Yes, much delayed, I'm afraid. As we hurdle towards the end I think posting is as fast as I can do it at the moment. I apologize for the sudden decrease in updates but it can't be helped. Thanks for the alerts, faves and the reviews, as always. I hope you enjoy this update. Leo meets his father!
LCailan
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Hermione wasn't sure how many hours had passed since the incident in Neville's office. She was unaware of the passing of time, the whispered voices, and the visitors that may or may not have come…
She was only aware that she was sitting at her husband's bedside at St. Mungo's Hospital, holding his hand and willing him to wake up and be fine again because it was all her fault.
The news had spread quickly throughout the Ministry shortly after Hermione had urgently called for assistance. Some had said Neville was dead and others had simply said that he had fallen gravely ill. No one had known the truth; someone had cursed the teacup he used on a daily basis.
It's my fault! Oh, God, how can I be doing this to him! My fault and my involvement with the Death Eaters and Draco…
Hermione's heart had been leaden with guilt and fear that Neville would not survive his time at the hospital but it had taken the Healers only a few hours to determine that whatever curse had been cast on the teacup, Neville would survive and awaken within a day or so. They had insisted that there was nothing more she could do and that she ought to go home and have a rest but Hermione was unable to pull herself away from Neville.
She would come early in the morning and leave long after all others had gone. Still it did nothing to assuage the heavy guilt she felt. And on top of that she had the uncanny feeling of being watched…everywhere she went. Perhaps that was simply paranoia from too much anxiety and not enough rest. But it couldn't be helped.
On the second morning of her vigil, Hermione was startled out of her dark reverie by the door behind her opening and the shuffling of shoes. When the sounds stopped and all was silent, Hermione lifted her head to find Minerva McGonagall watching her thoughtfully. She had aged much over the years and was not able to get around well without help now. Hermione had not seen her since right before the end of the war.
"Miss Granger, they told me you were being insufferable."
Hermione's eyes watered at the familiar way Minerva spoke; it reminded her of all those years at Hogwarts as a student. Those were such innocent…such sweet memories in the face of what had happened after.
Minerva's face held a patient smile and before she knew it, Hermione had wrapped her arms around the elderly lady and held her close.
"I am so glad to see you," she whispered. "Thank you for coming."
Minerva held Hermione for a few more seconds before gently pulling away.
"I am sure they told you Mr. Longbottom would be fine?"
Hermione wiped her watery eyes and nodded.
"I know the say that but I just…"
She looked helplessly towards her sleeping husband unable to truly express her guilt in words.
"You couldn't have known."
"Again, I know, but I feel like…"
She fell silent once again and finally sighed in resignation.
"I am tired," she admitted and Minerva smiled knowingly.
"I'll stay with him if it brings you some comfort."
Hermione reluctantly agreed and then leaned to press her lips against Neville's cool forehead sending up another silent prayer to a God she had long ago stopped believing in. Then, after thanking the elderly witch, she slipped out of the room and walked towards the back staircase so that she wouldn't be seen; the last thing she wanted was questions and concern from people she didn't know.
As she moved down the cement stairs towards the street, Hermione's mind whirled erratically. What would she do now? Would she tell Neville the rest of the truth when he awoke? Would she go warn Pansy and those that were with her? And what of Draco? She desperately wished that she could wrap her arms around him and forget the rest of the damned world. That's where she wanted to be the most even if it was a horrible and selfish thing. His love was all that she could truly take comfort in.
The piercing pain of her argument with Neville at the Ministry had not faded away; it had simply been masked by the fear that he would die from the curse. But now that he was on his way to recovery, her heart began to ache in reminder of the betrayal she had felt at his accusations.
Was she nothing but a Death Eater's whore? Hadn't Neville known that there was something between herself and Draco? Why would he condemn her now? Was he simply that hurt? Or that resentful?
Can I truly blame him?
Hermione stepped out onto the damp pavement and hurried away from St. Mungo's. Shuddering, she realized that she would never be able to sleep, no matter what she needed. Making a quick decision, Hermione closed her eyes and felt the familiar swirling and twisting as she quickly Apparated into London and rushed towards the Ministry Headquarters.
The sun had not quite risen above the sprawl of buildings and the air was still crisp and fresh. It was early enough that Muggles had not yet starting their working day and the cars that passed by on the roads were sporadic. The noises from the streets waxed and waned and during the quiet moments, Hermione could hear the thumping of her heart as she hurried up the walkway. During one of those quiet moments she heard the sudden whooshing of air behind her and it caused her to stop and turn. There was no one about.
I'm going mental. That's all. I've been on edge and paranoid since Neville's accident. I've been up for over twenty-four hours straight and it's starting to make me a bit…
Hermione caught her breath and then turned to continue on her way when she heard the voice. It nearly made her scream out loud in surprise.
"Be careful, Hermione."
She recognized the speaker a split second before she turned to find Lavender staring at her from the morning shadows that fell between two of the buildings that lined the walkway. It was hard to tell from the darkness that lingered there what sort of expression the blond woman was wearing but Hermione sensed there was nothing sinister lingering beneath Lavender's flat tone.
Still, she could not shake the cold that had washed over her heart as she gazed at Lavender. The other woman couldn't quite look her in the eye which proved to be unnerving and the silence was thick with tension. For a few moments Hermione searched for something to say – anything – because as the seconds passed the urge to scream grew stronger.
Finally she spoke, her words hoarse.
"What are you talking about, Lavender?"
"You need to be careful who you cross, Hermione. Everyone knows about your husband."
Now, her voice had dropped and taken on an odd, frantic quality. Hermione's heart froze.
"Was it you?" she hissed and stepped forward, towards the blonde woman. "Or wait - was it Blaise? Did he have something…?"
The horror washed over her, freezing time, her heart and ever one of her senses so that she felt like a husk of nothingness, burning all the way from her frantically beating heart to her very extremities.
Lavender only blinked and winced when Hermione reached to grip her by her blouse.
"Tell me!"
"Be careful. Blaise should never have lost his job."
Hermione saw red through the haze rage induced tears.
"You bitch!" she exclaimed. "You allowed you husband to do this? Are you as insane as he is?"
Though Lavender tried to get away from Hermione's grip she offered very little fight.
"I don't know what you mean. I didn't do anything wrong."
There was nothing in the depths of Lavender's blue eyes or her calm expression to indicate otherwise and Hermione, though incensed at having no proof of her suspicions, loosened her grip on the other woman's collar.
For another tense moment they stared at one another.
"I thought that after everything we've been through you might be the one person who…"
Hermione choked on her words, tears burning the backs of her eyes.
"The one person who what, Hermione?"
Lavender's words were not warm or scathing. Still they did not strengthen Hermione's will to push forward even though she did.
"You should be the one person who understands. We've been through the same thing; we're damaged because of it."
A vehicle rumbled behind them and passed. Lavender offered a laugh of disdain.
"Yes, I am damaged," she hissed. "But nothing you say or do will make me believe that you understand what I've been through!"
Hermione's eyes widened in shock.
"What do you mean?" she whispered. "I know what it's like to suffer! I know how awful those alienages were just as well as you do!"
Lavender remained stiff, her eyes narrowed in Hermione's direction.
"You don't know what it's like to sell yourself to the highest bidder! You don't know what it feels like to have to give up your very pride and virtue just to survive! You haven't had to lay with hundreds of men simply to make a galleon!"
Hermione hesitated but decided not to say anything and Lavender's voice began to quiver.
"You think just because you've lost people you love that it makes you different?"
She laughed as she said this though the sound held no joy.
"Well, let me tell you something. You're not different. I lost people too! So has every Muggle-born and half-blood that was lucky enough to survive the sodding war! You're not different and no one feels sorry for you!"
Hermione was taken aback by the tears that now filled Lavender's eyes.
"I lost my family! I lost my best friend! I lost everything I loved about my life and on top of that I lost things you never have!"
She swiped at her falling tears.
"I lost my self-confidence and my will to choose. They forced sex on me even when I didn't want it. They beat me and mocked me and treated me like rubbish for years! And I kept going back because I had to. They took away my trust, my will to live and the very virtue that I was holding on to because it was all I had left. You don't know how that feels so don't you dare compare your cushy life to mine!"
"Cushy?" Hermione exclaimed in outrage.
Lavender seemed unfazed.
"While I was getting raped and beaten at the alienage, you were living in Kensington as Malfoy's very well taken care of whore."
"That wasn't our choice! And who are you to be calling me a whore?"
"And you're not? Pot meet kettle, as the old Muggle saying goes. The only thing that saved you from my fate is that Malfoy fell in love with you and rescued you from the clutches of those who tormented me for months! You were safe while I was desperately missing my daughter and the man I loved!"
Hermione felt tears spring up into her eyes. They were hot and blinded her vision causing her to blink furiously.
"You talk down to me as if your situation was different! You also fell in love with a Death Eater!"
Lavender's tears had frozen.
"Yes, I did. But look where I am now! He's left me and you're the wife of the Minister! Everything good in this life you've gotten while I've been shoved aside over and over again!"
Her voice had soured with anger and resentment and her chest heaved with difficult, ragged breaths.
"You don't know this but the night I met Blaise he was with Draco," she said. Her voice was strangely calm in comparison to the fire that churned in the depths of her eyes. "They were celebrating along Paddington Street. Blaise had gotten a promotion and they were with that horrid Flint."
Hermione shuddered at the sudden flurry of thoughts that washed over her. Fear and disgust, Flint's body lifeless on the snowy ground…Astoria…and of course, the brick walls of the building where he had nearly made her…
Nightmares – Marcus Flint had been the star of Hermione's nightmares for years.
She stopped thinking about it as Lavender continued, hanging her head so that Hermione couldn't see her face.
"I was working out of one of the pubs there, you know, along Paddington Street. Some of the more dodgy ones allowed us to do whatever we needed to."
Her words alluded to the seedy things Lavender would not actually voice.
"I remember feeling so sodding helpless! Like I was drowning in darkness and just barely breathing!"
Her words had grown thick and choked.
"I know it was horrid but I actually found hope in those same men that raped me over and over again."
Horrified, Hermione dared to look at Lavender who was watching her with a stricken expression.
"Death Eaters had the power; they were the ones who held our fates in their hands and as much as I hated them…I also knew they could help me if they wanted."
Hermione could hear the faint echo of Lavender's pained words in her own heart, knowing they were true. It was why she had turned to Draco; when there had been no other choice for her he had been her only hope.
"Draco wasn't as bad as the others," Hermione whispered.
It was the first words she had spoken without anger. Lavender choked on a sob.
"I know it. I begged Draco to help me; I offered him everything. I offered myself, just as you did."
Hermione stared, swallowing back heated words, shocked at the revelation.
"And he rejected me," Lavender whispered. "Did you know that other women had thrown themselves at him? Begged for help and he rebuffed them all?"
Hermione shook her head, mute.
"Until you," she continued. "Something about you…"
Her body went limp as she slumped against the cold, stone wall of the building they were standing by. The sun had risen over the buildings shining merrily in spite of the tension between the two women. Hermione felt stupefied.
"Other women?"
"They whispered at the alienage, you know."
"I know."
"About how much they hated you. About what a whore you were and how you must have been so good for Draco to keep you as his mistress for so long."
She had turned away now, her voice low and gravely.
"They laughed about how disgusting it was that Draco looked down about his colleagues for fucking Mudblood prostitutes like me but keeping a Mudblood mistress. It was the worst sort of hypocrisy."
Hermione felt her cheeks burn with shame. She was unable to look up but felt Lavender's gaze burning through her.
"What is it about you?"
The question lingered in the morning air between them, echoing against the sides of the two buildings that flanked the alleyway.
"Why were you good enough to garner his attentions when the others weren't?"
Hermione was speechless, unable to reply or defend herself. She knew that her love for Draco had never made sense and therefore whatever it was about her that had captured his attention was also nonsensical.
Still, I can't let her make me feel like I did something wrong!
The indignation welled up within Hermione and she stood swiftly, staring down at Lavender with growing displeasure.
"I did what I had to," she said in a low, gravely voice. "It meant my survival and I did it just as you did. What is in the past will stay there. You've moved on! You've married the love of your life, haven't you?"
Her voice was quickly marred with sourness.
"Even though he's cruel, thoughtless and ruthless."
"And Draco wasn't?"
"He would never have done the things Blaise has and is still doing now! He nearly murdered my husband!"
Hermione's rage was evident but Lavender did not flinch. It was an odd thing, the way she seem imperturbable by emotion. This time, however, she did not deny the accusation.
She stood, gripping Hermione's wrist tightly and leaned in so no one could hear.
"I might resent you for the life you've led and for every bad thing that's happened to me," she whispered against Hermione's ear. Her breath was reminiscent of tea and mint. "But I am not your enemy."
When Hermione managed to pull away, feeling at odds with her proximity to Lavender, she noticed the other woman's eyes had flooded once more with tears.
"I hate what happened to Neville. But Blaise always gets what he wants. If he knew I was talking to you…"
Lavender visibly shuddered.
"I'm not the one you should fear. I'm warning you. Be careful."
Hermione had noted the serious change in Lavender's words and the fear written in her tear-filled eyes. And when the grip on her arm loosed, she tried to hold on for just another second.
"Lavender, if you know what I'm supposed to do or who did this…"
Lavender shook her head.
"I can't. Just…you have to be careful."
"But-"
The air around her moved and just like that, Lavender was gone with a 'pop'.
St. Mungo's
Her heart beat shallowly within her as Luna gazed down at Neville, her tiny fingers wrapped around his weathered hand.
Neville had always been just a friend.
Luna had counted on him, reminisced with him, vented to him, and been there for him when things at the Clinic had been tough…
He's just a friend. I can't possibly…
She sat on the hard-backed chair next to his bed watching his eyes fluttering open and felt her soul twisting with confusion.
He is another woman's husband; he is Hermione's husband!
Neville opened his eyes, and blinked.
"Hermione?"
That's right; he wants Hermione.
Luna had always been the practical sort of girl and she had always known exactly what she wanted. The laughter, whispers and strange looks meant nothing to someone who had a clear vision of her goals and focused on those instead of what was going on around her.
She had known she would eventually be a Naturalist.
She had known Rolf would be her husband almost from the moment he had given her his shy smile.
And she had known that she wanted a family – she had wanted to be there for her own children just the way her mother had been there with her until the very end.
Neville Longbottom had never been a certainty in Luna's life. Until that moment – until that first moment she had heard he had nearly died in an accident at the Ministry. Her heart had stopped; her life had been shaken.
She had been changed.
Could life change in a split second? Could hidden feelings be revealed so violently? Was a human being able to feel so painfully naked and foolish?
"Hermione."
Once more he struggled to say his wife's name, the three syllables thick and slurred on his dry lips. Luna quickly flicked her wand towards a pitcher of water and filled a glass before reaching in with a soft cloth to wipe the water against his mouth. His brown eyes flickered across her face as she gently ministered to him, trying to understand her silent, confused thoughts.
When she finally spoke, her words were a whisper in the empty, cool room.
"She was here all morning, Nev. They told her to go get rest."
For a moment Neville stared at Luna and then his eyes watered and spilled over, running down his pale cheeks and into the pillow that his head was resting against.
"Horrible things," he managed to choke out and Luna instinctually gripped his hand in hers, squeezing it.
"Shhh…"
"Horrible things, Luna. She told me horrible…did you know?"
Neville appeared to be confused but still tried to get the words out.
"Did you know the truth? All of it or did she lie to us all?"
Luna reached to wipe his tears with the cool, wet rag.
"Shh…you must be still," she cajoled softly. "We all assumed things but how can you ask someone to share something they can't?"
"She lied to me," he moaned. "She lied and I lay next to her every…night…"
Luna swallowed, hating to see the pain on Neville's face. There was something about his eyes, the way his mouth quivered that tore at her heart in ways she would never have believed.
In ways she had never known or considered, having written him off as nothing but a friend so many years ago. Not anymore; not now.
"Neville, we all knew she was hiding things."
"Not…like this. I knew she had…I knew that Malfoy had…but to…"
Luna sighed knowing that sometimes it wasn't worth knowing the truth especially if it caused unnecessary pain. Would this end their marriage? Unlikely. Would he love Hermione less? Impossible.
"Do others know? Has she told them? What if the Ministry finds out? What if…"
Luna soothed him softly.
"She hasn't said a word."
Tears slipped down his cheeks slowly.
"I love her," he moaned and it tore at Luna's rapidly beating heart.
"I know," she replied, biting her lip. "She knows that too."
"Draco…"
Luna reached to smooth his soft brown-gray hair.
"He's dead, Neville. Draco is dead. Whatever went on with them, no matter how little sense it made, died with him. You're free to love her and I know she loves you."
And I'm here, dear friend, having realized the truth too late.
Ministry of Magic, London, England
Hermione couldn't still her panicked heart. She couldn't get the image of Lavender's miserable and rage-filled face from her mind.
She wasn't aware of the passing of time and the call she placed to St. Mungo's about Neville's steady condition passed as if it had never happened. She ignored messages, stopped answering her office door. She sat within the large, book-lined room weeping in terrified silence.
Hermione knew that tears would do little to remedy the situation but as she paced back and forth across the room she couldn't stop the tears from falling.
She was terrified.
She couldn't recall being this terrified since her year at the alienage.
What would happen when Neville recovered? If Lavender had told the truth surely Blaise would try again. Would he punish Hermione through Neville or – God forbid – Leo?
Her heart stopped beating at the though that something might happen to her sweet little boy. Quickly she Flooed Ireland to reassure herself that Leo was still fine. A few moments later and after Seamus' certain if not cold reassurance that her son was fine, Hermione sank down onto the chair by her massive desk and put her face into her icy hands.
What if Blaise would not stop? What could she do?
I have to protect my family; I have to warn Ginny. And I need to get Draco and the others out of England!
Guilt raged within Hermione at her utter inability to choose her husband over Draco. She knew that no matter how she felt for Neville, Draco would be her priority – that and making sure that he was safe.
I want you for as long as I can have you.
What if this was the end? What if her decision to move him out of London would mean she'd never see him again?
Fresh tears seeped from her eyes, wetting her trembling hands as her heart broke.
It's the only way...it's the only way. I can't exist in a world where he does not. It's for the best; I'm married to someone else and I love him too.
Hermione stood and waited for the shaking to pass before sending a quick message to Ginny. She would need help and there was no one else who knew her secret.
Hermione was determined to keep it that way and to stop Blaise from hurting anyone else.
Somewhere in London
Draco made a striking form as he paced back and forth under the thick, emerald canopy of the trees that surrounded him. He was dressed in well-fitted black trousers and a crisp white shirt under a matching black coat. Ginny had managed to tailor the clothes to his body and with the glamour charms his disguise was complete. He was clean shaven and the glasses he wore seemed to accentuate the molten color of his gray eyes.
Ginny had to admit he was more than presentable – in fact, he was quite handsome. Draco no longer looked like a Death Eater on the run and more like a wealthy wizard come to London on Ministry business.
The pacing, however, made him look nervous and frightened. Both knew that if they were caught there would be more than hell to pay.
"Stop pacing!" she insisted with a hiss. "No one knows we're here but me."
"Hermione-"
"Hermione doesn't know you're here. She's coming to meet me. She..."
Ginny stopped speaking then and the silence was filled with the happy twittering of birds around them. But the joyous sound seemed out of place amidst the heaviness of Ginny's heart and Draco's incessant pacing.
Hermione had sounded scared.
It was all Ginny could recall from the harried conversation. That…and Hermione's insistence that they meet quickly to discuss something important. About Draco and Neville…and Blaise Zabini.
Could she be in danger? Merlin knows she's been going behind Neville's back to help that...
Ginny couldn't even think of Pansy without growing angry but when she turned to see the look of complete despair on Draco's pale face that anger faded.
He's a person too. They all are. Hermione had the heart to forgive the Death Eaters for everything…
If someone was in danger then they had no time to waste. There was nothing to do but help Draco, Pansy and the remainder of the Death Eaters to escape England. Hopefully without anyone noticing.
She turned to tell Draco to stop pacing once again when there was a pop and Seamus apparated, her children and Leo at his side, hands linked tightly.
"Wh-what are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly just as Draco stopped and turned, his mouth dropping for a moment.
"Hermione," Seamus said breathlessly, his voice holding a note of disdain and annoyance. "She sent me a barmy message about Leo and it left me a bit flummoxed, it did. Thought I'd come see ya and find out if everything's all right?"
His blue eyes flickered from Ginny's look of surprise and then towards a man dressed in black standing by the canopy of trees.
"Who's that?"
Ginny swallowed. This would be the test, though she hadn't been quite ready yet.
"Hermione mentioned that Neville had a meeting with a gentleman from the French Ministry. Apparently it was important and she told me to meet with him until she can get here. He's a Mr. Etamin Black."
Seamus' eyes flickered with interest.
"Really, now? Sure, he looks shook. Pale, yeah?"
Ginny shrugged.
"Maybe traveling doesn't sit well with him," she suggested casually hoping that she wouldn't have to go into anymore details of Draco's new persona or that Seamus wouldn't be much more observant.
Swallowing back trepidation, she led her husband, children and little Leo toward Draco, who looked like he had seen a ghost – Seamus was right – he was too pale. Ginny gave him a stern expression hoping that it would remind him to relax.
"Mr. Black, I'd like you to meet my family. This is my husband, Seamus Finnigan and my children, James, Albus and Lily."
The children smiled up at Draco and then Ginny patted Leo's soft, auburn curls. But an introduction would have been useless because Draco had stopped paying attention, his eyes wide with wonder as he stared down at his little boy.
Slowly, he knelt onto the soft grass and Leo gave him a curious expression.
"Mama tells me all da time it's rude to stare."
Draco laughed; it was the first honestly joyful sound Ginny had heard from him.
"Your Mama is a smart woman, then, and I apologize."
Leo grinned.
"I not mad."
Draco beamed.
"That's good," he managed to say though his voice was tight with emotion. Then he stuck out his hand and Ginny noticed his long, pale fingers trembling just slightly.
"My name is Etamin Black."
Leo gasped.
"Dat's my name! I'm Etamin too!"
He looked around at everyone with a smile.
"Dis man has my name!"
The little boy looked back at Draco curiously.
"But my middle name is Etamin. My real name is Leo. Mama says is after the Lion 'cause I'm strong."
For a long moment it appeared that Draco was fighting against a tide of emotion but in the end he only smiled tenderly.
"I'm sure you are."
Before Leo could reply there was a popping sound; Hermione had Apparated to meet Ginny and she stared, at first with surprise but then, quickly, with heart-stopping realization.
Hermione felt light-headed.
At first she had blamed the raging emotions within her – the fear and anxiousness…and the need to protect her family and Draco. With every beat of her aching heart she had pondered on how she could do both without being found out. But all that changed the moment she glimpsed the man in black, who knelt next to her son. At the glorious yet impossible sight, Hermione felt her knees go weak. She didn't feel herself stumbling; she felt nothing except-
Sweet Fanny Adams! No, it's not possible, is it?
But she knew that it was. That…or she was dreaming again like she had all those months after Draco had sent her to St. David's with Charlie and Angelina. Hermione blinked.
He was tall and lithe. The suit he wore fit him perfectly and he was the epitome of grace and gentility. He was smiling down at Leo and his gray eyes gleamed behind wire-rimmed glasses so much like Harry's.
No, no. It's a dream. A beautiful, impossible, horrible, exhilarating dream.
He smiled and then spoke.
Hermione knew.
Draco.
It was Draco. Maybe someone else would have missed the inflection in his words or the flashing of those quicksilver eyes but not Hermione. She knew; she knew him just as surely as she knew the most intimate parts of her own heart. Somehow Draco was no longer hiding in the brick house but standing next to his son and talking with him.
Somehow the dream of our son finally meeting his real father has come true. Oh, God, let this be real! Don't let this be a dream!
Hermione took in a shaking breath as her eyes watered and then, another bout of light-headedness caused her knees to buckle. As she stumbled towards the grassy earth she was aware of Ginny, who quickly pulled out her wand and softened Hermione's fall and was soon clutching her arms and leading her away from the small group.
Hermione could barely speak, so great was her shock.
"Gin, I…that's…that's…"
"I know," she whispered.
"But…how-"
Ginny pressed her lips together.
"Charms," she replied. "I…I wanted to help, Hermione. I know you love him and he…"
The two women were silent at Ginny's hushed admission and then Hermione was crushing Ginny to herself in a heartfelt embrace, fighting tears so that they would not draw attention to themselves. She trembled.
"So it's really him?" she wept joyfully. "He's with Leo! Oh, God! I hadn't dared dream that Draco would-"
Ginny shook her head.
"Don't say it. No one knows and I'd rather it stay that way. We can't let anyone know. Not Seamus and not the children."
Hermione took a few calming breaths, squeezing Ginny's hands tightly enough to make the redhead wince.
"You're right," she whispered over and over again. "No one else can know."
Tears filled her eyes.
"I spoke with Lavender this morning."
Her voice was thick with tension.
"I think Blaise is behind…Neville being cursed and I don't know what's going to happen if he finds out that Neville survived…"
Ginny reached over and put her arms around Hermione trying to tell her it would be all right even though she no longer knew if it would be.
The werewolf's eyes gleamed and Blaise shuddered inwardly, trying to push his chair away from the stained, wooden table.
"You and I are quite alike, Commander."
Blaise sneered.
"I am nothing like you," he hissed, tasting bile and the remnants of his breakfast.
"We lie, manipulate, torture and maim. I'd say that you are just like I am. Remember those years we used to hunt for prey together? Isn't that when you met your whore?"
Greyback's sharp teeth gleamed in the dim lighting of the dodgy pub and once more Blaise felt so sick he thought he would retch.
"Don't you dare bring up those times! Don't you see, you fool? I only did what I thought I was supposed to! Now…now it's different!"
He smacked his hands on the worn wood of the rickety table. Greyback only laughed and downed the remainder of his wretched-smelling ale.
"Is it? And yet…here you are. Asking me to murder the Minister?"
"No, that's not what I asked you. I asked you to go and fetch him and bring him to me."
Greyback stood and offered a macabre leer.
"Is that not the same thing, Commander? You aren't one with much patience especially if things don't go the way you want them to, hmm?"
Blaise stood up so that he would not be undermined by the half-insane wolf.
"Bring him to me!"
Greyback laughed.
"Commander, when you finally take your rightful place as the seat of the British Ministry, remember your lowly servant, Fenrir," he said in a voice that dripped with disdain. Then his dark eyes flashed.
Blaise fought hard not to cower in fear.
"I am the one who is doing your dirty work," finished the wolf. "And I will want to be repaid."
With one last, awful smile, Fenrir Greyback slipped out of the pub, leaving Blaise alone and unnerved.
I can do this. I must do this! I am the rightful Minister, not that half-brained prat, Longbottom! I worked for it; I want it!
Just like every time he felt fear stirring his heart, Blaise steeled himself against it, looking towards the future, towards his goal.
He would be Minister for Magic. He would destroy Longbottom and his nosy, trollop of a wife and their bastard son. For a moment he thought of Malfoy and coldness seeped into him.
Sod's better off dead. Too bad his son's not with him. I should have taken him out the first chance I got! I should have left that bitch to die at the alienage. I should have done a lot of things I didn't but it's going to all change, I swear. I will be Minister. I will destroy the remaining Death Eaters and then I will rule Wizarding Britain the way I think it should have been ruled under Voldemort!
If Blaise had ever felt sympathy, it was gone now. He had no time to feel; it was time to act.
I will be unstoppable.
He smiled.