After a break for lunch, Draco returned to his office and Hermione went back to meet Harry and Ron. They had managed to get three names from Lucius Malfoy's address book and decided to pay visits to them sooner rather than later. They each took one of the addresses down and planned to see them that afternoon. Harry and Ron would be going alone to their respective addresses but both had agreed that Draco should accompany Hermione, despite her protests. They had argued that firstly, she was not a trained Auror and though neither of them doubted her magical abilities, if something did go wrong, they would be held responsible for going out alone. Secondly, the friends of Lucius Malfoy weren't likely to be thrilled at the idea of speaking to a muggle-born, especially not one who was famous for helping to bring down Voldemort with Harry Potter.
Draco had told Hermione he would be happy to go along with her as it meant getting out of the office and away from the paperwork he had to complete, but had groaned loudly when she had told him they would be visiting Markus Parkinson, Pansy's father. As it turned out, Pansy had tried tirelessly since the war to get in touch with Draco and rekindle the romance she was convinced they had shared during their time at Hogwarts. She had also sent him a particularly high pitched howler after the news of his engagement to Astoria had been published in the Daily Prophet, something which greatly amused Hermione.
"Stop laughing or I'll make you go alone, and Markus Parkinson is a complete bastard, trust me."
Hermione took a deep breath and managed to compose herself. "How come?"
"Typical pureblood, high society type. He thinks he's better than everyone and everything."
"He sounds delightful," Hermione said sarcastically.
"Hmm, depends on your definition of delightful I guess," Draco chuckled.
They set off from his office and down to the apparition point just outside of the Ministry building. Both glanced at the address Hermione had scribbled on a square of parchment before turning on the spot and apparating.
When they arrived, they found themselves face to face with a house that was every bit as large and grand as Malfoy Manor. The layout of the land was fairly similar too, large cast iron gates guarded the building, their only difference to the Malfoy's was that there was an intricate letter 'P' in the centre as opposed to an M. Two huge white stone fountains stood either side of the gravel pathway that led to the black front doors and the grass below was perfectly manicured.
"How do we get to the door?" Hermione asked, sensing the magic that surrounded the gates.
"Like this," Draco said.
He walked the few paces between where Hermione stood and the gates, took out his wand, and tapped them three times. She joined him and could hear a loud ringing sound from the house and soon the doors swung open. A tiny house elf rushed down the long path and greeted them at the gates. She was the smallest elf Hermione had ever seen, and she had seen plenty. A pink knitted tea cosy sat on her head and a white patterned cushion cover with holes in for her arms and legs to stick out of covered her from her neck to her toes.
"Sir, Miss, how can I help?"
"I'm Draco Malfoy, this is Hermione Granger. We're here from the Auror Department at the Ministry for Magic, can we speak to Mr. Parkinson please?"
"Wait here please," the little elf squeaked and raced back up the path to the main house.
"When we get in, let me ask the questions, alright?" Draco said, and Hermione had a feeling he was telling her rather than asking. She nodded.
They stood in silence for the next few moments until the huge gates began to open on their own, allowing Hermione and Draco to make their way up the path to the house where the elf was waiting for them just beyond the open front doors. She led them down a corridor on the right hand side of the entranceway and through a door at the end.
They found themselves in a dining room, a long oak dining table stretched the full length of the room and sat at the top of the table was Pansy Parkinson, as pug faced as she always had been, and a man Hermione presumed to be her father. He had a full head of jet black slicked back hair and a matching handlebar mustache that Hermione thought looked ridiculous. His eyes were dark and beady, and gave Hermione a great mistrust of him.
"Ah, Master Malfoy, it's been a while," the man said.
"Markus." Draco bowed his head.
Your visit is a surprise, as is the company you keep," he said eyeing Hermione. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Miss Granger and I are here to ask you some questions. Might we talk in private?"
"Pansy, darling, please excuse yourself and head into the drawing room. Pour me a firewhisky, I'll join you in there shortly."
Pansy stood from her seat and very slowly crossed the room in what Hermione could only assume an attempt at an alluring walk. She narrowed her eyes at Hermione as she approached the pair still standing in the doorway, and very deliberately pressed herself against Draco whilst she passed him, despite the fact that there was more than enough room for her to pass through them without touching him.
"Drakie…" she murmured in his ear.
"Pansy," he replied curtly.
"Always a pleasure to see you. I was so sorry to hear about Astoria going missing," she purred unconvincingly.
"I'm sure you are."
She stroked his arm and then left the room without another word. Draco rolled his eyes at her and then looked back at her father who gestured for them to join him at the table. Hermione hesitated and Draco placed a hand at the small of her back in a reassuring gesture, and she smiled at him in thanks before sitting down at the table.
"Tell me, Draco," Markus said once Draco had sat down too, "what is this about?"
"My father."
Markus tensed. "What about your father?"
"It seems he is not in Azkaban as he should be. I can't give you all of the details but he wasn't the one who attended the trial and hasn't served any of his sentence. We're not sure where he has been or where he is now."
Markus visibly relaxed and Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "So, you think I might know where he is?"
"You and two others were the only people in his address book who aren't dead or in Azkaban, we're just exploring any possible leads that might help us find him," Draco said calmly and Hermione couldn't help but find herself impressed at his professionalism.
"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you. I haven't seen nor heard from your father in a very long time. All that business with him being a Death Eater, he didn't exactly make very good company, you see. Something you might know about." He eyed Hermione once again with a smug expression and Hermione found it difficult to bite her tongue.
"I'm not sure I understand what you're implying, nor do I want to. Tell me, Markus, have you ever heard of a group called the Knights of Walpurgis?"
"I'm sorry, who?"
"The Knights of Walpurgis," Draco repeated.
"I've never heard of them. What does that have to do with your father?"
"Never mind, that's all I needed to ask. Thank you very much for your time, Markus."
Markus simply nodded as Draco and Hermione stood up and walked toward the door. Draco's hand just touched the door handle when the man at the table spoke again.
"Oh, Draco? I do hope you find Astoria, but if not…there's always my Pansy. She's a better choice by far in my opinion." He chuckled but the laughter did not reach his eyes.
Hermione snorted derisively and Draco quickly ushered her out of the room and dragged her by the elbow back out the way they had come in. It wasn't until they were beyond the gates that he finally spoke again.
"Are you mental woman?"
"What?"
"Don't antagonise Markus, trust me he is not someone you want to get on the wrong side of," he said in a low voice.
"I think I'm already on the wrong side of him apparently, surely you heard the sly remarks about 'the company you're keeping?'" she asked.
"They didn't go amiss," he said dryly.
Hermione checked her watch. "Well, there's no point in going back to the office, Harry and Ron said they weren't going back so we can all just share any new information first thing tomorrow morning. I just hope that they found something a little more helpful than we did. All I've learned is that Markus Parkinson is as horrid as his daughter."
Draco laughed, "I think Pansy might actually be worse. I swear a part of me dies inside whenever she calls me Drakie."
"You know, I think Drakie suits you…" Hermione teased earning her a glare from Draco.
"So, home then?" Hermione asked him, quickly changing the subject from his ridiculous nickname.
"I'm going to the Leaky for dinner, actually. My mother is always out on Tuesday nights with her friends and I hate sitting in that tiny little flat."
"Oh, alright," said Hermione uselessly.
There was a few more seconds of awkward silence, neither knowing what to say to the other.
"You could come if you like?" Draco finally spoke.
"Pardon?" Hermione asked, unsure if she had heard him correctly or not.
"To the Leaky Cauldron. The food isn't brilliant but the drinks are good. It would be nice to have some company, and I don't know about you but I could use a drink after that." He jabbed his thumb in the direction of the Parkinson's house.
"Um, alright then," Hermione replied quietly.
Draco grinned and then turned on the spot and disappeared with a cracking sound, Hermione following suit.
In all of the times she had been in the Leaky Cauldron it had never been quiet, that evening was no different. Though the pub was a little unclean, not particularly well lit and served very questionable soup, Hermione couldn't help but love it. It was always such a fascinating place to go, with magical beings of all varieties always filling the place. That night's guests included two goblins, a hag and what Hermione sincerely hoped was not a vampire, though the glass of deep red liquid on the table in front of him suggested otherwise.
"Not dining alone tonight, I see?" the old landlord, Tom, croaked as he hobbled over to the pair.
"Not tonight, Tom. I'll still have my usual table though," Draco replied.
Tom led them to a booth in the very back corner of the bar, summoned some menus and left with a promise to return and take their orders.
As they ate their dinner of lasagna and salad, Hermione and Draco, for the most part, sat in silence, save for a few passing comments about the food and wine. When Tom came back once more and cleared their plates, Draco finally broke the silence.
"So, Parkinson wasn't any help at all. Do you think the other two found anything of use?" he asked.
"Honestly, I don't think so," Hermione said with a frown. "If anything important had cropped up they would have come to find us straight away. Maybe when we look over each other's notes tomorrow one of us will pick up on something the others have missed."
"I really hope you're right," Draco said, though he looked like he thought she was wrong. "That address book was our last lead, if it gives us nothing then we're at a dead end."
He put down his almost empty wine glass on the heavy wooden table between them and put his head in his hands. Hermione watched him for a moment.
"I'm sure we'll find her, Draco," she said.
He sighed and lifted his head but kept his gaze fixed on the table as he spoke. "I'll never forgive myself if we don't."
"Hey!" Hermione scolded. "This isn't your fault."
"Isn't it? I had all of those letters from those bastards and I did nothing. I knew they would come after me somehow, I could have told Gawain earlier but I chose not to. I did absolutely nothing to stop this from happening. Not to mention-"
Draco stopped talking; a shuffling sound came from the right hand side of the table and Hermione sat back in her seat, realising then that she had been leaning far in towards Draco. Tom was smiling at them and waving a bottle of the same wine they had been drinking, offering them refills. Hermione nodded at him, trying to hide her frustration at his interrupting of Draco. She had a feeling he was about to tell her something important.
Tom filled their glasses, bowed slightly and then left to tend to the table at which the Goblins were still sitting. Hermione turned her attentions back to Draco, who was taking a large swig of his wine.
"I know you regret not doing anything about those letters, but even if you had gone to Gawain, the Auror department would be struggling just as much as we did to find the Knights of Walpurgis. They would have taken Astoria anyway. Aside from that, we're still not even sure this group actually exists, a few months ago neither of us would have even considered it, it's no wonder you didn't take them seriously. This really isn't your fault."
"Trust me, it is. If I hadn't have been with Astoria, none of this would have happened to her."
Hermione smiled kindly at him. "Well that's just ridiculous. You can't help who you fall in love with."
He looked her in the eyes. "I can. And I did."
She tilted her head slightly and looked at him in confusion, prompting him to continue. He drained the rest of the drink in his glass, slowly set it back down in front of him and began to explain.
"Remember I told you about my mother not wanting me to take the Auror job, I said we finally came to a compromise?" he asked, and Hermione nodded. "Well the compromise was, if I took the job, I had to be with Astoria. I've never loved the insufferable woman, and never will."
"What? But…I don't-" Hermione spluttered, "the interviews I read, they said you and her have been together and in love since school."
"Not true. When we announced our engagement Astoria said that her supporting me through my last year at Hogwarts sounded better than me just turning up on her doorstep out of the blue and asking her out." He looked as though he thought the idea was preposterous. "I couldn't love someone like that, she's bigoted and small-minded, everything I used to be. She's obsessed with living her life by the Pureblood rules, she wants us to get married and for her to stay at home planning ridiculous dinner parties like the ones we used to go to when we were kids. She has no ambition, no drive and no passion."
"So why on earth were you engaged to her then?" Hermione couldn't help but ask. Being with someone just because your mother thought it was a good idea was a completely ridiculous plan in Hermione's opinion, but to then ask them to marry you was incomprehensible.
"I asked her after the letters started to arrive, I hoped that it would prove I was loyal to Astoria and everything her family represented-Purebloods and money. I thought if the people sending the notes, whether they were actually the Knights of Walpurgis or just some bigoted Purebloods, heard about it they would leave me alone." He hung his head guiltily.
Hermione stared at him, unsure of what to say next, so instead she drank the contents of her own glass and they sat in silence for a while.
"I don't understand you, Draco," she said finally. He looked up at her questioningly. "Why go to all of that trouble? Why not just move out and do the job you wanted to? It would have been far easier than being with Astoria just because your mother wanted you to."
"She's the only family I have left. Besides, she already lost her husband, I didn't want her to lose me too."
Hermione nodded, fully understanding that sometimes a person did things for their family even if it made that person unhappy. Hadn't she done that for her parents when she modified their memories and sent them off to Australia?
When Tom ventured to their table once more to offer to refill their drinks, Draco politely declined and explained to Hermione that he had to be leaving. She glanced at her watch and was surprised that it was after nine o clock already, agreeing with Draco that it was time to go home. They walked out into the quiet courtyard that lead to Diagon Alley, beyond the wards that protected wizards and witches from apparating directly out of the pub, and were met with an awkward silence.
"Well," Draco finally said as he looked at the cobbles beneath his feet, "I guess I'll see you at the office tomorrow?"
Hermione nodded and took a step back preparing to apparate.
"Granger?" Draco said before she could leave. "It goes without saying but please don't mention any of what I told you to anyone, it doesn't exactly give a good impression of me and I'd rather not have to explain the reasons for my actions. I want to thank you, though, for listening and not judging me-out loud anyway."
"You're welcome," Hermione replied, taken aback by his sincerity.
The shock she felt at his words, however, were nothing compared to what she felt when he stepped forward hesitantly and then briefly hugged her before disapparating without another word, leaving her standing in the courtyard alone and confused.