Emma found herself in Borgin and Burke's for the third time that week and she frowned as she went over the store sales list. It had obviously been tampered with, but she wouldn't be able to take the ledger into evidence, and there had been so many alterations that it would be impossible to say that it was the pieces she was investigating that had been removed. So frustrating.

The bell on the door tinkled, announcing an actual customer and Borgin turned to the door expectantly.

Emma looked up to see Yaxley striding forward, frowning at the sight of her.

"Ah, Mr. Yaxley," Borgin said, a little too quickly. "If you are here about the crystal, Miss Norwick is examining the files already."

"Hardly," Yaxley said, frowning slightly.

He understood Borgin's message. The Ministry was evaluating the ledger and now was not a good time for business. Emma just smiled sweetly at Yaxley in hopes that she seemed naïve enough not to decode this rather-thinly-veiled message.

"You have other cases to discuss?"

"It is an inventory matter."

There was an opening, Emma realized. She smiled sweetly at Borgin this time and said, "If my presence would be distracting, Mr. Borgin, I could always examine this ledger in your office."

Her suggestion produced the desired effect, as neither man was comfortable leaving her alone in Borgin's office. At least they seemed to believe in her sincerity, however.

"I think, Miss Norwick," Yaxley said, "since you were here first, I will take Mr. Borgin to his office to discuss matters with him. The…investigation is a rather…sensitive one."

"Oh, of course," she said, smiling and nodding. Emma leaned over the ledger as the two men went into Borgin's office and she held her breath, wondering if they would have blocked her from listening in, if they would have thought to take such measures.

Fishing Extendable Ears out of her bag was a difficult, complicated task. Emma bit her lip, trying to be graceful about it, not draw any attention to herself. When she finally dug them out and pressed it to her ear, tossing the other end toward the office door, she felt more than a little bit flustered.

"…have it soon," Borgin said when she calmed enough to listen properly.

"Not too soon," Yaxley said. "Not urgently. But I would anticipate in the next few months I will need to have it on hand."

"And you have no idea how long you might need to use it for?"

"As long as is necessary, Borgin."

Emma held her breath. It sounded like an ingredient or potion, and she wondered why Severus wasn't the one dealing with it.

"Well, that does vary quite a lot depending on the recipient. But you've suggested a pliant subject. I would estimate perhaps four months, eight on the long side of things."

"Eight?"

"Well, Mr. Yaxley, these sorts of altering agents do take time to work. No doubt you can make it work faster, and the less of a fight she puts up-"

"Indeed."

Emma continued scanning the ledger lazily. The words on the page hardly mattered. She knew the evidence she needed was long gone. What Yaxley was saying was infinitely more important, although she understood very little. The key thing was that whoever the target was, it wasn't Harry. This altering agent – which could be a great number of things – was intended for someone else, probably some other Order member.

Not that this narrowed the field significantly. After all, there were half a dozen female Order members Emma could think of just off the top of her head, all of them involved in undercover work on a semi-regular basis. She was hoping for more, some clue that would give her some idea of who the intended target was, but the men then began haggling prices and Emma decided that the usefulness of the Ears had run its course. She quickly balled them up again and stuck them in the bottom of her bag, turning back to the ledger, holding her breath. Any moment the two men would come back into the main shop and she didn't want them to even suspect that she'd been listening.

About five minutes later, they emerged.

"That was very helpful," Yaxley said. "I will contact you when I have further details to confirm."

Emma cleared her throat and smiled, knowing that they knew she was still there, that they were speaking in protracted terms for her benefit.

"Mr. Borgin, I have finished with the ledger for today," she said.

"And you did not find what you were looking for."

Not a question. He knew perfectly well that it wasn't there. She wanted to claw his eyes out, but for the benefit of both men she just smiled her sweetest smile and shook her head.

"Well, Miss Norwick, if I come across any relevant information I shall be sure to pass it along."

She hated knowing that the scumbag was lying through his teeth at her, but so it went, unfortunately. She simply nodded, wondering if she should try to leave before Yaxley or at the same time, see if he would give her any more information if she asked the right questions.

Emma decided that until she knew more about his intentions, it was probably safer to have as little contact with the man as possible, so she hurried outside and ducked around the corner, presumably to Disapparate. Instead, she lingered, waiting to see how long Yaxley stayed inside the shop. Had they truly finished their business, or had they needed something in the shop?

Yaxley stepped out of the shop a moment later, looking both ways down the alley, perhaps to see if Emma had Disapparated. She held her breath, hiding in the shadows, praying he didn't see her. And then she saw him turn and walk, not toward Diagon Alley, but deeper down Knockturn Alley.

He had more business to attend to, it seemed.

She wanted to follow him, to learn more, but she didn't have the time. Instead, she went straight back to the Ministry, settling into her office, where she should have immediately amended her report to include the lack of information from Borgin and Burke's. Instead, Emma made certain her door was locked and began sifting through Arthur Weasley's old files, everything he had on known Death Eaters.

Of particular interest was in multiple raids of Malfoy Manor. He kept detailed notes of the interior, an inventory of items – both confiscated and searched – and profiles on the family members. The last search of the home had taken place just after Lucius Malfoy had been taken to Azkaban, just before Arthur had transferred to his new position.

Emma settled down with the file, flipping through for relevant information – or anything that might be relevant.

She hadn't known Draco Malfoy in school, and had never met Lucius Malfoy. She had observed the boy, known who his associates were, known the nature of his interactions with Harry Potter. From what she had observed, he was a self-impressed, spoiled, and not especially talented student. He was a decent flier, had general aptitude for spellwork, but much of that could be due to early privilege and not necessarily and particular skill.

Emma also seemed to recall that he was a bit of a coward. Draco had hidden behind much larger students, and even the sometimes-unfair attention of Professor Snape, in order to get the upper hand. She tried to ignore the obvious feud between the Weasleys and the Malfoys. This was not relevant to her search.

In her mind she could hear the voice of Severus Snape telling her to convince Harry that Draco could not have given Katie the necklace. Harry was certain, in spite of what he had been told by his professors. If Emma had not been told expressly to assure him Draco had not given the necklace, Emma would never have suspected the boy.

But as Minerva had apparently told Harry, Ron, and Hermione, Draco Malfoy had not been in Hogsmeade at the time of the incident, so why did Severus bother having Emma make such assurances?

She frowned, trying to piece together all she knew of Draco Malfoy. Someone like that rarely did his own handiwork. He certainly couldn't have snuck the necklace in and out of the castle, not with the new protections and security checks. And since she knew it was purchased at Borgin and Burkes, meaning he had to have bought it well before the Hogsmeade trip in question, it must have spent time in the castle with him, if he'd done the handoff.

On another note, she could recall vividly the poison that had nearly killed Ron, the poison Hermione had pointed out was almost certainly connected to Katie's accident. Slughorn had certain students he kept as favorites, according to Harry. She knew that Harry and Hermione were among them. It would not hurt to get a list of students in that group.

From what she knew of Slughorn, he wasn't an entirely sensible man, but he wasn't stupid. If a student had given him a beverage that was poisoned, he would have mentioned it in the inquiry. He might have even mentioned it to Harry at the time of the incident. Wherever he got the wine, he clearly did not think of the source as threatening, or even potentially guilty. And even Severus had all but said that Slughorn had not poisoned the wine himself.

Because he was initially intending to give the wine as a gift. Ron's ingestion of it was just one of those things. Slughorn would not poison wine and then forget he'd poisoned it and make to ingest it with students.

The intended recipient had been Dumbledore. So if the actual guilty party in both cases was Draco Malfoy and the intended victim of both haphazard schemes was Albus Dumbledore, then Draco Malfoy was, it followed, trying to kill Albus Dumbledore.

And since he would never take such a drastic, bold, and even stupid move on his own convictions, Emma had to suppose that Draco Malfoy was not acting on his own behalf. It followed, then, that Draco Malfoy – in spite of still being in school – was a Death Eater.

Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. Albus knew this. Severus knew this. And in spite of the fact that she couldn't figure out how he'd done it, Draco was rather carelessly attempting to kill Albus Dumbledore. She felt adrenaline feeding through her, a light sensation of panic.

There were pieces missing, things she couldn't remember, things she couldn't fit together. Harry had said something important at Christmas, but she could no longer recall it. And there was still the question of how Draco had accomplished the attempts, when she knew it was virtually impossible for him to have physically done so.

She traced her fingers over the files, trying to piece together what it was she had missed. There was something obvious, she could feel. Something staring her right in the face, but she couldn't seem to see it. With a sigh, she glanced at the clock. As tempting as it was to continue to stare at old files, it seemed to be getting her no further, and she had a mountain of paperwork to deal with. Emma closed up the file and carefully stowed it away in the cabinet.

However, as soon as work was done, Emma made a quick run to Grimmauld Place to report her run-in with Yaxley to Mad-Eye, who she suspected was actually sleeping at Grimmauld Place to accommodate both his own personal safety standards and his intense obligations for the Order.

"What should I do?" she asked.

"Nothing," he growled. "Nothing until Albus or Severus or I tells you otherwise."

She should have expected as much, she realized, but Emma still felt that pulsing adrenaline that she associated with missions, and she toyed with the idea of sitting down with Severus, confronting him on her issues with the puzzle of Draco Malfoy.

Emma knew she couldn't do that, that either he wouldn't or couldn't answer, and she would walk away with none of her questions any closer to being answered. But she felt a very firmly that she needed to find out her answers, any answers. She sent a quick message that she was going to be late, doing some things for the Order, to Fred. And then she Disapparated to Hogsmeade.

She walked up the high street, frowning to herself. Where exactly had Katie been when she was nearly killed by the necklace? She didn't recall the information being in any of the reports, but it must have been somewhere on Katie's usually Hogsmeade route, as Leanne hadn't thought it important to mention where they were, or where they had been going.

Emma turned her back on the castle in the distance, trying to think of where Katie might have been.

Her feet led her down the familiar path to Honeydukes, and Emma smiled absently to herself as she remembered Fred taking her to Honeydukes seventh year, their fingers intertwined. She could almost smell the sweetshop even as she was still approaching it.

But stepping inside, Emma realized that this could not be related to her search. Nothing seemed off in the shop, nothing out of place. She fought the temptation to buy a chocolate bar and left the shop as quietly as possible.

Where Katie would have gone then was the tricky part. Had she been with Angelina, Alicia, Lee, Emma, and the Twins she would likely have gone to Zonko's, but as Emma recalled, Leanne hated Zonko's. Katie had never been especially fond of it, either.

Gladrag's, perhaps?

Emma stepped into the clothing shop, browsing the racks without really looking at anything, paying closer attention to the shop owner. Nothing seemed strange, nothing out of place, although Emma had not spent much time in the store as a student. She had never been one to spend money on clothes, unlike Katie.

After dodging an eager salesperson, Emma walked out onto the street once more, frowning around at the shops, the post office, all the things students marveled over. Where would Katie have gone next?

Lunch, probably.

Emma paced to the Three Broomsticks, stepping into the warmth of the pub, frowning as she sat down in the corner, next to the table she and her friends used to occupy. Even though the pub was much the same as it had always been, the aura of the place was certainly impacted by the war. Everywhere felt different from when she had been at Hogwarts.

"Emma Norwick," Rosmerta said, smiling at Emma. "What can I get you?"

"Butterbeer, I suppose," Emma said, frowning still. "How have things been here in the village, Madam Rosmerta?"

"As well as can be expected, with the war," Rosmerta said darkly. "I'll be right back with that butterbeer."

Emma nodded, still looking around at the patrons while she waited. People didn't look especially jumpy, but she supposed the more squeamish patrons didn't leave their homes for anything unnecessary. She did think that it would have been busier, given a different set of circumstances. Unlike when Sirius Black first escaped from Azkaban, though, Rosmerta didn't seem too troubled by this.

Perhaps her experience with the first war had prepared her for the drop in business. Things were only bound to get worse, Emma supposed, when the Death Eaters stopped hiding in the shadows. It was already bad, not knowing whom to trust, not knowing who was working for whom.

"There you are," Rosmerta said, setting down the butterbeer. "Let me know if you need anything else."

Emma nodded, deciding it would be perhaps counterproductive to ask Rosmerta questions about the day, especially because Emma knew that Katie hadn't been inside when it happened.

Emma sipped her butterbeer, running through the reports she had read in her mind. Leanne had definitely mentioned that they had gone to the Three Broomsticks, that Katie had been strange since…since…since she had used the toilet. But that wasn't helpful.

Because Draco Malfoy was neither physically present nor female. He wasn't hiding in the women's toilet for the first Hogwarts student to enter. It would make more sense for Draco to be hiding out in the men's toilet in the first place. Less likely to draw attention to himself.

Which mean that whoever had cursed Katie had been able to blend in where they were, which mean female. Draco Malfoy had some female accomplice, someone who had at the very least handed the necklace off to Katie and Imperiused her, which suggested not a passive accomplice, if they were willing to use Unforgivables.

Draco hadn't been especially close to females at school that Emma recalled, excepting that nitwit, Parkinson. Even if the girl was cleverer than she looked and capable of such a thing, Emma didn't think she would do it, even for Draco. The girl was a classic Slytherin in the sense that she kept herself out of obvious trouble and sucked up to the highest bidder. She wouldn't break such heavy laws in school, especially in a place where she might been seen.

Emma finished her butterbeer, trying to think her way through the puzzle, but although she felt closer, she knew there was something she was missing, something obvious she was still overlooking. And she felt as though it was right in front of her face and she still couldn't see it.

She decided it was time to get back to Fred, to have dinner, to maybe get some work done before bed. She paid at the bar and Rosmerta frowned at her slightly.

"Are you alright?" Rosmerta asked. "You seem out of sorts."

"Oh, just looking for something," Emma said sadly. "But I don't think I'm going to find it here."

"Nothing I can help you with?"

"Oh, no," Emma said, frowning. "No, I'm not looking for anything you'd be able to help me find. But thanks for the butterbeer."

Rosmerta said some basic words of parting, but Emma was already not listening, desperate to get home.