goodnight, Granger."

As he disappeared on the spot, I walked into my flat, changing out of my dress and turning off the lights. But I couldn't sleep for hours.