Chapter 2
The next morning, Draco woke up hours earlier than Hermione. Usually, she was the first one up and out of bed before he could convince her to stay and cuddle up with him. He equated her sleeping in to the fact that she suffered a head injury yesterday.
Her avoidant behaviour last night set off a warning alarm in his head. He had sent her letters while he and Potter had been out of town, and while he was detailed and long-winded, she was short and unexpressive. He did not think much of it at the time; he knew she was struggling with the muggle-born women being murdered. When he came home to find out she had been brought to the hospital, his whole world dropped out from under him.
He wanted to curse himself for not pushing her and allowing her to reposed to him like he was a penpal and not her boyfriend.
He knew the muggle-born murders were weighing heavily on her mind, but her mention of Astoria last night and her comments around not being a 'pureblood princess' nagged at him.
Hermione always seemed overly secure in herself, and in them, their relationship was solid. However, last night he watched her falter, questioning how much he wanted her, and he did not like it in the slightest. He did not think he had done anything in the last month or even before that to warrant her lack of faith in them. Maybe it was nothing, and it was this string of murders getting to her, but Draco was too Slytherin to believe that.
Seated back against the headboard, Draco took in his beautiful witch. She was perfect, and in the couple of years since the war, she had been the only thing he had allowed himself to want. He was in love with her and the only thing that mattered to him was her, which was scary for someone who had never known this intense a love.
Hermione loved many people, her friends and her family. She loved fiercely, and it could sometimes consume her; she had her brains to even out her heart. As she lay peaceful, keeping the blankets warm, he felt fear rise up in his chest at the thought of her not being there. Incomprehensible.
Her little forehead was the first to move, signalling to him that she was awake. It was almost ten in the morning now, the sun shining brightly under their black-out curtains. Her forehead pulled together, and her hand nearest him on the bed twitched. Her breath hitched, and her lips slipped into a pout.
He waited patiently for her to come alive, letting her take her time to stretch, and her eyes adjust to the dark room.
"Good morning." He whispered softly to announce his presence.
"Head hurts," She grumbled into her pillow. "Time is it?"
"I can have Poppy bring up a late breakfast and a pain potion. Maybe we should set you up a check-in at the hospital if your head is still aching."
Hermione rubbed her eyes, "It's just a headache. It'll go away in a day or two. Wait, did you say late breakfast? What time is it?"
Draco softened his voice wearily of her headache. "Just after ten in the morning."
Hermione sat up and scrambled out from under the comforter, stumbling only to catch herself with the wall instead of falling. She was making her way around the bed when Draco recovered from the shock of her movements; dismounting the mattress, he reached out for her, stepping into her way.
"Was a fire set to your side of the bed just now? Slow down and get back into bed. The way you are stumbling around like a drunken wizard, you could use the extra rest; your head is still healing."
"I was supposed to be to the Ministry by eight, so I could work out my pitch to Kingsley before the rest of the staff got in."
Draco remembered her saying something to that effect outside last night. He had not thought she planned to do it at the crack of dawn after her stint in the hospital.
"Kingsley isn't expecting you today, and if it will make you feel better, I can send him a fire message to let him know you won't be in today."
Hermione rubbed her forehead to try and relieve the pressure in her skull. "No, I need to go in and surrender my memories so I can go threw questioning, they have Ron's, but they'll need mine to compliment his. I also have research they will need; Greyback would have moved as soon as we left last night. We have to go and recover that girl's body and find him before he had the chance to kill again."
"You can't do that if you can't even get out of bed without stumbling."
Hermione stared at him, "I woke up then hopped out of bed; you would stumble too. I'm fine; I need to shower."
"Hermione." He said helplessly. "We need to talk."
They left things too open-ended last night, and it made him nervous. They were not necessarily in a fight, but the air around them felt awkward. They were on opposite ends of an issue, and they had many small fights along the way but not about something serious like this."
"Poppy!"
"Draco, no."
"Yes, Sir?" The small elf appeared beside them. "Miss Hermione is looking a lot better; Poppy is happy. Would Miss like some breakfast?"
Hermione knelt down, "No, thank you, I'm not hungry."
Poppy looked upset. "Miss Hermione was injured; she should eat breakfast."
"I agree, Poppy, could you prepare a tray of fruits."
The elf smiled. "Poppy will be right back, Sir."
"Draco, seriously? What am I going to do now, I can't not eat it."
Hermione knew now if she showered and left Poppy would be upset. Poppy got very attached to Hermione when she moved in a couple of months ago, and she had wanted to serve her ever since. Despite how much Hermione tried to tell her, it was not necessary.
He looked over to the couch under the big covered window; with a flick of his fingers, the curtain opened.
"You're going to come sit on the love seat and have some breakfast while you and I talk."
A loud breath left Hermione's nose; she rolled her tongue around in her mouth for a silent ten seconds before turning and walking toward the seat. Draco followed her, his footfalls a lot lighter as he didn't stomp across the room as she did.
Hermione sat with her back to the armrest, pulling her knees to her chest. Her head pounded, and her rising blood pressure only made it worse. Getting back up from her seat, she walked over to her bedside table, pulling out a bottle of Tylenol 3s. She had gotten them when she broke her arm and had almost half the bottle left; having returned to school after Christmas break, madame pumfry healed her up in no time.
She thought about throwing out the medicine but thought it best to keep it for a rainy day. Pulling two tablets out, she broke one in half, letting the other half fall back into the bottle. She wanted her headache to go away, not to be stoned for the rest of her morning.
Draco watched her in silence, grey eyes tracking her as she completed her task. She came back and sat across from him, her curls a mess from her tossing and turning. She was wearing one of her PJ inventions, a small pair of exercise shorts and a big sweatshirt. While the idea of muggle women dressing skimpy was a beautiful invention, he did not much like it when Hermione wore these clothes out of their home.
Witches were a lot more modest and private with their clothes as opposed to showing off a lot of skin. It was almost disrespectful in their culture, but the day Draco travelled to Australia with Hermione, he was scandalized to see the lack of clothes on any person. Male or female.
Hermione played with the small silver ring on her pointer finger, eyes lazying looking at his lap. Draco watched her. Clearly, he was going to have to jump-start their conversation. He also tried to take into account her headache and the fact that she had just woken up moments ago. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes.
Poppy showed upsetting a fruit and biscuit platter on the small circular table in front of the love seat.
Draco thanked her, watching as the small creature placed her hand on Hermione's before leaving them to themselves. Hermione did not even acknowledge the platter, continuing to play with her ring. She had told him it belonged to her grandmother; when Hermione had gone away to Hogwarts, her grandmother passed and left her the ring.
"The bruising is nearly faded. How's your head feeling?" He reached out and ran his thumb lightly over her forehead.
"It's just a headache; the double vision, dizziness and light sensitivity are mainly gone."
Draco's eyes widened; clearly, the Dr at St Mungos had not run through her list of symptoms with him yesterday. He shook his head, lowering his hand back into his lap.
"I don't know what this weirdness is that's now between us. It seems to be about more than just this murder case. Usually, you are the one forcing me to talk, and now it's the other way around. Where is your head at?"
Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine."
"Darling, you are not fine." The endearment softened the contradiction slightly. "Talk to me."
Hermione met his eyes, "Girls are dying, and I'm sitting here when I should be at the Ministry. I've been wasting my time with magical creatures when I should have just taken the damn treatment after graduation and become an Auror like Harry and Ron. Maybe then this wouldn't be happening; I wasted a year at school while those two were training and getting their badges. After I graduated, I took a ministry job, and I have not gotten anywhere. I haven't made a difference!"
Okay, what the hell? Draco sat up, hands out in front of himself to stop her. "Hey. Werewolfs and Centaurs have a hell of a lot more rights and protective legislation than they did two years ago. That is a really big accomplishment, Hermione. School has always been important to you, and despite missing a year, you went back when most of our year didn't, and you still graduated top of your class."
"It doesn't matter that Voldemort's gone. These people are never going to change. We won a war, and what did it do, really? Nothing, there isn't anything different."
"I'd argue to the contrary what you all did made a world of difference. You are still making a difference, helping those who need it and making sure they get a fair shot. I'm sure your efforts mean the world to them."
Hermione bit her lip, looking around the room. "I just can't let another girl be tortured and killed by that monster."
Draco grabbed her hand, "A lot of people are working on this. Potter and Weasley brought in dozens of death eaters and Sympathizers over the last two years; I'm sure they'll get him."
Nodding, Hermione looked toward the door of their bathroom. "I'm going to go get ready now."
While they had not really talked through anything, Draco nodded and gave her a small smile. She had just unloaded a mess of feelings, and he wanted to give both of them a minute to digest everything.
Potter had given him some insight into where Hermione's thoughts could be at. She was blaming herself, which to him made no sense. Greyback was killing girls, and that was on him; the creature had been doing that long since before he met Hermione. Now that he wanted his claws on Hermione, he was trying to draw her out by attacking girls who resembled her.
The fact that she thought all her hard work the last two years meant nothing, really got at him. She had worked tirelessly to get approvals for so many new laws and protection for people like Lupin, who had been overlooked since the beginning of the Wizarding World. How could she think that did not matter or was any less important than other departments' work.
Knowing Hermione would want to go directly to the ministry once she was cleaned up, Draco cast a cleaning spell on himself and went to the closet to get dressed.
.
"Hermione." Ron was the first face they saw when they stepped off the elevator. "Bloody hell, you're a sight."
She hugged him back, muttering her thanks for getting her to safety yesterday. He hung onto her kissing her cheek as they pulled away from each other.
"Mione." Harry shook his head. "You could have stayed one day out of the office; Ron's deposition is enough to get by for now."
"I'm good to go. Are there any plans to go after him yet? Did you guys go check his known hideouts?"
"We are sending out teams this afternoon."
"No. No no. Why did you not send someone out last night after Ron got back? He's going to kill again, Harry, he knows that we are coming for him. God, we need to go now." Her volume increased with each word, her arms flailing around.
"Hermione." Harry reached for her, but she was quick to step back.
"Where is Kingsley?" Without waiting for an answer, Hermione started toward his office, the three wizards trying to catch up behind her.
The black man turned as she barged into his office, "I am so glad to say you are looking better than Ron's memories depicted."
"How many teams have you assembled, and who's on them?"
Kingsley's gaze met three pairs of eyes over her head. "Hermione, you don't need to worry yourself with this. The aurors have got this all handled."
"You should have sent them out last night, not waited an entire day, giving Greyback enough time to go underground. Do you want more muggles to die? Do you even care about them?"
Kingsley looked like she had just cursed him. "Hermione, have a seat."
She shook her head. "Why does everyone keep trying to make me sit down. Every second we waste is another second he has free."
"Miss Granger, I think it would be best if you took the day off." He sighed and tried to appeal to her. "I know you're upset, Hermione, but we will catch him. Last night you and Mr. Weasley broke the law, and you put yourself in danger. It is very obvious to us now that the suspect is targeting women who resemble you in hopes of getting to you. You fed yourself up to him last night on a silver platter. I am placing you under protective custody until he is apprehended."
"Sir."
Kingsley shook his head. "I have already drafted the paperwork."
Draco stepped, placing his hand on Hermione's back. "All due respect, Sir, our home has more wards on it than the Orders safe houses. Hermione will be safe there and more comfortable being in her own space."
Agreeing with the young Malfoy's words, Kingsley agreed to adjust the paperwork to those specifications. Hermione was to be placed under protective custody at her own home, however, if she needed to venture outside of the house. Auror Zabini would go with her if Draco himself could not. Harry also added his name to the list.
"Now, I suggest you head home, Miss Granger, so that we can start working on apprehending a murderer. Which I assure you, my dear, is my only priority."
Everyone could tell she was seething she was not doing a good job hiding it. With a final pointed look at everyone around the room, she made her way back toward the elevators. She still had a plan to flush out, if Kingsley had no leads in two days' time, she would be back, and she would be listened to.
"She clearly needs some more time to wrap her brain around this," Kingsley told the men. "Draco, son, stay with her today, and when she is ready, bring her back in for questioning. Hermione is a brilliant young lady. Hopefully, we will have some evidence to show her next time she comes in. Or better yet, we will have caught him."
"Yes, sir." Draco left the office quickly, running to catch up with his girlfriend.
.
Draco half expected to find their home empty but was relieved when he learned otherwise. Hermione was in their room under the covers with a hand towel over her eyes. The blanket came up under her chin, and he could only see her mouth, which was set in a straight line.
"Hermione."
"Shh."
He blinked at her, "What are you doing?"
Poppy appeared on the bed next to her, a black hand towel in her grasp. Hermione picked up the one on her face and exchanged it for the one in the elf's hands. She muttered a quick thank you; Poppy patted her on the hand before disappearing with the old cloth.
"I have a migraine, and I would really like for it to not get worse." She muttered; her voice was low and hard to make out.
"I'll have Poppy-"
"I don't need any potions; what I need is to relax long enough to lessen the pain so I can fall asleep."
Draco knew she was doing this to spite him, all of them. She was mad, and he got it; she was not used to being left out of the action. So he would leave her be, for now, let her get her rest because he did know her head had been ailing her earlier. They still have more things to talk about, having not gotten to them that morning. For now, he would head to his study and get some work done.
"I'll be in my study; send Poppy if you need me."
She had not sent for him; he had stayed in his study for most of the afternoon. Every time he heard a creek or movement, he had hoped it would be her coming to talk with him. Usually, it was just Poppy with an update or a cup of tea.
He took the time to think about their talk, fight? they had during the previous night.
"If you wanted some pureblood princess, what the hell did you even start dating me for!"
"Look, if you're not happy being with me, you're going to have to say so."
She had yelled both statements at him. Draco was having a hard time deciding if she said those things to anger to get a rise from him or if she actually felt them. She sure seemed to feel them with the way she hurled the words at him. She was mad about being caught off guard and embarrassed about ending up at the hospital. She was probably mainly pissed that she and Weasley had gotten caught. The maddening witch gave no care for her own life.
Hermione had probably hoped to be there and back without tipping anyone off, and then she ended up getting hurt.
Regardless of if he thought she really meant those things, he was going to talk to her about it. Make sure she knew his heart lay with her, and it would always be hers. He had never wanted anyone until her. Sure he had at one time wanted his father's approval; he wanted his mother to be safe and alive. Hermione, was something else, like she was made to fit with him.
"Sir."
"Yes, Poppy?"
The elf looked down, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Miss Hermione has left the house."
He snapped to his feet; he had been so lost in his thoughts he had not felt the wards shift as she left.
"Where did she go?"
"She left Sir a note. Poppy found it on her side of the bed." She held up the paper to him.
Going to Hagrid's, don't wait up.
Draco rolled his neck. She would be on Hogwart grounds; she would be fine. He repeated that sentiment over and over in hopes that it would put him at ease.
Well, he might as well take the hint she was very clearly conveying to him and bugger off. At least if he was at the Ministry, he could feel like he was doing something, helping the case along.
.
"It's been a long time."
Even though there was a barrier charm between them, Hermione felt she could still smell his teeth rotting from his head.
"I've been busy."
He sneered, eyes raking over what he could see of her.
Hermione kept her gaze steady, staring into the eyes of Scabior. She had last seen him during the trials; his was a short one. He was one of the snatchers who had gone money crazy and had brought them to Malfoy manor that night. He had also been close to Greyback, or so it seemed at the time.
"I'm not here for chit-chat; I'm here to ask you about an old friend. I'm hoping for the right price you could give me some information."
"I don't have much use for money in here."
"No, but your mother does. 2842 Cherrybrook lane, right?" His sneer faltered. "I could provide her more than enough money to live comfortably and afford the medicine she needs."
The imprisoned snatcher rolled his jaw as he thought over her offer. "Who you looking to know more about?"
"Freirk Greyback." and he was smiling again.
"Oh, he obsessed over you; what are you looking to know about him."
"Everything."
It seemed the digesting bastard did have a heart; he gave her an hour and a half's worth of information. When he had run out of things to say, she stood and told him his mother would have the money in her accounts by the following morning and she' would make sure she got in to see a doctor to check on her illness.
With a notebook full of intel in hand, way more than she had had a couple of days prior, she headed for Kingsley's office. She nearly tripped over her own two feet when she spotted Draco at the other end of the hall. His grey eyes snapped up to her.
Quickly getting her wits about her, Hermione continued to Kingsley's office.
"Hermione." Kingsley gave her a sad smile. "I don't know what I thought you would stay at home for more than half a day, Mr. Malfoy."
"Sir," Draco said from behind her, voice hard.
"Well, come sit down, tell me what you've found."
Draco followed closely behind Hermione; she could feel the stiffness coming from him.
Hermione looked at Draco, knowing she was about to get caught in a lie, but she had already come this far.
"I went to see Scabior; he worked as one of the snatchers during the war."
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Draco's fists ball up on the armrest. Kingsley nodded at her; he remembered his trial.
"He was close with Greyback, and I knew his mother had been sick and needed medicine. I took a chance that her illness is terminal. I offered to pay for her medical treatment and provide her with a caretaker if he gave me all the information he had on Greyback." She handed him her full notebook. "Here is a list of location, habits and everything else he was able to tell me."
Accepting the notebook, Kingsley opened it up. She laid an envelope on his desk, "Here is everything I had researched and found out earlier this week. I think some of the information complements each other; it's how I knew his information was valid and worth sharing."
"I will recall two of our teams and get them started on this new information. We do have a couple of leads we are running; I don't want to pull everyone off the streets."
Hermione nodded, "I want to be a part of one of the teams, I already looked into her schedule, and the evaluator is free this evening."
Kingsley placed the new information on his desk. "That is wonderful. However, no matter if you are cleared or not, I can not allow your involvement in this case."
"I don't understand why. You have seen my skills in the field. You know I am a valuable asset."
"It has become increasingly clear that you are Greyback's target. You know that is why we can not have you in the field; it is not safe where you are concerned."
"Then use me as bait to draw him out.-"
Draco sat up tall, "Absolutely not."
"-You know he'll come if he thinks he has a shot at me; he is not much for forward-thinking."
"I have to agree with Mr. Malfoy on this one, dear. Go home and enjoy the fact that you have a couple of days off because of your accident. If you are feeling well enough to work, which it seems you are. Go work in your department; I know Glaydice and Simon are simply lost without you."
"Have a good day, Sir." Dismissing herself, Hermione walked out of the room without looking back.
Draco was right behind her, taking her by the elbow and pulling her into his office, silencing the room.
"Having a visit with Hagrid, were you? I didn't know he now worked as a ministry jailer." Hermione rolled her eyes. "How many times do you have to be told to stay away from this case?"
"I can help! Kingsley is locking me out for no good reason."
Pale eyebrows shot up a pale forehead. "No good reason. If Greyback gets a chance at you, he'll do worse than what he's done to those girls, Hermione. There's a reason."
Hermione ground her jaw, feeling useless and at her wit's end. They did not want her to help? Fine!
"Where are you going?" Draco asked as she made to exit his office.
"Back to my department. I will not hide away at home like someone who is helpless; I have an actual paying job to do."
Instead of a slam like he had expected, the latch on his door clicked softly. Draco dropped his head into his hands; these next days, weeks. However long it took them to catch Greyback, they were going to be long ones.
.
When Hermione was done work for the day she went to the floor where the curse breakers department was. More importantly, it was where the office of Blaise Zambini was located.
"Hey." He smiled at her.
"I need to go out, and I need an escort."
He looked her over. "I think Draco's upstairs; I saw him this afternoon."
"I know." She waiting. "You are also on the list of suitable escorts."
Blaise licked his lips, dropping his gaze to his desk. "That I am, and I can finish the rest of this stuff tomorrow."
"Great, let's go."
"Where to?" He asked once they reached the floo in the main lobby.
"Home."
Hermione took his hand and pulled him into the fireplace with her, thinking of her childhood home. They landed on the dimly lit street, the house in front of her dark with no cars out front.
"You and Malfoy thinking of moving?"
"I grew up here. I thought after the war; I could bring my parents back and set everything right. When I found them too much time had passed, I tried to make friends with them. To see them look back at me with no recognition was too hard. I've been meaning to put this house up for sale for years now, but I could not bring myself to do it. Greyback's first kill was here."
Blaise snapped his eyes to Hermione.
"He took her on my bed and made it messy. Instead of leaving her here for me to find, he dropped her in a park nearby; I never told anyone that he'd actually done it here." Hermione spoke in a level voice. "This place hasn't felt like home since. It was silly for me to keep it this long, like some childish hope that maybe things would go back to how they should be. As if the war hadn't happened. That was pretend, a fantasy that I have wasted too much time on."
"I think it's a lovely thought, and you should keep this house for as long as you would like."
Hermione snorted. "All this place is is a black hole."
Wand in hand, she sparked a fire, and it consumed the inside of the house in seconds. She placed a shield around the outside of the home to keep the flames contained and protect the neighbouring houses.
"Hermione!"
She paid him no mind, watching as the home burned bright. After fifteen minutes, the flames died down, and the house went dark. She held her hand out for Blaise to take.
"I have a couple more errands to run."
Speechless, he accepted her hand, letting her take him away with a wave of her wand. These errands were a lot tamer than Blaise had been expecting after Hermione had lit her childhood home of fire.
She went to a couple of muggle stores and then ended the day off by picking up a couple of potion ingredients in Diagon. Blaise tried to start little conversations, but Hermione was set on this being a quiet venture, only answering him in small smiles or quick sentences.
"How is the case coming?"
Hermione shifted the bags on her arms, refusing to let Blaise carry a single one. "Ask Draco."
Blaise looked around. "I don't see him around anywhere. That's why I'm asking you."
"Innocent girls are continuing to die, Blaise; how do you think it's going?" He frowned at her.
Blaise had not yet had a chance to talk with Draco since Hermione's attack yesterday. He had seen him and Harry return to the ministry to finish their paperwork after Hermione had gone home. His friend had been vibrating with anger, and his skin was paler than usual. While Draco had put on a calmer front while in the debrief, Blaise knew him too well to be fooled.
Draco was seething, and he could understand why. Draco had explained it to him once during one of their rare heart to hearts. Draco got everything he had wanted from a young age; he was a spoiled ass. Anyone in the wizarding world knew that. Until Voldemort came in and shook up everything, they had been taught as children. Turning his back on his father, Draco's one prayer was for his mother to make it out of the war alive.
Then there came Hermione. She had always fascinated and infuriated Draco during their younger school years. After the war, despite everything, she had been the one to be kind to them, despite what they and their families had done. She was understanding and compassionate. And he fell hard for her. The war had taught Draco how quickly something he loved could be erased from the world.
So when they started dating, Draco put everything into their relationship. he had always been a possessive bastard, but it was funny to see that translate into a relationship with Hermione. The witch was beautiful, bold, and so independent. Draco ran along at her heels, just praying she would keep him around because he knew she could do better.
He had only loved her outside of a war.
Hermione had been in danger for years before that, and Draco would roll his eyes and complain how Gryffindors get away with everything. Never once did he worry for her life. Then the war came, and he fought for his mother. Then there was peace. Draco had only ever loved Hermione during peace times when things were copasetic. Now they weren't, and Hermione was living up to her war heroine title.
She was not safe inside an office working day after day; now, she was a target. Hence why, his presence was necessary today. Blaise knew it irked her to come and ask him to escort her; it was clear as day on her face and in her body language. It was clear she wanted to be involved, but he knew Kingsley would not be allowed to hire a targeted untrained witch into the manhunt.
Which no doubt pissed her off. He can only imagine how well his friend was dealing with all this.
As they side long appeared into her home, A louder snap was audible as Draco joined them.
"Where were-" His eyes locked on his childhood friend. "Blaise."
"Had to run some errands. Since you were busy, I asked him." She threw her thumb over her shoulder.
Draco looked her over, "I wasn't busy."
She looked away from his gaze, "Thanks for the escort Zambinie; i'm sure I'll be requesting your services again soon."
Draco closed his eyes, counting to ten in his head, while Hermione took her arms full of bags and left them alone.
"I'm sorry, man, I figured she told you she was going out. I would have sent you a fire message otherwise."
"She-she hasn't been talking to me much lately." Blaise looked him over, accepting his silent gesture to take a seat. "I think this case is a big part of it, but I think it's something else as well."
"Have you asked her about it?" Draco narrowed his eyes at him.
"She entertained my questioning once; every time since I've tried to talk with her, she leaves or avoids the topic."
Blaise bit her lip, wondering if he should tell Draco what they'd done today.
"So Hermione's first stop today was to her childhood home." Draco froze. "She burnt it to the ground."
"Holy hell." He looked out the door she had walked through moments earlier. "I'm concerned, Blaise. She's not acting like herself."
"Maybe it really is the case. He's killing muggles, man, not even muggle-borns. It has to be triggering her PTSD from the war, among other things. Be there, even if it's to just sit in silence and be with her. Granger's smart man, she'll work through this."
"Did she say anything? After she set the fire."
"She told me Greyback killed his first victim there. Apparently, he left a mess behind for her to find in her bedroom. He must have been watching her for a while if he knew she was making visits to her old house."
Draco nodded. "She never told me that. I didn't even know she visited that house."
"She's grieving, man. Did she ever even get the chance after the war? The rest of us were locked away or recovering at home with our families. She and the other two were thrown into the press and forced to smile and talk about hope and the future. Maybe this case is forcing her to face everything she's repressed.
"It's a possibility."
"Look, I know it's not in your nature to sit back and let things happen however they are going to happen. I think we all have a lot of trauma, and the way she's behaving right now is playing right into your biggest fears. Kingsley, by law, isn't allowed to let her help with this case; let that information be your saving grace."
Draco ran his thumb along his pointer fingers. "That doesn't mean she won't act out on her own."
"She might do just that. In the meantime, try and remember that she is hurting. She's acting differently than the Hermione we've both gotten to know, but this is pretty similar to the Granger we both use to roll our eyes at back at Hogwarts."
"That's what terrifies me."
