With her hand resting on the doorknob, Hermione smiled to herself as she heard the familiar sounds of a lullaby she'd heard sung many times to James Potter. She felt her heart clench in her chest at the bittersweetness of the moment, feeling the emotions of the woman singing the soft tune. Slowly opening the door, she softly padded into the room, careful not to disturb her godson or startle his grandparents. Looking round the room she saw Arthur dozing on the sofa, his wife Molly gently rocking in the chair next to him with Cosimo wrapped in a bundle in her arms as she sang.
Sensing her presence, Molly looked up and smiled. "Ah, hello Hermione. Sorry, let me just put little Cosimo in his crib," she whispered, starting to rise.
"Here, let me," Hermione offered, stepping towards her, arms outstretched.
Molly smiled and gently transferred him, assisting Hermione as she cradled the baby in her arms. Hermione pressed a soft kiss to his forehead as she walked him over to the crib, before carefully lowering him into it.
She turned, biting the inside of her lips to stop herself laughing as Molly, frowning, nudged Arthur who awoke with a rather undignified snort.
"Sorry, must have dozed off there. Hello, Hermione."
"Honestly!" Molly admonished her husband as they made their way into the adjoining sitting room.
Binny set down a tray of tea and toast on the coffee table before disappearing with a crack. Hermione poured Molly and Arthur a cup each before settling on the sofa opposite them.
"You must be exhausted Molly. I am sure Binny would be only too pleased to help take care of Cosimo so you can have a break," Hermione suggested sympathetically.
"Nonsense, I raised seven children without elves; one grandchild is not a problem," she waved, dismissing the idea.
"How is Ron?" she asked them, looking towards the shut bedroom door.
"Utterly beside himself," Arthur sighed as Molly brushed away the beginnings of tears that threatened to burst forth.
"Poor boy hasn't left the room since he returned. He spent twelve hours with the Aurors-most of which he was being interviewed since he was the last person to see her," Molly murmured, pain evident in her voice.
Arthur patted her arm in comfort. "He was at the apothecary in Cadiz getting some teething potion for Cosimo. When he got back to the yacht, Cosimo was screaming and Pansy was nowhere to be seen. There was evidence of a struggle, so he knew immediately she'd been taken. He alerted the authorities, who found traces of Dark magic, but there wasn't a strong enough trace for them to follow," he told her, his tone somber.
.
A little while later, Hermione found herself kneeling beside Ron's bed. She reached out to brush his fringe out of his eyes, his blank expression staring back at her, unmoved by the comforting gesture.
"Oh, Ron," she murmured, tears staining her cheeks.
He whimpered under her touch, his eyes filling as he blinked. As his hands reached out for her, she allowed him to pull her in. She climbed onto the bed beside him, feeling him shift slightly as he drew her to him, desperately clinging to her like a child.
She wasn't sure how long they lay like that before she heard the door softly creak open. Looking up, she saw Draco standing at the end of the bed, one eyebrow quirked questioningly.
She glanced over at the now sleeping Ron and shrugged slightly at her husband, who motioned for her to follow him out of the room.
Entering their suite on the floor below, Draco cast a silencing charm on the room.
"Why is Weaslebee lying in bed?" he questioned her, disdain dripping from his words.
Hermione glared at him. "He's distraught!" she hissed.
"Lying in bed isn't going to bring Pansy back, Hermione," Draco sneered, starting to pace the room.
"I know it won't, Draco, but what do you expect him to do? He isn't an Auror, and he feels hopeless because, if he was one, like you, Harry, and me, then he would be out there looking for her. Can't you see this from his point of view? What if it were me?"
Draco spun round. "If it were you, I would turn the whole world upside down looking for you, and I would face Hades himself to bring you back. I wouldn't be moping around, lying in bed, and feeling sorry for myself," he yelled, pain burning in his eyes. Merlin knew he was hurting enough for Pansy and he was fighting to find her, he didn't even want to think about it being Hermione. It was bad enough when Avery had taken her, albeit briefly. He considered that some of the worst moments of his life.
"He isn't feeling sorry for himself, he feels guilty and blames himself," she cried.
"And so he should!" Draco yelled, glaring at her.
"You bastard, how can you say that?"
"Because he knew, Hermione. He knew she was in danger and he said nothing, to Blaise, to you, to me. Not even to Potter."
Hermione's face was a mixture of shock and confusion.
Draco threw the letters down on the coffee table before dropping onto the couch.
"She was being blackmailed. He tried paying off the blackmailer, and kept it all to himself. He should have told us," Draco muttered, his head in his hands as Hermione took the letters and started to read.
"How did Blaise find out?" she murmured.
"Weasley confessed when he returned, after Blaise found him tearing the suite apart," Draco sighed, looking up at Hermione.
"I don't understand," she murmured, scanning the letters. "What would they be blackmailing Pansy about?"
Draco let out a wry chuckle. "Isn't it obvious?"
"I thought you said the Parkinson's were neutral during the war?"
"Neutral, yes, but still part of Wizarding aristocracy," he stated bitterly. "Her father, no doubt, had ties to The Brotherhood. He certainly had ties to Voldemort," he sighed.
Hermione sat down beside him, lacing her fingers with his.
"We are never escaping any of this are we? It's always going to haunt all of us, somehow, isn't it?" he muttered, the resentment giving an edge to his tone.
Resting her head on his shoulder, she felt him bury his free hand in her curls as she closed her eyes. "I don't know, but I do know that no matter what, we will find her and we will put an end to this somehow," she murmured.
.
It was late evening when Ron appeared in the study, a large Firewhiskey in his hand. Blaise and Draco looked up from the letters as Hermione rushed to him, hugging him tightly. He smiled down at her before looking over at Draco.
"I owe you an apology," he stated, shifting uncomfortably.
Draco said nothing, his features classically Malfoy-stoic.
"I should have come to you, but she begged me not to," Ron told him, looking away.
"Why? What hold did they have over her?" Hermione asked, gently pressing him for more information.
Ron hesitated before answering, "They told her they would come for her and then they would come for you."
"Me?" Hermione whispered, shock evident in her voice. "What would they want with me?"
"I'm not entirely sure; all I know is they thought her Father knew where it was hidden," he told her.
"The Stone," she stated, returning to her notes.
"That, and the Cup." Ron explained, sitting down.
Three pairs of eyes fixed on Ron as Hermione asked,
"What Cup?"
.