The van was quite full, with all of them and Professor Greengrass and her girlfriend on top. For Robert's sake they listened to Winnie Pooh on the way. Dad had promised that it would be the much more interesting 'A history of the world in 1000 objects' on the way back, when Robert would hopefully sleep. Still, they had fun. They all knew the story by heart and as it happened, Ellie, as she insisted on being called, despite being a full professor at a muggle university was quite familiar with it as well. They all quoted Piglet's agitation about the Heffalump in unison, and it was only Professor Greengrass who seemed at a loss. Rina saw her mum's smile and suspected that Robert had just been an excuse. Ellie certainly was at ease, not that she looked like she could be easily ruffled.
Mum and dad fought about where to turn. Dad said loudly that he knew the way, that the satnav was plain wrong, while mum insisted that she had accounted for the muggle repelling charms when she entered the address.
Meg told Ellie that mum and dad were not fighting, but simply discussing. "It's not serious," she told Ellie. "Unless they call each other 'dear'."
Somehow dad had noted Meg's remark. "For fuck's sake, Meg, will you stop with this. Mum and I sorted it out, we've told you. There is no reason to fret."
"I've never heard mum and dad call each other 'dear'," Colin said. He shuddered elaborately.
"WASTED", Robert said.
Mum laughed. "Oh my, I hope Theo and Daphne do not call each other dear. It seems like we programmed Robert to say wasted, every time someone says dear."
"Wasted," Robert said. He smiled his angelic smile that duped so many people into believing he was a little angel.
Rina wondered what mum and dad had fought about. Meg had not been very forthcoming.
When dad turned into a small lane and the van came to stop in front of a gate, mum murmured something inaudible.
"What did you say, my dear?" Dad's drawled out the last word on a real long note.
"Wasted," Robert sang.
Mum laughed again. "I was voicing my discontent with the fact that you were right about the way."
Professor Greengrass left the van and waved her wand. The gate transfigured into a huge iron gate with guilded bars. The park behind the bars was huge and the villa was sitting on top of a slope, the sun was making the marble stairs shine. Rina tried not to gape.
"Will we reach the house before evening?" Ellie asked. She smiled but Rina thought she was insecure.
"I'll try my best." Dad answered.
"Dad," Lizzie wanted to know. "Is Malfoy Manor as grand as this?"
"Grander," Mum's voice was barely audible.
Dad shot her a look from the side. "Don't think about that day, Hermione."
"What about the Greengrass estate?", Ellie wanted to know.
"About the same size," Professor Greengrass remarked.
It really took them about twenty minutes to reach the house. Dad didn't want to drive too fast on the gravel path.
House elves were busy preparing tea on the terrace, and the Notts greeted them. Mr Nott smiled openly and friendly and circled the van with curiosity. He gave his wife's sister a peck on the cheek. Ms. Nott stayed a little more aloof. Ms. Nott was perhaps the most beautiful woman Rina had ever seen, every shiny blond hair exactly in place, a decently shaded lipstick, and just a touch of mascara. She was all gracious hostess. Still, Rina felt very much out of her depth. The porcelain looked as if it had cost a fortune and Rina hoped that Robert would not break anything.
Dad bent down and brought Ms. Nott's hand close to his lips without touching it. Suddenly Rina understood why he wore a suit and why mum had insisted they all dressed at their best. Even in her best dress she felt like she did not belong. She wondered how Ellie felt, Ellie with her black jeans and sensible boots, and her short haircut.
Mr Nott clapped dad on the back. "Tea will be ready in about half an hour. Just enough time to do the research part, I hope. Why would you even want to find a distant cousin? Do you hope he might give you some of the money, if you find him?"
"This is not about the money, Theo. This is about a chance to see my mother." There was a ghost of a frown on dad's forehead.
Rina followed dad into the house, even though Mr Nott had not invited her in. She wondered if he thought business was for men or if he was just not a very considerate person. Ms. Nott had been true to her word. There was a big manuscript on the table, and it was opened at the page where the Frederic Greengrass and Lysistrata Malfoy marriage was part of the family tree.
"May I?" Rina asked. She unpacked her pencil and paper and worked her way through the volume. She had done this several times with the books at Hogwarts after all. Mr Nott chatted on during her research, presumably he talked about some of dad's former Slytherin housemates. Dad made appropriate small talk sounds but was focussed on Rina following the lines of descendance.
Rina could follow the issue of Frederic and Lysistrata Greengrass for three generations, and at first it looked good. They had had four children, all married, and Rina followed their offspring, meticulously taking notes, while Mr Nott still would not be silent. Rina wondered if he was someone who tried to bridge awkwardness with talk. Dad and he had been friends in their childhood, but Rina wondered what common ground was left to them.
After about twenty minutes, Rina had researched every one of the four branches and had met a dead end for each. The last one was a tragic Quidditch accident where both of the Fawley brothers, issue of the Max Fawley and Tilda Greengrass marriage had taken deadly falls from their brooms. At least, the volume gave the information. Rina had seen too many family trees that focussed solely on the male line.
She looked up, her eyes met her dad's and she shook her head. Dad made no comment, his mouth was a thin line.
Dad looked at his watch. "We just have time to look for the Theodore Nott of 1788."
Mr Nott led them deeper into the house and they reached a grand ballroom where one wall was covered with the Nott family tree. And indeed, there was Theodore Nott, married to Euphemia Malfoy in 1788, and the line went directly down to the Theodore Nott who stood beside them and his two sons.
Rina edged closer and looked at the tapestry. It looked as if someone had mended it, very meticulously, but mended, nonetheless. She spoke a spell that bent the air, so that she could study the details like through a looking glass.
Dad stood at her side, a frown on his face. "What happened here?"
Through Rina's looking glass spell, the mended threads were clearly visible. "Family tapestries are magical. They should mend themselves, unless there was a curse."
Mr Nott's laugh did not sound entirely genuine. "Well, this is our skeleton in the cupboard."
"You see, this Theodore was actually a Theodora. She was an only child, her father had died early and her mother raised her as a boy."
"And she was not found out?"
"No, they lived as recluses, she did not attend Hogwarts and she was an expert at illusions. Her marriage to Euphemia Malfoy was much happier than many other Nott marriages to be honest. They loved each other dearly."
"Whose child was Eustace Nott then?" Dad pointed at the line that went from Theodora and Euphemia to the next generation.
"Theodora masqueraded as a man, not only because it gave her greater liberty, but also because she hated her cousin Dionysos and she wanted her line to carry on the Nott name, and her blood."
"She got pregnant by a random man, they had invited into the house and they raised the resulting twins as the children from their marriage."
Dad scoffed. "He was a muggle, Theo admit it. He was a muggle, they would never have risked letting their children be sired by a wizard who could tell on them."
Mr Nott pursed his lips, neither denying nor confirming dad's guess.
"What did they do to him?" Rina wanted to know.
"They obliviated him and sent him on. We have no idea who he was." Mr Nott averted Rina's questioning eyes.
Rina smiled. "Hopefully, he was happy for a while." Her throat felt dry.
"Well, Theo, there goes your chance of becoming the heir of the Malfoy fortune." There was just a tiny hint of disappointment in dad's voice.
"I don't need any more money. I wouldn't know what to do with it." Mr Nott laughed. "Let's get the tea."
He led the way out and Rina dawdled on their way out. When Mr Nott was out of earshot, she raised herself on tiptoes to whisper in her father's ears. "Do you think it's the truth?"
"What, Theodora/Theodore or the obliviation?"
"The obliviation."
"I sincerely hope so. The other alternative I can think of is worse. But your mother would probably tell you that I have a sinister imagination." Dad did not explain further, but Rina did not need to ask. Sometimes Dad really did not seem to believe in people's inherent goodness.
Notes:
More mystery...
This chapter and Theodore/Theodora was part of my outline since the very beginning... just saying...
Chapter 64: Nott Villa II
Summary:
Colin has only slightly better luck than Rina with his line of research.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Lizzie and Meg soon sat at a table with the Nott twins and played "Exploding snap". House elves were bustling around, and Colin thought it was a great opportunity to talk to other elves than the Hogwarts elves. The elves did not wear livery and Ms. Nott did not reprimand them for talking to the guests. Colin was not accustomed to House elves in old wizarding households, because Pansy and Neville had none and the Zabinis only had one, but there were sayings like "the best house-elf is a quiet house-elf" and he felt himself warming a little to the Notts.
"Hi, I am Piddy! I have heard about the Malfoy from Gryffindor and his search for elf lore." One of the elves addressed him.
Colin felt himself redden. "I just want to understand, why elves in muggle literature are so different than what the wizarding world knows about elves. And I want to learn about elves' history. It is a pity that you don't write your history down."
"I can show you something," The elf pointed at the corner of the house, where a beautiful rose bush grew. Colin noted that he talked like Prudy, referring to himself as I and not with his name.
"Oh, please do," Colin said and let himself be led closer to the corner of the house.
"I was born a free elf, the day, your parents married, and the cornerstones cracked."
"You mean, when the house elf rebellion started?" Colin's was excited. "I've never met an elf who is that young. The elves at Hogwarts are all older."
"That is why I can tell you." He looked at Colin, expectation in his eyes.
"You can tell me what?" Colin asked.
"You ask", the elf answered.
That was a bit vexing. Why show him and then shy out of telling the story in full. Colin frowned. It seemed like he had to find his way through.
"What does 'the cornerstones cracked' mean?"
"Look closely," Piddy answered.
Colin knelt on the ground, with no care about the fact that he would stain his trousers.
"Yes, there is a fissure in the stone, just here at the base. It's as thin as a hair."
Colin stood up again, and Piddy nodded gravely.
When the elf was not forthcoming, Colin tried to delve further. "Crack in the cornerstones, you said? Like in many cornerstones? And that happened the day my parents married? Or probably when their marriage was registered in the wizarding world?"
"All the cornerstones in all the houses," the elf answered. "It is very important."
"So, Malfoy Manor and the Greengrass estate and all of them, they have the same fissure?" That must be what the elf meant with 'all the houses', all pureblood houses.
"Every house with elves," Piddy informed him.
"But why?" Colin was puzzled.
"They are waiting for the chisel. The chisel that can scatter the shield, the chisel that can change the elves' destiny."
"Sorry, I don't understand." Colin shook his head.
"You will," Piddy smiled at him, just as mum called them to come to tea.
They drank tea and Colin was surprised that people could talk at such lengths about so many boring subjects. He usually enjoyed when he could be part of adults' discussions, but not this time around. By the end of tea, he was up to date about every pureblood family, or it felt like that.
Some of the names he knew from Hogwarts of course, but he really was not that interested in the piano lessons of Xenia Rowle. He wondered if Ms. Nott was just not knowledgeable enough about other subjects. And he wondered, why she did not ask Ellie anything. Supposedly this visit was about getting to know Ellie, wasn't it? Colin was dying to learn about her job at university. University sounded like a fun place.
"Max Rosier was so worried about his Stephen's magic. He was almost ten before he showed any signs of accidental magic. And the Sloanes also were beside themselves with anxiety. My father told them to consult with one of his friends, you know, Mr Fjodor, the Russian whose daughter Natasha is in such a dreadful battle for custody with her terrible ex, what's his name again?"
"Terry Boots," mum put in. "He's my client."
Ms. Nott seemed taken aback by the fact that there was another side to the battle for custody, but obviously decided it would be rude to comment on that. "Anyway, the Sloanes went to consult with him and it turned out their Wilfried had magic after all."
"I am certain that was such a relief." Professor Greengrass' voice sounded strained and Rina thought she gave her sister some signs to stop that particular line of talk, but Ms. Nott carried on.
"I am so glad that my twins showed magic at five. I wouldn't know what to do if they had no magic."
"They probably would do what squibs have done for centuries. Live in the muggle world," his father cut into the discussion. Colin thought he could hear a hint of anger in Dad's voice, although he was still smiling politely. "It is not that bad."
"Oh yes, you would know, of course. For a moment I almost forgot. Tell us, how do muggles cope? I think it must all be terribly difficult, Draco, my dear."
"WASTED"
Ellie laughed loudly. "Your little one really loves that word, doesn't he, Hermione?"
"It's not difficult at all, Daphne." Dad's smile did not reach his eyes, his face was the mask Colin associated with their brief excursions to Diagon Alley to get their school stuff. "You know, muggles have come up with all kinds of things. By now their technology can do most of the things, wizards and witches can do. Ellie here is a historian. She can tell you all about the advancement of technology."
"After what I know from Astoria, I would say, that we have everything you do, save apparating perhaps. That sounds terribly convenient and makes me quite jealous." Ellie chimed in.
"And there are some things that might be better." Dad added.
"Better?" Ms. Nott's voice had raised a pitch, plainly showing her disbelief.
"You know, Muggle mail is much faster with electricity and phones nowadays, about as fast as sending a patronus I would say, and then there is the internet."
"The what?", the Notts asked.
"You people have no internet?" Ellie managed the high-pitched disbelief as well as Ms. Nott.
She laughed. "Although there are people who say the internet was a terrible idea."
Dad scoffed. "Only for people with too much time at their hands."
Now, this promised to become much more interesting than talk about pureblooded children. Dad took out his phone. Colin could see him checking the signal.
"Not very good, but it will probably work. Do you have any remaining anti-muggle devices spells at work here, Theo?"
Mr Nott shook his head. "I changed all of the anti-muggle spells after the war. Took me three years. By now we hide with illusions and Do-not-notice-me spells."
There was a glint in dad's eyes. "Ask me any question, and I'll answer in less than one minute, even if it is something, I don't know anything about."
The Notts had a lot of questions, but between dad, mum and Ellie, Google and Wikipedia they really managed to answer everything. Who had been muggle minister in 1963, when the Romans had come to Britain, how many miles it was to Glastonbury.
Colin would have felt sorry for the Notts, because very soon, the talk became a competition between dad, Mum and Ellie. Mum took out her own phone as did Ellie, and then she put a scutum on them and they were engrossed in firing questions and finding answers at such a speed that the Notts barely managed to put in the occasional question.
Colin exchanged glances with his siblings. Rina grinned, Lizzie rolled her eyes, Meg hid her giggle behind her hand. Colin himself chimed in with the occasional answer he just pulled out of his head because he knew.
Ellie obviously enjoyed herself, and Professor Greengrass smiled at her girlfriend. The Notts finally understood that they had a better chance, if they asked questions about the wizarding world, but mum and dad still did not run out of answers.
Mr Nott asked a question about a very particular paragraph of wizarding law on time turners and mum looked at her phone and produced the answer in seconds.
"How can this muggle net produce answers on wizarding law?" their host wanted to know.
"I cheated," mum smiled. "That is not actually on the internet but in my personal cloud."
"Your personal what?"
"I scanned the wizarding laws, I mean I sort of transformed them with a muggle device, and then I made searchable texts for Hermione to use. It was my present for our fifteenth wedding anniversary." Dad shared a smile with mum.
"And it was the best present I ever got." Mum winked at dad.
"Your husband gave you law texts and you think that was the best present ever?" Ms. Nott asked. "You are weird, Hermione, absolutely weird. I would kill Theo if he didn't give me jewellery for our anniversary."
"Searchable is the keyword here, Daphne. Searchable and available anywhere."
Ellie elbowed Professor Greengrass who sat at her side. "Relationship goals, dear."
"Wasted," Robert said.
Notes:
I like Theo Nott in most fics and I feel kind of sorry, that he only is a very small side character in this fic, but with Draco living in muggle London because of his scutum, I think it was unrealistic to give him more than two close Slytherin friends (and these are obviously Pansy and Blaise).
Chapter 65: Amortentia (April 10, 2002)
Summary:
A finding at Draco's flat seems to provide the answers Harry and Ron have been looking for.
Notes:
I fear, you are all going to hate me for this chapter... But you were warned, you knew the 'Amortentia mess' was coming...
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ron stirred listlessly in his tea. It wasn't that the tea at the auror department was not good, but ever since the Malfoy trial had ended with Malfoy and Hermione walking out of the courtroom hand in hand, everything seemed to taste stale.
"We will get behind what he did, Ron," Harry tried to console him. "We're aurors."
Ron shook his head. "I really wish, Malfoy had just stayed in Muggle London. I wouldn't even have minded that, if I had known."
That might not be entirely true. If someone had asked him half a year ago, if he would have minded Malfoy living in Muggle London amongst Muggles, without magic and working like a common muggle, he probably would still have insisted that the bloody ferret should face the consequences for his actions. But now….
Who would have guessed that the git would walk free out of the courtroom and steal his girl? That was preposterous, not at all how it should have been. Ron was a hero, he had destroyed a horcrux, even though he had to remind himself constantly that this was the case. He was supposed to live happily ever after with his pretty wife, his best friend and his sister, a tight knit group, forged in the fires of war.
Nobody should have been able to tear them apart. And yet, Malfoy had come, had been arrested for Merlin's sake. It should have been an opportunity for Ron to gloat. Only, the ferret was free. Free! The bloody wizengamot had let him get away free! And now Malfoy was with Hermione, married, if only after Muggle fashion. Ron tried very hard not to let any images of what that entailed enter his mind.
"I still don't get it. I mean he could fake this whole scutum business."
Harry shook his head. "No, the way hexes rebound when they hit him looks exactly like when a scutum is cast. We tried that."
"Maybe this permanent scutum is only half the truth and he can still cast after all. And he might have put an Imperius on Hermione."
"Ron, we've been through this. You can't do magic under a scutum. It's not possible."
Harry sighed. "And it wouldn't explain…." His voice trailed off.
"You mean, it wouldn't explain that Hermione kissed Malfoy in sixth year? How did she call it? Stolen kisses?" Ron could feel the anger rising again.
"It can't be true." Harry shook his head. "If it were true why did she never tell us? Why did she never tell you?"
Ron felt the by now familiar squeeze around his heart. Why, indeed?
"Do you think she …. " He breathed in and tried again. "Was she already in an understanding with Malfoy when we had our terrible row? I can't help but think about all these hours of consultation."
"I don't know, Ron. It is as if she is another person…. He must have done something to her. Anything else doesn't make sense."
"We're going to figure it out." Harry let his fist fall on the table.
"She told Luna that she broke up with me. What did she tell you?"
"That there wouldn't be a wedding."
"That's what she told me as well. She might have meant it as a break-up." Ron let his head sink in his hands. "To think that I was convinced that all would be o.k. once this bloody trial was over and Malfoy safely away in Azkaban. I pictured myself comforting her over her lost case."
He laughed bitterly. "I still can't believe the wizengamot let him go. Harry, maybe you should have …." Ron did not finish the sentence. It was no use. Harry had done his best, looked for Malfoy's sketches, just an hour before he had stood as witness, and yet Hermione had somehow turned everything upside down again. From hindsight it was always easy to say: 'you should have'.
"I had no idea. I had absolutely no idea. Can you believe it. He must have lusted after her at least since the Yule Ball. The bloody prick." He still wondered, how Harry had guessed it.
Hermione should have been appalled, disgusted, and then… Ron snorted. 'Stolen kisses'. Was this supposed to be a love story? He hated how Hermione had played the star-crossed lovers. Malfoy was just a selfish git who used her to get out of prison. That was not love. That could not be love.
He raised his mug to his mouth and made a face, when he realised that the tea had become cold. It was with relief that he saw Dawlish approach. He was burning to go on a mission. Hopefully, Yaxley had been sighted. Ron would love to hunt a death eater.
Dawlish let himself fall into the chair next to them. "We found something".
Harry raised an eyebrow. "That is not very specific. Which case and what did you find?"
"In Malfoy's muggle flat."
"We must have turned that around about a hundred times after he was arrested." Ron was torn between curiosity and the need to defend his own diligence.
"The Malfoy case is officially closed," Harry cut in. "He can't be tried for the same thing twice."
"It's not a criminal offence, not yet, anyway, but you could still use it against him." Dawlish looked positively smug. Dawlish had been as unhappy about the verdict as Ron.
"Smith found it, not directly in Malfoy's flat, but close enough and nobody else could have put it there, in the middle of Muggle London."
"Just spit it out." Ron loved a good story, but there was no need to draw this out.
"Under the planks of the corridor that leads to his flat. Vials. A cauldron."
Ron frowned. "It can't have been directly at his flat's door. We checked that." He wished again that Malfoy had just stayed in his tiny flat forever. Ron had been surprised how small it was when he and Harry had sifted through Malfoy's meagre muggle belongings.
"Potions need spellwork." Harry was not convinced either.
Dawlish grinned. "Well, Malfoy claims that he can brew potions without spellwork, doesn't he? And we learned something interesting when we brought the remainders of the potion to Professor Slughorn to let him run an analysis."
"There is one potion that can be brewed without spellwork. It is quite tricky, it must simmer long periods at the exact temperature, and it takes a long time, but it can be done. If you had enough patience and skill, any muggle could do it, provided he or she had the recipe."
"You really keep us in suspense, but let me take a guess, it's not Phoenix Potion."
"Phoenix Potion!", Dawlish scoffed showing what he thought of that claim. "Amortentia."
Ron jumped up. "Amortentia! That bloody bastard! I'm going to kill him." His anger flared and rolled through him in a sudden rush.
Harry caught Ron's arm and pulled him back into his chair. "You know very well, that Amortentia is not illegal, Ron. So, you're not going to kill Malfoy and land in Azkaban yourself."
"But surely, we can give Hermione the antidote!" He loosened himself from Harry's grip. Relief almost made him giddy. They had just to give Hermione the antidote and then everything would be back to normal.
"You remember, Harry? Merlin, when I swallowed that potion Romilda Vane had made for you and Slughorn gave me the antidote? My feelings just evaporated like mist in the sun!"
He also remembered that he had almost died afterwards if it had not been for Harry's quick thinking. That had been Malfoy's fault as well.
"We might have trouble getting close enough to her." Harry objected.
"We'll ask Luna. She'll do it, once she knows about the Amortentia." Ron had listened in to Luna and Hermione discussing a meeting after the honeymoon. Honeymoon! He shuddered involuntarily. To think that Hermione had been dosed with that vile potion.
Dawlish harrumphed. "There is a catch with Amortentia that is brewed like that according to Professor Slughorn."
"You should think it is less potent than the version with spellwork, but it is actually more potent," he explained. "The antidote does not work. The only remedy is to cut the victim off from the exposure."
Ron felt himself deflate. They could not very well bundle up Hermione to separate her from her husband. She would definitely not like that. "If he had gone to Azkaban as he should have, then they would be separated by now. Damn! How did he even give it to Hermione? It must have been that blasted elf!"
Harry was not convinced this was helpful either, even though his face was burning with anger. In his face Ron saw the same need to do something he felt himself. "Dawlish, Amortentia is not illegal. I don't see how this helps us."
"Well, Malfoy won't go to Azkaban for that, but still. You would have to play your cards carefully."
Ron was tempted to throttle Dawlish. Why couldn't the man just say what he had planned?
"Amortentia might not be illegal, but the law allows to apply the antidote forcefully to a victim if relatives insist."
Dawlish made a dramatic pause. "Or in case relatives do not exist, someone reasonably close."
"Hermione's parents have returned." Ron interjected.
"But they do not remember their true names and they are muggles anyway." Dawlish waved Ron's objection away. "So, who could be someone reasonably close?"
"Would the executor of her will be close enough?" Harry seemed to have a better idea where Dawlish was headed.
"For a muggleborn, with obliviated parents, with no magical relatives? Certainly."
"Hermione didn't change her will yet, Ron, did she?" Harry looked at Ron over the rim of his glasses.
"As far as I know, she didn't." Ron's heart beat hard in his chest. This might be a possibility. Hermione would be angry as a hellcat, but it was only for her own good, and she would see that, once she was rid of the effects of Malfoy's blasted potion.
"So, I could petition for administering an antidote to her?", he asked eagerly. "And since there is no antidote, the wizengamot would enforce her separation from Malfoy?"
"That is the idea," Dawlish patted Ron on the shoulder as if he were still in training and not a full auror. Not for the first time Ron wondered if he should just leave auroring and do something where he would not be patronised.
Harry shook his head. "But would the wizengamot separate a married couple? Your father was not happy about it, but he got several reminders by Hermione to register the marriage. Didn't he say something like that yesterday when we were at George's?"
Dawlish laughed. "Have you not heard yet? The wizengamot has a vested interest in separating our newlyweds."
This time Harry was as clueless as Ron, which reassured Ron that the problem was Dawlish speaking in riddles and not his own inability to follow.
"You do own a house elf, Mr Potter, don't you?"
"I freed Kreacher two years ago, on Hermione's insistence. She worked out a contract that would not disturb his magical bond to the family, so technically no. I don't 'own' a house elf."
"I see", Dawlish chuckled. "It's still kept a bit under wraps for now. But in every household that has elves all hell broke loose, yesterday."
"What exactly is the connection between house elves and Malfoy?" Ron was terribly annoyed by Dawlish's attitude by now.
"It seems like some Malfoy ancestor made a pact with other pureblood families to prevent their heirs marrying persons of 'disrespectable blood status'." He showed his own distance from these terrible ideas by indicating the quotation marks with his fingers. "And they all agreed on that, binding their promise to the bond to their house elves. They wanted to really have an incentive so that no one would deviate from their bigoted idiocy."
"And?" Ron asked. He was close to hitting Dawlish.
"The house elves are in midst of a bloody rebellion, demanding contracts and fair work conditions and all that, because the Malfoy heir has married a muggleborn witch."
"But he was disinherited."
"Apparently, it still counted."
"Merlin…. So, everyone who owns house elves will be in favour of a separation."
"But separation doesn't mean divorce." Harry still doubted Dawlish's scheme. "The House elves would still be on strike."
"Once the effect of the amortentia vanishes, your friend will want a divorce."
"How long?" Ron wanted to know. That was the important question, wasn't it? How long until Hermione was normal again? How long until everything was as it should be?
"Two years, Professor Slughorn estimated. He said we should ask for two and a half years to be on the safe side."
Harry shook his head. "A house elf rebellion."
Suddenly he laughed out loud.
Ron looked at his friend, askance. "Two and a half years, Harry, I don't think it is that funny. Hermione might be mad at us for two and a half years!"
"Malfoy has started a house elf rebellion." Harry grinned. "Don't tell me you think that's not funny. I wish, Dobby had lived to see this!"
Harry clapped Ron on his back. "You know, the effects of the potion might be dulled much sooner. We might get a double wedding after all."
Ron smiled wildly. "We'll get our Hermione back."
Notes:
Maybe I should stress again, that I don't hate Ron, and I hope you don't hate him after this chapter.
People will believe lies either because they fear they might be true or they will believe lies because they want them to be true... Harry and Ron very much want this to be true.
Chapter 66: A phone call
Summary:
The Granger-Malfoys leave Nott villa and drive home and Draco receives a phone call.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
They listened to Winnie Pooh on the way back after all, simply because it would certainly put Robert to sleep. Draco checked in the rear mirror and saw Colin smiling at the peaceful face of his little brother. Robert had run around, making the most of the big park, and had played tagging, his favourite game, with the elves. Draco suspected that he was the only one who had thoroughly enjoyed the visit. Rina had barely contained her boredom, Lizzie and Meg had at one point fought with the Nott twins over their card game, and Colin's detour in the Nott library had been a disappointment. No books on house elves and no books in another language.
"I wish elves would not abhor 'Customs and Conventions of the Common house elves' so much," Colin said. "Every elf at Hogwarts makes a face, and Piddy today pretended he had to vomit."
"It's slavery apology, Colin, of course, they hate it." Hermione remarked.
"Yes, but how am I ever going to learn anything when they refuse to have a look at this particular copy. I mean it could be a secret elf language and they could actually help me instead of just giving me general encouragement how they think my research is great and then telling me nothing."
He scoffed. "Piddy told me today 'You ask'. That's such a fat help."
"Well, maybe they know, it's just the same rubbish in another language." Draco chimed in.
"I'm sure it is not." Colin protested.
"Most elves don't get a proper education. Any language they know is self-learnt. Many might not know a foreign language." Astoria told Colin.
"It's not French or Latin, is it?" Draco asked.
"Dad!" Colin shouted, in a rare bout of puberty impatience. "I would have recognized any Romance language, even if I had no private tutor in Latin like you had. You and mum gave us enough lessons, thank you very much."
"Latin is very useful." Draco defended all the hours he had drilled them with Latin grammar.
"I didn't say it isn't. All I'm saying is that I would have come to you if there was a remote chance this was a Romance language."
"Might I have a look," Ellie asked. "I've done a little bit of Russian and I might recognize if it's a Slavic language.
She shrugged and laughed. "It would mean that some good could come out of this disastrous visit."
"You think the visit was a disaster?" Astoria asked. "But you said something about 'relationship goals'."
"Tori, you do not think I meant your Marie Antoinette of a sister and her amiable recluse of a husband?"
"Thank Merlin! I was so puzzled about your remark. Yes, it was an absolute disaster."
Hermione and Draco laughed at Astoria's relief, and tension that had hardly been feasible dissolved. Draco had not really expected to easily reconnect with Theo who had been a friend when they were children, but he had expected at least some common courtesy, instead of meaningless socialite prattle from Daphne's side and heavy silences from Theo's, occasionally interrupted by nervous and much too jovial talk about housemates who had never even tried to contact Draco.
"Daphne thought that talking about squibs and muggle inferiority would be appropriate small talk for the company. Theodore XVI and Daphne Antoinott". He knew he was snarky and Hermione's eyes told him so, but he shrugged.
"To be fair, Ms. Nott probably was at a loss, once she had discussed the contents of every pureblood babies' nappies. It's so difficult to come up with a more interesting topic after that." Rina stated.
They all laughed.
Draco changed lines and when he looked shortly back, he grinned at Rina and he saw that Ellie bent over and gave Astoria a kiss.
"Hermione and Draco showed her though, didn't they? I think your sister really tried, she just had no idea what to talk about in such unusual company. I know you won't chide me, that I like your lawyer and her family much more, even if they cannot hide their intellectual snobbery. Makes me contemplate adoption."
"Adoption?" Astoria's voice rose a pitch, if in horror or excitement, Draco could not have told.
"Our children are not available," Draco joked. "And you saw for yourself, no respect for their elders and swots all around."
Ellie chuckled. "I like inquisitive minds, now, will you show me that book, Colin?"
"Who was Marie Antoinette?" Meg asked.
"A queen of France, who thought that poor people who had no bread should eat cake, because she had no idea about how it was to be poor." Astoria answered her.
"Look who has learned about history." Ellie's voice held a hint of pride. "What a pity that the joke about 'Daphne Antoinott' only plays to such a small audience." Ellie was a woman after Draco's heart. Who cared about having a big audience for a joke if the right people were amused.
Draco could hear Colin rummaging in his bag for his book, and then Ellie leafed through the pages. "No Slavic language, sorry, Colin. You might try the oral traditions of the elves, if they don't write much. Oral traditions are very tricky, because they are easily adapted to explain the present, but it might be worth a try."
Hermione turned around to look at her son. "Luna is your best option, Colin. You can ask her at Penny's party. And after that we'll go to the British Library, I promise."
"How did the family tree research go, Rina?" she asked Rina. Draco grimaced and shook his head.
"Lysistrata Malfoy had four children, but believe it or not, all dead ends after three generations, and Euphemia Malfoy was not the mother of the two children she officially had with the Theodore Nott of the 18th century. Theodore was actually Theodora and seduced some unsuspecting muggle to sire her children."
"Juicy," Hermione raised her eyebrows "and yet such a pity."
"Heard anything from Weaselette, yet?" Draco asked.
Hermione turned around again and looked out of the front window.
"No. The Black and Weasley end is really long ago. It might take her some time."
"Well, that's just my luck." Draco sighed. "At the end of the day I can probably decide to whom I want to grovel, to Potter, to Arthur Weasley or to Geoffrey Sloane. And it says something that Potter would probably be the least painful."
He risked a glance at his wife and could see Hermione scrunching her face as if she had tasted something bad, but she did not contradict his assessment. The faintest hint of bitterness was in his own mouth. He would curse his father if he were not beyond any curses. Hermione laid her hand on his arm and pressed shortly.
"We could try France", she suggested. "I mean, Ellie is a historian, she could help us find your French ancestors. After all, she has just decided to adopt us."
Ellie laughed. "I was talking about adoption in general."
"So, children, it is France for the next summer holidays." Draco called to the back of the van.
They had just dropped off Astoria and Ellie near their flat when Draco's phone chimed.
"Who could that be?"
"Probably that annoying woman again." Draco grumbled. "She calls every week and is over me all the time. I swear if she reorders the menu for her friend's wedding again, I'm going to ….."
He looked at the display that was visible because his phone sat on the small shelf beside the driver's seat. "Number's not familiar."
"Draco, if you take it, just put the call on speakers. You are driving."
"Children you know the drill, everyone's quiet for a moment."
Draco pressed the buttons on his phone.
"Yes…"
There was some static on the line. "Is this Mr Miller from Fortescue and Miller?" Draco would have recognized this voice everywhere.
He gripped the wheel of the car as if he wanted to shred it. Hermione gave a short shout of surprise.
"Indeed, madame" His voice sounded raspy in his ears. "How can I help you?"
"I apologize for calling you although I've never been introduced to you, Mr Miller. I am an old woman and I am not sure if I handle this thing correctly."
"No need to apologize, madame, I can hear you just fine. I hope you can hear me as well."
"Loud and clear." Draco felt his heart clench.
"Love, I think you should pull over. Do not take this call while driving." Hermione whispered. Her hand stole again to his arm.
Draco felt like he was in a daze. He nodded, put the blinker on, turned left and stopped the car switching on the emergency lights.
"Your voice very much reminds me of someone I knew Mr Miller."
"Voices barely change, I've heard. Yours reminds me as well of someone I knew, Madame." Draco fought to keep his composure.
"What a coincidence. I had the pleasure of getting one of your cakes as a present and I just wanted to tell you, Mr Miller, how much I liked the chocolate-lemon cake and to take the opportunity to ask how you are."
Draco drew a ragged breath. His hands were shaking. He reached out and took Hermione's hand and pressed it in the attempt to anchor himself.
"If you happen to have a little bit of time at your hand, Madame, I can tell you how I am. I hope you would do me the honour of telling me how you fare as well."
"Gladly. We might have mutual acquaintances, one never knows."
One of the children asked what kind of strange customer would ask about his personal life. Draco barely registered, that Rina shut them all up with a whispered 'that's the lady who sent the books to Hogwarts'. Winnie Pooh was singing 'tiddelypom', but Hermione switched off the player.
He wondered how his mother had managed to get a connection via phone. She must have disabled about every muggle device repelling charm at the manor and somehow managed to get a phone and activate it. It had taken Theo three years to manage the cleaning of Nott villa.
Draco picked up the phone and muted the speakers. Then he told her about Fortescue and Miller, about his 'clever lawyer wife' and the children, all the while concentrating on not giving names, fearing that a false word might trigger the curse and cut the connection.
"My youngest adheres to a strict 'one word policy'. He should be talking sentences by now, but he has far too much fun with vexing us with single words. I suspect he understands far more than he lets on."
"I know of a boy who was like that." Suddenly, Draco remembered that his mother had once told him, that his parents had almost despaired of him talking, until he had suddenly begun to talk in full sentences.
"Tell me about yourself, madame."
"My husband died last November. I am a widowed old lady, but I get more visitors now, when I got the last two decades."
"That is good to hear." She probably meant Pansy, Luna and Astoria. "I bet there are more people who would visit you, if they had the chance."
"I think someone came to my husband's funeral which was just outside our grounds, am I correct?"
That was tricky to answer. "If someone had been there, he would have tried to be inconspicuous, staying apart perhaps, a hat and sunglasses."
Hermione pressed his hand again. He could see tears creeping down her cheeks.
"Someone like that was there."
"I am sure, he came for your sake, not necessarily for your husband's sake."
"I guessed as much. It was the last day, I could leave my house. It is a difficult situation."
"So, I gather."
"He had several strokes. In the end he could not talk. It was an ordeal. So many things to regret, and no chance to revoke anything."
Draco felt as if a cage closed around his heart. "Do you know what he would have said?"
"I can't be certain. I hoped until his last breath that he would revoke some orders, that he would unsay some of the things he said. I think that he was struggling to do this, that in the end he understood that he had done nothing but add to the misery in the world. But it was not to be. I don't know yet, if I'll ever be able to forgive him. But you should know that he tried."
Draco pressed his lips together and tried to hold back his tears. He could not give in, not yet.
"Madame, this is very sad, and I feel for you." He pressed Hermione's hand so hard that it probably hurt. He didn't think he would ever forgive his father. "How did you manage to call me?"
"The head auror gave me this little device and I worked it out. There was an instruction. I had to do some adjustments to my home as well. I fear though, that elctrity or however it is called will not last much longer. This thing has addressed me and informed me that it will switch off."
"The head auror?" Draco nearly dropped the phone.
"Harry?", Hermione whispered.
"The problem with the electricity can be managed, Madame." He hoped that her phone would not die in exactly this moment. "One of your guests will bring you a device that can solve that."
"That is wonderful. I would like to chat again, Mr Miller."
"Anytime you want, madame, anytime."
The call was disconnected. He let his hand fall on his lap. The tears came after all.
"Love," Hermione picked the phone and laid it between them. "Let's swap. I know, you hate when I drive the van, but I don't think you should drive just now."
Draco nodded, his vision blurry. Hermione unfastened her belt and rounded the van. Draco switched over to her seat. Hermione knelt on the driver's seat and looked at him.
"Oh love". Her voice was a comfort to him. She embraced him and he buried his face in her neck. His own muffled sob sounded strange in his ear. He vaguely noted that the children were uncharacteristically quiet.
Hermione's smell grounded him, and after a while he was able to disentangle himself from her. She gave him a short kiss, sat on the driver's seat, and belted herself in.
"Your mother must have worked herself ragged disabling all the anti-muggle wards at the Manor. We will ask Astoria to bring a power bank to her at the earliest opportunity. She can show her how she can charge her phone. And show her the spell how she can handle the power bank?"
Electricity and magic did not work well together, but for some reason, power banks were an exception.
Draco's thoughts were still whirling. After almost twenty years he had heard his mother's voice.
"Potter". Somehow it was easier to think about why the head auror had given a phone to his mother than dwell on what he had learned about his father's stroke, his death, and his inability to revoke the curse. "Why? Why would he give her a phone? It doesn't make any sense."
Hermione shook her head. "This might be him just doing us a favour. It might be that he thinks he is repaying a debt long overdue, or maybe he wants to be able to call in a favour, just in case."
She drove silently for a while. "Pansy has been on edge for a while now. Fidgeting. The stunt Neville and she pulled last week is just not like them. I think, we can be sure, that there is trouble ahead. If Harry is involved the stakes must be high."