"So you and Potter seemed pretty chummy back there," Draco teased, as he filled out the parchmentwork for Hermione's discharge from St. Mungo's.
Ginny glared at her best friend's husband. "Shut it Malfoy. I wasn't the one screaming my feelings out for half of St. Mungo's to hear."
"Maybe you should've," Draco suggested, only half-joking.
"Harry needs to grow up," said Ginny, handing Draco another release form.
Draco arched an eyebrow as he tiredly signed his name for what felt like the eleventh time. "This, coming from someone who hexed her ex-boyfriend to have toads follow him everywhere he went?"
Ginny sighed. "I admit that wasn't my finest hour. I don't even know why I did that."
Draco placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Anger and love make people do stupid things, especially together."
"Are you speaking from experience?" Ginny questioned shrewdly,
"Not at all," said Draco hastily, putting his quill down. "These are done," he said, as he rapped the release forms against the counter to stack them and handed them to the bored receptionist.
"These seem to be in order," said the receptionist quickly shuffling through them. "You are free to take Mrs Malfoy home."
Draco nodded. "Excellent. Let's go, Ginny."
"Don't think I didn't notice the topic change, smooth as it was," said Ginny, as they walked back towards Hermione's room. "I just hope you are better at covering your tracks around Hermione, because she may not be as forgiving as you'd hope."
"Duly noted," Draco replied carefully, as they entered the hospital room after a short knock.
Hermione started guiltily from the notes she was reading. "All done?" she asked, as she surreptitiously tried to shove them under her pillow.
"You're free to come home," Draco confirmed, as he reached over extracted the notes from behind the pillows. "Why are you reading the case notes?" he frowned, as he studied them. "You need to put all of this aside for the next few days and focus on getting better. Stress is not going to help you right now, given everything."
"So I said to her when she asked for them," said Blaise, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"I just wanted to make sure I got everything down from the accident today while it was still fresh in my mind," replied Hermione, defensively.
Harry sighed. "Don't worry yourself Hermione, just let us take care of things while you recover."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I'm not an invalid, you know," she snapped. "I'm not doing anything that I can't handle."
"Was I this annoying when you were trying to save my life?" Harry questioned, grinning wryly.
"Worse," Ron and Hermione answered together.
Draco handed the notes back to Blaise and picked up Hermione's bag. "Let's go home. Mother will no doubt insist on staying awake until we return, and she needs her rest too."
"I need to get back to the Ministry and report to Podmore," said Ron, gathering his things. "Hope you feel better soon, Hermione."
Ron leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Hermione's unruly head before he left, causing Draco to scowl at his retreating back. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the cramped hospital room turned to tense, as it dawned on the occupants that there were currently two couples, that were at odds with each other, in close proximity. Blaise studied his feet while Pansy focused on smoothing Hermione's hair down, leaving Draco in the middle of Harry and Ginny, who were staring at each other in silence.
Finally, Harry cleared his throat nervously and softly addressed Ginny. "Can I walk you home?"
"Sure," said Ginny, a faint trace of a smile lingering around her lips. "I'll Floo you tomorrow, Hermione. Take care of yourself."
"Goodbye," Hermione called out, as they left.
Draco could've sworn he saw Hermione painfully elbow Blaise, who addressed a point halfway between Pansy and the floor. "Can I walk you home too, Pansy?"
"No thank you," replied Pansy tartly. "Unlike Harry and Ginny, I have perfect recollection of a certain Apparition test I passed over three years ago, and I plan on using that skill to see myself to my front door."
"At least let me see you to the Apparition point," protested Blaise, locking eyes with Pansy.
Pansy arched an eyebrow. "Why? So you can watch me leave once again? I'd recommend investing in a Pensieve if you want to relieve that particular memory. Frankly, I have no interest in offering you a refresher," she turned to Hermione and gave her a brief hug. "Look after her," she ordered Draco. "I'll see you both soon, goodnight."
Her back ramrod straight, she walked out the room and slammed the door behind her.
Draco clapped Blaise on the back. "Sorry mate, guess you can't win them all."
Blaise avoided looking at the other two. "You both should get out of here, I need to go get a copy of Hermione's patient notes from Healer Agnes."
Draco stared into the crackling fire as he sipped from the ornate goblet in front of him. In spite of the Healer's assurances to the contrary, he had checked on a sleeping Hermione every half hour since she had finally retired to the master suites after Narcissa and Lucius had ensured that she was fully recovered. The silence enveloped him like a noose, choking out everything except the heavy bubbles of guilt sinking to his stomach. He was no stranger to insomnia, but he hadn't experienced a bout this severe since his sixth year. Every time Draco involuntarily dwelled on how close he had come to losing his wife because of his childish actions, he shuddered and topped up his Firewhiskey.
A knock broke him out of his self-castigating thoughts. "Malfoy?"
"Oh, Potter, didn't hear you come in," said Draco listlessly, not bothering to turn his head. "Come sit."
Harry settled himself in the armchair opposite him and gratefully accepted the goblet of Firewhiskey Draco pushed towards him. "How are you doing mate?"
Draco shrugged miserably, looking into the flames. "I almost lost her today, and I have no one to blame for it but myself."
"You can't think that way," said Harry firmly, pushing the goblet back towards Draco. "If Hermione hadn't been there, it would've been your mother in the hospital instead of her."
"I'm no good for her, Potter," Draco said heavily. "You and Weasley protected her for seven years, no matter what foolishly reckless adventures you lot went on. We've only been married a few months and I've already failed at keeping her safe."
Harry laughed. "Have you met Hermione? If you think for one second that Ron and I protected her, you have truly lost your mind. It was usually the other way around. I've lost count of the number of times she's saved our hides. Besides, do you think for one second that Hermione would let you or anyone else protect her from anything? She's a capable witch, Malfoy, and she can get herself out of danger, but even she isn't infallible enough not to get injured in the process."
"I guess you're right," said Draco half-heartedly.
"If it makes you feel any better, I think Hermione got injured more times with me and Ron than she has with you," offered Harry, grinning.
Draco smirked, some of the colour returning to his face. "Good to know I'm beating you at yet another thing. Also, it's 'Ron and I'."
Harry rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "You sound just like her."
"I'm glad Granger feels as strongly about good grammar as I do," Draco shot back, his voice filled with mirth.
"Your children will be the bane of the next generation's existence," Harry replied, running his hands through his hair. "Smug, know-it-all, grammar enforcing little ankle-biters."
"With my flawless hair, naturally," Draco added proudly.
"And they will be so very modest," Harry muttered sarcastically. "My heart goes out to my future children for having to put up with yours."
Draco smirked. "Perhaps they will learn a bit about how to maintain impeccable hair from mine. Consider them lucky."
"I hope to Merlin your children have Hermione's hair," Harry joked, pouring himself a Firewhiskey. "It'd serve you right."
"Speaking of procreating, how did things go with Weaselette?" Draco asked, genuinely interested.
Harry's face nearly split into two as he grinned widely. "I walked her to Ron's and since he was at the Ministry, we had the place to ourselves. She invited me upstairs for a drink and we were talking all this time. I asked her if she wanted to go to lunch later this week, and she agreed without a second thought."
"She might change her mind if she sees the stupid expression on your face right now," Draco retorted.
"Seeing how we're talking about stupid things, are you going to tell Hermione that you changed her plans with Adrian?" Harry asked, swilling his drink around.
Draco shook his head decisively. "I prefer to make it to Juls' fifth birthday with all my body parts intact."
A sudden shuffling from the doorway made both boys hastily turn to investigate. Draco was met with a sight that chilled his blood and filled him with dread –in the doorway, illuminated by the flickering flames, stood Julius. He blinked away the last vestiges of sleepiness from his eyes and walked to his father, dragging his eiderdown blanket behind him.
"Juls!" Draco exclaimed, forcing himself to sound normal. "What are you doing out of bed?" And how much did you hear?!
Julius climbed onto Draco's lap. "I waked up. Is mummy okay?"
Harry leaned forward and tousled his hair affectionately. "Your mum is just fine, Juls. She's sleeping upstairs."
"Daddy, why did you change mummy's plans?" Julius asked, his little face screwed up with confusion. "Was it because she has ouchies?"
"Yes," said Draco enthusiastically, seizing the excuse. "But you can't tell mummy that."
"Why not?" Julius replied suspiciously. "Mummy says secrets are bad."
Draco looked to Harry desperately, who shrugged unhelpfully. "Sometimes secrets are fine," said Draco eventually. "But only when grown-ups have them," he added hastily. Great parenting moment number one: giving my four year old son a fine example of double standards. Go Draco.
"What if mummy asks me?" Julius persisted.
"If you don't tell your mummy, I'll give you a cookie," said Harry, frantically.
Julius opened a pudgy fist to reveal half a crumbling cookie inside it. "I already have a cookie and mummy says too many cookies are bad."
"Just don't tell your mother anything," pleaded Draco.
"But what if mummy asks me?" Julius repeated anxiously. "Mummy says lies are bad."
Stupid mummy and her moral high ground.
"Well," replied Draco, cautiously. "If your mummy directly asks you if I changed her plans, you may say yes, but don't tell her I changed them if she doesn't ask. That way you're not lying." Great parenting moment number two: teaching my four year old son how to lie by omission.
"Okay Daddy," said Julius agreeably, as he curled up against his father's chest and his eyes fluttered shut.
"That was close," Harry said, downing his drink.
Draco sighed with relief. "You're telling me. I should put Juls to bed and check on Granger. I'll see you in the morning Potter."
"Night Malfoy," Harry nodded.
The next morning Hermione shouted down protests from Draco, Narcissa, Harry and Lucius, and insisted that she was in absolutely perfect condition to go to work. Having missed an entire afternoon's work the previous day, she was dreading the state of her in-tray, and she preferred to deal with it before it grew to unmanageable proportions. After a particularly enjoyable breakfast, where Julius presented her with an untidily folded piece of parchment that had the words 'happi your hom mummi' scrawled on it in irregularly shaped letters, Hermione was almost tempted to go back on her decision to go to work just so that she could spend some time with her stepson (and if the opportunity for a lesson on the use of apostrophes, 'y's and silent 'e's happened to come up, so be it!). However, she steeled herself to follow Harry to the Floo and was infinitely glad about her resolve once she caught sight of her overflowing in-tray.
She worked unwaveringly until almost noon, when she stepped out of her office for a coffee before lunch and caught sight of Vanessa. Hermione nodded to her awkwardly, noticing the fresh vase of flowers with a card that read 'happy one-month anniversary' next to her. Vanessa nodded back, but before she could say anything, Hermione guiltily fled to the Ministry cafeteria. It was while she was standing in the line to pay for her lukewarm coffee, that a drunken memory of Vanessa telling the girls about her boyfriend came back to her. Frowning, Hermione remembered that Vanessa had admitted to dating an Azkaban guard. Her brain whirred at double-speed as she remembered the breach in Azkaban that had led to Rookwood's murder. Could it be…?
"That will be three sickles miss," the cashier broke into her thoughts.
Hermione dumped a handful of coins on the counter and turned away, her brain still buzzing with her revelation.
"You forgot your change miss," the cashier called out.
"Keep it," said Hermione, as she quickened her pace until she was almost running out of the cafeteria.
She took the stairs two at a time, breaking into a run through the hallways, until she ended up outside Harry and Ron's office. She banged on the door once and then unlocked it impatiently, only to discover that it was empty. Quashing her disappointment, she quickly left them a note stating that she had to urgently speak with them after lunch. Determined not to give up so easily, she made her way to Blaise's office, only to find it similarly unoccupied. Finally admitting defeat, Hermione forced herself to return to her office and focus on work until Blaise came back to pick her up during lunch. In spite of consistent demands on their free time due to the wildly unforseen events of the past few weeks, both Hermione and Blaise were resolute to continue their hunt for the perfect rings to replace the ones Draco had misplaced. Hermione tapped her foot to vent some of her pent-up energy as she worked on the scrolls in front of her, hoping that by the end of her lunch hour, she would be able to tie up two loose ends.
However, by the time a tired Blaise came to pick her up, they had only minutes to spare before they were due at the house of an established Wizarding jeweller who was enjoying partial retirement. Having saved enough money from his numerous creations during the last fifty years of his highly successful career, it was only for extremely special cases –involving obscene amounts of galleons, naturally– that he would give any prospective customer time of the day. Miraculously, they made it to his sprawling country house with half a minute to spare. Blaise gave Hermione an encouraging smile as he reached for the large door knocker and announced their presence.
"I'm sure we'll be able to get exactly what you need from here," assured Blaise, mistaking Hermione's antsy behaviour for nerves.
"I hope so," replied Hermione distractedly, smoothing down her robes. "I need to talk to you about something right after our appointment."
Blaise gave her a worried look. "Is everything okay?"
"I think I have a lead–" Hermione was cut off as the door swung open.
A stooped house-elf that made Kreacher look young stood there, scowling at the visitors. He made a half-hearted stab at a clumsy bow and indicated to them to follow him. Blaise gestured to Hermione to go first, who reluctantly obliged, annoyed that her chance to talk to him had been taken away. The trooped through an opulent corridor and walked into one of the most elegant living rooms that Hermione had ever seen. At the far end of a grandly carved couch sat a white-haired wizard, his green eyes sharp against his heavily lined face.
"Welcome Mr Zabini, Mrs Malfoy," he said, rising to his feet with surprising spryness. "I am Lysander Quentin, and you may address me by my first name. Do sit."
"Good afternoon Lysander," said Blaise politely, taking a seat. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with us."
Lysander waited until Hermione had settled herself before he sat down. "Your mother is a very loyal customer of mine, and she can be rather persuasive. Tell me, what can I do for you two today?"
Hermione slipped off her wedding ring and held it out to Lysander, who conjured a pair of silk gloves and put them on before picking it up from her palm. "I would like a wedding ring similar to this made for my husband," explained Hermione. "My husband seems to have misplaced the original."
"Simple enough," said Lysander, as he scrutinised her wedding ring. "The emeralds are of excellent quality, but since I don't plan on using quite as many in his ring as there are in yours, I don't see any obstacle. Was that all?"
"My husband and I also exchanged promise rings," Hermione said, as she removed hers and handed it over. "His met the same fate as the wedding ring. This design might be a bit harder to replicate."
Lysander's lined face looked shocked as he studied the promise ring, his shrewd eyes widening.
Blaise cleared his throat. "Is there a problem, Lysander?"
"Do you realise the raw magical power behind this ring?" Lysander questioned hoarsely, his hand shaking slightly as he handed the ring back to Hermione.
Hermione and Blaise exchanged mystified looks. "Raw magical power?" Hermione asked, slipping the ring back on. "What do you mean?"
Lysander closed his eyes and leaned back into the sofa, suddenly looking every decade of his age. "Mrs Malfoy," he started, slowly opening his eyes. "You don't realise the danger that has come from your husband losing your ring's mate. I haven't seen a ring like this for nearly a century, mainly because the type of marriage for which this ring is typically exchanged has been long outdated."
"What do you mean when you say 'danger'?" Hermione probed, her voice laced with panic.
"Mrs Malfoy, surely you know what the Odium Fati is," Lysander answered, his eyes sharply focused on her hand. "This type of marriage curse is extremely powerful, but did you ever think of the reason behind why it is no longer used? I'd like to think that you're not naive enough to think that it's because pure-bloods are more liberal today, or that parents are less controlling of their children's choices in recent times."
Hermione numbly shook her head, lost for words.
"Why is it no longer used?" prompted Blaise, gripping Hermione's trembling hand in his.
"Do you know the implications had you ignored the curse?" asked Lysander, pulling out a monocle.
"If we had failed to promise ourselves to each other in due time, then we would've lost the most important person in our lives, and all our close friends and family would find themselves in increasing misfortune with every passing day that we failed to comply," Hermione recited from memory, a chill raking through her body as she remembered all too clearly the feeling of despair that had plunged into her stomach when McGonagall had informed her. It felt like almost a lifetime ago that she had been whisked out of her bed by Draco Malfoy and been taken to Hogwarts in her faded blue nightgown.
"Correct," said Lysander dryly. "And had you not wed within a month of the promise ceremony?"
"The same penalty," Hermione whispered.
Lysander nodded. "Correct again, Mrs Malfoy. Now that I have ascertained your excellent memory, surely you remember what would happen if you were to be physically separated from your husband?"
Hermione's world fell around her in shambles as the full impact of his words hit her like a freight train. She was barely aware of herself reciting tonelessly, "after a week, the people we loved the most would start leading lives of increasing misfortune, and within six months they would die."
She barely heard Blaise's sharp intake of breath next to her, as her mind struggled to dismiss the sinking feeling of clarity that was sweeping through her body.
"The promise rings are filled with extremely powerful raw, protective magic," Lysander continued, as if he were unaware of the turmoil raging inside Hermione. "In simple words, they minimise the risk of the couple being separated. The reason this curse fell out of practice was because, not unlike your husband, over time many couples lost one or both their rings. Without the protective magic, the chances of the couple being physically separated through circumstance grew higher. There was one particularly famous incident around seventy-five years ago, wherein the wife wrongly Apparated right to the edge of a cliff, miles away from where she was meant to be, and lost her wand trying to regain her balance. In the time that it took the wife to be reunited with her husband without magic, over a week had passed, and her brother experienced a particularly bad bout of misfortune that led to him losing his savings in a game of cards. The night before the she returned, her brother was found hanging from the ceiling of his bedroom."
"Merlin," Blaise muttered, shuddering at the grisly tale.
Her mind spinning, Hermione suddenly got to her feet. "Thank you for your time Lysander, we'll be in touch. I just realised that Blaise and I are urgently due back at the Ministry. Excuse us."
Hermione practically dragged a bewildered Blaise from Lysander's living room, the events of the past months replaying themselves over and over in her brain. She Side-Along Apparated both of them back to the Ministry, and raced towards the Aurors' offices, muttering under her breath. Confused and worried for her sanity, Blaise followed her unquestioningly. Hermione stopped outside Harry and Ron's office and rapped smartly, shifting her weight restlessly from foot to foot until it opened.
"Hermione, Blaise, come in," Harry said, looking from one to the other in surprise. "What's wrong? I just saw your note."
"I need to use your Floo," Hermione replied, without preamble as she strode towards the fireplace. "We have multiple leads on the case."
Ron jumped to his feet. "What leads?" he looked to Blaise.
Blaise shrugged. "Beats me."
Hermione threw a fistful of glittering powder and announced her destination –Malfoy Enterprises– before disappearing into the flames. Seconds later, she reappeared with a puzzled Draco in tow, who still held a quill in one hand and a scroll of parchment in the other.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, frowning. "What is Malfoy doing here?"
"I'd love to know the same thing," scowled Draco. "Granger just pulled me out of a meeting with my clients, all of whom are probably making incorrect assumptions about which one of us wears the pants in this relationship."
"Not that incorrect," Ron whispered loudly to Blaise and Harry, who sniggered.
"I've worked it all out," said Hermione, ignoring Ron. "I worked out what's been going on with the Portkeys. They weren't trying to kidnap either of us, they were trying to separate us."
"What in the name of Merlin are you on about woman?" Draco snapped, Conjuring a chair in the cramped office and seating himself. "Can you please start from the beginning?"
"Fine," Hermione conceded, taking in a calming breath. "All this while we've been wondering about two unknowns, the first being why someone would curse us to get married in the first place, and the second, why someone would be trying to harm or kidnap us. Turns out, both the unknowns were known to us all along. When we wondered why we were cursed with this particular curse out of all the possible marriage curses, the most obvious answer never occurred to us –this is the only curse where our loved ones are affected if we fail to comply, and not us ourselves."
Draco paled. "Merlin…"
"And we kept wondering why someone would whisk us off to random places, yet leave us unharmed," Hermione continued, her face flushed. "They were trying to separate us, but our promise rings had raw protective magic that thwarted them every time. To confirm my theory, the only time we were ever ambushed while we had been Portkeyed was simply a distraction for the thugs to take one of our rings away from us."
"No wonder Draco lost both his wedding ring and his promise ring. We should've picked up on that sooner," Blaise groaned, shaking his head at how obvious it all seemed now. "They probably took both to make sure they didn't get the incorrect one by accident."
Harry whistled. "So they're not after either of you at all, they're after one of your loved ones."
"Lucius Malfoy has a lot of enemies," Ron added, pulling out his notes.
Draco looked at though he would rather admit that Hermione wore the pants in their relationship than classify Lucius Malfoy as one of his 'loved ones'.
Hermione suddenly froze, her brain teeming with evidence that her heart tried to deny. "Hand me those notes, Ronald," she said faintly, willing herself to be wrong. One word repeatedly stood out to Hermione amidst the criss-cross of the chronological notes. She felt her blood run cold as her eyes ran over the parchment again and again, hoping against hope that she was wrong. She muffled a cry against her knuckles as her mind confirmed the dots she had started connecting. The oft-written name kept catching her eye, as if it were mocking her pain.
Narcissa.
"What I don't get is why is why go to such lengths to hurt Narcissa," said Ron, picking up from where they had left off at the Ministry when they had decided to pause and continue the conversation at a place with enough alcohol to subdue a livid Draco. They picked the Enchanted Swan purely because the refilling teapots would give them privacy from over-enthusiastic waiters hovering around to top their glasses up.
Hermione sighed patronisingly. "Why enter Harry in the Triwizard tournament just to make him take a Portkey?"
"The Manor has been under the surveillance of the Ministry," reminded Blaise, before Ron could snap at Hermione. "If they wanted to get to Narcissa, they had to be creative. Any sign of Dark magic or interference would've been detected immediately, but innocent items creatively used, such as the de-aging potion, would've slipped through the cracks."
"So they targeted me with the curse," Draco supplied dully, draining his drink. "But why Granger?"
"Maybe they thought that given your history it would be easier to separate you two?" Harry suggested, re-casting the Muffliato just to ensure their privacy was maintained.
"It's possible," Hermione shrugged, refilling Draco's glass. "It also explains the tampered decorations, yesterday's attack in Diagon Alley and the attempt to poison Narcissa's food that time she went out to dinner with my father. If they somehow managed to intercept her mail, they could've discovered her plans."
"What I would like to know is not why someone went to such lengths to hurt Narcissa, but why they would want to hurt her at all," commented Blaise, as he studied the notes. "What does Narcissa have in common with any of the other former Death Eaters that were also attacked? She was never one herself."
Harry thoughtfully studied the notes. "Perhaps," he suggested slowly, shuffling through the pages. "It was because Narcissa testified against so many Death Eaters and got them sentenced to Azkaban."
"Merlin," Ron breathed, slapping his forehead. "I can't believe we didn't notice this before. All the Death Eaters attacked, except for Rookwood, were the ones that somehow managed to avoid a sentence. Rowle, Selwyn, Yaxley, Parkinson's brother…"
"Me," Draco added. "The time my office was blown up."
Silence fell over the table as they all sipped their drinks, going over the facts mentally.
"What about Valmont?" Blaise pointed out, massaging his temples. "He wasn't even a suspected Death Eater, and neither was Vaisey."
"The time your office was blown up, your mother was supposed to come see you instead of me, remember?" Hermione said suddenly. "My arrival was a last minute decision. Frankly, I don't think you were targeted at all. It was after your ring was stolen, so maybe it was an attempt to separate us and to hurt your mother at the same time?"
"I still think there is something to the fact that so many of the attacked Death Eaters escaped a sentence," said Ron sulkily, pouring himself another drink.
Hermione raised her hands for silence, stopping the boys bickering amongst themselves. "I have mentioned this before but I'd like to add a few more points to back up my suspicions this time around. I really strongly think that Vanessa is involved in this business somehow. Firstly, I did the Arithmantic calculations to see if it was theoretically possible that the PCR could've been magically enhanced, and the results were positive."
"Not this again," Ron muttered, shrivelling under the glare Hermione sent his way.
"Secondly," Hermione ploughed on, as if there had been no interruption. "Vanessa told me in passing a few weeks ago that she was dating an Azkaban guard."
This stirred the boys' interest.
"Fishy," agreed Harry. "But not necessarily incriminating. It does make it possible that Vanessa was behind Rookwood's murder, but at the same time it could've been anybody else too. How can we be sure that Vanessa was the only person who had the capacity to breach the Azkaban security? If she had a chance, it's just as likely someone else did too."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Come on, Harry. There are too many coincidences. Vanessa Confounded someone in front of me, quite powerfully too, and Valmont was also hit with a severe Confundus. Plus," she said excitedly, a half-forgotten snippet of conversation returning to her. "I overheard them arguing at the Ministry not too long before it happened."
Draco uncharacteristically gasped. "I can't believe I forgot to mention this sooner. I saw Vanessa and someone, whom I'm guessing is her boyfriend, at the Ministry the night we were all in Confinement. From what I heard of their conversation, they had been going at it in the records room. I was Disillusioned so neither of them knew I was there."
"What?" Blaise's mouth fell open. "How was she inside the records office?! I can't see how she possibly got access. The only people who can get in are high-ranking Ministry officials and–"
"–certain Azkaban guards," Harry finished for him, looking grim. "Seeing how some guards are responsible for keeping prisoner files up to date."
"What would she want in the records office?" Ron asked, frowning.
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth. "The records have detailed files on all the going-ons of the Ministry, including the minutes of the trials held for suspected and confirmed Death Eaters, which were closed to the general public. The files also contained updated addresses and surveillance notes for the ones that didn't get sentenced but had to subject to mandatory monitoring by the Ministry in exchange. In some cases, the files even contain owls that they had sent or received."
"So it does have something to do with un-sentenced Death Eaters!" exclaimed Ron triumphantly. "She could've been sifting through the files to see just how many people escaped sentences."
"I think at this point, the best course of action would be for Hermione and Malfoy to go speak to Narcissa," Harry suggested, as he gulped down his drink. "Maybe she will be able to help us get another lead, but at the very least she should know to be on her guard. The rest of us will go to the Ministry and get clearance from Kingsley to look through Vanessa's personnel file to see if we can find anything, such as a possible motive for all of this."
"Sounds like a plan," said Hermione, finishing her drink. "We'll reconnect at the Manor later tonight to go over any new information."
Draco got to his feet. "Let's go Granger. We have to get to the bottom of who the scum after my mother is."
They said their goodbyes and Disapparated to the Manor. Hermione bit her lip out of nervous habit as she surveyed her husband's tense profile. Wordlessly, she tugged on his arm until he looked at her, and then put her arms around his neck. Standing on tip-toe, she kissed him softly, trying to convey her love and support through the gesture.
For the first time that afternoon, Draco smiled. "Thanks Granger," he said affectionately, holding her close.
"You're not in this alone, don't forget that," whispered Hermione, stroking his silky hair. "None of us will let anything happen to Narcissa."
"I–I love you," Draco mumbled against her ear, suddenly shy about having to admit it again.
Hermione shivered, his words causing a pleasantly fluttering sensation in her stomach. "I love you too," she replied, feeling a thrill go through her. "Let's find Narcissa."
They didn't have to look too hard. Narcissa, Lucius, Herman and Andromeda were in the living-room, playing some sort of card game. Hermione and Draco looked to each other nervously, taken aback by Herman's presence. While Herman had caught on to the fact that someone was after the Malfoys, he was still in the dark with regards to the origins of their marriage.
Herman beamed as soon as he caught sight of Hermione. "Darling," he said, striding across the room to hug her tightly. "I'm so glad to see you're recovered from your accident. I received an owl informing me last night itself, but I was already in bed and I didn't see it till morning."
"No problem Daddy," said Hermione, smiling. "But what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"
"I err– was so worried I came straight here, not realising you'd be fit enough to go to the Ministry," Herman explained sheepishly. "Afternoon, Son, good to see you again."
"The feeling is mutual Herman," Draco shook his father-in-law's hand warmly.
Narcissa joined them. "What are you two doing home from work so early? Come, say hello to Andy. Teddy and Juls are in the playroom with the elves"
"Actually, we're sort of here for work," stated Draco, nodding to his father and aunt in greeting. "We have a suspicion that your owls might be intercepted, Mother, do you think that it's possible? Have you ever noticed your owl return looking injured? Or any of your letters arriving with the seal broken by someone other than the Ministry?"
Narcissa wrung her hands worriedly, trying to recall any evidence of foul play. "No," she said certainly. "Nothing stands out in my mind. Besides, the Ministry goes through my letters first. If they detected a magical signature other than the sender's, they would notify me immediately. Similarly, I've never noticed a magical signature other than the sender's and the designated Ministry official's. I always check."
"Why do you think her letters might be intercepted?" Lucius interjected, placing a protective arm around his wife.
Hermione gently wrestled Narcissa's hands apart and took them in her own. "We think that perhaps the attack yesterday wasn't simply a case of bad timing. If we can prove that your letters are being intercepted, we can confirm our theory that somebody wants you in harm's way and protect you accordingly."
Draco looked to Andromeda expectantly. "How about your letters? Could it be possible that when mother owled you to make the plans for yesterday, someone intercepted the letter before it reached you?"
Andromeda shook her head. "I'm a Black that lost a daughter in the war. Do you really think that the Ministry would forget to put me under surveillance? After the war ended, the Ministry tightened the security on almost anyone that had any ties to Death Eaters. Unfortunately for me, being related to both Cissy and Bellatrix put me on their watch list –no offense, Cissy," she added. "Besides, I always check for magical signatures too, and the security around my house is nearly un-breachable. After all, it was one of the safe houses for the Order. Dumbledore himself secured wards against owl interception well past my house."
"But not mine," blurted Herman unthinkingly, and then blushed scarlet.
Hermione whipped around to study her father. "What do you mean?"
Herman and Andromeda exchanged shifty glances. "Well, Hermione, I didn't mean for it to come out like this, but Andy and I have been spending a spot of time together occasionally…" Herman trailed off, feigning a sudden interest in his kneecaps.
"Are you dating my aunt?!" Draco exclaimed, suppressing his laughter.
"I suppose that might be one way of putting it," Andromeda mumbled, her cheeks flaming. "It's nothing serious," she assured a shell-shocked Hermione hastily.
Herman's head jerked up. "It isn't?"
"What I mean– well–" Andromeda sputtered, avoiding eye contact.
"I think what they are trying to say is that they are both of a certain age, and neither of them have a spouse any longer," interrupted Narcissa kindly. "They are enjoying each other's company," and then, smirking, added, "in every way."
"Cissy!" Andromeda swatted her sister, scandalised, while Lucius shook with laughter.
Herman looked towards his daughter with concern. "Hermione, darling, say something."
"I'm happy for you," Hermione choked out, trying to rid her brain of the image of Herman and Andromeda enjoying an evening together.
Draco squeezed her hand sympathetically, and out of a rare moment of kindness, changed the topic. "So, were you at Herman's when you received mother's owl about the plans to visit Diagon Alley?"
Andromeda nodded, her cheeks still flushed.
Momentarily distracted, Hermione looked to Draco. "That means we were right," she said breathlessly, gripping his hand. "Someone is intercepting letters around my father's house. That could be how they found out where our parents were going to be eating the time their food was poisoned" –she turned to Narcissa eagerly– "did you happen to write to my father about your plans to visit Draco's office the day it got blown up?"
Narcissa shook her head. "I'm fairly certain I didn't."
"Oh," Hermione deflated. "Are you sure?"
"I can look through her letters to double-check," Herman offered. "Though I think Narcissa is right. I don't remember her mentioning any plans to visit Draco at work. After all, why would she? It would hardly be of relevance to me."
"I have still not received a satisfactory answer from either of you with regards to why someone might be after Narcissa," said Lucius imperiously, serious once again. "Everything else is secondary to me."
Hermione looked Lucius in the eye. "We were hoping you both might be able to help us with that. Is there anything you would like to share with us that might shed light on why someone would want to take revenge on Narcissa? Or for that matter, on you?"
A/n: I return with another chapter! No, the previous one was not the end, but the Dramione romance will be put on a slight back burner in the next couple of chapters. There will be next to no Dramione interaction in the next one (for good reason, you will all see why) but I ask you to be patient as there is some more major plot development coming up. The next chapter will focus exclusively on Lucius and Narcissa, and while I know that most of my fans are avid Dramione readers, I have mentioned in my story summary that there will be some focus on side pairings.
This aside, thank you all so much for the fantastic reviews, alerts and favourites. A few of you have pointed out to me that this story is quite long (I'm aware of that, haha) but I'd like to point out that I am writing this to get some experience in character development through a novel-length plot.
Also, exciting news! I have received offers for this story to be translated into French, Spanish and German. For any native readers, I hope that you will check out these versions once the writers get them up. I will be adding links to my profile page.
As always, reviews make me smile and I am eager to hear what you all think of the plot development in this chapter ^.^