Hi!

So, I usually hate author's notes, but I really want to thank all of the people who keep reading this crazy story. I know the updates are sporadic, and I should be keeping on a stricter schedule, but oh well. I was never that great at keeping on a schedule.

Breaking News: Lucius Malfoy receives five years house arrest without magic for his war crimes. Lucius Malfoy, charged with multiple accounts of torture, claims his involvement was entirely under the Imperius curse. Wife Narcissa declined comment.

Son Draco Malfoy, recently cleared of all charges against him, commented that "I'm not surprised the Wizengamot let him off so easily. Their pockets are too full for them to come up with an actual punishment."

When asked if he was accusing his father and the Wizengamot of bribery, he declined to comment.

I decided it was time for Harry and Draco to bury the hatchet.

They had consistently refused to look or speak to each other about anything besides the case. Clearly Draco had forgiven me (which I was still mystified by) but he hadn't forgiven Harry. And it wasn't as if Harry was trying very hard to put the past behind him, either. So I came up with an idea that would probably give me a lot of grief, but at this point I was desperate.

I summoned their wands and locked them in the interrogation room.

They immediately turned around and started shouting at me to let them out, but I only cast a volume charm on my voice and said, "Until you learn to work out your differences, I'm keeping you in here."

"Or we could just knock down the door," Harry muttered.

"Good luck with that," I said lightly, leaning back in my chair. "The door is as strong as steel. Now, I suggest you start talking."

I waited. They still refused to speak to each other, folding their arms and looking away.

"I'll start," I said. "Harry, why don't you tell Draco why you were so awful to him that day in the hospital?"

"I wasn't awful to him," he protested.

"No, you were just being the same arse you've always been," Draco replied, shrugging. "I really shouldn't have been surprised."

"I'm the arse?" Harry asked. "You started it."

"How? By existing?"

"You're the one who paid my best friend to let my fiancée die!"

"Are you really that much of an imbecile?" Draco asked disbelievingly. "I paid her to help my mother, not to abandon Alex! I knew she was going to help both of them!"

"You should have let her focus on Alex."

"And let my mother die? Do you realize how incredibly selfish you sound?"

"That's rich, coming from you."

"It's funny how I'm supposed to be the selfish one, and you expect everyone to bow at your feet."

Harry laughed sardonically. "Fuck off, Malfoy. I don't have to listen to this."

I cleared my throat. "Actually, you do."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Listen, Granger, this isn't going to happen. Why don't you just let us out, and we can do actual work?"

"Or," I said, as if I was contemplating something, "I could just leave you two here and do work on my own. Which is what I'm going to do if you two don't work it out in about five minutes."

"Well, Potter, why don't you just apologize and we can get this over with?" Draco asked, finally looking at him.

"Why do I need to apologize?"

"It's incredible that you're asking that. Why can't you just be mature for once and apologize for being an arse?"

"I never asked you to apologize for being an arse for eight years," Harry pointed out.

"But I did. And it wasn't as if you were any better."

"Fine. I'm sorry for what I said in the hospital," he said, holding out his hand. "Mates?"

Draco reached out and shook his hand. "You pull that kind of shit again and I'll punch you instead of shaking your hand. Agreed?"

Harry laughed. "Agreed."

I spelled the door unlocked. "Great, now that that's settled, we can actually get to work."

We received notice that Alex was awake and asking for us, so we apparated to the hospital, completely baffled as to why she had asked for us. Most of the time, she was delusional; she could recognize faces and voices, but her memory went in and out. The Healers also told me that she was in a ton of pain, and her heart was getting weaker and weaker. They warned us not to tell her any shocking news, because her health was fragile enough as it is.

Apparently today was one of her more coherent days, because she was sitting up in her hospital bed, squinting at us as we entered her room. "Draco and Hermione," she said quietly. "I feel like I've been in here for years."

I sat down next to her, grabbing her hand in mine. "Don't worry, Alex. You won't be in here much longer."

"I'm going to die, Hermione," she told me, looking straight into my eyes. "My heart is going to give out before you'll be able to find the cure. When they told me what was wrong we knew what was going to happen."

"Alex," I said fiercely, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, "I'm not going to let you die."

"You don't have a choice," she replied softly. "I might have a couple of days if I'm lucky. You know that."

"Well, then, it's going to be a miracle."

"I called you in here because I knew I'd only have a little time before I drifted out of sanity," she insisted. "And I wanted you to know that it won't be your fault if I die in here, because you tried so hard to save me."

"It doesn't matter if I try. Only if I succeed," I said stubbornly.

"I just don't want you to look back on this and think about what you could have done, Hermione."

I stood up, grabbing my coat. "I won't have to look back on anything if I get the cure."

She refused to look at me, keeping her head down. "Come on, Draco," I said. "We're going to the Manor."

The first thing I did when we got back to the Manor was grab a vase off of a nightstand and throw it at the wall.

Red tinged the edges of my vision and my body felt as if I could run a marathon. I was just so angry. Angry at Alex for giving up. Angry at Draco for being stupidly attractive and compelling. Angry at Harry for blaming Draco and me for Alex's health. And, most of all, angry at myself for failing time and time again. Two lives were on the line, and I still couldn't do anything right.

Another vase was the next victim, and then a lamp, and then a wineglass. Watching them shatter on the wall was somehow satisfying. It was true that breaking things was more fun than building them up.

"You know," Draco commented, casually leaning against the door frame, "I will have to replace those."

"Take it out of my paycheck," I said sarcastically, and threw a particularly ugly glass figurine.

"Watching them thrown onto my wall makes me realize how unattractive they were," he noted. "I never got rid of them because my mother loves that lamp and the vases were family heirlooms."

I somehow registered that family heirlooms meant they were probably priceless, but I couldn't even bother to care. "Shouldn't you be checking on Narcissa?"

"Tell me what this is about," he said flatly.

"Alex is not going to die," I told him, opting to conjure a glass vase and throw it against the wall. "I'm not going to let her die."

"I know you're not."

"No one believes I can do it, but I can."

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I sank down onto the floor, holding my face in my hands as I cried. I hadn't cried in years. Not since Ron had walked out of my life, leaving my heart in pieces. It felt as if a dam had opened up to my grief. I'd lost so many people in my life. During the war I'd promised myself I would never break down, because I had to keep going. Keep moving. But this was another war altogether.

He had his arms around me, his scent surrounding me as I let it all out. I'd never pictured Draco as a touchy-feely person; in fact, I figured he'd rather Stupefy himself than try to comfort me. But I let him. The embrace was a bit stiff and uncomfortable, but I didn't expect much from a Malfoy. As my sobs subsided, I finally met his stormy grey eyes. And then I knew. It astonished me, how far we've come in the last few months. Months ago, he was still a lousy little ferret. But here we were. That same ferret was now gently wiping away my tears and brushing his lips against mine.

I decided to put Isabella Hanover and Paige Vallis in the same room together, trying to nail out which one of them had the greater likelihood of going after Draco. I figured they could also have been working together on this, considering Isabella had claimed they were such good friends.

"I'm going to ask you again," I said slowly. "I know you two saw the notes that Astoria had on her desk."

"Yes," Isabella repeated, just as slowly. "But that's not a question."

"Pansy claimed one of them set a meeting place. And you two say you saw the same. Where was the meeting place?"

"I can't remember," Isabella said, narrowing her eyes at me. I wondered if Draco would be able to tell if she was lying if he was here.

"Neither can I," Paige added, folding her arms. "And you really think we killed her?"

Astoria had been pronounced missing three hours ago by the Aurors. She'd been gone from her apartment in London for over three days, and according to her friends, she wasn't answering any firecalls and hadn't been spotted anywhere in the city. I had no doubt this had something to do with the woman she'd had an affair with. Astoria was most likely a liability to the killer.

"There's no evidence that she was murdered. I just need to know where she would go," I explained.

"How do you know she went with that woman? She could just be taking a vacation," Paige pointed out.

"Well, it's our only lead," I said stubbornly, but the truth was that it was just a gut feeling. If I found Astoria, I could find the killer. "You two are lying. So just tell me what the location was and I can find her."

"We already told you-"

"I can keep you here as long as I want," I said, straightening up. "So we're going to be here as long as I like. And I am very patient."

Paige exhaled. "There was never an actual address on the notes."

I tilted my head. What was that supposed to mean? "Then what was it?"

She shook her head. "All it said was 'let's meet in the place where love and loss collide'."

I almost laughed. It sounded like something out of a badly written romance novel. "Well, that certainly doesn't help me."

"Those notes were ridiculous, and we all know it. Whoever had an affair with Draco's vapid ex wanted her for her money," Isabella said.

"What do you have against Astoria, Ms. Hanover? Are you jealous?" I asked, unable to resist. My mood was strangely giddy, and I felt like bouncing off the walls.

"Of Astoria? Of course not. He never cared for her in the first place." Her eyes locked onto mine. "Draco tends to get into relationships he lives to regret."

"Well, I can think of a few examples," I emphasized, smirking. Her teeth audibly clicked together, and I felt her glare as I turned to Paige. "Do you remember anything else about Astoria that would help me find her? Did she say somewhere she wanted to go, someone she wanted to go with?"

"I didn't know her all that well," Paige said, maintaining eye contact. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

And there it was: I had nothing. I was at a dead end.

Harry, luckily, was there to investigate Astoria's disappearance. He was just as convinced her location was the key to finding the killer, which made me feel much less crazy. It was true that the notes were our only lead; Astoria hadn't taken anything with her, hadn't left a note, and hadn't told any of her friends where she had gone. It pretty much screamed of a kidnapping.

Draco joined us about twenty minutes later. He had stayed home because Narcissa had been having another one of her episodes. He suggested we start at one of Astoria's favorite places to get away: the London Magical Library. Draco agreed to stay at the Department, and Harry and I apparated to the library.

The second we walked in the door, an older woman came running. "I was about to call the Aurors," she panted. "The woman they pronounced missing… she's here."

She was right. Astoria was half-lying on a table, pulling her head up when I shook her shoulder. When I saw her face, I gasped. There was a trickle of blood coming from her nose, and her eyes wouldn't focus on me.

"She told me I had to drink it," she whispered, her voice scratchy and almost inaudible.

"Astoria? Astoria, listen to me," I said, grabbing her face and turning it to mine. "Who did this to you?"

But it was too late. Her eyes slid shut, and her body fell limp.

The Aurors had taken Astoria's body to the Department for processing. They were going to call her family and ask them to identify her, but we all knew that someone had killed her. It was no use. The murderer was eliminating every lead, every chance we had to save Alex and Narcissa.

I decided to head back to my flat. The rain beat down on my head as I shook out my umbrella before turning to my porch. To my surprise, Ginny was sitting on it, staring at the ground as if the meaning of life was written on it.

"Ginny," I said, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

She closed her eyes and exhaled, standing up. When she opened her eyes, I could see she'd been crying. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little vial filled with deep purple liquid, rolling it around in her fingers.

"What's that?" I asked, interested. Obviously it was a potion, but why did she seem so sober about it?

"It's an antidote."

I cocked my head to the side. "To what?"

"To the poison I gave Alex," she said, locking her eyes onto mine.