A/N: So I didn't get quite as far in the story as I planned to in this chapter, so for those of you who pm'ed me asking questions and I said, 'Oh yeah, that will be answered/explained in the next chapter', that very well might have been a lie. Sorry :-)
So I have this friend who has me on 'author alert', but doesn't have this story on 'story alert', and she hasn't been receiving emails when I post a new chapter. So now I'm curious to know if this is just happening to her, or is it happening to everyone? If you just have me on 'author alert' and you're still getting emails please let me know! I don't like not knowing things …
That is all! :-D
As Hermione laid there on the cold, stone floor with nothing but her blanket to keep her warm, she got this horrible feeling like someone was watching her. Her eyes fluttered open and she screamed when she saw a grinning face lingering just above hers.
"Morning, bright eyes!" exclaimed Ethan, grinning even wider.
"Only for you vampires," she said, sitting up. "For everyone else in the world it's evening."
"Oh, right. I keep forgetting that." He winked. Then, after looking around to make sure they were alone - even though his vampire ears would pick up anyone's presence - Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small phial with a bright blue liquid in it. "From Pansy," he said, slipping it into her palm.
"What is it?" asked Hermione, looking down at it curiously.
"It's for the …" He paused and cleared his throat. "For the stomach."
Hermione turned her eyes on him. He avoided them. They narrowed. "She told you." It was not a question.
Ethan's mouth twisted. "Well, she had to make sure you were cared for properly since she can't be here on weekdays. And between me and Zabini, I'd say I'm the better choice."
Hermione sighed before opening the phial and drinking the liquid. Her stomach instantly felt better. She had to hand it to Pansy. Ever since she got it in her head that Hermione was pregnant, she had been making a real effort; giving her potions for her stomach, bringing her proper meals, heating the floor with her wand so it wasn't quite so freezing. Hermione got the feeling she was trying to find some sort of redemption, for the last pregnant witch she had failed to protect.
"Thank you, Ethan," she said, handing him back the empty phial.
He pocketed it. "My pleasure. I won't be able to feed you as well as Pansy did but, if you tell me what you're craving, I can try and get it for you."
"I'm not craving much of anything," she lied. "I still don't even know if I'm actually pregnant. Other than the vomiting, I haven't shown any symptoms." Another lie. At one time or another, she had shown every clichéd symptom a pregnant woman can have.
Ethan, obviously, didn't buy it. "I hear pregnant women like pickles and ice-cream. Shall I get that?"
Hermione scrunched her face. "That's disgusting." Or was it …
"Well, let me know if you change your mind." A pause. "Hey! I almost forgot!" He reached into his pocket and pulled something out.
Hermione took it and saw it was a folded copy of the Daily Prophet. She opened it up and gasped when she saw the employees of Thinx looking back at her. Her eyes focused on one in particular. She smiled.
"They've officially launched," she said proudly. She was relieved they did not put it off on her account. Merlin knew they had done that enough already.
Just looking at the photo made Hermione start to cry. She moved the paper out of the way, so as not to smear the ink. She still really wanted to read it. Ethan put a hand on her back and started patting it a bit too roughly. He wasn't very good at this. Hermione laughed a little.
"Your husband looks familiar," he said, glancing at the photo in the Prophet.
"Does he?" Hermione asked, not wanting to seem too eager to confirm her suspicions about his identity. While Draco looked most like Lucius, there was still quite a bit of Narcissa in him, as well.
"Yes. Did Pansy used to date him? I feel like she might have shown me a picture of him once."
Hermione frowned. "Yes, she did." But he was hers now.
She moved the paper back onto her lap and began to read the article. She was mentioned quite a bit in it, but mainly to explain how her husband was keeping bright spirits and had high hopes for her safe return.
Hermione smiled when she read that Thinx voluntarily provided cell phones to the Auror office to help aid in her search. Though, she was fairly certain Quinn hadn't taken one. Or the head of that department, Wiley Rosier.
The article did not mention much about what the Ministry was doing in an attempt to find her. The word 'confidential' was thrown around a lot. After reading through it once, she folded the paper so she could only see the photo. Then again so just Draco was visible.
"Do you miss him terribly?" asked Ethan.
"I do," said Hermione, tearing up again. "He doesn't look very happy in this photo, does he?"
"Well, his wife was kidnapped fairly recently. That would put a damper on anyone's day, I think."
Hermione both laughed and sniveled at the same time, this time unable to tear herself away from the photo, even as her tears dripped onto it. She felt Ethan's arm go around her shoulders, but didn't quite register it until he was pulling her into his chest.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, stroking her hair as she cried into him. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought you'd like to see the article. That's all."
"No, Ethan, it's fine. I'm glad you showed this to me. I don't think I realized how much I needed to see his face." She smiled even as she continued to weep. "Merlin, I never thought I could miss that cocky grin of his this much."
Ethan took the paper out of her hands and thoroughly studied the photo of Draco. "It does look a bit cocky, but it suits him."
"I couldn't agree more," she said, turning slightly away from his chest so she could also see the photo.
"Does he know about this?" he asked, reaching down and patting her stomach.
Hermione put her own hand on it and tried to feel if there was something alive in there, but all she found was hunger. She frowned. "No. If there is a 'this', he has absolutely no idea."
"It's probably all for the better. Don't want him to worry even more than he already is." Ethan looked down at her and smiled. "What do you say I go upstairs and rummage the freezer for some ice cream? You can describe the taste to me, since I'm told it's absolutely delightful."
Hermione chuckled. "That sounds lovely."
"And maybe if I see some pickles …"
"Absolutely not."
"Ah, come on! You might like it!"
"It's never going to happen."
"All right, fine." He pouted. "Have it your way."
Ethan gave her a soft kiss on the temple before heading upstairs at lightning speed. Unfortunately, he locked her in on the way out. As soon as he was gone, Hermione looked back at the photo of Draco and rubbed her thumb across his face. While she rather liked Ethan, she was afraid that, at times, she only ever saw him as her best means of escape. He seemed to be quite fond of her and she wondered if there was, perhaps, a way she could use that to convince him to help her get out of here.
The only thing stopping her from asking was the undying - literally - loyalty he seemed to have to the Greengrasses. Even if he did help her, she did not believe he would find himself capable of going with her, and if he stayed here it would surely be a death sentence. But she needed to get back to Draco. If a baby really was coming then they needed to figure it out together. She needed to get out of here, no matter the cost. Even if it was the life of a very sweet vampire with the face of an angel. The only question now was, could she bring herself to ask him?
XXX
Draco sat in his armchair in the drawing room, staring at the clock the Weasleys had given them, as he did every night, hoping for some change.
The only solace he found in knowing Hermione was in 'MORTAL PERIL' was that, at least, she was still alive. He had gone to the Ministry one day and sought out Arthur Weasley to confirm this, and he was very clear that when a family member dies, their name will vanish off of the clock.
It was now approaching two weeks since Hermione had disappeared and they were no closer to finding her. Past the day of Thinx's launch, Draco hadn't been able to bring himself to go to work. Hermione was supposed to be there the day their company went public. She was just as much a part of it as everyone who worked there. Definitely more so than Chastity. He hated that they had done it without her, even though he knew this was what she would have wanted.
Draco had stayed with Sophie and Phillip the previous weekend, like he had promised, but now all he wanted to do was be home, looking at the clock, begging for a change. Not the vanishing of her name. He couldn't handle it if that happened, and was pretty sure his name would be vanishing as well, shortly after. As it was, he already wanted to die for failing to protect her.
He kept thinking about the night she had disappeared. How he could have sworn he had heard her call his name. And then the clock. It had said 'TRAVELLING' when he looked at it. Was she still free then, or were her captors taking her somewhere? He had just gone upstairs several minutes earlier. Before then he had been waiting by the door for her to return. What if he had waited just five minutes longer? Would she have come in? Would she have needed help?
Draco choked on his tears as he threw his glass of firewhiskey into the fire. It erupted for a brief moment before dying back down. "Hermione," he said aloud, as he did every day, so he would never forget the sound of it.
Someone knocked on his front door. Draco took one more glance at the clock before going to answer it, opening it reluctantly. His jaw dropped a little when he saw Goyle standing on his doorstep.
"You look like hell," Goyle said with a slight smile.
"Good. Same as I feel," he said. "Any particular reason you're here?"
"Honestly," said Goyle, looking at his oldest friend, "I've had a really bad day, and I thought, 'hey, who better to get sloshed with than someone who is even more miserable than I am?'"
Draco raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Well, you've come to the right place." He opened the door wider. "Nothing but booze and misery in here."
"I knew I had," said Goyle, grinning back as he entered.
Draco guided him into the drawing room, where he took out two glasses - since he had broken his - and poured them some scotch. He was getting really tired of firewhiskey.
"How much have you already had tonight?" asked Goyle, pulling the extra armchair no one ever used over to the fireplace.
Draco took a seat in his own. "I don't even keep track anymore." He glanced up at the clock. No change. "Since you are already well aware as to why I'm miserable, why don't you tell me about your bad day?"
Goyle leaned back and took a sip of scotch. "I'm just sick of Daphne and all her bloody excuses. She never tells me where she's going, but always insists on knowing exactly where I am. She is constantly disappearing at night; don't bloody know where. And the most annoying part of it all is that she keeps insisting she wants to fix this. Swear she does care about me and wants to stay married, but nothing ever changes. I'm sick of it all." He paused and took a sip of his drink. "And it doesn't help that she is so obviously still bloody cheating on me."
Draco cocked an eyebrow. "Still?" he asked.
Goyle nodded. "She cheated on me on our wedding day. Confessed it to me in her drunken stupor that night. Still won't tell me who with, though. I assume it was some guest, but I wouldn't even know where to start looking. We had a damn big wedding."
"Do you want to know who it is, mate?" asked Draco, secretly fishing to see if he should tell his longtime friend what he knew.
Goyle thought about this. "I guess not," he said with a sigh. "Makes it slightly less real when I'm in the dark."
Draco frowned. "Well, I can tell you, it wasn't me. So, if you ever change your mind, you can go ahead and cross my name off your list. If you recall, I ducked out early to go and crash Potter's wedding."
"Yes, with Astoria." Goyle smiled. "The day she fell for Weasley and the Greengrass family unit all went to hell."
"No offense, Goyle, but I would say my winning back Hermione was well worth that family's destruction," said Draco, finishing his scotch. He got up and poured himself another. "Their family unit was already going to hell, as it was."
"I suppose they were." Goyle paused for a moment and stared pensively into the fire. "You never told me how you ended up falling for Granger, anyway." Draco came over and topped off his glass. "I mean, I already knew you had changed after the war. During it, actually. But I never thought you'd changed so much that you'd let yourself fall for someone with …" He knew he had to word this carefully … "her background."
Draco returned to his seat, glancing once more at the clock and 'MORTAL PERIL' before taking a sip of his drink. "Neither did I. But, what can I say? She wore me down."
"But how did it even get to that point?"
Draco thought about this. "Well, when we started working together last summer we had just as much animosity towards each other as we did in our years at Hogwarts. But, eventually, we called a truce and developed a bit of a rapport. Then I caught Phil snogging her, and I decided right then and there that if one of us got to shag her it would be me, not him."
"Your groomsman, Phil?" asked Goyle, raising his eyebrows. "The one married to the smoking hot French girl."
"One and the same," he said. "But he and Sophie weren't together then. Actually, I was shagging Sophie." Huh. He wasn't sounding too good right now. "But I stopped as soon as I decided I wanted to shag Hermione instead." Now he sounded worse.
Goyle chuckled. "You're a class act, Malfoy."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Anyways, I kissed her, told her to choose and I think a week later she chose me."
"Then?"
"Then we shagged. A lot."
"And then?"
Draco smiled into his drink. "Like I said. She wore me down. Hermione … she helped me let go of my past. I thought the things I had done during the war would haunt me forever but, because of her, I was finally able to move on. I don't think I was capable of being happy before her … and I don't know if I'm capable of being happy without her."
Draco's eyes began to mist as he glanced, once more, at the clock. No change.
Goyle looked unsure of what he was supposed to do. He was never very good at this whole consoling thing. "Have you got any leads?" he asked after a short pause.
Draco shook his head. "There's nothing. Of course, we have our suspicions about people, but suspicions aren't enough to start raiding people's houses, even though that's what I'm often tempted to do."
Another pause.
"I'm sure she's fine," said Goyle. "What reason does anyone have to hurt her?"
"Just because they have no reason to hurt her, doesn't mean they won't," said Draco, glancing back up at the clock. "I just want to see her. To know she's okay." His throat felt raw, so he gulped to relieve it. It didn't help. "We got in a huge fight that night before she left. She made me angry, so I called her a Mudblood."
This was the first time Draco had admitted that to anyone. He found himself wondering why he had chosen Goyle to confess it to, but he assumed it had to do with their past, and how they had so freely used that word in their youth. No one else in his life would understand how he could have been so cruel to her, but Goyle understood. He knew how Draco was in his youth, and how much he hated himself for ever being that way.
"There is no excuse for what I said," he continued, "but I just wish I had the chance to tell her how sorry I am. To remind her how much I love her."
"I'm sure she knows."
"Still," said Draco, crying, "I want to be able to tell her. I want to be able to hold her. I just … I just want to know if she's all right. Why can't whoever took her just give me some bloody sign? Anything will do. I don't care. I just need to know. I need to know that all this misery I'm feeling, this grief isn't for nothing. That there is still hope she will one day come back to me. Because …" he gulped … "without her in my life, I'm as miserable as I was before she came into it."
Goyle looked at his friend and frowned. "I'm going to be honest, Draco. Seeing you like this is a bit unsettling."
"For you and me both."
"I wish I knew what I was supposed to tell you here," Goyle sighed, "but I really, really don't. I like to think that you'll find her soon, that you'll definitely get her back, but I'm pretty sure that's what everyone's already been telling you, and it obviously isn't making you feel any better. So I'm just going to tell you this. Things have a way playing out exactly as they're supposed to. If you and Hermione are part of some greater plan then you will find her, safe and sound. I have no doubt about that."
Draco couldn't help but smile. "Well, that definitely sounds better than what everyone else keeps saying." He took another sip of his drink. "Thanks, Goyle." A pause. "You need to leave Daphne."
The corners of Goyle's mouth twitched. "I know. But part of me is waiting to see if she really will change. Love makes you do stupid things sometimes. My waiting for her is one of them."
Draco nodded.
Another knock came at the door. They both turned.
"Expecting someone?" asked Goyle.
"No." Draco stood up and went to the door. He opened it cautiously. The shadowed silhouette of his father stood on the other side.
"Evening, Draco," he drawled, already pushing past his son and stepping inside. Lucius took in Draco's disheveled - and obviously intoxicated - appearance. "I hope I haven't disturbed you."
"Just enjoying a quiet evening at home," he said.
Goyle walked out of the drawing room.
Lucius turned. His face remained passive as he said, "Hello, Gregory. I was not expecting to see you here."
"Yes, well, I just stopped in to see how Draco was doing," Goyle said, looking a little nervous. "Perhaps I should be heading out."
"No, Goyle, you don't have to -"
"I believe that would be ideal." Lucius opened the front door. "Have a good rest of your evening, Gregory."
Goyle glanced at Draco, looking unsure before nodding slightly and heading out the door. Lucius shut and locked it behind him.
"Well, that was rude."
"You should not be hanging around the likes of him, Draco," said Lucius sternly. "I thought you were smarter than that."
"What do you mean 'the likes of him'?"
"Any friends of yours from before the war. Wizards like Gregory Goyle do not have your best interest in mind."
"Oh, and I suppose you do?" Draco sneered. He walked back into the drawing room and picked up his drink. He barely got a small sip in before Lucius was tearing it out of his hands. "Hey!"
"How much have you had to drink tonight?"
"Hell if I know," said Draco, trying to grab it back.
Lucius transfigured it into pumpkin juice before giving him his glass. "We do not have time for this sort of behavior, Draco."
Draco frowned down at his nonalcoholic drink before putting it down. "Why do you care? I've barely seen you since Hermione disappeared."
"In the beginning, I thought distancing myself from this was crucial, but I can see now that it makes no difference. It is time we put everything out on the table, Draco."
"What do you mean?" asked Draco with hazy eyes.
"It means, I have some information, and I feel it is time I share it with you. Just like I am positive you have information you have been keeping to yourself."
"I haven't kept anything to myself," said Draco, stumbling into his armchair. "But there are few people I am willing to share with."
"So then this is what you must do." Lucius moved so he was standing in front of his son, staring down into his stone-gray eyes with his own. "Compile a list of everyone you trust. To make it slightly larger, you might want to include all those Hermione trusts, as well. Do not send owls, but find some other way to get all of them here tomorrow night. Seven o'clock. We will share all we know and we will come up with a plan to find your wife. Since, clearly, no progress is being made."
Draco stared back at his father, his eyes narrowing. "Your name is not on that list, you know."
While Draco knew his words had stung, Lucius's manner did not falter. He looked as cold and pompous as ever. "Hermione trusted me. If she did not then she never would have let me enter her mind. Therefore, Son, I am on that list. And I will be back here tomorrow at seven o'clock."
"Great. You bring the wine and I'll put out a cheese platter." Draco stood back up and headed for his bottle of scotch. He had barely grabbed a new glass when Lucius tore it out of his hands. "What the fuck?" he shouted. "I'm twenty-two years old, Father. It's time you stop treating me like a child!"
He grabbed for his glass but Lucius held it out of his reach.
"I will as soon as you stop acting like one, Draco. If you think this behavior is helping your wife in any way then, by all means, continue."
Lucius handed him back the glass. Draco stared at it vacantly.
"If you want to help Hermione then you need to keep it together. You cannot fall apart. For her sake. And people like Gregory Goyle … they need to be kept at arm's length. This is a war, Draco. You never know who you can trust."
Draco put the glass down and looked up at his father. "Do you really care if we find her?"
"Of course I do," said Lucius. "Hermione is, perhaps, one of the few people in the wizarding world capable of carrying on an intelligent conversation. And, where you are concerned, I hate to see you miserable. It was not until she entered your life that I truly grasped how unhappy you were before. I do not want you to go back to that place, Draco. I want what is best for you and it seems that she is it."
"And what of Mother?" Draco asked. "Will she be attending tomorrow?"
"Will you be mentioning it to her?"
Draco thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"Neither will I."
Lucius headed for the front door. Draco followed him out, pausing in the threshold after his father exited. Lucius turned and attempted to smile, though, he had never been very good at it.
"Get some sleep, Draco. You look as if you could really use it."
Draco nodded and shut the door. He leaned against it for a moment, staring longingly at the drawing room as he thought about the bottle of scotch waiting for him. He stepped into the room and sighed before waving his wand at the fire, extinguishing the flames.
Once that was done, he headed up the stairs, pausing on the second floor as he stared up at the door leading into their bedroom. He, instead, turned into the guestroom where they had put their old bed and climbed into it without changing. He couldn't sleep in the bed he had once referred to as 'ours' to Hermione. Not until it was theirs once again.
Crookshanks found him in there and curled up beside him. He had become very soothing ever since Hermione's disappearance, and Draco finally fell asleep while petting him, something he had not been able to do for Merlin knows how long.
XXX
The next day, Draco was able to get in touch with everyone on the list he had compiled, which mainly consisted of everyone who had been at their wedding, minus the Grangers, his mother, the Goyles and Grawp - since having a giant come to his house was really not practical.
McGonagall and Hagrid were the only two to come from Hogwarts, but they planned to pass on any important information to their most trusted colleagues and Madam Rosmerta, if necessary.
All of the Weasleys but Percy and his wife - who were out of town - were there, though, Fleur and Angelina had stayed behind to watch the children. Andromeda - who had not been aware babysitters were available - had brought Teddy, but he was more than happy to play around in Draco's unfinished game room while the adults talked.
Charlie Weasley had flown in especially for this, and all the members of his dragon organization who had met Draco and Hermione the previous summer wanted to help. He would be reporting back to them.
When Draco had gone into Thinx to tell everyone about this meeting, he had debated not telling Chastity for a long while before finally giving in. She had helped them out a lot lately and though he didn't like her very much, he trusted her. Which, he supposed, put her in the same category as Potter and Weasel. He did not invite Atticus Quartz or their other investor, Dorian Dubois, since he did not know either of them well enough to determine whether they could be trusted or not.
Draco had made sure to corner Sophie ahead of time, to let her know that they would be putting everything on the table at this meeting, which meant the secret she had been keeping from Phillip would be exposed. She was upset but didn't object. Anything to help Hermione.
Kingsley had opened up the Floo network to Draco's house just for the night and, when Sophie and Phillip arrived in the fireplace, it was more than evident that her confession had not gone well.
"How you doing, Phil?" Draco had asked, trying to ease the tension.
"Don't speak to me, Malfoy. I'm here for Hermione. That's it."
He had then made a point not to sit by Sophie, who was obviously trying not to cry.
Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had come early to cook dinner for everyone in Draco's kitchen. It had been used very little, since he and Hermione had become so busy with everything to do with the prophecy shortly after they moved in, and it pained him a little to know they were not the ones breaking it in properly.
Once all had arrived and were seated around the dining room table - the one Draco and Hermione had chosen together - Mrs. Weasley and Ginny began serving everyone.
Kingsley stood at the head of the table. He had brought a Muggle whiteboard with him, which contained bullet points of everything they would be discussing that evening. Chastity sat at a small table in the corner with a quill and parchment, since she had volunteered to keep track of the minutes of their meeting.
The first thing on Kingsley's list to discuss was the Ever-Locked Room. He wanted Draco to share what he and Hermione had discovered. This took all of five minutes.
"Can you get back in there?" Neville asked after raising his hand.
"Not without her," Draco answered. "And, even if I somehow found a way, it would always kick me out when I stayed in there after she left."
"I'm just curious," said Ernie Macmillan, who had only been invited since he was helping Harry with Pansy. "If this room has been in the Ministry for over two centuries, why is it that no one has gone in until now? I just find that hard to believe."
Draco turned to Kingsley, who said, "If anyone has gone in, there is no record of it."
"But there has to be a way to find out something like that," continued Ernie. "It just seems like getting back in there should be a top priority."
"I believe my wife is the top priori -"
"I agree," interrupted Kingsley. "So that should be your task, Draco." He turned to him. "Find a way in."
While Draco really thought his talents could be used elsewhere, and the top priority should only be Hermione, he didn't much feel like arguing, especially with everyone staring so seriously at him, so he agreed.
Next, Kingsley wanted Draco to share anything else he felt was important, so he told all of them about the attack on Sophie and about Pansy Parkinson. Sophie and Phillip kept silent throughout it all. Harry reported on the Aurors findings while trailing her, or lack of them.
This was when Lucius stood and said he had something to share. Draco was livid when he heard about the attack on Wesley Granger, especially since no one had thought to tell him about it.
"Well, if those bloody bastards know where they live, why the hell do we not have someone watching them?"
"We do, actually," said Kingsley. "I have had a very trustworthy friend of mine keeping a close eye on them ever since it happened, and even sent a second person almost immediately after Hermione disappeared. The Grangers are safe."
"Do they know about Hermione?" asked Ron, looking at Draco. Everyone else looked too.
Draco gulped and shook his head. Hermione's parents had called him almost every day since she had disappeared, trying to get a hold of her, but he had been ignoring them. He was hoping they would find her before he had to worry them, but it didn't look like that was going to happen.
"Another task for you, Draco," said Kingsley. "Tell them."
"I will go with you, Son," said Lucius.
Draco nodded, his palms already sweating. This task was going to be even more unpleasant than the other one.
After keeping silent for the entire meeting, Phillip finally raised his hand. Draco looked at him curiously. Kingsley pointed at him, giving him the floor - or table.
"I'm just curious," Phillip said. "The confession Mr. Malfoy more or less got from his old chums relieves Zandicus Thinx of any guilt, so where the hell is he?"
Chastity fidgeted in the corner, clearly not liking any talk of her ex-fiancé, but she continued with her notes without interruption.
"We are not sure," said Kingsley. "He is unaware we know of his innocence, so chances are he is in hiding."
"Coward," said Seth, grabbing a roll from the center of the table and biting into it.
"So it was that Greengrass prick who said it was 'their' children?" asked Phillip, glancing across the table at Astoria, who was sinking down in her chair.
"It was," answered Lucius, also glancing at Astoria.
Soon, everyone was looking at her. She glanced around, not meeting anyone's eyes before sitting up slightly and saying, "I want to believe my sister had nothing to do with it, but I really don't know. But I'm positive Gregory didn't."
"And what do you think about Blaise Zabini?" Draco asked.
Astoria looked up and met his eyes. He was, perhaps, the only person in this room she didn't fear right now. "I wouldn't put it past the bastard. We both know he's done a lot of horrible things."
"If I told you Daphne was cheating on Goyle with him, would that change your answer?"
Astoria turned as white as a sheet. "What?"
"It's true, I'm afraid," said Draco, frowning.
Astoria's eyes practically turned red with rage. She took several deep breaths and said, "Daphne's a mimic. She's become every boyfriend she's ever had, except Gregory. If she really is involved with Blaise and he is guilty, then I am positive she is as well."
Draco sighed. "Thank you, Stori."
"I think the Aurors need to go to the houses of everyone on that list," said Harry, standing up. "Both generations."
"Under what pretense?" asked Kingsley.
"Why do we need a pretense?" asked Harry. "Isn't Lucius's confession enough?"
"Only if you want my name at the top of every hit list, Mr. Potter," said Lucius, looking at him coldly. "It would be best if you found another excuse."
"All right," said Harry, thinking hard. "How about we just say it's a routine visit? To see if anyone has any information on her. We can send the Aurors not here tonight to other wizards and witches homes, so it does not look suspicious."
It wasn't the best idea, but no one had any better ones, so Kingsley agreed to it.
Next, they discussed Wiley Rosier. He was an important figure in the Ministry and they weren't quite sure how to deal with him, since he had been on Lucius's list. Everyone who worked at the Ministry agreed that, for now, they would just keep an eye on him.
After that was settled, they needed to assign tasks to everyone. The Aurors and Draco had theirs, and Luna and Rolf volunteered to help Draco with his research about the room. Seth agreed to make more cell phones for anyone in that room who didn't already have one, while Phillip, Sophie, Caroline and Chastity agreed to look more into covert Muggle technology. Whoever took Hermione would clearly know how to look for any magic they might use to spy on them, but they would know nothing about Muggle devices, like microphones and cameras.
Charlie, having a job that required him to travel the world, was going to have anyone he trusted keep their ears open while the other Weasleys did the same around here.
McGonagall and Hagrid were going to also do this in Hogsmeade. They were going to have Aberforth keep an eye on anyone suspicious that came into the Hog's Head, especially if he ever figured out who it was that had overheard the prophecy and gone to Arron Greengrass with it. Hannah was going to do the same thing at the Leaky Cauldron, since pubs were always the best place to find out information.
Astoria was going to try and get into contact with Daphne, hoping to weasel some information out of her. It was a longshot, but it never hurt to try.
Lucius was going to distance himself from everyone here. The best thing he could do was try to find a way back in with his old friends, but this was an even longer shot than what Astoria was doing. Chances were they would never trust him again, especially since he had confessed his fondness for Hermione to them.
Ollivander, who had said nothing throughout the entire meeting, had his own idea of what he wanted to do. He wanted to prepare for the worst. Gather things together in case a war really did happen, and anyone here needed to disappear quickly. Andromeda agreed to help him with this, though she - along with everyone else - secretly hoped this task would just be a waste of time.
Once that was all settled, there was just one last thing to discuss.
"So what shall we call ourselves?" asked Ron, bright-eyed.
"Call ourselves?" Draco sneered. "Why the hell would we call ourselves anything?"
"Well, we had the Order of the Phoenix," said Arthur.
"And Dumbledore's Army," added Hannah, smiling fondly at the memory.
"How about the Order of the Dragon," said Charlie, "since Draco means dragon and he and Hermione spent all of last summer running from them. It just seems appropriate." He grinned at Draco, who rolled his eyes.
"Are we an order, though?" asked George. "I feel like that has already been done."
"Out of all the things we have discussed tonight, I really feel that the name of our group is the least important," said Draco, suddenly feeling eager to get everyone out.
"Group … How about Grangers Groupies?" said Ginny, laughing.
"If only Hermione was still a Granger, Weaselette," said Draco.
"If only I was still a Weaselette, Malfoy," Ginny retorted.
"Sorry, Mrs. Potty." Draco winked.
"We're too small to be a legion," continued George, clearly in his own world. "Perhaps we should be a fellowship."
"Oh! Like that Muggle book with the rings!" said Ernie excitedly.
"Why don't we just be Malfoys Mavericks and call it a day?" said Seth, who also seemed eager to get out of there. Though, Draco didn't know why. It was not like he ever had plans with anyone outside of this room.
"Well, that's not right. Doesn't being anyone's maverick defeat the purpose maverick-ness?" said Caroline, who always loved to prove Seth wrong.
"First off, maverick-ness, not a word." Seth sneered.
"Second off," interrupted Kingsley, "yes, it does defeat the purpose. We're the Fellowship of the Dragon. Any objections?"
Only Draco raised his hand.
"All right then. Until next week. Same time, same place."
Draco groaned.
"Meeting adjourned." Kingsley transfigured a carrot into a gavel and slammed it on the table.
Mrs. Weasley packed up food for anyone who wanted it and, before Draco knew it, everyone was on their way. The last person to leave was Andromeda, who went upstairs with him to get Teddy. They found him asleep in the guestroom bed, his small figure barely noticeable in the down comforter.
"I hate to ask this, Draco, but would you mind if he stays here? I would hate to have to wake him up," she whispered, smiling at her serene-looking grandson.
"Of course not," said Draco, secretly delighted to have company that wouldn't constantly be asking him about his feelings.
"Fantastic," she said, stepping out of the room. "I will be back for him in the morning. Perhaps the two of us could take you out for breakfast."
While Draco secretly dreaded the idea of leaving the house, he supposed it would be good for him to get out. And, before all of this had happened, he had been hoping for a chance to get to know his aunt. "I would like that," he said, trying his hardest to sound sincere.
His aunt leaned in and gave him a hug before heading downstairs to the fireplace and Flooing home.
Draco debated sleeping in his own room, since the guestroom bed had clearly been taken over, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it.
After changing, he climbed into bed beside Teddy. The small boy automatically moved over and clung onto him. Draco couldn't help but smile. It felt nice to have someone there with him, even if it was just a child. Maybe Andromeda would let Teddy stay over more often.