AN: Ugh, I realise this chapter has taken me almost forever, but hey..it's done now, so yay. There are probably errors as I only did a quick proofread so try not to throw a fit about them mmk. As always, thanks for reading. Oh yeah, mature content ahead...and stuff.*kisses*
Chapter 22 – Conceptualising Chang
Nick Moretti pretended he was perfectly satisfied with his new life in Britain and his new wife for that matter, but it was the furthest thing from the truth. He was downright miserable, but it seemed all the wizards and witches with whom he was acquainted were suffering from the same ailment of discontent. He had broken his cardinal rule of kindness and magicked Daphne in the basement of the small cottage he'd finally purchased. It was a nice home, plenty of room for the two of them but of course Daphne wanted bigger and grander, something more fitting for a woman of her pureblood stature. Nick ignored her protests, as he ignored most everything she said and shown her to her room.
She was quite a striking witch, of that there was no doubt, yet the moment she opened her mouth he was hard pressed not to slap her. He had felt guilty for locking her in the basement for but a moment. It was better than striking her or even shouting. He had shouted at her and while he hoped his point was made, the flicker of pain before her cold mask was secured into place haunted him.
Nick calmed sipped his pint and tossed another handful of singles onto the stage. He had to admit, the gentlemen's clubs in England were classier than the places he'd frequented in the States. He had an affinity for privately wicked women, but he kept that secret to himself.
There was a knockout blonde making the circuit. Her long hair brushed the cheeks of her bare arse, the sway of her hips was as alluring as the smile on her plump lips. She set her eyes on Nick, winking from across the stuffy room and sashayed her way toward him.
Nick closed his bright eyes, inhaling deeply as the smell of vanilla and sweat permeated his nostrils. He wasn't the sort of man to even consider straying from his relationship, but these were special circumstances. It wasn't as if he and Daphne had even consummated their marriage, they hadn't. She refused to allow him to touch her, as she was still quite set on winning back the prize of Draco Malfoy. Nick had shrugged off her angry tirades until that morning.
"That's enough now. I've listened to you bitch and moan like you're just sumthin' special, but let's just face it Daph, youse just the same as everyone else. Sure you're pretty but that's all you got goin' for you. You're mean for no other reason than you like it. What does that say about you? You really think Draco Malfoy is gonna leave Hermione for the likes of you? You're foolin' yourself and it's gettin' embarrassin'. I feel sorry for you." Nick sighed heavily waiting for the shriek of rage.
"You feel sorry for me? That's ridiculous. I'm Daphne Greengrass and you're just some bloody American with the manners of a heathen. Draco loved me once, he'll love me again. Mark my words, he'll toss aside that disgusting Mudbloo…" Nick had slapped her then. Not too hard, but hard enough to stop her from spouting her pureblood superiority laced with hatred.
"Hermione is twice the woman you'll ever be and I'm bein' conservative. Yannow, I tried tawkin' with the Minister for you. I thought maybe you wouldn't be such a bitch if you had a wand. I doan know what I was thinkin'. Youse a selfish witch Daph. You ain't eva gonna change and I ain't waitin anymore. Youse gonna stay in the basement 'til I get back, then I'll decide what I'm gonna do wit you." Nick shoved her along, finally dragging her down the stairs into one of the smaller rooms in their basement.
He had placed a twin bed against one wall and had a sink installed so she would at least have access to water. Daphne hissed and fought against him, but she was no match to the stronger wizard. He unceremoniously tossed her onto the bed and turned to leave.
"Y-you can't leave me here." It was almost poetic to listen to the fear in Daphne's voice.
"I can. I will. You'll stay here until you finally learn." Nick rolled his eyes and licked his lips.
"Learn what?" Daphne's dark eyes flicked around the small room in horror but also fear.
"You're not any better than anyone else and it's time for you to stop being worse."
Nick Moretti shoved thoughts of his horrible wife out of his mind while the sexy blonde gyrated on his lap. Her breasts brushed his cheek and in a moment of spontaneity, his tongue flicked across her skin. She pulled away quickly, shocked at his behaviour, but he knew she enjoyed it by the darkening of her eyes.
"You can't do that here." She whispered furiously in his ear. Nick grasped her hard thighs and pulled her into his lap, with an easy smile.
"So, where can I do it?" She hurriedly removed herself from his lap and damned if she wasn't blushing. It amused him to a certain extent. It wasn't often he came across women who readily disrobed for money who were easily embarrassed.
Nick knew it was dangerous, but he was beyond caring. He was aching to be suspended from his Auror duties. He was practically begging the Minister daily to send him back to America. So Nick smiled, gathered the busty blonde in his thick strong arms and Disapparated.
"I've done that before!" The blonde laughed, stumbling quite a bit in her ridiculously high stiletto shoes.
"Sure you have sweetheart." Nick laughed, enjoying the view while her shoes clipped loudly across the hardwood. He knew it would drive Daphne fucking crazy which was part of his delight.
"No really, I have. In fact, it was this cute little…"
"Honey, I didn't bring you here to talk." She giggled them, which suited Nick just fine.
Every step he took forward, she took one back, smiling shyly. When her knees hit the side of the bed, she removed what pass for her top and sat primly on the edge.
"You do this a lot?" Nick didn't really care, he was simply curious.
"No, but I've had my eye on you, seen you about quite a lot lately. Bit of trouble at home?" She laughed untying the strings on her hips to remove her minuscule knickers.
Nick shrugged; a noncommittal answer if there ever was one and lowered his mouth to her perky breast. He tried to rationalize it to himself. It wasn't as if he were truly cheating. It wasn't as if he and Daphne had a marriage in the truest sense. He was simply shackled to her for the next few years. He hadn't been with a woman since before he had set foot on British soil. Perhaps this was an act that could send him hurtling back to America.
Daphne Greengrass Moretti pounded the heavy oak door with furious fists as the boisterous sounds of lovemaking assailed her senses. She honestly never thought Nick Moretti had it in him. She would have expected as much from a wizard such as Draco, but secretly she believed Nick had respect for the sanctity of marriage, even if it was a farce.
Unintentionally, she ruminated on the things Nick had said and while she wasn't willing to admit anything he said was true, she had a sinking feeling he was right. She hated him for it. She hated him for thrusting her failure in her face. She hated him for making valid arguments. She hated him for being kind to her when she didn't deserve it. She hated him for bringing Millie over to visit. She hated Millie too. Millie was supposed to be just as miserable but she had to go and like the bloody Weasley.
Hours later, Nick Moretti unlocked the door, his face pale and sickly. He continuously wiped the sweat from his brow as he waited for Daphne to stomp past him. She strode up the stairs quickly, barely sparing him a glance, yet stopped short in the cozy dining area.
"What the hell is this?" Daphne gestured toward the seemingly sleeping, barely clad blonde woman bound to a hard backed chair.
"I think I fucked up." Nick grabbed Daphne's arm hard and she fell against him. "It's your fucking fault. You and your prissy attitude, dose tight dresses that leave little to the imagination. I've let you wauk all ova me long anuff." Nick captured Daphne's wrists behind her back with one hand, fondling her breasts through the clinging material of her forest green dress.
There was something about his demanding anger that was exhilarating. Daphne was torn between the want to slap him and grind into him. He was quite a handsome man, even if she despised admitting it. He had never been cruel to her, even if she had deserved it, but in this moment, his animalist nature was enthralling. She didn't even scream when he tossed her over his shoulder, nor when he threw her in her bedroom. Without a wand, there wasn't much she could do and they both knew it.
"You just fucked a slag and you expect me to what? Spread my legs for you to consummate this farce of a marriage? You're bloody insane." Daphne's voice wavered and of course Nick noticed.
"I didn't fuck her. I thought about it, I almost did, but why fuck some random slut when I've a perfectly good wife? Take off your dress." Nick unbuttoned his dress shirt and dropped his slacks to the floor, his eyes never leaving Daphne's heaving cleavage.
"No! Absolutely not! Y-you hate me. You can't…"
"I can still hate you while I fuck you. Take off the dress or I'm ripping it off." Daphne could feel his warm breath across her cheek, yet she still refused to yield. "Last chance, take it off or suffer the consequences." Nick managed a small smile when his forefinger brushed across her ample cleavage and she held her breath.
Finally resorting to magic, Nick vanished her green dress, leaving Daphne in matching green knickers and a corset of all things. She gasped, instantly spinning around to cover herself with the crisp white sheet across her bed, but Nick was faster. He shoved her onto her stomach, keeping a firm hand between her shoulder blades.
"You've been quite the naughty witch." Nick Moretti was a man on a mission. He was determined to have his wife and it seemed her struggles had lessened considerably.
He tugged on her knickers, dragging them down her thighs and ran his free hand over the smooth curve of her arse before smacking it, hard. Daphne struggled against his hold, her legs kicking furiously.
"Stop it! You're mad! Absolutely mad!" Daphne's cries fell on deaf ears as Nick continued his exploration.
It was relatively easy for him to remove her corset and he enjoyed vacillating between pain and pleasure. Daphne, refused to admit it was exhilarating to be pinned to the bed, never knowing if his fingers would caress or strike.
"Are you going to be a good little wife now?" Nick's fingertips danced across the backs of her thighs, causing him to smirk when Daphne spread her legs slightly, almost in an invitation.
"I don't wish to be married to you." Daphne spat, earning her another harsh smack upon her bum.
"Are you sure? Good little wives get rewarded." Nick lightly brushed the apex of her thighs, listening to Daphne's harsh breaths.
Her hands were clenched into fists on the sheets, her breaths in short gasps. She had never succumbed to any wizards demands before, yet Nick's feather light touches were driving her mad. She stifled a groan when he shoved her legs apart, silently begging him to touch her.
"Roll over." Daphne hadn't even realised he had released her and her first instinct was to bolt from the room with the tiny shreds of her pride, but she didn't. For the first time in her life, Daphne Greengrass simply did as she was told.
She rolled onto her back slowly, her eyes shut and her limbs trembling. Nick admired his wife's naked form with an appreciative eye before he began to explore. His knuckle brushed across a taut peak causing Daphne's back to arch off the mattress. His mouth quickly followed, he never had been able to resist large pert breasts and he was quite glad his Ministry mandated wife was in possession of such orbs. His hand snaked between her thighs before Daphne could catch her breath and it wasn't but a moment later she was keening, as she bucked into his hand.
It was second nature to struggle when she felt his naked thighs, nudging hers apart. Daphne's eyes flew open and her hands were pinned over her head, Nick towering over her.
"Please…don't." Nick kissed her then, hard and unforgiving, lips gnashing against teeth before plunging his tongue into her mouth. He slid between her thighs, sheathing himself quickly, catching her scream in his mouth.
It hurt more than she expected it too. It wasn't as if she'd never done it before, but it had only been once so many years ago, it was as if it were her first time all over again. Nick remained still, studying the pained expression on his wife's face that he didn't fully understand.
"You've done this before yeah?"
"Once…a…a long t-time ago." Daphne whispered, adjusting to the sensation of Nick's achingly slow movements. Nick dropped his head to her neck, biting it hard.
"Oh baby, you're so fucking good."
Afterwards, while Daphne was firmly held against the chest of her husband, she frowned, unsure how she felt about the entire encounter. Nick was amusing himself by hefting the weight of her left breast in his hand and tweaking the nipple.
"I've decided you ain't stayin in here no more. Youse movin' into my room. I like a headstrong witch and all, but really Daphne you take the cake. So until you can learn how to be a good little wife, we're gone be doin' this every day."
"Tell me you used a protection charm." Nick hopped up from the bed and tossed her a sheer cream robe.
"Nope. No need for that nonsense. Come on, get up." As Daphne's bum was still smarting from her last 'punishment' she quickly donned the robe and followed him into the dining room.
"Why is that Muggle here?" Daphne finally asked, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder.
"We hafta ask her some questions when that Sleeping Potion wears off. Auror business. Come sit on my lap." Nick sat in one of the high backed chairs and slapped his jean clad thighs.
"Haven't you had enough? Haven't I been debased enough for today?" Daphne crossed her arms over her breasts, hiding them from view.
"This isn't for me. It's for you. I know you didn't finish." Nick wiggled his eyebrows and patted his lap once more.
"What do you mean I didn't finish?" The confusion on her face would have amused him immensely, if it weren't so heartbreakingly sad.
"Daphne, doan make me repeat myself." Daphne gritted her teeth, yet slowly approached him until she was dragged into his lap.
She wasn't particularly comfortable, but that changed when he wrenched open her legs, until they dangled over his. Nick spread her robe, leaving it tied at the waist until her breasts were exposed. He did enjoy the view over her shoulder and nipped her throat.
"Lean back on me." He whispered in her ear, licking her earlobe.
"I don't like this." Nick was aware of the fact Daphne felt completely exposed, but that was his purpose. He wanted her to relinquish her control.
"You will." Her head lolled on his shoulder while his hand made its way up her thigh. He teased her folds gently until she relaxed against him.
The perfect circles made her skin hot and her nipples pebbled into hardened rocks. Nick fondled her breasts while applying pressure to the rigid nub beneath his fingertip. Her thighs had begun to quake and he stopped his ministrations with a smirk.
"Wait what? Don't stop…" He chuckled lightly while Daphne whined. He'd never heard her voice husky with want, nor her skin flushed.
He pushed her to her feet and spun her around. Daphne felt the edge of the table against her bum and leaned against it, unable to trust her legs to keep her upright. She allowed Nick to push her onto her back, feeling a bit as if she were on display while her legs dangled off the table. Her first instinct was to clench her legs closed at the knees when she felt his hot breath on the insides of her thighs, but it was impossible.
Nick Moretti wished he had known how responsive Daphne could be while his tongue delved into her warm heat. He also wished he hadn't wasted so much time and consummated his marriage months earlier, especially when he felt Daphne spasm her release.
"I'm scarred for life, thanks Moretti." Harry Potter, looking decidedly green around the gills stepped out of the Floo.
Daphne shrieked and ran from the room with her sheer robe billowing out behind her. Nick smiled and wiped his mouth before heading off to the loo without a word.
"What the fuck have I walked into? Oh look, a mostly naked Muggle and Nick Moretti pleasuring his wife on the table."
"Hey Potter, I've heard plenty a stories of the places you and Malfoy molest your wives." Harry was thankful Nick had donned a shirt and sighed.
"Moretti, why is there a half naked Muggle bound to a chair?"
"She was drunk off her ass last night, dude. She tawks a lot which is aiight I suppose, but you'll never guess what she said." Nick gestured toward one of the dining chairs and Harry sat in one warily, hoping they hadn't defaced this chair as well.
"Why don't you just bloody tell me?"
"Well, I broke some rules and whatnot. I went to one of dose strip clubs and Apparated her here. Shuddup. She tole me she'd done that before but I ignored her, until she kept tellin' bout this little Asian chick who took her home one time. It seems da witch was into some kinky shit and ripped a buncha her hairs out. Now, iunno bout you but…"
"She could be Susannah. I mean, not the killer obviously, but she could give us information about the killer. She's met her and perhaps Chang said something…" Harry's eyes widened, his brain quickly sifting through the new information as a leaden feeling settled in his chest.
Harry still hadn't the chance to discuss Chang's motive with Hermione, but that was to be expected. The Aurors had spent most of the day scouring London for a single trace of Wendell Wilkins to come up completely empty. It was as if the man had disappeared off the face of the earth, which wasn't as farfetched an idea as Harry would have liked.
"Malfoy owled me and said Hermione's dad is missing and Chang is your number one suspect."
"Yeah, but I still don't understand why."
"Hermione said dat wasn't your strong suit." Nick Moretti chuckled lightly while pretending he was incapable of seeing the dangerous glower from the scar headed wizard. "You think Malfoy would mind if we went over there? I mean da guy does have all the notes pegged on that wall. It would make things easier…"
"Actually that's why I'm here. We're gathering some of the team at Malfoy's and since Xander is in bed, we'll actually be able to get some work done. I don't even think they would mind if you brought Daphne, as long as she put on some clothes. Luna and Blaise are there now…" Nick rose from the table without a word and ambled up the steps toward his bedroom. "Well that was bloody rude."
"You're spending too much time looking for a logical reason." Blaise interrupted the wizards poring over the stacks of parchment covered in Hermione's copious notes.
Draco snorted, adjusting his wife on his knee while his palm continuously moved up and down her back. It soothed the mounting anxiety stemming from the entire situation.
"What else are we supposed to do Zabini?" Harry groaned, throwing his quill across the room. It didn't accomplish much but it made him feel slightly better.
"Listen, I'm not an Auror, and I don't bloody want to be one, but this isn't a logical sort of case. The sooner you realise that the better. If Chang is truly the culprit, then you need to look at it from her viewpoint." Blaise squeezed one of the many stuffed dragons littering the floor, balking when it squeaked.
"He actually has a point. We've sent a team of Aurors to the flat she's kept in Diagon Alley, but it was obvious she hadn't lived there in quite a while. We have an all-points bulletin out and haven't received a single sighting. She's emotionally compromised; we need to speak to the Muggle girl." Hermione tapped her lip with an ink smudged fingertip.
Personally, Draco thought she looked absolutely adorable with the blot of black ink on her lip, her hair in complete disarray and a glow on her cheeks. He was having difficulty concentrating on his task, but he was unwilling to relinquish his hold on her.
"Parkinson…er Longbottom is interrogating her, but we don't expect to learn much." Harry groaned again, earning him a smack in the head from Nick of all people.
"Pansy owled her report, doan you pay attention?" Nick rifled through the small stack of papers beside him and waved one sheet in Harry's face.
"No actually I don't. Every time I close my eyes I see your fucking wife spread on the table where you eat and your face…"
"Potter." Draco pretended to gag.
"Draco Malfoy you best not be picturing her starkers." Hermione jabbed him with her elbow before snatching Pansy's report from Harry's fingers.
"Nee love, why would I waste my time with that when I can picture you whenever I like." Draco nipped her ear and wrapped his arms around her waist.
"She's a cabin in the wood!"
The sounds of chairs crashing, limbs scrambling and raised voices filled the small space until Xander screeched from his bedroom. His little feet stomped across the hardwood until they listened to the erratic thumps while he made his way down the stairs.
"I sowwy. I no cwy." Xander rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his curly hair tangled and sweaty.
"Hey there…little man." Blaise's deep voice startled the youngster and Xander jumped, craning his neck to look up into the unfamiliar tanned face.
"You big! I fwee. I have toys, you play?" Xander grabbed the large wizard's hand and began pulling him along. Blaise didn't have much of a choice in the matter and followed the small boy up the stairs with a wave toward the busy group.
"I suppose we'll just let them be for the moment." Hermione smiled, completely overwhelmed with the wave of emotion washing over her.
"Blaise did have a valid point. We are looking at this all wrong." Draco stared at the list of witches and wizards whom had been attacked thus far. "Potter was the first one to comment on the fact that the Golden Trio has had contact with all these people. If you really study the names together you can see the connections. They were all involved in the TriWizard Championship and Potter won."
"During that abysmal dinner party, Luna had an interesting train of thought. Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory grasped the TriWizard Cup at the same time, which was in fact a Portkey. If Harry hadn't been so magnanimous, Cedric never would have been in that graveyard. Sorry, Harry. It wasn't long after his death, Chang and Harry attempted dating but what if her angst didn't have anything to do with her emotional confliction between Harry and Cedric and instead she honed all her hatred and emotional upheaval toward Harry. Obviously, there's some latent resentment toward Harry. I mean, she seemingly moved on with her life, married a Muggle, had a child and when they died…"
"In order to cope with the loss, she regressed, mentally I mean. She's obviously retained the unequivocal pain of losing her husband and child and yet at the same time, she's placing blame on Harry instead of it being the happenstance of life." Draco interjected, nodding while tapping his quill on the parchment.
"Yes of course. I'm sure she believes if Harry had never aided Cedric, he would still be alive. Perhaps she's even gone so far as to project that future in her mind's eye. If Cedric had lived, she never would have married John nor had Henry. She probably would have been happily married to Cedric and being as he was a wizard, they would have had access to St. Mungos during her pregnancy and she'd probably have more than one child."
"Oh bloody fantastic. It seems as if I'm to blame for every horrid thing to happen in the history of the world because Voldemort. Ridiculous. Sometimes bad things happen; it doesn't make them my fault!" Harry kicked the leg of the dining chair, cringing as it toppled over.
"Harry, I'm not saying it's your fault. I don't blame you for any of it. You had no way of knowing the Cup was a Portkey. Voldemort killed Cedric, Cho should be blaming him, but he's already dead and gone. She wouldn't get any closure from blaming one already dead. Her irrational grief has her grasping at straws; therefore you're the most likely candidate for her to exact her misplaced revenge." Hermione crossed her arms huffing, quite proud of herself.
"Uhm, Hermione? Have you ever noticed…" Harry slammed the list of victims on the table, stabbing each name on the list, "as the list goes on…the closer the victims are to…well to us?" Harry swallowed hard; waiting for the moment Hermione would tell him he was being absolutely ridiculous.
"She has my father…" Draco and Harry were both surprised by the lack of emotion in Hermione's statement. They both hovered, preparing themselves for the moment the emotional ramifications hit her, but the moment never came.
She brushed off their outstretched hands and began pacing, as she was apt to do. Nick ignored the tension in the air, his eyes wandering toward a slumbering Daphne. He was sort of fond of her, in a roundabout sort of way. She hadn't even put up a fuss when he demanded her presence at the Malfoys, which he considered progress.
"Nick, wake up your wife. I want to ask her a question or two. It's important."
"Aww Nee, that's not fair. We finally got a bit of peace and quiet with the bint sleeping." Draco protested despite the dangerous furrow of Nick's brow.
Frankly, Draco didn't give a shit that Nick had married Daphne. He also didn't give a shit that they had finally consummated their marriage. He would always consider Daphne Greengrass an infuriating, conniving witch, obsessed with all things which were not hers.
"Malfoy, if I can't request your wife's cooking on a whim, you can't insult mine." Nick Moretti yanked on the waist of his dark denim jeans and pushed up the long sleeves of his plaid shirt. He wasn't exactly sure how to go about waking Daphne, but he knew he'd have to tread carefully. She did have a bit of a temper.
"Oi! Greengrass! WAKE UP!" Harry shouted, tired of watching Moretti pussyfoot around.
"Well, that was bloody rude. I just got the little dude back to sleep. His hair is green." Blaise shrugged and helped himself to a tumbler of whiskey. "Daphne looks pissed."
"Sorry about that Daphne, Harry's got the manners of a blast-ended skrewt, but I'd like to speak with you for a moment and then I'm sure Nick would be most willing to bring you home. It can't be comfortable sleeping on a sofa." Hermione tried to smile, but it simply wasn't natural to feign kindness toward the Slytherin.
Daphne Greengrass Moretti studied Hermione silently. She managed to refrain from scowling at the witch's grey lounge pants and oversized jumper, which was so obviously Draco's. She still resented the Muggle-born witch for taking the wizard she truly believed would one day be hers. She spared a glance at Draco to see a bloody smile dancing on the corner of his upturned lips while he watched his wife. Daphne sighed, realising no matter how much she desired him, he wasn't capable of seeing anyone beyond Hermione bloody Granger.
"What do you want then?" Daphne sat up, curling her feet beneath the hem of her blush gown. Nick instantly sat beside her, more to make sure she didn't lunge at Hermione in a fit of rage than anything.
"Daphne, if your greatest wish was to cause irrevocable damage to Harry Potter, what would you do?" Hermione decided the best course of action was to get directly to the point. She didn't believe Daphne to have the patience for subtle explanations.
"One incredibly damaging blow or multiple blows that would slowly incapacitate him?"
"Hermione? Why are you asking her that?" Harry scratched his head, shoving a pumpkin pasty into his mouth without preamble.
"I wish to be wrong, that's why. Multiple blows." Daphne closed her eyes and if Hermione wasn't mistaken, the bloody witch was smiling, no doubt reveling in the idea of Gryffindor bodies bludgeoned to death.
"Astoria, Weasley, you, in that order. Always save the best for last. You'd think his wife would be last, but definitely not. Harry Potter is the sort of wizard that leans upon his friends in the absence of family. Therefore the logical thing to do is eradicate his family by disposing of his wife. He'll immediately go to his two very best friends for support. Weasley would be easy enough to dispatch, it's not as if he's particularly bright or anything. What's left then? Oh yes, the renowned Hermione Granger, the brains behind the Golden Trio. Everyone thinks the loss of Weasley would hit Potter the hardest, but that's not true. He and Granger understand each other on a completely different level. They're more than friends, but always less than lovers. It's sickening really, but they're family and losing her? Well, the great Harry Potter would simply be reduced to a shell of a human being, which is torturous enough. After that, it would be quite simple to rid the world of Harry Potter, if that's the desired result of course." Daphne shrugged as if it didn't matter to her in the least, which it didn't.
"Harry…" Hermione breathed, the pounding of her heart roaring in her ears.
"On it." Harry scurried down the steps toward the Travel Room by twos until Hermione could hear him shouting into the Floo.
"Nee, please sit down. I don't relish the idea of scraping you off the floor; you're looking a bit pale." Draco was set to guide her toward the armchair, but Hermione was frozen, though whether from shock or upset was anyone's guess.
"Malfoy, would you see Nick and Daphne to one of the guest rooms. I think it would be better if they stayed here tonight. I'm sure Astoria and James will settle quite nicely in the room beside Xander's and…" Hermione wrung her hands, her breaths rapid as she rattled off sleeping arrangements for their expected guests.
"Nee…"
"That empty room downstairs would convert nicely with a simple flick of your wand and..." Draco grabbed Hermione's shoulders and gave her a bit of a shake. "I wanted to be wrong." She finally whispered resting her weary head on Draco's chest with a small shudder.
"I know, love. I'm sorry, but you're Hermione Malfoy and Malfoys are never wrong." He swayed her gently, holding her close until she could draw a full breath would shivering. "We haven't the room for everyone here, you do realise this?"
"I know, but…"
"Moretti, I'm going to Floo my parents. I want you to bring Daphne there and then head to the Weasleys. Weasley will put up a bit of a fuss, but Millie will listen to reason. Take them to the Manor. I'm going to send owls to the members of Potter's team and have them come here."
"Are you sure dat's the best plan? I mean we're all Aurors and whatnot, dontchu think we're capable of protecting our families ourselves?" Nick threw his arm around Daphne, pretending not to notice the instant stiffening of her back.
"Chang is a Ministry official. She's managed to murder six witches and wizards that we know of so far. She's maimed two people who were not anything less than brilliant. While I do have the utmost respect for the capabilities of Potter's team, there is a certain safety in numbers. Malfoy Manor is a bloody fortress and while I would never dream of bringing my wife there, it is perfectly acceptable to have members of the team kept on sight for the protection of Ronald Weasley."
The moment Nick rose from the sofa, Draco was shoving Hermione into the vacated seat, ignoring her protests. It was obvious she was exhausted and he wasn't of a mind to listen to her attempts of denial.
"Daphne, keep an eye on her for me. I know you're not fond of her and I'm not asking you to be. She's bloody exhausted, completely stressed and pregnant as well. I'm asking you to please look after her for a moment." Daphne nodded curtly, giving Hermione a sidelong glance. A few moments later, Hermione was curled into the side of the sofa fast asleep, not even stirring when an agitated Harry Potter bounded back up the stairs.
The conversations seemed to meld together, creating a beautiful cacophony of nonsense. Daphne ran her fingers through her hair, waiting for Nick to finish whatever it was he was doing and listened to the snippets of conversation with half an ear.
"Draco darling, is everything alright? You look a bit…"
"Astoria and James are gathering a few essentials before…"
"Ron is being his usual stubborn self…"
"Of course you can send them here; it's not as if we haven't the room…"
"My wife is not going to Malfoy Manor I don't…"
"Millie said she'll drag him here by his bloody red ears…"
"Malfoy, I'm taking your wife up to bed." Luna Zabini's clear voice rose above the din and it was obvious from the reactions of the wizards they had forgotten she was about. "I've been upstairs, keeping an eye on Xander. Blaise took it upon himself to carry your messages to Theo and Pansy."
Leave it to Luna to answer unasked questions as if it were nothing more than speaking of the weather.
It was the wee small hours of the morning before Draco Malfoy was finally able to drag himself off to bed. He had a devil of a time convincing his team it was necessary for them to vacate their homes for a spell. He valiantly tried to think of the medley of witches and wizards as Potter's team, but at the end of the day, they responded better to him. Two sets of Weasley's were scurried off to Malfoy Manor under protest, which was to be expected. George and Ron seemed a bit more at ease knowing they would have each other and adding the Longbottom's to the group had abated much of the tension. Pansy was strangely thrilled to be housed with Daphne, Millie and Padma and even happier to discover they had an entire wing of the Manor to themselves. Draco snorted thinking of his father waking to be surrounded by Gryffindors and it amused him greatly despite the circumstances.
Harry wasn't thrilled with the prospect of remaining at Forest Lake but when it was pointed out the other option was Malfoy Manor, he quickly fell in line. Harry, Astoria and little James were sound asleep in the room beside Xander's. Theo and Hannah were just down the hall. It had been a silent concensus to keep Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott Nott as far from each other as possible.
Draco dutifully closed the Floo Network for the Travel Room as well as the Floo in the sitting room before climbing the stairs to his bedroom. He opened the door as quietly as humanly possible and shed his shirt and pants before even sparing a glance at his slumbering wife. Vaguely he wondered when Luna had left, but he supposed it didn't matter. He opened the draperies surrounding the four poster and almost laughed at the sight of his wife. Hermione was sleeping in the middle of the bed with a drooling Xander clutched almost desperately to her chest. He shrugged and climbed in behind her, kissing her cheek before his eyes drooped and he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke entirely too early in the morning from the sounds of a witch's shrieking, Xander crying and Harry Potter shouting. He groaned, wishing more than the ability to roll over and go back to sleep. He was alone in the bed, which added to his foul mood. Draco managed to throw on a pair of lounge pants and a plain white tee shirt before he ambled down the stairs, wishing death upon every person whom had interrupted his sleep.
"There you are! That bitch Apparated right into my fucking house and killed her!" Pansy Longbottom shouted, throwing yet another coffee mug into the wall.
"She's not making a bit of sense. She's destroyed an impressive number of glassware. My suggestion would be to…DUCK!" Harry shoved Draco while he dove beneath the dining table as shards of glass showered down upon them.
"Immobulus." Draco flicked his wand and they bathed in the wondrous delight of silence. "C'mon Potter, that was basic first year magic. I'm not even bloody awake yet. Tell me there's coffee." He brushed the tiny shards of clinging glass from his pants and growled.
"There was, but…" Harry gestured toward the empty cupboard and the dark brown liquid which dripped in a steady stream from the counter to the floor.
"Pans, you're going to calm the fuck down and use your words."
It was a common practice during Hogwarts for Draco to refer to Pansy 'using her words'. It seemed when she was absolutely furious, Pansy simply shouted and threw things. It was impossible to make sense of her shrieks then and even more so now. Pansy blinked and Draco knew that was the most he could expect where a response was concerned. Warily he removed the Freezing Charm and pointed at one of the wooden chairs with his wand.
"Potter, where is my wife?"
"You're not going to deal with Pansy first?" Harry sucked the side of his thumb which was sporting a brilliant cut.
"No. I'm going to allow her a few moments to collect her thoughts. You're going to clean up this bloody kitchen, you've got the experience. Don't look at me like that cupboard boy. Use bloody magic and make some fucking coffee. It's entirely too early for this shit."
"Hermione is vomiting in the lavatory near the foyer. Astoria has Xander and James in the garden, but they're staying near the house. Theo is watching over them and Hannah is crying." Harry decided it was in his best interest to avoid further irritating his host. He immediately began searching for the dustpan and broom before he remembered the wonders of magic.
"Hannah is crying, what else is bloody new there? She cries more than any witch…"
"It's her fucking fault!" Pansy shouted with her fists white in barely maintained rage.
"Potter, coffee, Pansy use your words." Draco flicked his wand and the millions of tiny shards disappeared in a cloud. "There's another set of glassware in the broom cupboard. I haven't the slightest why Nee stashed there, but I'm exceedingly grateful not being forced to have my coffee in a bloody tumbler. I'm going to see to my wife. Pansy, do try to control that temper of yours."
Draco carefully opened the lavatory door to see Hermione kneeling before the toilet with her hair held in a fist.
"Don't look at me." Hermione spat a few times into the bowl before standing to rinse her mouth in the sink. After thoroughly brushing her teeth for what Draco thought was an exceeding amount of time, she glanced at him in the mirror.
"Do you need anything?" She appreciated the soothing circles on her lower back and shook her head.
"Pansy finally stopped shrieking and the horrid stench of Harry's attempt at pancakes is gone as well. I didn't get enough sleep last night and I've been so worried it just all culminated."
"You haven't been sick before have you?"
"No, I thought I'd managed to get through without it. Please deal with Pansy, I haven't the constitution. I'll ask Dink to bring me a spot of breakfast in the garden. Don't look at me like that; he gets downright mental if I don't allow him to do something for me every now and then." Draco stole a sweet kiss and left her in the lavatory.
"Son, please tell me you were not defiling your wife in the facilities."
"Father! Merlin, no. Nee was feeling a bit under the weather and I was tending to her. I suppose you're here for breakfast? I'll ask Dink to whip up a batch of Hermione's waffles. Salazar knows you don't come here for any other bloody purpose." The Malfoy men walked side by side down the corridor and Harry found the sight a bit off-putting.
"Draco, the Manor is filled with Weasleys. I had no other choice than to escape them before their subpar genetics infiltrated our perfect bloodline." Lucius pointedly ignored Harry Potter and sat himself on the breakfast nook bench, awaiting his breakfast.
"Uhm, Lucius you are aware your daughter-in-law is a Muggle-born witch?" Harry couldn't resist bating Lucius. It was always so easy.
"Which tells you exactly how much I detest Weasleys. Dink, I'd like my waffles now."
"He told you, didn't he Potter? Alright Pans, you ready to use your words?" Pansy snarled at the plastic cup Harry had handed her, refusing to allow her to touch another piece of glassware.
"That murdering bitch came to my house. Neville dragged me out of there in such a hurry; I didn't have the bloody chance to tell him Pucey had stuck that bloody Muggle in our spare room." Pansy hissed through her teeth, her fingernails rapidly rapping the wood table.
"Wait, Adrian Pucey stuck Susannah in your house? He was supposed to take her to the Ministry and keep her under guard." Harry unceremoniously dropped a plate of burned pancakes in front of Lucius, not even noticing when they bounced off the plate.
"You are as useless as an armless house elf." Lucius shoved the plate across the table and glared at the The Boy Who Burns Breakfast. Dink hurried across the floor and damned if Lucius didn't smile at him when presented with piping hot waffles and a fresh cup of coffee.
"Pucey said it was entirely too much trouble and Apparated her to my house. I couldn't very well argue with him, you're the idiot that gave him carte blanche. Regardless, Neville said we had to leave immediately and then we were standing outside Malfoy Manor. I didn't have a chance to return there last night so I went first thing this morning. Imagine my surprise when I saw myself bloody hexing the Muggle. She cast the Killing Curse and Disapparated before I could do much of anything. I'm never going to get the blood out of that Oriental rug." Pansy sighed and sipped her tea.
"So you don't even know if it's Chang?" Draco had enough sense to punch Harry Potter in the arm with such force he stumbled.
"Potter, you're being ridiculous. Of course it's Chang. Pansy is an Investigator. Only members of the Ministry can Apparate in and out of other's homes without the wards being adjusted. The rest of our team was either here or at Malfoy Manor. There's no one left unless Kingsley Shacklebolt himself decided he'd like to spend the day as a brunette witch."
"How did she know where Susannah would be?"
"Potter, you're still an incredibly witless wizard. Its obvious Hannah Nott conversed with Ms. Chang as they're friends and I suppose Theo did not speak of your suspicions as far as Ms. Chang is concerned; hence the reason Ms. Nott is bawling her unattractive eyes out in the garden. Do try to keep up." Lucius waved his fork about, daring the syrup to drip onto his robes and rolled his eyes.