The silence was deafening as Ron looked from one person to another before settling his gaze on Hermione.

"The Cup of Immortality."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Draco snapped, his last shred of patience breaking as he glared at the red-headed wizard.

Ron glared at Draco before turning his attention back to Hermione who sat slack jawed at Blaise's antique desk.

"Djemscheed," she muttered, eyes widening as she grabbed hold of one of the books that was open in front of her.

Draco turned to Blaise, who shrugged, just as confused as he was.

"Care to enlighten the rest of us?" he asked his wife, growing increasingly frustrated with her and their friends keeping him in the dark.

Hermione flipped the pages over hurriedly, muttering to herself. "This," she stated, thrusting the book at her husband. Draco snatched it up impatiently, immediately recognising it as her Major Case Squad notebook.

"This is from Bakhtak's notebook-you said his notes were a mixture of arithmancy, ancient runes, and Farsi," he replied, looking over her notes.

"Yes, the one word that kept coming up was Djemscheed." She pointed to where it was written in her notes. "The literal translation of the word is 'shining', so obviously that didn't make any sense." Elaborating, Hermione picked up another book. "I don't know why I didn't see it before," she muttered, flipping the pages as Blaise leaned over to take a look at her case notes. He'd been vaguely aware that they had an informant in a safe house known as Bahktak 'The Ghost"; a Middle Eastern albino, who was a high profile target for the Ministry in hiding due to the rather large bounty on his head. The status of this man was unknown to him. However, there was little Draco could say about his cases, and Hermione could only divulge so much when he helped her with her research in the Zabini library vault.

"Here!" Hermione cried, pulling Blaise from his reverie as she thrust the book under their noses, motioning for Ron to take a look as well.

"The Cup of Djemscheed: The Cup of Divination, Scrying and Immortality."

"How does any of this help us find Pansy though?" Ron asked, confused as Hermione furiously scribbled notes.

"Well, if we know what they are after, it's certainly a start. Isn't it Ronald?" she huffed, continuing to write.

Draco picked up the letters. "We need to know more about these if we're going to find her," he stated, handing them to Ron.

Running a hand through his hair, he put his now empty tumbler down on the desk and unfolded the letters, placing them in order.

"She got this one while we were in Morocco. Before she fell pregnant with Cosimo," he sighed. "We took no notice, thinking it was just Death Eater sympathisers trying to stir up trouble."

He pointed to the second letter. "This one arrived just after we came back here." He looked up at Draco. "I wanted her to tell you, but she wouldn't."

Draco nodded, understanding Pansy's stubbornness. It almost rivaled his wife's. Almost.

"This one arrived the day before Cosimo's naming ceremony. She still wouldn't let me tell you, so I tried to pay them off, thinking that they were just trying to frighten her with stories because of her Father."

Hermione thought back to the day of the ceremony. Ron had been upstairs, Pansy unable to find him. Now, Hermione realised why: he'd been contacting the blackmailers.

"This one arrived a week later." Draco took the letter, reading the taunting words about it being useless sending money, that what they were after was priceless and they would find the key whether Pansy helped them or not." He shuddered at the thought of how far they might go to achieve their ends.

Ron grimaced, "This last one arrived two days before she was kidnapped. I told her we should come home and alert you, both of you, but she wouldn't listen. Merlin, why the fuck didn't I make her listen?" Ron growled, striding over to the sideboard and pouring another drink.

"Pansy has always been one to do things her own way. She almost never accepts help from either of us. It's always been her way," Blaise told him.

Ron took a gulp of his drink, looking over at Hermione, uncertainty washing over him for a moment before he turned to Blaise. "I need her back, Zabini. I've never loved anyone like I love her."

Hermione stood from the desk, silently crossing the room, reaching for Ron's hand. He blushed a deep shade of crimson at his frank revelation in front of his former girlfriend. She smiled reassuringly, reaching up to cup his cheek in comfort.

"We will find her; this is what my husband and I do best: Major Cases like this are our forte. It's why Harry hired us, after all," she grinned, hoping to break a little of his tension despite her own fears. She looked over at her husband, wondering if he was still in a funk. Not that she blamed him, but she did think it was a bit unfair of him to take his frustrations out on her.

Draco rolled his eyes at the typically Gryffindor-esque show of affection. Silently, she glowered at him, her eyes conveying her thoughts. "Stop being a prat, I married YOU didn't I?"

He returned her look with one of his own, and she immediately knew his overriding emotion was fear. Suddenly, she felt a pang of guilt. Ron had his parents here. Draco needed her by his side. Giving Ron's hand one final squeeze, she walked over to Draco and took her book from his hands. Hermione gave his shoulder a small squeeze before settling back down at the desk.

.

Sometime later, Hermione put her quill down and rubbed her temples, arching her back that ached from being hunched over her work for so long. Looking round the room she realised Ron and Blaise were no longer there, presumably having gone to bed. Her gaze fell on the leather couch in front of the fire where her husband lay reading.

"What time is it?" she croaked, her voice hoarse. She reached for the now stone-cold tea beside her, grimacing at the taste, but thankful that it soothed her parched mouth.

Draco rose from the sofa, placing the letters on the desk as he stood behind her, gently massaging her shoulders and neck. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch.

"A little after 2am," he murmured, feeling her reach for her quill. "Oh no you don't," he told her.

Hermione frowned as she felt him place his hand atop hers, stilling her movement.

She sighed as he pulled her up.

"Bed."

"I'm not a child, Draco," she admonished, allowing him to lead her from the room anyway.

"No, just a workaholic," he stated, grinning at her frown.

"You were working too!" Hermione complained as he lead her up the stairs.

Draco gave her hand a squeeze. "No my love, I was waiting for you to be done."

"I'm not even tired," she moaned, slipping into bed as he held the cover up for her.

Draco chuckled as he climbed into bed behind her.

"Of course not, dear."

Within seconds, she was fast asleep, and with an exhausted sigh, Draco followed right along, his arm wrapping securely around her waist.

.