Hermione Granger felt worn. Used and so tired. Harry had just informed her, via a note - she suspected he got afraid she would snap at him if he'd just explained the situation face to face - that she had to update Malfoy sodding ferret on what it was she was doing, before she would join the others in Azkaban to plan. Like if planning had ever been useful. She was sick and tired of shooting blanks in the dark. Nothing they ever did these days seemed to be working and it was just one horrific event after the other. It was exactly as if the war had never ended.

For a blissful year she had been at peace though. She had been training to become a healer, her friends, well what remained of them, had been all right, she'd been dating Ron, which had proved a bit boring but still, she'd been at peace. And then Hell had broken loose and that awful stone had changed everything back. She'd had to train, to go on missions, to arrest, maim, hurt, restrain evil people, to hide, spy, research her brains out, plan, plan, risk her life and her friends', abandon her dreams, and all for what? Nothing. Evil was still there. It kept trying to catch up with her every second of every day and she was sick of it. Sick of it all and just wanted to crawl in a hole and never get out. Of course she'd never do that. She had to fight back. Life was slowly killing her but she had to fight back. For what was right. But oh! She felt so tired. And then there was the ferret. This was the drop. She had to work with the ferret. No way in hell this would end up well. She was fairly certain the next hour would involve hexing and insults. No, she was better than that, wasn't she? Maybe not any more. She hated the sodding bastard and she wasn't a school girl any more. She wasn't going to cower in a corner and cry because of her old childhood nemesis. She'd give him the files, explain what had to be explained, defend herself if need be, and get out of Harry's office to go plan.

Blaise Zabini had been worried for a minute. Then relief had soothed him as his best friend had offered shelter. Yes, the Manor was shelter. It was the safest place on earth right now. As horrific and unwelcoming as the place was, it was still very well warded by centuries of magical protection Draco had managed to alter to his convenience. Blaise's grand-mother was packing a few things while he waited impatiently in front of the fireplace. He doubted Draco would be too pleased with him if they took the whole day to come by. After fifteen minutes the noise of suitcases being stacked in the corridor finally stopped and he muttered under his breath:

"Not too fucking late." But when his grand-mother didn't join him in the lounge after a few minutes, with a huge pile of suitcases flying around her, he wondered what in hell was keeping her now.

"What in Salazar's name …" He strode angrily down the silent corridor, where none other than seventeen bloody luggages where neatly lined against the wall, and abruptly pushed open the door to his grand-mother's bedroom. Shit.

Hermione jumped as Harry's office door banged against the wall. A tall, dark-skinned young man entered the room. Hermione was on her feet, wand at the ready in less than a second, his shoes were covered in blood.

"Don't move. Name?" He looked at her and felt suddenly oddly familiar, his frightened face still managed to lift a condescending eyebrow at her.

"Seriously Granger? I need Potter or Shakelbolt now. Murder." And his face showed strong grief all of a sudden. Who was he? He recognized her? Maybe her features were not that boring … Wrong train of thoughts. She only knew one dark boy that she wasn't susceptible to recognize.

"Who was killed Zabini?"

"Ah, recovered your brain? My grand-mother." His sarcastic question sounded empty as his nostrils moved and he clearly repressed a tear. What an horrific and strange way to meet Blaise Zabini again.

"Lestrange?" She simply asked and he nodded:

"He wrote, and I quote: Join or suffer consequences, with her blood."

"Sit." She went out of Harry's office for a brief second to tap her golden coin with her wand, came back and sat opposite Zabini, on Harry's chair.

"Malfoy shouldn't be long, I reckon …"

"Fuck! Draco! He's waiting for us! I need to call him." He urged half-standing.

"You can here, why … ?"

"We were packing to stay at the Manor with Narcissa."

"Oh." So they were still friends, as she had been about to say before he had his epiphany. Zabini was in shock though and before he could grab the handful of floo powder he needed, she stood and quickly stepped in.

"I'll call him. Sit back down you're in shock." Zabini frowned, cocked his head to the side and she thought he was going to mock her, burst out laughing at her. She could not be more wrong. He nodded and bowed his head, sat back and eventually desperately took his face in his hands. Hermione was completely bewildered by the events but she acted anyway. She called Malfoy Manor in the earth and pushed her head through the flames.

An impatient, and strangely different from their school days, Draco Malfoy stood close to the fireplace, his pale and pointy face angrily glaring at the earth. Surprised shook his features one second before his well-known composed and slightly superior expression returned.

"Granger. I'll be there shortly, I'm ..."

"Zabini's at the office. Lestrange …" She had been about to rudely announce the murder, but realised simultaneously that first, Malfoy was not alone, and second that she recognized this room. Narcissa Malfoy was standing in front of a very large window, and was looking at her coolly. Then Hermione's eyes caught the cold looking white floor and the gigantic crystal chandelier and she swallowed back bile.

"Come. Now." She said in a whisper and ended the call, not waiting for a response. She repressed her feelings. Now was not the time to remember. What an idiot she was, poking her head in Malfoy Manor. After all these years she just hadn't thought. Zabini had looked awful and she had wanted to do the right thing. She didn't get time to dwell on her boiling emotions though, for Malfoy crashed straight into her a second later. She fell hard on her bum, right next to a startled and still shocked-looking Zabini.

"Fuck Granger!" She yet again didn't get any time to say anything, Malfoy strode past her and grabbed Zabini by the shoulders : "What happened?" He urged.

"Rodolphus killed her. I forgot mate. I forgot him in the wards. He was dead! I didn't think!"

Hermione actually saw concern in Malfoy's eyes and was so overwhelmed at the moment that she stayed on the floor. And then she recovered. As she always did. She shook her head and stood, fetched her coin again and turning her back to the former Slytherins in the room tapped it again quickly before tucking it back into her pocket. Harry appeared in the flames of his now too crowded office, seven seconds after, finally.

"Murder?" He asked lamely, looking at Hermione with questioning eyes.

"Rodolphus Lestrange …" She started and then it was chaos.

"Killed my grand-mother."

"Passed through the wards …"

"Threats Harry, they're trying to regroup."

"Far more serious than what your office thought …"

"I just didn't think …"

"Are you bloody well listening to me Potter?"

"I … he was dead …"

"We need to plan NOW Harry!"

"That son of a bitch killed her!"

Harry Potter was positively and enormously exhausted. So, Rodolphus Lestrange had threatened Blaise Zabini by killing his grand-mother, so he would join the new group he was supposedly creating. What a stupid way to gain his trust. Zabini hadn't put Lestrange in his wards since he had been dead no longer than a day ago.

"STOP!" He yelled. The three guests in his too crowded office thankfully shut their mouths. "Malfoy take Zabini to the Manor, shut all floo network and come back straight here. Hermione leave the files here for him, quick instructions if need be on paper, I'll be back in a minute, we're going to Zabini's." Before anyone could protest he crossed his arms and glared at the two quite upset Slytherins and the stubborn Gryffindor in the room. Was she upset too or was he imagining things? Malfoy must have done something he thought.

The ferret grabbed his friend by the forearm and dragged him to the fire place, Harry was gone a second after, and Hermione was left to quickly write instructions for Malfoy to follow. Harry was not a leader for nothing, Kingsley was right, he was the one for the job. She got reminded of AD reunions in the room of requirement. Harry had always been a leader, even if he hadn't trusted himself to be back then. She scribbled instructions quickly but her files were more than detailed and it would suffice for the time being. Rubbing her face she tried desperately not to think about the little snap back in time she'd felt a moment before. Everything was happening too fast she couldn't dwell on her bad memories now. She scratched unconsciously her left forearm until it hurt. Then she realised what she'd done and wincing a bit she lifted her robes' sleeve. Mudblood.

Draco dropped quickly a dishevelled Blaise to his mother's care. Poor Blaise, thank Salazar they had great elves. An instant later he had shut all possible magical access to the Manor and disapparated straight to the entrance of the ministry. He needed the files the sodding book-worm must have left in Potter's office before going to see the PM. He ran to the lift and was quickly enough back to the auror's floor. Potter's door was still open and he could see him grabbing the know-it-all by the forearm. He was talking quietly to her, she had her head bowed and her hair didn't entirely cover her face. Wait. Since when was she almost blonde? Frowning Draco stepped closer to the auror's door.

"I'll ask Luna to look. Maybe she can find some sort of charm at least …" Scarhead was saying which made the slightly curly book-worm snort.

"It's all right Harry, besides it was dark magic, can't be removed remember? I don't really mind."

"You just practically scratched it out!" She extracted her arm from Potter's grip and Draco saw it. Mudblood. Shit. He hadn't thought about that in years. The word his aunt had carved in the, well, muggleborn's forearm, with that terrific blade of hers. Draco remembered it vividly now. He had stood there while his dear crazy aunt had tortured her. He refrained an impulsive wish to scratch his own scar and swallowed back memories. Then he was himself again.

"Put you shit together and go rejoin the last third of the trio. There's no time to waste." He hissed. Potter startled a bit but Granger just looked at him, her face torn with pure anger now.

"Mind your own fucking business Malfoy." She spat, tugging at her sleeve to cover the ugly word.

"Swearing doesn't suit you Granger." She ignored that and pointed a finger to the desk where now laid only a few yellow files, before fiercely grabbing Potter by the wrist and walking past him to the lift. Potter gave him a strange look Draco didn't understand, but said nothing and kept pace with her.

Urgency. Fucking urgency. This was a living hell.

The silver coin Luna Lovegood owned warmed up in the pocket of her healer's green robes. Auror business she thought cheerfully. A bit of action. Things were too quiet at Saint Mungo's. She took the coin out of her pocket and looked at the code newly printed on it. She had to go. Warning Pavarti Patil that she'd be gone for the day, at Kingsley's demand, she enthusiastically jogged to the apparition point in the entrance hall and disapparated to the ministry.

A dreamily looking Luna jogged in the entrance hall of the ministry, her long blond hair randomly poking out of her high ponytail. Hermione knew she was the best investigating healer, and still felt fondly but strangely irritated whenever she saw the younger witch. Too happy for her own good. How did people manage to still look this happy? Harry was talking, explaining what happened at Zabini's and telling the wide blue-eyed healer that she needed to identify the exact cause of death of the elder Zabini matriarch. Nodding with an out of place smile, the blonde took Harry's arm for side-along apparition, and Hermione followed, taking his other arm. They apparated in front of golden extravagant looking carved gates.

"Wards are down, her death broke them, Neville's here already it's clear." So that was where he'd gone. They entered a ancient stone building, and indeed Neville was already there, his strong but soft features a reassuring sight in such a time. Hermione smiled faintly at her friend.

"Clear." He said. "It's not pretty Luna, over there." He indicated a wide corridor, where suitcases were neatly lined along the walls. Hermione frowned at how many things the Zabini witch had planned on taking with her. She followed Luna, while Harry and Neville stayed at the entrance door, wand at the ready, as always. Hermione took out a muggle note book from her pocket and a pen. Luna smiled brightly at her, slowly opening a door.

The smell was unmistakable, metallic, and it felt horribly familiar to Hermione's tongue. The entire floor of the gigantic bedroom was covered in blood. On the left wall was written in uneven letters "join or suffer consequences." Precise and clear, exactly as Zabini had told her. Under the message was a broken-spine old woman, sitting at an odd angle against the wall. Her chest was wide open in a gaping hole. Luna didn't flinch but her smile was gone when she started muttering charms under her breath. Her wand produced different coloured smoke and few sparks for several minutes.

Hermione scribbled furiously on her note book, every detail could be important and she took note of everything she saw. She was wiping the window sill with a finger, looking for any indication on the number of intruders, when she realised she didn't even gagged at the view any more. She was even so used to the smell that it didn't bother her that much. She turned her head and forced herself to look at the dead old woman. Luna had laid her down on her back on the expensive carpet. She looked less broken this way. Her glittering jewels still sparkled behind the blood and her face was ashen and constricted in an horror filled expression. Her eyes were still wide open and Hermione wondered how in hell Zabini hadn't been a complete wreck. How would she react if her friends were found this way? She'd let darkness take her entire soul this time. She'd just kill them. Without giving them second thoughts as she had done in the past. Those crazy bastard didn't deserve to live. What a stupid and disturbing thought that was. If she, to her own horror, found it in her to kill them, they could be brought back to life. They needed to find the stone. At least now they knew who had it.

"Here." Said Luna, taking Hermione's pen and notebook from her. She wrote a few things and gave it back to her. "The curses used on her. I'll take her now." Hermione nodded. The curses were nothing out of the ordinary, sectusempra made a corner of her mouth twitch but these were just regular dark curses. Nothing helpful.

Narcissa Malfoy handed Blaise a third cup of tea from the tray an elf had brought to the lounge.

"You need to get some rest dear. Draco will send news as soon as he's got some."

"I know. I hoped it would be today."

"It's never today dear. Your room is ready. Go get some sleep." Blaise Zabini listened to the elder Malfoy. She was the picture of grace and self-composure. Despite her husband and sister being locked in Azkaban and her son working his health out. Blaise only wanted to burst in whatever hiding place the Lestrange were using and slaughter every living soul that would be there. But he lacked the strength and he had no idea where they were. How in hell was he supposed to join if he didn't even know how to communicate with them? There had to be a reason for they didn't try to talk to him. Maybe they didn't want him to join, maybe this was just some sort of twisted way to warn the ministry that they were on their way. Or maybe they thought he knew how to join. But how? Where could the bastards be?

"Blaise dear?" Blaise stopped on his way to the guests rooms he knew so well to face Narcissa. She caught up with him and was carrying a letter.

"You got an owl. If the stamp is any indication I hope it won't upset you as much as it does Draco."

"What?" She took a few more steps and handed him a cream coloured envelope on which sat the Parkinson's stamp. "What does she want now?"

"I suppose you'll find out in a minute. Sleep tight dear." And she headed to the next corridor, to her own bedroom Blaise supposed. What did that pug-faced bint want? Entering his borrowed room he opened the letter. Him. She wanted him. Self-righteous bitch. He had no time for her stupid presumptuous demands. See her? Did she live in another world? Didn't she read the news? Didn't that stupid trash bint know there were more important matters to discuss than the continuity of her pure-blooded line? Anger spread through his veins, and Blaise found himself in a fury. He had just lost the woman that raised him to pure-blooded bastards that thought they were somehow better than the rest of the world. How could this horrific bitch still think this way? He threw the letter in the fireplace and watched it burn to ashes. Those nutjobs Lestrange were trash and didn't deserve to live. He needed to find them. He will work his brains out to find them.

Hermione sat in the small interrogation room they now occupied in Azkaban to work. They had spent the afternoon, after their trip to Zabini's place, reinforcing the wards of the magical jail. It had been an excruciating pain in the arse of a job. Especially since her patronus appeared to no longer be as strong as a few years ago. She had had trouble reaching for a true happy memory. The small otter was greatly less bright than Harry's stag. It happily made circles around her though. Lavender's wolf stayed at her side. Her patronus had changed since Greyback's attack. She was sitting at the table next to Dean, talking, writing down few things, reading through Hermione's notes.

"Hermione? Did you ask Zabini about the threat?"She asked, lifting her scarred face from the parchments.

"He was in shock, she was in such a state I'm surprised he didn't …" Hermione lost track of her answer. Why kill her? Thinking about the words written on his grand-mother's bedroom wall Join or suffer consequences, she wondered. Join. How? Her mind started racing. Here, a lead right under her nose.

"Do you think this could only be some sort of twisted warning?" She asked to no one in particular and added to herself. "Was Blaise the only heir?"

Harry seemed to catch exactly what she was thinking.

"Yes he was! And now he's the sole owner of the Zabini estate …"

"Shit they need the money to build an army Harry, and since the Malfoys won't participate any more …"

"Zabini was the perfect victim! They really want him to join …"

"But how? They didn't leave any way to communicate."

"Maybe Zabini knows things he didn't tell." Lavender finished for them.

"Right." Said Hermione. "He might not even know he does though, they didn't fight the war you know, I'm positive they never were on Voldemort's side."

"They weren't. We need to talk to him, he's at Malfoy Manor. No way to go there without Malfoy now." Said Harry, out of his thoughts for a second. Hermione sighed. She was the one always doing communication. Kingsley was back at the ministry for the night, he could ask Malfoy for her.

"I'll send a note to Kingsley."

"He's busy Mione and we're useless here, you should go. Lavender you go with her. Dean let's relay Ron and Neville." All stood up and Hermione reluctantly accepted the orders.

Walking past the dementors was awful. She felt her stomach twist under the suddenly heavy air but she kept walking, her otter fading slightly. Lavender turned her forever marked face towards her. Her bright blue eyes were severe and almost always aggressive now.

"Are you all right Hermione?" She asked nonetheless kindly.

"It's been a long day. I'll be fine. I'm always fine." Hermione shrugged.

"Know what you mean." Lavender muttered before waving at her wolf which started running determinedly around the both of them. Hermione could breathe a bit easier now.

"Thanks." Lavender just nodded. They arrived to the big gates that enclosed the prison but didn't cross them. Hermione retrieved an old sock from her pocket and murmured:

"Portus." They both touched it and she felt the familiar hook grip her bellybutton. They landed just before the entrance hall of the ministry and after looking at each other briefly, they walked quickly together to the lift.

Malfoy had settled in Harry's office and was surrounded by papers and flying notes. Two magical quills were writing for him on two big scrolls of parchment and he was muttering under his breath, his wand pointed at the scrolls when they entered the office.

He lifted an eyebrow but didn't acknowledge them more. He stopped his murmur only when Lavender cleared her throat loudly. His pointy and too pale face turned to look at them and Hermione could see exhaustion written all over his supposedly aristocratic features. He was no better than the rest of them she thought.

"Malfoy we need to see Zabini." She simply stated. He answered with a strained voice.

"Why?"

"Questioning."

"He lost his grand-mother this morning and it's nearly eleven, let him rest. Besides, I have work to do so this will wait until morning."

"Don't make things more difficult than they already are Malfoy. Bring him here." She insisted, who was he to decide anyway?

"No. I'm already doing your bloody job Granger, I won't play lackey, especially to you." His answer was just outrageous.

"And what is that supposed to mean? You know fairly well that I didn't ask for you to do this."

"Right. But I won't bring Blaise here."

"Why not?"

"Because my mother might be a target and I won't leave her alone Granger." He had a point. The ferret had a point. She talked without thinking. It was the right thing to do.

"Take us there then." He lifted both eyebrows at her.

"You? At the Manor?"

"Shut it and take us there." He seemed to think for a moment before his voice expressed such venom that she felt anger run through her instantly.

"As you wish." He hissed. He then stood and strode past both women to the lift.

"Sodding bastard." Muttered Lavender. Hermione couldn't agree more. But she didn't answer, she was about to set foot at Malfoy Manor. Last time she had been there … Later. She could bury herself in self-pity, later. Lavender abruptly took her right hand and Hermione realised she'd been scratching her scar again. What was wrong with her?

The two Gryffindor bints were whispering at his back. He was right there! Walking two steps ahead of them for Salazar's sake! Draco stopped abruptly at the apparition point in the hall, hoping to startle them. It didn't work, they just stopped too and shut up. Which was a good thing. He turned around and looked at them angrily.

"Finished gossiping?" Granger was the quickest to understand and she took a step closer to him, disgust written all over her plain face. He was the one supposed to be disgusted by her, not the other way around.

"I'm not happy about this either Granger, but or you take my arm, or you try and break through the Manor's wards." She took his arm rolling her eyes and Brown silently went to his other side. An acrid smell made its way up to his nose. He knew that smell from when he had visited his father, that one and only time, right after the war. He still remembered it. Dementors gave people that smell, the smell of despair. He would have thought Brown would be the one smelling, since she was disfigured and all, but it actually came from Granger. The oh so wonderfully brave know-it-all had been more affected by dementors than the torn apart Brown? Draco tightened his grip on his wand and spun around thinking about the Manor. Bringing Granger there wouldn't help her despair. He landed in the drawing room and shoved the thought aside, as Granger and Brown. They both stumbled on their feet and Brown seemed to loose her temper a moment.

"Warning Malfoy." She growled and Draco was reminded very clearly that she was part wolf now.

"Lavender." Calmly warned Granger and Brown seemed to regain composure. Shit she was frightening.

Hermione looked at Lavender in the eyes, trying to give her a quiet warning to remain calm. It worked and she then turned to look at Malfoy expectantly. He was standing before the gigantic marbled fireplace of the large room and she had to inhale deeply.

Draco Malfoy stood there, all frightened, his pale face portrayed a look of horror as he avoided to look directly at her. She was panting and in pain. So much pain. Her toes hurt, her hair, and oh god her head! She tried to focus on a faint crack in the wall above Draco's head but her eyes wouldn't stay open.

"Hermione?!" She snapped back to reality. A grown-up Malfoy was still facing her, frozen, his grey eyes fixed on something to her left. Lavender was griping her shoulder so hard it hurt. Hermione lowered her gaze to where Malfoy was looking and froze. She'd been doing it again. This was not good. She was loosing it.

"Shit." She swore. She seemed to be doing that a lot too lately.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Lavender asked, not knowing what was happening to her friend. Malfoy knew though, and he kept his gaze on her covered scar, standing straight, apparently unable to move. Hermione shoved Lavender's hand off of her shoulder and didn't answer. Instead she talked to Malfoy.

"Where is Zabini?" She asked with a cracked voice. Malfoy seemed to return to the present too. His eyes were veiled when he answered her.

"Guest room. Follow me."