Harry, followed by a team of Aurors, burst through the ward doors. Ron hurried to meet him outside Hermione's room.

"Ron, what's happened?" Harry asked. "Is Hermione all right?"

"She's fine," he said hurriedly, "Did you bring Abner?"

Harry gestured behind him, to where Abner stood, still in his shackles, but looking unhurt and very surprised. Two Aurors stood beside him. "What's happened?" Harry asked again. Ron pulled him aside.

"Hermione knows him," he said in a low voice. "She remembers him, she handled the case herself, but she won't tell me anything more until she sees him."

"What?" Harry was visibly stunned.

"She took him from his house and got him the job at the Cauldron personally." Harry didn't react. "Don't you see, she knows him!"

"And why does that mean I needed to bring him here?" Harry asked, annoyed. "This is unsafe, and in any other case this would never, ever fly!"

"No, I know," Ron apologized. "I know, I'm sorry, but he really does need to talk to Hermione, and she needs to see him before she'll tell me what she's thinking. Please, Harry, it's important. He might tell her something that could explain it all—that's what she thinks, I know it!"

"All right," Harry said, nodding. "Okay, Abner," he said, adopting a kinder tone and kneeling before the elf. "You're getting what you asked for. You're about to talk to Mrs. Weasley. But no matter what happens, you're staying right next to me, all right? Your magic won't work on these chains."

Abner's face lit up as he nodded. "Abner may see Missus Wee-slee now?"

"Yes," Harry said, looking up at Ron. "Yes, come on. Thompson, Peakes. Stay out here, and wait for us to call you."

"Yes, sir," said Peakes, stepping back against the wall.

Ron led Abner into the hospital room, where Hermione was sitting up in bed. She whitened a little at the sight of Abner in shackles, but said nothing. Ron lifted him and placed him on an empty chair at the far end of the bed, and then joined Hermione, putting an arm protectively around her shoulders and closing his other hand tight around his wand. Harry stood directly behind the house elf, his own wand out.

"Stay calm," Ron mumbled to Hermione. She nodded and adjusted herself to lean against him, so that she could sit up properly.

"Abner, do you remember me?" she asked gently.

Abner nodded, looking as though he were on the verge of tears. Hermione's incapacitation seemed to have struck him quite hard. "Abner remembers Missus Wee-slee."

Hermione smiled. "When was the last time you saw me, Abner?"

"Abner…Abner is seeing Missus Wee-slee in the Leaky Cauldron," he said, looking down at his long, skinny hands. He sniffled.

"That's right, Abner," Hermione encouraged him. "I brought you to meet Hannah, didn't I?"

Abner shook his head. "Not the last time Abner saw Missus Wee-slee," he mumbled. "Abner is seeing Missus Wee-slee later…Abner hurt Missus Wee-slee. Abner is very sorry."

Hermione said nothing for a moment. Ron touched her shoulder.

"Did you really hurt me, Abner?" she asked. She leaned forward a bit, looking closely at him. "You seemed so happy when I introduced you to Hannah. You said you were excited to be free."

"Abner was," he whispered, as tears splashed down his shirt.

"Can I ask you why you told my friends you wanted to talk to me?" Hermione asked. "They said it seemed very important."

Abner took a shuddering breath. "Abner hurt Missus Wee-slee. For this he is very sorry," he said. "But Abner had a reason. Abner had to do it, Missus Wee-slee!" he clambered forward, nearly onto the bed.

"Hey!" Ron barked, and Hermione glared at him. Abner returned to the chair he had been standing on.

"Abner is in very big trouble if he does not do what he is told," he said.

Hermione stiffened, and she squeezed Ron's hand on her shoulder. "What have you been told, Abner?"

"Abner needs Missus Wee-slee," Abner said slowly. "But…Missus Wee-slee is bad witch!" he shrieked suddenly, loudly. He started towards Hermione, and Harry leapt forward, seizing his tiny arms.

"Wait!" Hermione cried, as Harry started to carry Abner away. "Wait!" With what must have been a horrible effort, Hermione launched herself forward, tears of both suffering and compassion in her eyes.

"Hermione!" Ron cried, catching her before she could fall from the bed.

"Missus Wee-slee took Abner away! Missus Wee-slee is bad witch!" Abner yelled, scrabbling with long, vicious fingers from Harry's arms for Hermione.

Before Hermione could protest again, Ron had seated himself on the bed and pulled her close, and Harry had carried Abner from the room.

"You promised, Hermione!" said Ron angrily, holding her tight. "You're going to kill yourself!"

But Hermione said nothing as she sobbed; they could still hear Abner's angry shrieks as he was carried away.

"Okay, okay…it's all right," Ron said, his tone calming as he held her close, rubbing gentle circles on her back, until finally, Hermione quieted.

"Ron," she said faintly. "Ron, I need to lie down, please…please."

"All right," said Ron. Very gently, he helped Hermione lie back. "Do you need something? A potion? Or—"

"No," Hermione said vehemently, though she had wrapped her arms around herself; she seemed to be in terrible pain. "Ron, what have I done? What have I done to that poor elf?"

"Poor elf?" Ron demanded. "Hermione, he poisoned you! He's a murderer—You told me you thought he was going to tell you something new if I brought him here, and I did, and now look!"

"Mrs. Weasley?" A nurse had come hurrying into the room. She immediately began checking Hermione over.

"He was," Hermione insisted, growing agitated. "He was, he wanted to say something, but he got scared. Ron, help him, please! He's not himself, something is wrong with him!"

"There are a few things wrong with him," Ron snarled.

"Mr. Weasley!" said the nurse. "Leave us alone for a moment. Mrs. Weasley, please try to calm down."

A sudden thought seemed to strike Hermione. "No, wait—oh, Ron! Ron, I know! I know the answer," she said desperately. "Ron, in my desk, the file is in there! Just look at it," she begged. "Everything you need is there!"

"Mr. Weasley," said the nurse sharply, and Ron hurriedly left the room, Hermione's words ringing in his ears.

Ron knocked sharply on the door of the old house, the papers he had found in Hermione's desk clenched in his shaking hand. No one answered. He knocked again, more loudly.

"Aurors, open up!" he barked. He pounded on the door again, and after another moment, it opened.

"Can I help you?" asked Emily. She was not in her nurse's clothing, but her pajamas. "Ms. Crouch was just going to bed."

"I need to speak to her," Ron said angrily. He held up the crumpled papers. "Now."

Emily shook her head. "I'm afraid that's not possible. She's not well tonight."

"Now," Ron repeated, stepping closer. Emily blanched and stepped back, allowing him to enter the house. She showed him up the dark staircase to an enormous bedroom. Wilma Crouch sat in the bed, affronted by the intrusion. She certainly looked as though she was fatally ill; her face was almost skeletal, and she was visibly much worse than when Ron had last seen her.

"Mr. Weasley," she rasped. "What do you want? It is very late."

"What was the name of your house elf?" Ron demanded, as Emily hurried about the room, lighting the lamps with her wand.

"His name?" Ms. Crouch asked, smiling bemusedly. "I don't see why that matters. You are here without cause, Mr. Weasley, and I will have you reported for this."

"I've got my paperwork, don't worry about that," Ron said coldly. "I've also got the entire Auror office waiting for me to call on them."

Ms. Crouch blanched.

"Don't go anywhere, you!" Ron said suddenly, flicking his wand. The door slammed, preventing Emily from leaving; she raised her wand, but Ron Disarmed her and caught it, training his own wand on both of the women. "Abner was your elf, wasn't he?" He held up the papers in his fist.

"Abner," Ms. Crouch said slowly. "That does sound familiar. I do hope he isn't in any trouble. He was such a devoted elf."

Ron narrowed his eyes. "It's been you all along, hasn't it?" he asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Ms. Crouch said, still smiling, though there was something cold about the look in her eyes, now.

"Hermione freed him from you, and you decided to take revenge, to ruin her career any way you could. You planned for Hermione to be poisoned, and made Abner carry it out, so he'd be caught," Ron continued, his wand still raised. "No one would want house elves freed if the first thing they did was turn on the people who were good to them…"

"How very interesting," Ms. Crouch said coolly. She looked at her nurse. "Emily, kindly have Mr. Weasley escorted out."

"No one's going anywhere!" Ron shouted. "Don't move!"

Ms. Crouch glared at him. "Very well, Mr. Weasley. Carry on."

"Abner—Abner did poison Hermione, didn't he?" Ron asked.

"If the creature claims responsibility, I see no reason to doubt it," Ms. Crouch snapped.

"But then we found you, because Hermione had taken the information out of your file," Ron cut her off. "And you got scared. You didn't know how we found you. And then, when I was set free, you told Abner he had to keep trying, didn't you? So he confessed, and begged to see her…but why? Why would he do what you said, if he wanted to get away from you?"

There was a pounding noise coming from downstairs; it appeared that Harry had found his message and followed him here. Emily was looking increasingly panicked.

"There are the Aurors, Ms. Crouch," Ron said. "They know everything I do. You might as well come clean."

"I've nothing to confess, Mr. Weasley," Ms. Crouch said icily. "If my former house elf poisoned your wife, then I am terribly sorry to hear it, but it seems that if he or anyone else is trying to blame it on me, you'll have a very difficult time proving it—"

"Accio!" Ron shouted, and Wilma Crouch's wand flew from beneath her pillow, where she had been in the process of retrieving it. He caught it deftly. "That's attempted assault," he told her. "You may as well come clean now, and maybe you'll get a fairer trial than you deserve…"

"There are more!"

Ron stared at Emily, who had burst into tears.

"There are two more elves!" she cried desperately. "They're Abner's family! She's been keeping them locked up, and she promised that if he killed Hermione Weasley, she would set them free!"

"You stupid girl!" Ms. Crouch shrieked, apoplectic with rage.

And at that precise moment, Harry burst into the room, his wand drawn. "Wilma Crouch, by order of the Ministry of Magic, you are under arrest for conspiracy to murder," he said loudly. Behind him stood Abner the house elf, trembling all over, but starting to smile broadly.

"'Aurors have nothing to report on the status of the elf in question, but sources indicate that Madam Hermione Weasley, currently recovering in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, has expressed no wish to press charges against the elf. Due to a medical condition, Madam Crouch remains under house arrest as she awaits trial for conspiracy to murder. Trials begin as early as next week—'"

"What's this, catching up on your press clippings?" Ron asked, coming in Hermione's hospital room.

Minerva folded up the newspaper, smiling at him. "Good afternoon," she said, as Ron bent and hugged her. He grinned at Hermione, who was sitting up in bed against a stack of pillows. She held out one hand, which Ron took.

"Is Abner settled in?" she asked.

"He's glad to be back at the Cauldron and with his family," Ron said. "We straightened everything out, and Hannah's got a brand-new team of workers."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "Minerva and I have just been talking. She's going to stay with us for a little while, if that's all right with you."

"Oh, Minerva, you don't have to do that," Ron said.

"Nonsense," said Minerva briskly, standing up. "I've been meaning to visit for ages, and when could be better? I can be useful, at the very least." She patted Hermione's hand. "I'll get myself a cup of tea."

Hermione smiled as she left. Ron seated himself, taking her hand.

"See," she said, adjusting herself on the bed and then wincing in pain, "This way you don't have to worry about me while you're working, and poor Hugo and Rosie can have a day or two off for their own lives."

Ron smiled slightly. "How are you feeling?" he asked. "Really?"

Hermione let out a slow breath. "You mean how does it feel to know there's someone out there who wants me dead?" she asked. Ron said nothing. Hermione lifted her chin. "I'm just glad it's not a house elf," she said firmly.

Ron stared at her. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'll be all right," she promised. "I will, Ron, so long as I've got you all—you, Rosie, and Hugo—that makes it much better." She patted his hand, indicating that the subject was closed, for now. "That reminds me, Rosie visited this morning. She brought Scorpius with her."

"We can talk about that later," Ron interrupted hastily. Hermione rolled her eyes, but patted his arm.

"I can't believe I forgot to file that one piece of paperwork," she said, shaking her head. "And it led to all of this."

"Er, speaking of your files, Hermione…you might want to have a word with your staff. I don't know who you had on your team, but they can't organize anything," Ron told her.

Hermione's eyes lit with mischievous laughter. "Really?" she asked in a tone of great interest. "But…I put Carlotta Revere in charge of filing." She sighed. "How very unfortunate that she wasn't up to the task. I'll have to make a note in her employee record. Actually, I wonder if I could fire her for poor secretarial skills." She looked suddenly at Ron, batting her lashes. "Dearest, I need an employee handbook."

Ron laughed.