Chapter Fifteen: Strange Goings

The first thing Draco did when he landed after the nausea of apparation had passed was the incantation to activate the sword that lay nestled safely between his extremely sore shoulder blades. Draco knew he shouldn't be out of bed and out and about already, but this mission was too far gone for Draco not be here, here where all the action was going to take place. Rather than give two shits about his health, he was here, solving another mission.

But hell, he wasn't going to take any chances this time around.

The consequences of the stupid mistake of underestimating the kidnapping murderer were still resonating through his body. Every intake of breath sent a dull ache through his chest, as his newly healed ribs and lacerations were still quite raw. Each step he took forward was a complete, laborious pain, sending continuous jolts of agony through his barely healed legs.

His limbs were protesting.

By all accounts, he really ought not to be putting any weight on his legs or any pressure on himself in general. But he had to be here – had to see this all through to the very end.

That was the other reason why activating the blade was an immediately required action. The blade not only lent him energy it had conserved for itself, but it also concentrated his energies where they needed to be. Less energy needed to be spent making his body realize that being awake was injurious and more towards pumping his heart fast enough that his muscles were constantly ready for attack.

His mind sure as hell was ready for an attack that was for sure. Being so close to the alley he had so very nearly been killed in definitely made him stand on guard. If the sword hadn't been controlling his actions so meticulously, Draco knew he would have panicked, would've gone into the shock that he hadn't had the time to experience yet from the incident. But as it was, the sword forced his mind to be calm, precise, and rational.

The blade was on survival mode and Draco was sure he was going to survive now.

And Draco was bloody thankful for it. He hadn't needed, or relied on anything more than the black blade his entire life. Not his parents or sham of a family, not school, or even his trusty wand. And that was really saying something. A wand was to a wizard as breathing was to a human. Without it, they'd be dead. Draco knew his heart was beating because of the blade alone. It was safe to say that he was completely attached to it.

It was with that attachment and newfound determination that the sword had filled Draco with that Draco stepped towards the alleyway in which Potter was basing his operation. It was the alleyway that lay directly below the abandoned boarding house Draco had scouted the area from the other day. Had it only been just a day or so since he had been there, burning under the sun? He had no concept of time and thought it was probably better that way.

Why concentrate on the past when you have a very bloody, death filled future to look forward to?

The alleyway was bustling with Aurors of all ranks, all being guided and commanded by Potter himself. It seemed that the entire Auror department was present in that little alleyway, on top of the boarding house, and even in a few of the buildings. Draco wasn't surprised at this. This certainly had become a very high profile case and Draco knew it was priority number one at the Ministry for the moment.

This was also not surprising at all, seeing as the fucker was kidnapping defenceless children, one of which was from a very high profile family. And then there was the issue of murder, Dark Arts infringement, and occupying illegal property for nefarious uses.

Draco knew that Potter probably had a list of offences in that master Auror file of his, enough offences that the fucker would be charged with a hundred lifetimes in Azkaban and more. Potter was nothing if not thorough. It was the least Draco could say about the man.

But Draco hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. Draco wanted to catch the fucker himself, wanted to be the one that finally brought the bastard down. There would be no Azkaban for the monster. Draco would definitely kill the mother fucking son of a bitch. It would only take one quick spell and he knew he hated the bastard enough for it to work.

When Draco approached Harry, pushing his way through dozens of Aurors, Harry firmly grasped his arm. "Alright there, Malfoy?" he asked Draco, his voice quiet enough so only Draco could hear him. "You look a bit green."

Draco shrugged, not paying too much attention to the Head Auror lest he give himself and his condition away. It would be extremely counterproductive if Potter caught on and sent him home. "Apparating in this condition always makes me queasy, as you know. Nothing to concern yourself with," he easily offered back. It seemed harry was too preoccupied to catch the lie and just distantly nodded back.

"We're going to infiltrate in exactly four minutes and thirty seconds," he informed Draco. "We have the alley and the escape routes surrounded and will be approaching from both entrances and the roof. The Unspeakables are working through the wards, as we speak," he paused, checking if everything was going to plan before turning back to Draco. "You good to go, mate? We're going in from the front. Get ready, I'll meet you there," he muttered hastily before clapping Draco on the back and walking off.

Trying his best not to cringe from the pain of the friendly pat, he stared at Potter's retreating back for a moment, just blankly staring. His mind didn't think about anything at all. It was a moment of complete emptiness, where he wasn't aware of the world, and the world was sure as hell not aware of him. It was a rare moment in time, where Draco Malfoy was out of sync with his surroundings. It was an even rarer moment in time that no one was paying attention to the blond enigma.

But it was the closest to peaceful he'd felt in a long while.

It didn't matter that he was in the middle of an investigation, that he was in a place that he had nearly died. Something in his mind had just clicked and it hadn't been because of a pretty bushy haired girl yelling at him to concentrate or a sword messing with his mind. He was just together for once.

Perhaps he was going places after all.

He was suddenly jerked out of his thoughts when someone collided roughly with him. He couldn't stop the cry of pain that left his unwilling mouth, but goddamn it hurt! He nearly growled at the offender, but the young man was completely oblivious to Draco's seething anger and immeasurable pain.

"Hey, you're Draco Malfoy!" the boy exclaimed. "Pleasure to meet you! I'm Austin Meyers."

"Who?" Draco asked artlessly, rubbing his arm.

"Austin Meyers. I just graduated from the Auror program last week. This is my first ever mission." The man – no, boy – seemed insanely excited by the idea. Draco couldn't care less, either way. He just wanted the little twat to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. "You know, Mr. Malfoy, you're like a legend at the Auror department. It's real amazing to meet you in person!"

Draco couldn't stop himself from glaring. On some level, Draco knew that the newbie was just excited. He didn't really mean any harm, far from it. But Draco was tired, hungry, and in pain. He really wasn't in the mood to put up with this shit. The kid was taking up his precious preparation time. He was just about to meet his number one enemy for gods' sakes! He didn't need this crap right now.

"Yes, I'm aware my reputation precedes me," Draco replied coldly, nearly glaring daggers at the boy.

The boy – Argus, or whatever the hell his name was – still didn't get the picture. "You're a hero!" the boy exclaimed happily. He seemed happy, completely thrilled at the prospect of walking on the same ground as his idol.

"You said you're new here, right?" Draco asked. The boy nodded eagerly. "I don't know if your superiors have had the time to tell you this or not, we are after all working on the biggest case since the war, but we all have our places here." He paused to see if the boy was following his drift, but the idiot clearly wasn't. So Draco decided he'd just have to crush the poor thing's bubble. "Mine is to catch the fucker in that building over there," he gestured, "yours is to run errands for the higher ranked Aurors. So if you'll excuse me..."

The boy's face had fallen, and for a split second, Draco almost felt bad for being so cruel. But what did the boy expect? Draco didn't even know the kid, he wasn't obligated to play nice with anyone here but Potter. This was serious shit, anyhow! There was no time for fun and games, idol worshipping and silliness. The boy had to stay focused and learn his place or he'd get killed on the field.

Or worse, horribly maimed and stuck behind a desk for the rest of his life.

Draco didn't have another spare moment to think about the unimportant matter, because the operation was about to commence. This left him no more time to regain his sense of strange calm. He was kind of unprepared, but it didn't matter. He was as ready as he could be under the circumstances – half dead, half in shock, and half sleep deprived.

It was game time.

He made his way towards Potter who looked at him for confirmation. He couldn't do anything else but nod. He wasn't about to stop the mission from commencing just because he wasn't feeling the best. So alright, he felt like he was about to keel over and vomit. But this had to be over today. He had waited too long, worked way too hard to not continue now. There were countless Aurors to back him up now, though, so there was no way he was going to die.

That's consolation at least...

Potter sent the word out to his massive team to commence and just like that it all began. Yes, this was the beginning of the end. It would all be over in a few hours.

The Unspeakables were working their magic onto the door. Draco couldn't even imagine how many sleepless nights had been passed in the Department of Mysteries to discover and find counter spells to all the spells, wards, and runes that were placed on the door. There were layers upon layers of magic, as the sword showed him. Draco was surprised that the Unspeakables had managed to be prepared in such a short amount of time. Perhaps the Ministry wasn't completely useless after all.

It couldn't be completely useless in the first place, he amended in his head. The boy wonder was there running things, of course. And there was always Granger. Everyone knew that anything Granger did went splendidly. Everything she touched turned to gold.

Including him.

She had touched him, hadn't she? Yes, she had, and he was all the better for it. He wasn't a completely cold, silver Slytherin at heart anymore. No, she'd stuck her golden claws into his back and made him see red.

Yeah, he was turning into a fucking bloody, mushy, strong feeling Gryffindor at heart for her. He wasn't sure exactly when it had happened. She had made him reign in his jack arse, arrogant, rude antics by wearing her emotions on her sleeve. She'd brought his son home from the jaws of his snarky, snake wife. She'd taken care of him when he'd nearly died. She'd bloody put up with him all this time and had stayed!

No one had ever stayed with Draco, never in his entire life. His parents, his own wife, his friends... they'd all left for greater and nicer deals, leaving Draco to sit in their settling dust. He had never really minded it, of course, hadn't given two shits about it. He had had his work, Blaise, and his fortune. But work had tried to kill him and Blaise was gone. He couldn't exactly have a nice conversation with his money now, could he?

But it wasn't hopeless. He did care now, now that Granger had stepped in. She had changed his view of the world, had changed him without him even noticing.

He might even tolerate her now.

Oh, who was he kidding? He was clearly obsessed with the pretty brunette. It was almost relieving to admit it to himself, to finally acknowledge the weight that had settled into his chest. Granger – Hermione – had changed him, had forced him to re-evaluate his life. Things could be better after this mission was completed. He'd deal with his lack of friends, deal with his bitch wife, raise his son properly, and go on a long fucking vacation.

Who knew, maybe he'd even ask Granger out. That is, if she ever wanted to see his sorry mug ever again after this whole ordeal was over.

Feeling a little mentally settled, he watched the Unspeakables break into a sweat in front of the heavily guarded door. Draco could tell it was really complicated magic - spells and curses Draco had never even heard of before. All manner of coloured spells hit the door, complicated wand work ensued, and long, intricate incantations were muttered, until finally, the door creaked open.

Draco let out a breath that he hadn't even been aware he was holding.

Harry paused, waiting for the confirmation that the Unspeakables at the other back entrance had been able to get through. They all waited in eager anticipation, silence heavy among them. Draco's heart started to pound wildly. He had never been so nervous on a mission before this. No mission had ever mattered as much as this one clearly did.

He is not here...He is not here... He is not here...

Draco paused, not understanding, not willing to believe that the sword had actually said what he thought it had said. But it couldn't be possible. The man had to be here. This was his goddamn base! This was where he was keeping the children, it had to be. They all had worked too hard for it all to have just gone to waste.

Empty, it's empty, the sword whispered. Left killed, all gone, nothing, nothing...

Draco stopped dead in his tracks just as Potter stepped forward. Apparently, Potter had received the confirmation to proceed. Should Draco go in anyways? It couldn't hurt. It couldn't be a bad thing, really. He'd only leave knowing more about the psychopath. And that would be valuable information in the future.

But he knew the reality was that it would just be a huge waste of time. If there was no man to catch here, Draco ought to leave and find another lead. They were running out of time.

Draco just didn't understand. He had been sure that this was the area of the psychopath's hideout. He had known it on instinct and his instinct was never wrong. Perhaps the man had gotten spooked and abandoned ship? Perhaps he had killed the children and gone to a different continent to go into hiding? It would be the smart thing to do, to leave and bide your time for the next opportune moment.

But Draco didn't think that was right. The man was definitely still here. As far as Draco knew, he had the taste for extravagance and power. If he really had killed the children, he would have left their bodies for the Aurors to find and that hadn't happened yet.

Yet.

So that left two options. Either the man had never kept the children here or he had never used this place as a hideout. Draco immediately dismissed the second option. Why ward a place so heavily, why kill people here to protect a secret, if you have no use for it? That wasn't logical and the man seemed to be very logical and rational, if anything.

Draco couldn't think any farther, though. His head hurt and his thoughts were completely scrambled. He couldn't do this on his own, he realized. He needed help, and he knew just the person to help him get the job done.

"He's not here," he said loudly to the other Aurors just before he apparated away.

/

When Hugo awoke, he was groggy but not completely heartbroken. Yes, things hadn't been going in the best of directions for him lately. Two people had already died on his watch and who knew how many more there were to come? But there was still hope. There was still a plan.

He would somehow just have to make it work. They all would.

Hugo and the other children had spent hours collaborating on the plan. It wasn't a very good plan – like his last plan hadn't exactly been the best of ideas – but it was also all that they had. The children realized that they would have to put their faith in it. Hugo had already dedicated himself to it and when Hugo believed in something, he stuck with it to the end.

Like mother like son.

They had whispered ideas back and forth to each other, quiet enough that they wouldn't draw any attention to themselves. They weren't exactly aware of what kinds of charms or monitoring system the man had on them. The blonde girl that Hugo had become so fond of over his ordeal didn't seem to find anything wrong with barely audible whispers. Since she had been here the longest, they simply took her judgement on the matter. It was really all they had to go on.

Besides, Hugo trusted her. When she didn't refute the plan, but only added onto it quietly, Hugo knew that they might actually have some kind of chance to escape. Even if it was only a little one and only a few of them (if any) would manage. They just had to hope the sacrifice was worth it.

It was worth it for Hugo. Hugo wanted to see his mother again. He hadn't told her he loved her before he'd been captured and brought here. He wanted to say sorry for talking to strangers. He wanted to apologize for putting her through the worry she was no doubt in. But more than that, he just wanted to be out of here and be safe. He didn't want to see his friends die. He didn't want to die.

It was really scary.

But still, the plan wasn't as good as it could be. There were kinks that Hugo couldn't find answers to. Neither could the other children, for that matter. Hugo didn't think it was safe to even attempt escaping if they didn't figure out these kinks first. It would just kill their opportunity and then they'd all die. This was something that Hugo really wanted to avoid at all costs.

For example, how were they supposed to know that the man had left the vincity? It didn't really matter since the man was almost nearly always in the room just beyond the one the children were caged in. They could hear him. Sometimes he would be pacing, sometimes he would perform magic, other times he would talk to himself, or others.

He was always there, so they couldn't risk escaping. The man would just catch them and take whatever little magic they had right then.

That was another problem. They had no idea how long they had left to carry out the flawed escape plan in the first place. While Hugo wasn't completely sure that the plan would work, he was more than willing to risk it. The last time he had had a plan, he had waited too long and his opportunity had sailed right past his own eyes. If he had perhaps risked it, he and the others could've been gone from here. Perhaps the new little boy who he had never even talked to would be alive.

Hugo wanted to cry at the prospect. He wasn't used to making these kinds of decisions. The others looked up to him. He was the one with the plan so he should be the one to decide when to carry out the action. But Hugo just didn't know when. All he could do was sit there and hope that when the time came, he would know what to do.

But he had hoped for that once and it had failed him greatly.

It was really an exasperating procedure, arguing with himself continuously in his mind. The others just waited patiently in fear for him to commence, if he were to commence. They did not comment in fear that the man on the other side of the door would hear and he did not assail their fears in case he missed something that occurred on the other side of the door.

And much did occur. Hugo always listened, had made a habit of it at a very young age. He was used to listening, categorizing, and trying to figure out of that information would be useful to him at some point in the future. It had helped him survive here, thus far.

As he listened today, he found that the man was a little more aggravated than usual. Sure, the man had quite a short temper, but today it seemed even worse. Hugo hoped that the man wouldn't come to take it out on them. But it was far more than that. The man seemed desperate, afraid, actually concerned. Hugo wondered what had happened for the man to act so out of character. He perked his ears to hopefully catch something more out of the conversation the man was having with the other people.

"They took the bait, then?" he was saying.

A woman with a gravelly voice responded, "Yes. They're going to raid the place soon. Potter's been there since last night..." She trailed off.

The man gave a weak laugh. "Didn't know the bugger had it in him." There were a chorus of laughs and some muttered words that Hugo couldn't really make out. "They're onto us, Charlie. We can't risk too much more here. Potter's not completely blind and you two are more of a liability than an asset."

There was more silence and an occasional murmur. Hugo's heart started to pound wildly in his chest. They had mentioned Uncle Harry. There were no other Potters that Hugo knew of. That had to mean that Uncle Harry and his Aurors were looking for Hugo and the other children! A little pinprick of hope blossomed in Hugo's chest before he promptly squashed it. The man had said that the Aurors had taken the bait.

That meant that they had fallen into a trap.

Hugo really wished that nothing bad had happened to Uncle Harry or any of the Aurors. No one deserved to die, especially just because they were looking for Hugo. It pained Hugo to think that this was all his fault. If only he had not gone off with the stranger to get cookies...

But if he hadn't, he would never have met his friends, and they'd have all died. At least now they had some chance of escaping. So this was good. Hugo wouldn't let them suffer for much longer. This was...news, at the very least.

"We're almost ready for the ritual, boss. Won't take long now," said a voice. It was a very gruff and gravelly voice. Hugo recognized it from before. He was the man that had called his friend disposable.

But then the gravity of the situation hit Hugo. The man had said that the ritual was almost ready. That meant that they were almost ready to take their magic away! Which meant... there wasn't all that much more time before the man tried to kill them! Hugo almost fainted.

When he looked to the side to find the blonde little girl staring at him, all he could do was stare with panicked eyes. It surprised him when she smiled comfortingly and nodded at him. He knew what that meant. He would have to throw the plan into motion very, very soon. They would have to be ready for it. They didn't have much time left.

It was either run or be killed and Hugo was preparing the best he could to run as fast as his legs would carry him.

/

Hermione had been sitting on Draco's bed ever since he had apparated away, clutching his pillow to her chest. She became increasingly panicky by the minute. They were going to find her baby today. Malfoy was going to make good on his promise and then she'd be able to hold her child again. Everything would finally be alright.

She had no doubt that Malfoy would fulfill his mission. She knew he was the kind of person that did what he said he would do. He had promised to let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and had accomplished the impossible. It was the same. He had promised he would bring her son back and she instinctively knew that he would.

That wasn't the issue.

The issue was whether her son was even alive to bring back. She didn't want to bury the body of her child. No. It was almost unimaginable. And that was only the worst case scenario. What if Malfoy brought back a crazed, tortured child? What if he had been scarred? What if...what if...

She couldn't even bring herself to think of the possibilities. All that had gotten her through the past few days had been Malfoy's promise and a firm insistence to keep a blank mind. She knew if she opened her mind to the numerous possibilities, she would tear her hair out and go crazy.

No, it really wasn't safe to think of such things.

So she didn't think. Instead, she held Malfoy's pillow to her chest as if it would protect her from anything and everything that could possibly want to hurt her. Even bad memories and thoughts. She felt that, in a way, it would keep her safe. It smelled distinctly of him and the scent had somehow taken on the ability to comfort her in the past few days. The man himself was an enigma that she really wanted to unravel.

But that was also not a safe topic to think of. At least, not for the moment. She couldn't let her mind ponder such an eventuality when her son was missing. The concept was unthinkable. Nevertheless, she couldn't deny that when she was with him, she almost felt like things were going to be okay. And she really didn't know why that was.

She had been so lost in thought, or lack thereof, that she screamed when Malfoy apparated into the bedroom. He jumped at her scream and she immediately flushed, muttering apologies as she got up, tossing the pillow away as if afraid of being caught. The action was completely missed by him, however. He was flustered, a confused look about his eye.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Her heart was pounding. Hugo wasn't with him. Was he going to tell her bad news? Was Hugo... could he be... "What happened?" she forced herself to ask instead.

Malfoy looked positively disgruntled. "The psycho wasn't there. He should have been there, but he wasn't!" Draco dropped his head into his hands. "I can't think, Hermione, I can't think. I need your help again."

She came to sit next to him from where he'd dropped himself on the bed. "What can I do?" she asked quietly.

"Help me," he growled. "My head...it's all scrambled. I know there's something missing, but I can't put it the fuck together. It's supposed to be obvious." He was breathing harshly. She knew he really ought to be sleeping off his injuries, but she knew that whatever she said would be ignored. It would be best just to go along with whatever he wanted. It was in her best interests as well. "I can't think..."

She gently stroked his back and he immediately relaxed. She was amazed that it had been so easy to calm him down. Perhaps he just needed a little bit of guidance? "Why do you think he wasn't there?" she tried.

"I don't know," he groaned. They sat silently for a moment while she continued stroking his back. He didn't raise his head from his hands and she didn't prompt him to. "I think... I don't think he ever kept the children there to begin with, or at least not for a while."

"Why?"

He paused, thinking. "The place had to be important for him, there were too many protection spells there for it not to be."

"But?" she prompted.

"But... he wasn't there." He seemed completely annoyed by the idea, and she supposed he was. "I think he left it as bait for us, you know? Have all the Aurors in one spot while he does what he needs to do. It was a trap, I think. Does that make sense?" Hermione nodded. That made perfect sense.

"So what are you going to do?" Hermione asked. He just shrugged his shoulders and leaned closer to her. She had the distinct feeling that he wasn't even aware that she was touching him, but didn't mind. If this was what helped him concentrate, then so be it. She slowly began to stroke his hair and he came even closer, all the tension in his shoulders completely relaxing. "Have you a plan?"

"No plan," he murmured. "No leads..."

So they were at a dead end. He didn't know what to think and she didn't have the first clue. Perhaps if he hadn't been so injured he'd have been able to figure things out and been on top of it all, but he was sick. It wasn't really his fault. She couldn't... blame him.

The weirdest part was she had absolutely no inclination to.

Then it struck her. "You said there's something missing." He looked up at her confused. "Earlier, when you first came in, you said that there's something missing. Why did you say that?"

His eyes were blank for a moment and she was worried that his concussion had damaged him irreversibly, but then he focused on her face. "Missing?" he clarified.

"Missing," she nodded.

"Hmm..." He seemed to ponder the issue. "Missing. There is a reason missing from the explanation..." He trailed off in thought and she let him, hoping that this would work. It had to work. This was all she had, after all. If Draco didn't pull his act together, everything would go down the drain.

She intertwined her fingers with him and for a moment all he did was stare down at their joined hands as if amazed that she had done such a thing. Then, very unexpectedly, he raised his head and smiled brilliantly at her. She felt his thumb stroke her hand and could feel herself start to blush.

They passed some time in silence where he sat there, thinking.

"When Hugo went missing..." he finally started after a long silence, "how long did it take for you to find out that he was gone?" It seemed to take him a lot of effort to articulate the question.

She thought back. "I had breakfast with him and went to work. I didn't come home until about three in the morning and didn't figure it out until nine the next day." Admitting this out was entirely shameful. She was a horrid mother. But it was especially embarrassing to admit it out loud to him, a man who obviously loved his son dearly.

But it seemed he had no judgement in his eyes. "And during the day...Who watched him during the day?"

"I...I had a nanny for him," she said. She felt disgusted in herself.

He nodded to himself as if confirming something. "Right, love. I want to see the nanny."