Persistent tapping pulled her from deep sleep She groaned as her eyes fluttered open. With a sigh, she pulled herself to a sitting position, reaching down to retrieve Draco's t-shirt from the floor before padding across to the window. Retrieving the note, her vision started to blur a little at the edges as a slight wave of dizziness washed over her. She clutched momentarily at the dresser below the window before the feeling subsided.
"Shit," she murmured as she took a steadying breath. A little voice inside her head suggested that she ought to listen to Draco more when he warned her about working herself into exhaustion. She scoffed at the notion that he might be right about something as she opened the note.
Scanning the contents, she headed out of the suite and down to the library, pushing the doors open quickly, searching for her husband. Already sat at the desk, their work spread out across the surface, he looked up as she hurried down the little staircase.
"It's from Harry," she rushed out, handing him the note. "They have found the yacht."
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Striding along the jetty, they made their way towards the yacht, wands drawn. Aurors had been stationed at various points, the team surrounding it moving in at Draco's command. Crossing the threshold, they moved in sync, securing the perimeter, before entering the living quarters. Muffled screams came from the room at the far end as they made their way along the corridor. Reaching the door, Draco glanced at Hermione, his ever stoic features masking his inner turmoil. Turning the handle, he thrust the door open, his wand raised, ready for an onslaught that never came.
"Secure," he called over their muggle communication devices, courtesy of the Major Case Squad Quartermaster. Only then did Hermione step into the room, gasping at the sight of four witches, each bound to a chair using the incarcerous spell, their voices muffled with a charm.
Casting the counter curses, she worked quickly to free them of their restraints.
.
Sitting in the dining room of the yacht, each witch huddled under a blanket, fingers clamped tightly around steaming mugs of tea laced with a healing potion and a calming draught. Hermione watched as the mediwitch checked their vitals once more. The door creaked open, breaking her reverie as Draco popped his head in, motioning for her to come out of the room.
"We need to interview them," he stated quietly.
"I know, but the mediwitch said that we need to give them some time," she whispered.
Draco slammed his hand against the panel of the wall opposite.
"Damn it, Hermione; they might have information about Pansy," he ground out, frustration evident in his voice.
Hermione gave his shoulder a squeeze. "I know, love, but we are more likely to find out if that is the case by giving them some time to come to terms with what they have endured. If we rush in too quickly, they will shut down and we won't find out anything," she explained, her gut twisting a little with guilt at the memory of their argument the night before. How ironic, she mused.
.
Closing the door with a soft click, Hermione made her way to the main saloon where Draco and Harry sat waiting for her. Sensing her approach, Draco looked up, searching his wife's face for any hint of what she had discovered from the interviews.
Seating herself next to him, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze before she began.
"They were each under the imperius curse, brought on board two days ago. Each had been blackmailed prior to their kidnap and subsequent cursing. All were taken to their family estates to search for hidden items, not one can recall what specifically they were asked to search for. Not one of them was successful in this endeavour, nor did they recognise the photograph of Pansy I showed them." She explained, glancing at Draco.
"I don't understand," stated Harry as he took off his glasses, rubbing his tired face with his hand. "Why were they left on the yacht for us to find?"
Hermione shook her head. "That I do not know, but there's more. Each witch had their left hand bandaged." She turned to Draco. "Does that mean anything to you?"
Draco screwed up his face in thought, his fingers coming up to scrub furiously at his forehead. Pausing, he turned to Hermione, his eyes wide with realisation.
"Blood wards!" he stated, pointing to his left hand. "The left hand is always sliced with a silver blade to alter the wards. That must be…"
"...why we found her blood on the blade," Hermione finished, trembling.
"So then they must want access to one of the Parkinson's properties," stated Harry, realisation dawning.
"Which one?" asked Hermione as Draco stood and started to pace the saloon.
"I have no idea. It could be any one of them," he muttered, interlocking his hands behind the back of his head. "I need to get back to the library."
Harry looked up at him and then across to Hermione and back again "Okay, that was weird."
.
Opening the ledgers he had obtained from the Moroccan apartment, Draco searched for the list of properties owned by Pansy's father. There were at least half a dozen that he knew the location to and a dozen more that he was unsure of.
Hermione frowned. "What we need is a map," she murmured.
Draco's eyes snapped to her, "Of course!" he cried, planting a triumphant kiss on his wife's cheek as he took the stairs two at a time, striding out of the library with purpose. Moments later there was a crack beside her and a house elf stood rubbing his hands on his shirt, his eyes refusing to meet her curious gaze.
"Mistress, the Master requires you in the West Wing study," the elf informed her in a slow drawl that reminded her of Krecher.
"Thank you….. I am sorry, I do not know your name."
The elf scowled, scrutinising her carefully before looking at her with his beady eyes. Disdain laced his voice, "Skervus," he replied.
"Thank you Skervus. Could you lead the way?"
The elf slinked away as Hermione dashed to keep up as she followed him along the oak paneled corridor.
"I know where I saw the map now," Draco informed her as she entered the study.
"Where?!" she cried.
Draco pointed to the far end of the rather impressive study. Thick velvet drapes hung from floor to ceiling; approximately 20ft Hermione estimated. In between hung a magnificent map of Languedoc below a 3ft Malfoy Crest made from porcelain which hung impressively above the map.
"There."
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A/N: Thanks once again to my beta xxDustNight88 for being so brilliant :)