Two chapters in two days! Well I didn't expect that. Remember when I said things were getting rocky? Hmmm, yes-more of that ahead here, I'm afraid! And probably not what you think either! I'm so mean to you...read and let me know what you think! And to the anonymous reviewer: the "yay" was a bit of both, actually-as I suspect most family visits are! Thank you all for reading, and for reviewing!
"Damn it!" Thorfinn Rowle kicked the body of the dead Muggle once again for good measure.
"For Circe's sake, calm down," Antonin Dolohov said coldly, levitating the corpse away from the irate wizard.
"Weaklings! Can't even tolerate a little Cruciatus!" Thorfinn raged. The big, blonde wizard was temperamental, which was why Antonin had been reluctant to break him out of Azkaban. His violent reaction to the Muggles' inability to duplicate Hermione Granger's work was proof that he needed to do something other than harangue their researchers, assuming Cornelia could retrieve more. He would not send Thorfinn on such a task again.
"I will get Mullan working on it. He's still under my Imperius, and the idiot Aurors they've planted haven't known him long enough to recognize the difference," Antonin said.
"I still do not understand why we cannot do the research at a faster pace!"
Antonin explained it again. "The expression of these genes, as the Muggles call them, relies on normal cellular division. When we interfere with that, we disrupt the normal processes which in turn disrupts the results. There is no magical means of speeding up the work."
"Then we should at least be able to improve the pace of the analysis methods," Thorfinn snarled, and Antonin felt it best to offer him a distraction.
"I think you should focus on getting Granger. She is the only witch adequately trained in the work, and bright enough to draw the appropriate conclusions. These Muggles are working blind, because they do not understand magic, and their feeble brains do not wish to understand it. Between that task and the need to obtain the rest of the data we need from the Muggles, I should think you have enough to do without harassing more Muggles to death here. In fact, I'm sure you can plan an adequate strategy for breaking into the FSS headquarters to retrieve that data within the week."
Thorfinn smiled cruelly at this. "Yes, you are right, Antonin. And it sounds like a lovely excursion for my fiancée. I'll have it by Friday."
Dolohov nodded. "Excellent."
After the blonde wizard left the lab, Antonin turned his wand to the other student, who was petrified by fear and not a curse after Thorfinn's raging. "Now, you! What was the name of that American researcher?"
"Excuse me, Dr. Hayes?" Hermione's knock on the half open office door was firm but polite, and she stuck her head around to see the professor seated at her desk, working at her computer. "Do you have a minute?"
"Of course. Come in." The slight blond woman leaned back in her chair, and Hermione noticed that she was pregnant as well. Making a split second decision, she dismissed the glamour that was hiding her own pregnancy. Common ground might help things go faster, and she needed to be out of here before the Aurors assigned to Dr. Hayes realized she was here. She probably assumed she was a student from her casual attire.
Casting a Muffliato charm on the office, she entered and nearly closed it, then turned and pulled the visitor's chair to nearly the side of the desk, so she would have a view of the door. Casting an apologetic glance at Dr. Hayes, she said, "Sorry. I don't like not being able to see the door."
"It's fine," Dr. Hayes said. "Now, I've seen you before, but I can't quite place where…"
"I met you at several research conferences. I work for a private think tank in Great Britain, and I had discussed some of my genetics work with you," Hermione said. "Sophia Valmont."
Dr. Hayes' blue eyes were bright with curiosity. "I remember you now. You were working on something to do with the genetic regulation of an entire gene family, am I right? Something that involved chromatin remodeling, if I remember correctly."
Hermione smiled. "Yes, that is it. I had hoped to talk to you at the conference, but then there was that horrific attack and it wasn't possible."
Dr. Hayes frowned. "Yes, I heard about that. I wasn't able to attend—my partner would not permit it. We've been trying so long for this baby, you see, and I'm afraid she's a touch overprotective about traveling under the circumstances."
The woman's hand inadvertently caressed her belly, and she looked at Hermione's own bump. "I imagine you know what I mean."
"Yes, I do. But Dr. Hayes—"
"Call me Frederica, please, and I will call you Sophia. Do you have a business card?"
"Of course." Hermione slid the card across the desk, and a slight furrow appeared on Frederica's brow. "Praecantatio, Inc. That's odd. I had another member of your company visit me last week…I can't remember his name, though. Where did I put his card?"
Hermione's heart rate sped up. "What did he look like?"
Frederica looked up from her rummaging in her desk. "Oh, tall, long blonde hair, what was his name…"
"Hamilton?" Hermione asked, and the professor smiled.
"Yes, that was him. Chemometrics, wasn't it?"
Hermione took a deep breath and shoved aside the questions that popped up at knowing Lucius had been here without her. "Yes. He was probably asking about my work with chromatin remodeling being induced by the recessive expression of a gene that regulates a whole gene family. I've shown that this particular recessive gene acts as a regulator—it causes a remodeling of the chromatin that renders the genes silent."
"Yes, I remember now. He was modeling the behavior with the Gillespie algorithm—quite clever, to apply it across a whole gene family like that! But if I understand you correctly, this is something that happens during in utero development. That would render the Gillespie algorithm useless, because it is only used for…"
Hermione interrupted her, "For instantaneous reactions. Yes, we know. However, it is applicable in this case, with a few modifications." Hermione did not bother to mention that the modifications were Arithmantic in nature, and ignored the professor's expression of curiosity.
"But that is fantastic! You are going to publish that, aren't you? Because that would rocket your think tank to the forefront of research, and secure you innumerable grants…"
Hermione's head was spinning. She knew Lucius was quite knowledgeable about genetics, but he was demonstrating more depth and facility than an untrained, even if intelligent, wizard should possess. Putting that aside, Hermione cut Frederica off again. "Yes, I'm sure we will eventually. But the reason I needed to speak with you was to do with your experiments reversing epigenetic regulation. I understand you have had some recent success with your rats and the expression of pancreatic islet cells."
Frederica frowned. "That has not been published yet, how do you know about that?"
Hermione improvised. There was no need for the professor to know she had been poking around in her lab in the wee hours of the morning, wards notwithstanding. The computers had been a bit trickier, but not insurmountable. "Your students were a bit too gregarious, perhaps, after hours at the conference."
This was plausible enough that the professor relaxed again, and she began to speak. "Yes, we have found a couple of likely culprits for mRNA and protein expression products that are likely to have an impact on the remodeling. However, the results are inconclusive and highly preliminary. It will be years until we can narrow in on the right signals, and even then—"
"Oh, sorry Frederica, I didn't know you had a guest," a thin young man said from the door. Hermione did not miss the way his hand wandered toward his forearm, a gesture he disguised as an idle scratch but which she knew was a check of wand placement. The American Aurors were well placed in her lab, then.
"That's all right, Arnold. Dr. Valmont was just here for a business consultation."
The wizard's mien was suspicious. "How did you get past building security? They're supposed to buzz the lab and the office if we have guests."
Frederica waved her hand impatiently. "Arnold, that is more of a pain in the ass than any other new 'security regulations' they've imposed recently."
"As it happens, I did a post-doc with Sameer Chandraprekhar, and I was visiting him. The chance to chat with Dr. Hayes was too good to pass up." Hermione's backstory was well researched, but she could tell the wizard didn't like her.
"Oh, did you? Tell me, was he always so obsessed with Thai food, or is that a recent acquisition after his time in Singapore?" Frederica was obviously relaxed, and the wizard had no choice but to retreat as she ignored him.
"No, he's always been one for very spicy dishes. I'm sure the Thai curries suit his taste!" Hermione replied, aware that her time was running short. That wizard would seek reinforcements, and she still needed one more piece of information from Dr. Hayes. "Frederica, I'm sure your work is advanced enough to have isolated at least one signaling pathway. I really need to know what that is in order to make forward progress on my own work. I will sign a NDA, whatever is necessary to get you to share that—"
Hermione was interrupted by a loud bang and crash, a thunderous roar reaching their ears seconds before a shockwave knocked them both from their chairs.
"Was that a bomb?" Frederica asked in shock, coughing, as Hermione crawled to the door and peeked through the opening, past the scraps of drywall and twisted metal studs. Wizards in black robes were dueling in the hall with the American Aurors, a team of which was trying to make its way to Frederica's office door.
"Get back!" Hermione cried, whipping her own wand from her hair and thrusting the professor to the ground as a jet of red light flew past, missing her cheek by inches. Hermione threw her own hex back, catching a brief glimpse of Arnold's angry face as he tried to work over to them through the rubble of the hall. She saw one of the attacking wizards cut down one of the Americans ruthlessly, and as he turned he whipped the hood of his cloak off, meeting her eyes and instantly throwing a powerful Reducto at the office door.
"Protego!" Hermione cried, her shield shuddering as the door was shredded around herself and the professor by Antonin Dolohov's curse.
"What are you?" Frederica asked, trying to get beneath the desk. Dolohov was now striding down the hall, casting hex after hex which Hermione parried. She threw the jinx Lucius had just taught her, which made the wizard angry. He whipped his wand and the spell flew past her, hitting Frederica squarely.
"No!" Hermione cried, whipping her head around toward Dolohov as he carelessly flicked a disemboweling curse at Arnold and turned his wand back toward the pair of them.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said to the professor, whose face was contorting with pain. Hermione pulled her port key and activated it, casting a strong Lumos to Dolohov's angry roar before they both vanished from the office with a dizzying twist.
"TWIGS!" Hermione cried as they appeared in the foyer of the Manor. The house elf popped into view, taking in the Muggle writhing in pain and the new mistress' wand waving.
"I will get Master Draco," Twigs said and winked out, coming back instantly with Draco. He took it in with one glance, his own wand whipping out as he cast diagnostic spells and a broad healing spell on the woman.
"Who the hell is she?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "Muggle! Work?"
Hermione nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I had to consult with her…she's pregnant…"
Astoria popped in and paled at the sight in front of her. Blood was beginning to ooze from the woman's skin, and Draco cursed. "Fuck. I have to get her to Mungo's, now! This needs more advanced curse breaking, and I can just barely keep her stabilized! Tori, get her to the Floo!"
Astoria levitated Dr. Hayes and Hermione walked with her and Draco to the Floo as Draco alternated between instructions and questions.
"Keep doing that healing charm, Granger! Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to be in your room! Who the hell is she? Stop, I need to beat this back—" Draco paused, his wand waving messily as he pushed back the dark tendrils of magic that were trying to spread from Dr. Hayes' abdomen toward her heart. "Shit, let's go!"
Tori threw a large handful of Floo powder into the enormous fireplace and cried, "St. Mungo's emergency ward!" and the four of them disappeared into the green flames.
Their arrival caused an explosion of action, Healers running forward and responding to Draco's barked instructions, a team of six taking over the levitation of Dr. Hayes' body and moving off into a room. Hermione was in shock, dimly hearing Astoria speaking to someone, then the pops of apparition.
"Hey, hey now Hermione. It's okay." Hermione looked up, recognizing Ron's warm voice.
"It's all my fault," Hermione sobbed, letting her friend hold her. Ron's partner, Severt, backed off respectfully, and after a good few minutes of a crying jag Hermione began to feel more coherent.
"Ok, we can chat here," Ron said, leading Hermione into a small office as Severt warded the door, his face imperturbable. "Tell me what happened, 'Mione. You were at home at the Manor the last we knew."
"I had to speak to a Muggle researcher, and with Lucius off on some sort of business, plus the crazy stuff in the paper, I decided to go myself to speak to her," Hermione said, looking Ron square in the eye. "I know I was supposed to go through official channels, but all that has done lately was to get more people suspended or hurt."
"So this Muggle, she must be pretty important in Muggle research circles then?" Ron prodded, and Hermione nodded.
"She's one of the top experts on epigenetic regulation. I'm close to understanding how the so-called Squib gene works, and she is the only person left who could possibly help me figure it out."
"Right, which is why we have the American Aurors crawling up our asses now," Ron said with a glance to his partner. "Harry has the unmitigated joy to deal with that, right, but I have to give them a reason why you didn't take an escort with you. Why, Hermione?"
"Ron, we both know there are leaks springing up all over the Ministry. How did Antonin Dolohov know who to go after? It wasn't for me. He was surprised to see me there—I could see it in his eyes. I was like an added bonus," she said bitterly. "Tell me how the American Aurors fared, Ron. I want to know the truth."
"There is no word on their condition yet," Severt spoke quietly, almost as if his voice was rusty from disuse, but it caused Hermione to be quiet in turn, which Ron was grateful for.
"Okay, Hermione, I understand that, but with you being on suspension I doubt Kingsley will be happy about you portkeying to America to chat with her. And the fact that she is now hurt and we are breaking all sorts of Statute of Secrecy rules doesn't help. I'm going to talk with Harry and see if we can't run some interference with Kingsley. I know you can't let things go, and most of us know the Prophet printed a load of rubbish—but you haven't made things any easier, you know."
"Don't lecture me, Ronald Weasley," Hermione retorted fiercely. "You have no idea how difficult Kingsley has made things for me. I have a job to do and a problem to fix, and not you, nor Kingsley, nor any other bloody dark wizard is going to stop me!" Hermione poked her finger into Ron's chest with each point, and Ron rubbed the spot after she was finished.
"Merlin, Hermione, that's enough. I get your point. I know you're mad and it's damned annoying to be suspended for a mistake you didn't make, but that doesn't give you a reason to be mad at me." Ron was so damn reasonable that Hermione had to admit he was right.
"You're right, I'm sorry," Hermione said, then her face crumpled with tears again. "It's just horrible. She was pregnant, just like me…I don't know if they will be able to save the baby…"
"Oi, it will be all right, Hermione," Ron said, sitting down beside the distraught witch and looking to Severt for help.
"Where is her bloody bastard husband anyway?" Severt muttered, taking in Ron's shrug with a roll of his eyes. "Fine. I'll get Astoria Malfoy. You've got to deal with Underwood and Potter."
It was late when Astoria managed to drag Hermione home to the Manor. Draco had promised her that he would be home immediately following, and Astoria was relieved when Draco apparated directly into the so-called Grand Salon. Astoria had kept Hermione out of Lucius' study and the library, predicting that those surroundings would make her think far too much about Lucius and what he could possibly be doing.
"I need to go up to Scorpius," Astoria said, giving Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek. "I know he's probably had a grand time with Firkin, but I need to see him before he goes to bed."
She left the room quietly as Smidgen prepared a cup of chamomile tea just the way Hermione liked it, and hovered anxiously until Hermione took a sip purely to please the house elf.
"There, mistress, good as new. Eat, eat!"
Hermione dutifully picked up a digestive biscuit, which was sufficient for the elf to wink away. She immediately put down the cup and biscuit and fixed Draco with a stare. He had been studying her, his arms crossed across his chest.
"You're tired," Hermione observed, and in a rare moment of complete candor Draco agreed with her.
"You're right, I am. But I can't get to bed until we've talked about a few things, Granger."
"Are you always going to call me Granger?" Hermione asked, successfully injecting a little levity into what was going to be a depressing conversation.
"Probably, yes," Draco said, a wry expression on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "I'm just going to cut to the chase here. I'm not my father, and Godric only knows how many blood vessels he will burst when he finds out about this, but I need a wizard's oath from you that you won't leave the Manor like that again, Hermione. Believe me, I understand better than anyone how much it grates to have the Ministry wheels grinding slowly through all of your business and accusing you of a host of things you haven't done, but you have to sit on your hands and wait it out."
Hermione felt the weight behind his grey gaze, and it defused her instinctive bristling. She looked away from him, her jaw set. "I think we both know I can't do that."
Draco dropped into the chair opposite her and folded his hands between his spread knees. "Say what you will about our paternalistic, misogynistic society, Granger, but the fact remains that you are a part of it, and as a member of this family now, a very heavily scrutinized part. Add in what you brought in fame and glory from your activities against Lord Voldemort, and you have the makings of either an epic or a tsunami of disaster. At this point, I'm not quite sure which it is! I'm just trying to get you to acknowledge that, just a little. It's very Gryffindor to want to rush in and fix it all, but maybe for once you need to let other people take the lead a bit and think about your own connections for a change."
"I know I can't fix it all, Draco," Hermione said, her eyes fixed on the tea cup she was again nervously fiddling with until she swiveled her head to meet and hold his gaze. "But I should at least be allowed to fix something."
"And what about that child in your womb? Does it not count? What about my father? Your parents are gone, Granger, and they were never a part of this world. You worked very hard to keep them safe from it, but they never understood it. Now, I ask you, what are you willing to sacrifice to protect it? Your identity as a Know It All? Your status as the brain who just won't quit? When will it be enough?"
"That was a low blow," Hermione said quietly, ignoring the way her eyes watered and how Draco pointedly watched the very visible kicks from the baby.
"Was it? Or are you ready to admit you cannot be all things to all people?" Draco stood. "The oath, Granger. If you were really a Malfoy, you'd do this. Because even through hell, at least Malfoys know how to stick together first and foremost."
Hermione stood up and wrapped one arm around her belly. "I don't have to choose between keeping my family safe and doing my job. Besides, if I stop doing it, who will?"
"Hasn't it occurred to you that that shouldn't matter as much as this?" Draco asked, touching her belly briefly, his signet ring glinting in the firelight before he withdrew his hand and turned his head away. "Never mind. I will summon Father home. I don't know why I thought I could make you understand."
"I DO understand! I understand that I can't be all things to all people! But people are dying, Draco! Tell me that that Muggle, Frederica Hayes, didn't lose her baby today because of ME, because of MY WORK. Tell me that it didn't happen!" She was shouting now, but it felt good, a release of some frustration and anger and sadness that had been roiling in her gut like some sick ball all day.
Draco's jaw clenched and he looked really angry, like he had back in school. "Fuck you, Granger. Hasn't it occurred to you that if not for YOU, that damn Muggle wouldn't even be alive? She would have been killed or kidnapped by Dolohov, in which case she would have been tortured to insanity and lost her damn baby anyway! YOU SAVED HER LIFE, Hermione! Get over your pity party and put on your big girl pants, and start acting like a damn adult, not some spoiled teenager! I don't know what the hell is going on between you and my father, but I do know that he couldn't stand to lose another wife he cares about! So get out your wand and take the goddamn oath! Now!"
Hermione just crumpled in front of him, loud, wrenching sobs being pulled from her. Draco crouched down and patted her awkwardly. "I'll summon him. I don't know what he's doing, but you need him."
"No," Hermione gasped out. "No. I won't be that weak. I trust him. I trust him, Draco!" She looked up at her childhood nemesis, her eyes widening. "When did that happen?" Large tears overran the banks of her eyelashes again, and she dropped her head, shaking it.
"Jesus, Granger, you're pathetic. You're not the first woman to fall in love with her husband." Draco had enough trouble dealing with Astoria when she was hormonal—he did not need to deal with a hormonal Granger! He thought yet again that the dungeon torture chambers would be too good for his father when that bastard got back home.
"Shut your mouth, you ferret," Hermione retorted. "Just because I trust Lucius a scant margin more than you does not mean I'm in love with him!"
"Uh-huh. Are you going to take the oath, or am I calling in Potter? Because as much joy as it gives me to uproot my family from their home, deal with death threats, again, in my workplace, and agree to take on the nominal headship of the family while Daddy Dearest is off playing flunky for the Ministry, I'm done trying to babysit the biggest pain in the arse to come out of Hogwarts in the past fifty years!"
"Fine." Hermione drew out her wand and grabbed Draco's hand, then said, "I swear not to leave this house for Ministry business reasons as long as Lucius is away. Satisfied?"
Draco watched the thin blue line snake around his wrist. "Yes." As soon as the line disappeared into their wrists, he dropped her hand and cast a quick Tempus on the wall. "For all our sakes, I hope the fuck my father returns soon. I don't know how he deals with you."
Draco cast a quick diagnostic over her, much to Hermione's annoyance. "Well, at least the baby is healthy. Eat some damn dinner, Granger. I don't need to deal with you at work and at home."
"Same to you, you annoying prat!" Hermione shouted after him. "Bastards, the lot of them," she mumbled under her breath, then started crying again as he swept out of the room without another word. She really missed Lucius.
