Welcome to yet another chapter. Sorry this took forever, I went to camp for two weeks.
Also, school starts on the fifth for me, so updates may slow then. Or it could be like NaNo and I'll write like crazy. We'll see.
Abbily has not come back to me, but Couture did. Also, Milly the house-elf is her lovely creation and you all should worship her for letting me use her, and for letting me base my Theodore on her own.
YOu might also notice a lack of Draco. I couldn't think of anything new for him to do XD
Harry had been right, Scamander had needed to talk to her, but what everyone tended to forget was that Scamander was deathly shy about talking to most women. She had come in for two days straight. She worked Saturdays, so it was now day three, lunch break, and now Scamander was finally approaching her.
He was wringing his hands, shuffling his feet, cheeks permanently pink. "I-I-I-I need to talk to you," he whispered to the carpet. Hermione scanned her eyes over him, searching for a weapon, but his wand was hanging from his side and there was nothing else. She cleared files off a stool. "Take a seat."
"Um-Thank... You, I think I'll stand," he said in a rush. Hermione nodded and set the files back on the stool, reaching over to stir a potion (three times, clockwise).
"Might as well get it over with, Scamander, before you pass out on my lab floor."
He nodded, swallowed several times with several more deep breaths. "Luna's missing, she hasn't written home in over a week, I'm worried."
Luna was the only female Scamander wasn't shy around, the only one who didn't make him into a blushing schoolboy, and the two were also sharing a flat (Albite with two bedrooms, but everyone assumed they were dating. How could it be anything else?)
"Why are you telling me, exactly?"
"B-Because you're smart and you're good at finding people and if she's just caught up in visiting phoenixes I don't want to panic everybody, she won't like that."
"So you want me to find your girlfriend," she stated flatly.
Instantly, his blush lessened. "We're not dating and we're not going to, I'm three years older than her! How many times do I have to say it! We're sharing because of rent-"
"And meshing interests, I know. I still don't believe it."
"You don't believe a lot of things," Scamander snapped, which seemed to drain quite a lot of his bravery, but he didn't correct his statement.
"I'm... Sorry?" Hermione said, blinking.
Was this really Scamander? She ran a fingertip over the carved handle of her wand.
"You don't believe it's really your coworkers back from lunch-you vet all of them first, you don't believe everything's not poisoned, you check it before even picking it up, you think everyone's an enemy in disguise you don't believe anything, you're controlled by paranoia!"
All the color drained from his face, he tossed some files on the lab table and fled.
She checked the files for spells, quickly, rolling her eyes at what he said. She was paranoid, but she wasn't controlled by it.
Was she?
Scamander, at least, was thorough. There was information on where she went-why Germany-hotels and other places she could have stayed at, what she would be doing, her latest health records listing her height, weight, hair and eye color, a map of the area she had said she was going to, and not a hint of why Scamander was so worried. Luna wandered to places all the time without telling people, why was he scared now?
She shoved the files in her bag and finished her lunch, quickly devouring her sandwich. Packing up, she sighed as she looked around the wreck of the lab, wishing she could have stayed to organize it, but her boss had informed her an hour ago that he couldn't afford to pay her overtime for the next week, and that she really needed to go home as soon as possible. She left a new stack of notes for the lab crew and put the potion on to cool with the strands of mane and hoof clippings. They'd be ready by Monday.
Then she went home to wreck her flat.
. . .
The floor was covered in newspaper clippings, the table in articles and photos were taped in columns on the wall. It looked like a stalker-shrine to Draco Malfoy and Luna Lovegood.
Hermione was searching for any possible connection. So far, there was nothing, but she was developing a theory connecting the headache behind her eyes and all the paper she had been staring blankly at for the last several hours.
She groaned and slammed her head on the table, forehead crinkling against an article about one of Luna's animal discoveries. She was getting nowhere, there was no connection, but she would have to look for one anyway. Stupid paperwork... Hermione pulled her head up a little and peeled the article off her skin.
She was tempted to go visit Neville, investigate how his gardens and teacher-training were going, but a bolt of overwhelming tiredness slid over her. She blearily stared at the clock-ten. It was ten, apparently. She yawned, feeling like her jaw would crack, and stumbled over the clipping-covered carpet to the couch, sweeping it clear with a lethargic wave of her wand.
She was asleep in an instant,
Her eyes opening to the sight of the ceiling of the Drawing Room. It looked blue in the light, fine cracks on the surface. The cracks moved, convoluted into a strange shape, becoming the face of Bellatrix Lestrange.
Hermione shrieked, sobbing, but her limbs were tied so tightly to the floor, stiff...
She was laughing, laughing loud, a twisted sound of delight.
"So, little mudblood..." Her voice was silky until the last syllable, where it cracked in more insane laughter.
Hermione shrieked again, a name this time. Bellatrix's face hadn't moved from the ceiling, but it spread, more cracks becoming her hair. Harry stepped over her, Ron, Neville, Lavender, Luna, Ginny, so many people gathering around her.
"It's your fault they recognized us," Harry said. "Remember? 'Look, it's the mudblood from the paper.'" His voice, calm, venomous. It ripped at her, pain in her chest.
Then they pulled out their wands.
She screamed now, pain wracking her body, as a decorative column became Bellatrix's arm, the word "Crucio!" ringing in the air.
The cracks solidified, and the chandelier swung before it came crashing down on her-
Hermione woke up screaming with the dawn.
Gasping in air, she looked around wildly, searching for something, anything-a friend, an enemy, something.
Nothing but paper and drips of sunlight oozing into the room.
She scrambled off the couch, hurriedly straightening her clothes, shaky hands grasping her wand. She needed to keep busy, she couldn't sleep, she couldn't...
Harry's voice had been so calm, like he thought about all the time, something he'd come to terms with how to handle...
"I think I'll interview Nott," she said out loud, stuffing recording devices in her purse. "Yes, that will do." She picked up her brush from the table, raking it through her curls before making a messy bun of it, stacking all the articles and newspaper clippings by hand, ripping the photos off the wall and setting them in a pile.
She missed Crookshanks.
She missed tripping over his food bowl early in the morning and his warm weight on her legs as she slept, how he'd lick her face gently after a nightmare.
Hermione shuddered slightly, emotions stirring up inside as she measured out the coffee grounds, watching the liquid percolate before pouring it all into a travel mug, with a second one of water. The fridge held nothing but some old takeout, the cupboards had only a few cans.
She would eat after, she assured herself-silently, this time.
She busied herself again, organizing books and sorting the articles by publication date and title, wiping down the counter with the remains of a well-loved shirt, glancing at the ticking clock.
When she finally deemed it late enough that he wouldn't panic about arrest, she gathered her purse and magically smoothed a few wrinkles in her clothes, turning into an apparation.
As a high-ranking auror, (Though she wasn't quite sure how she had earned the position) she had direct apparating access to the Nott Family Manor. Most of said high-ranking aurors forgot about the place entirely.
It had once been beautiful, Hermione could tell, and she stared. The high windows, delicate carvings everywhere in the stone, the so many stories-it was like a small castle from a fairy tale.
If that fairy tale had been abandoned. The garden around her was overgrown, choked with weeds and decay, grass beneath her feet over what had once been a gravel walkway. The manor was in disrepair, cracked and shattered stone and a broken window in sight, like it had been forgotten for a hundred years.
Hermione ruefully wondered if she had to play Sleeping Beauty's prince, a strange smile on her lips as she walked quickly up the once-path to a door. She knocked once and it opened as she began to swing again.
The house-elf was small and old and its violet eyes quickly schooled themselves in a scowl, bat-like ears flattening against her head.
"Master bes doing nothing wrong! Miss will leaves now! How dares Miss blame Master Theo! Master Theo's nots left Master's room in a long time! Aurors break Master!"
Hermione, the entire time, tried to get a word in edgewise, and tried to use this pause, but-
"And Milly nots want to be free! How dare Miss!"
The door nearly slammed.
Hermione distinctly felt like she was arguing with a grouchy old neighbor, wondering if next she'd be yelled at for throwing a rock at the broken window and how her mother had better pay.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled her shoulders back, knocking again.
"I'm not here to arrest! Nott's not in trouble!" She ignored how awkwardly that sentence fell off her tongue.
The door opened. "And he's keeping nothing illegal! Miss nots searching Master's home again!"
"I'm here for his help, you crotchety old elf!"
Milly gave her the evil eye.
"Miss insult Milly. Why shouls Milly trust Miss?"
She opened her mouth to snap a line about being an auror and then shut it.
"I need to learn about Draco Malfoy. I swear on my wand, no harm will come to Nott, I will not insult him or use anything here against him."
Milly tapped her foot.
"And I won't even mention freeing elves, there, you happy?"
Milly grudgingly opened the door, letting her into a hall, heavily shadowed. The curtains were drawn over all the windows, from the vaulting ceilings to the carpeted floor.
The air was musty, heavy with silence, and though clean, heartbreak was soaked in and the shards of a broken soul lay everywhere.
Milly led her down the hall, into another, up a staircase to a door where Milly made her wait a little further down the hall.
A few charms and Hermione peered into the room.
Nott was sitting on the floor, head resting on the seat of an armchair. There was a bottle of firewhiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other, and his face turned towards the ceiling-though whether he saw it was debatable.
The room was a bedroom, and the entire place was in disarray-the pillows weren't even on the bed, blankets half-draped over the hearth and carpet, clothing scattered everywhere amidst photos and paintings and shattered crystal and china.
Yet, oddly, it didn't feel like a drunkard's room-until she noticed Milly was vanishing some empty bottles and ends of cigars, the full ashtray emptying with a flick of a finger as she began to sort and fold shirts.
Almost all of the clothing was black, she noticed.
"Up now, Master has a visitor, the sun has risen and older Master is locked away! Master Theodore is safe."
What an odd thing to say.
Nott groaned, a hungover sound, and he peeled his head off the chair.
"Up, Master! Milly cares nots if yous head aches! Master has a visitor! Up! Changing time!" She held up a black dress shirt identical to the one he was wearing. He began to unbutton with fumbling hands. Hermione politely looked away.
"Nows the potion, yous help the hangover!"
Hangover potions only dulled the effects, but anything more and it started damaging the liver instead of healing it.
"What am I doing?" he finally asked.
"Miss Granger bes here! She needs yous help!"
"Tell her to go fuck herself up the arse with her wand."
"No! Miss Granger has promised Master Theo's safety! She promise on her wand!"
"Fine, I'll listen to Her Majesty. I hope this is worth it."
She quickly dropped the charms, stepping back into her original position. Hermione put on her best bored expression as Milly opened the door farther to let her on.
Nott was sitting in the chair, instead of against it, green eyes dead, a cigarette lit. He wasn't picky about how he killed his lungs, apparently.
"What's this about, Granger? You've disturbed some lovely drinking time."
She sat down carefully in the offered chair. "I need information on Draco Malfoy. He's been missing from home for almost a year. Since Slytherins have six different personalities with the same name, I decided that talking to some of his peers would help me understand where he might be hiding. The sooner we're done, the sooner you can drink yourself into a bed in St. Mungo's Hospice Ward." She set up her recording devices with ease.
He took a drag, waiting for her to finish. His other hand twitched around a shotglass. Hermione set the dictating quill to work.
"Stupid. Draco was stupid."
"Yes, I know that, but could you perhaps elaborate?"
He chuckled. "He was stupid in the social sense. He started out all right, but somewhere along the way he got these stupid ideas and he tripped over his arrogance every time he walked. He started to learn a little too late. Know what a mess he was in sixth year?"
"No, and I don't care. My job is to find him, not host a pity party."
Nott rolled his eyes and took another drag. The scent of the smoke was now heavy in the air. She held back a cough and breathed lightly.
"He liked attention and people, maybe it was some sort of drug for him, a distraction or reward. He was always bragging or complaining or pulling a stunt or telling a story. He called you Princess-"
"Master! We nots use that word!"
Nott looked slightly embarrassed at being chided by his elf in front of a practical stranger. Or possibly just embarrassed.
"He usually shortened it to Princess."
"Uh huh. On topic."
"That is on topic, Princess. He nicknamed people, he interchanged last and first names, insults were the new nickname. It's a wonder he even remembered Potter's real name."
Hermione set her head in her hand. "You talk to walls to hear your own voice, don't you?"
"I'm not narcissistic, Granger. Please, ask more questions."
"Did you know he took up drinking too? Was he a drinker before Azkaban?"
He stared at her a moment, those flat eyes broody. A single eyebrow slowly raised.
"Are we talking about the same person? Draco didn't drink, he volunteered to be lookout after the first few experiences. Prick couldn't hold his firewhiskey, I bet." He looked down at the half-empty bottle of firewhiskey on the floor. "Aren't you supposed to be paranoid?"
"Your home looks like the set of a haunted mansion, your room is wreck, you look like you haven't showered in a week, your elf has your wand and sobriety is very obviously not a frequent visitor here. I'd be surprised if you could stand, Nott."
Glaring was perhaps too much effort, as he gave her a stare only on the edges of angry.
There were scars on his neck, following down below onto his chest, one crawling all the way up to just below his ear-or behind. She noted it and wondered if that ear still worked.
He heaved himself up with effort, his legs unsteady. "I'm not weak, Granger."
A lie. She began to pack up. A useless fifteen minutes.
Then she paused and pulled out a photo of Luna.
"Have you seen this woman?" she asked Milly. "Luna likes to wander when she visits places, and her flatmate is wondering why she's not written in a week."
Milly shook her head. "Milly seens no one. Master?"
Nott stared at the photo, Luna smiled serenely back. "She's lost?"
"Possibly. It's also possible she's just so caught up in learning the ways of-I think she called them Schrat-"
"The moss-people? That's just a collection of myths, faeries running around the woods and escaping the Wild Hunt by merging with trees."
"Well no wonder she's looking, Luna confirms faery tales. She proved the existence of nargles."
"Milly will tells crazy witch to owl if Milly sees her. Miss Granger will leave." She folded the last shirt. "Miss Granger will leave the photo, Milly's memory not whats it used to be."
The photo was taken and Milly, quite strong for her age, began pushing and pulling her down the halls and stairs. Hermione found herself at the door to the grounds before she was quite aware what was happening.
"Bye now, Miss, be nots disturbing Master again soon."
The door slammed.
Hermione blinked and apparated to go check with some hotels, a little confused.
Geez, Theo and Hermione acted a bit like brother and sister XD* I look forward to writing more of his elf, though.
*This is not a plot device. Calm thy epileptic trees.