So recently I remembered that I'm supposed to put a disclaimer on these things, so here it is:

I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. Unfortunately. They belong to the genius that is J.K Rowling.

The next few days were spent were in front of the pensieve and the spread I created on the wall of Draco's living room. During the day, I spent my time going over what Narcissa's memory had captured, which hadn't been much. The memory only captured a glimpse of the attacker, which apparently was all Narcissa saw before she was cursed. Draco had been able to extract the partial memory, because it hadn't been eliminated through obliviation.

When Draco got home, I was watching the memory for the hundredth time that day. He set his jacket on the leather chair and asked me if I knew how Narcissa was doing.

"She's still sleeping," I replied distractedly. "We probably have a few hours before she wakes up."

"Any luck on the memory?"

I played it again. There was a small, muffled thump, and then a scratching sound. There was a few seconds of silence before a scream (presumably Narcissa's) that cut off relatively abruptly. I paused the memory as a figure flew in view. "There," I said. "That's our attacker."

"Dressed in black in the dead of night," he said dryly. "Helpful."

"But I was able to get some information from it," I continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Look at the attacker. Seems to be very short; clearly in flat shoes, because they weren't making a sound. I would guess about five feet two, five feet three inches."

"So either a very short man or a regular-sized woman," he inserted.

I pointed at the hooded figure's chest. "And see that glint? That's silver. A silver chain. I couldn't get a full view of it, but it seems delicate and thin. And the attacker has to pull up the edge of the robe to keep from stepping on it."

"It's a woman," he concluded.

"That doesn't tell us anything, though," I sighed. "The attacker could be on Polyjuice."

"Why would they bother?" he asked. "She, or he, didn't use any disillusionment charms, and expected the curse to erase her memory of the event. There was no point in using Polyjuice."

"You're right," I said. I twirled my wand in my fingers, thinking back to what I'd read about pensieves and enhancing memories. "I know that the necklace is shown in the memory, but I'm not sure how to illuminate the view."

"Here," he said, pulling out his wand. "Videre," he whispered, and his wand glowed slightly as the picture lit up the tiniest bit. We still couldn't view the attacker's face, or any other features, but when we paused the memory the right way, we could see the necklace.

"The pendant is red," he realized, lowering his wand.

"It's a locket with a rose on it," I told him. "Very distinct. And now we just need to find it."

"Simple," he said sarcastically.

I shrugged. "Have the draft in front of me of the female business rivals of your father. I think we can safely assume it's a woman at this point."

He nodded. I had a list in front of me an hour later (an hour of aimlessly watching the illuminated memory again and again).

There were ten women on the list. I placed their pictures on the wall, and Draco explained to me one by one who each of the women were.

He first pointed to a woman with a short blonde pixie haircut and icy blue eyes. "Her name is Isabella Hanover. Vice President of Hanover Corporations, daughter of Mr. Hanover. Absolutely despises my father, ever since he worked at Hanover with her."

"You slept with her," I said, knowing there was probably a ridiculous grin on my face.

He raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"You blushed when you saw her picture," I said nonchalantly. "And you crossed your legs."

Clearly he thought he was stealthier than that, because he scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Fine," I replied slyly, crossing my ankles as if I was completely innocent in all of this. "I'll get the story eventually."

"Well," he said brusquely, letting out a breath. "I think we can move on, can't we?"

"We start with Isabella," I agreed. "We have to go to her house if we want to find the locket."

"You want me to get a house visit?" he said incredulously. "It's not as if Hanover and I are friends…"

"It doesn't matter. He called about making a deal to 'modernize' his business, didn't he? Ask him to hold a get-together."

"We can visit his company," he mused. "She's bound to keep the necklace in her office, considering she has to wear it often enough to wear it when she's attacking my parents."

I shrugged. "We only have a small window. We need the party to be within a few days."

"All the women on this list are from either Hanover," he carefully rearranged the pictures into groups and labeled one of them Hanover, "or Briggs and Associates. Six of them knew him directly, and four of them were screwed over by him."

"Fine," I said. "If you can just convince Hanover that he should improve relations with Briggs and Associates…"

"Through a party," he finished. He yawned suddenly, blinking his eyes awake. I cast a quick Tempus to check the time.

"It's midnight," I told him. "I think I'd better go home."

"And feel free to sleep in tomorrow morning," he said. "You can come in the afternoon, yeah?"

"Draco, do you know how much money you're paying me?" I asked. "I'll get here in the morning like I always do. So don't expect me to just show up here in the afternoon."

"Well, frankly, I don't care what you do," he replied. "Just get out, Granger." His teasing smirk softened the blow. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," I yawned, and quickly apparated home on the spot.

Alex came to my flat at ten in the morning, carrying a pastry bag and dressed in a breezy white sundress. When she saw me, she took off her sunglasses and smiled. I couldn't help but notice the dark bruises under her eyes. "Are you alright?" I asked, as I reflected how impossibly unfair it was how great she looked any hour of the day.

She shrugged. "I just have a slight cold." She slid around me and waltzed into the flat, turning around and holding up the pastry bag. "I got you some chocolate croissants."

I was about to comment that there was Pepper Up specifically designed to get rid of the common cold, but I was distracted by the word chocolate. "Honestly, Alex, you're an angel."

"You look as exhausted as I do," she commented. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, I was just working late with Draco."

She cocked her head to the side curiously. "Why were you with Draco? Don't you usually have the night shift on Thursdays?"

"Oh, yeah, I haven't told you," I remembered. "He hired me for a job."

She raised her eyebrows. "A job?"

I quickly explained the circumstances of Draco's offer, furiously digging into the chocolate croissant. When I was finished, she started rubbing her temples. "Hermione," she said slowly, "you do realize that there is a very small probability of you finding this cure?"

I sighed, wondering idly if I had any coffee left in the house. "I do."

"I can't believe you even agreed to this. Did you think about how awful you'll feel if you don't find the cure?"

Of course I'd thought about it. I'd agonized about it. I'd tossed and turned in bed, pondering what would happen in only a week and a half. Picturing a ticking clock in my head. I had thought about it all. But I couldn't have refused. I knew that I could do it, if anyone could. And I was the one that allowed his father to die. I nodded.

"You know you're not responsible for this," she said quietly. "You don't have to feel as if you have to do this."

"You didn't hear the offer," I told her. "And it's the least I could do for him."

She shrugged, sipping her cappuccino daintily. "I think…" She was interrupted by a violent cough. The coffee cup dropped from her hand as she doubled over with large, hacking coughs. I frantically rushed into the kitchen to grab a bottle of Pepper Up.

"Here." I handed it to her, and she accepted it gratefully.

"Thanks," she whispered, her voice rough with abuse. "Sorry about that."

"That doesn't sound like a normal cough," I told her worriedly.

She shook her head. "I know you're the Healer and all, Hermione, but I promise that I'm fine." She drank a few more drops before I yanked it out of her hands. We were magical, but it wasn't as if we were invincible.

"Sure. Because all of my patients come to the hospital telling me exactly what they are inflicted with," I said, smirking when she glared at me.

"Don't you have to go play Sherlock Holmes with a certain blond-haired sex god?" she asked crossly, bending down and picking up her discarded coffee cup.

"Funny, I thought you were about to get married to the most famous-not to mention most desirable-wizard in the UK," I said.

She shrugged. "Just because I have Harry doesn't mean I can't admire other male specimen. Especially Draco. That man is unbelievably gorgeous."

I blushed. It wasn't like I had thought about him like that before… it was just that it was ridiculous that Alex thought about him like that. Yes, that sounded right. "You're preposterous."

"Oh, are we pulling out the SAT vocabulary words now?" she said snarkily. "I notice you only do that when you're embarrassed."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, I've got to get to Draco's. I'll be off."

She waggled her eyebrows. "Have fun." She paused, and asked if I was going to be attending Ginny's party the next night. "She specifically asked me if you and Draco would come," she elaborated. "And it looks like it'll be the event of the season."

I shook my head. "We have a lot of work to do."

"Suspects will probably be at the party," she suggested. "Maybe you could cover ground there."

I told her I would ask Draco and apparated to the Manor. It turned out he had convinced Mr. Hanover to hold the business gala at his mansion on the outskirts of London, so it would be in our best interests to go to the party.

I, for one, was against it. There were only too many times a girl could handle dressing to the nines in a week. It looked like I was going to have to get another high-end, floor length gown with toe-piching heels.

Oh, well. At least we'd make some progress in the investigation.

"I am so glad you could make it," Ginny said, smiling at me benignly as she clasped hands with Blaise. She looked absolutely stunning in her midnight blue dress, which cascaded down in the floor with fading feathers. "We remodeled the parlor; do you love it?"

"Of course I love it, Ginny," I said. She had turned it into a space with a neutral, minimalist feel.

"Honestly, it's gorgeous," Alex commented. "Is that an original Degas sketch?"

Blaise grinned. "Only the best for my darling wife."

Ginny laughed, her sparkling white teeth shining in the dark-lit room. "Oh, sweetie, you're such a flirt."

We met up with Pansy and Katie, who were dressed in effortlessly sexy gowns. Katie's lips were once again dressed in glossy red lipstick, and her pale, luminescent skin glowed under the chandelier. "It's good to see you guys again," I told them. Pansy pulled Draco aside immediately, and Katie and I engaged in small talk about our days at Hogwarts. Katie was as charming and likeable as I remembered, and I promised her that we would meet for coffee.

As I turned around, I noticed a gorgeous woman with blonde hair in elegant ringlets down her back, which was visible because of her completely backless shimmer dress. I saw Draco immediately stiffen, and Pansy's eyes narrow. The identity of the blonde-haired woman hung in the back of my mind, but I couldn't identify her.

"Oh, no," said Katie. "What on earth is Astoria Greengrass doing here?"

"Astoria Greengrass?" And then it clicked. "Draco's ex-wife." I'd heard about their divorce from reading the papers. Since Draco was such a high-profile businessman, every dirty detail had been covered by the reporters from the Daily Prophet. Most of them claimed that Astoria had cheated on Draco, and Draco had discovered it before demanding a divorce.

"I'm surprised Ginny invited her," she murmured. "Honestly. I haven't seen her since the divorce."

Astoria suddenly turned her head and looked at Draco and Pansy before averting her eyes and continuing to speak to Ginny, although she was visibly tenser.

"I don't think…"

And then there was a thump. Every person in the room turned towards the sound. Alex had fallen to the ground, her elegant black dress pooling around her. Harry immediately rushed to her side, while I ran towards her and performed a quick diagnostics charm.

"What's wrong with her?" he demanded of me.

The charm came up clean; not a single indication of poor health. "Nothing," I answered, bewildered. "Maybe her classes have been stressful on her and she's been experiencing extreme fatigue."

Ginny rushed up behind us with Blaise in tow. "Is she alright?"

"She should be fine. I will have to apparate with her to St. Mungo's."

"Of course, darling."

I gave her a quick hug. "Thank you for having us over, Ginny. I apologize for the spectacle."

"It's hardly anyone's fault. And you are free to come over anytime. In fact, fire call me later; we can set up dinner."

"That would be lovely," I said earnestly, and quickly got Alex and I to the hospital.

"She fainted," I told Kieran when we entered the emergency room. I had a weightless charm on her so that she floated behind me. "I performed the standard diagnostics test, and nothing is appearing. I'm assuming it is normal fatigue and stress…"

"We'll take care of her, Hermione," Kieran said. "If you want to go back to your party, I completely understand."

"No, of course not. I will be staying here with Alex."

He smiled. "Of course. How could I have ever thought you would do anything else?"

We performed the necessary tests on Alex, but they all turned up completely normal. She woke up within an hour, a little woozy but otherwise coherent. Kieran recommended she stay at home, but Alex refused, saying she had classes to attend.

"Are you sure you're alright?" I pressed. "You have to admit this is a little worrisome."

"I'm fine," she insisted. "I'm just a little overworked."

And, for once, I listened to her. After all, Alex was just as knowledgeable about health as I was.

I had work to do in the morning. I didn't have time to worry about her.