Chapter 22: Keep your eyes wide open.

The brief period of hysteria within the walls of Hogwarts quickly spread to the rest of the magical world when the Parkinsons sounded the alarm: their daughter had also gone missing.

Within hours, the news spread like wildfire through Diagon Alley, the Ministry of Magic, every corner of Hogsmeade and Godric's Hollow. Panic gripped parents, who were now reluctant to let their children leave home unsupervised, while the newspapers published special editions every few hours with alarming headlines such as 'Seventh Year at Hogwarts Murdered: Castle Security Questioned", "More Students Disappear: Hogwarts Under Wizengamot Scrutiny" and "Ministry of Magic Unable to Control Situation: Families Panic."

Draco had seen his father lose control of his magic while reading and accidentally set fire to the newspaper with his own hands. Many were beginning to question his father's ability to lead the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and as a result, his father, who usually handled every problem with poise, was now on the verge of collapse. His usually reserved and restrained anger showed in every movement he made as he paced his office, uncontrollable sparks flying from his wand as he reviewed letters from the Ministry and security reports from the school, all of which criticised him and questioned his leadership.

Draco, who had rarely seen his father so out of control, felt as if his world was beginning to unravel. He knew his father would never admit a mistake, but the truth was that Daphne had been murdered and Hermione and Pansy kidnapped, and a small group led by Dumbledore and his father were responsible.

The head of the family had once banned newspapers from the manor, but Draco had found ways to smuggle them in, just as he had done with Hermione's cat.

He'd never been particularly good at smuggling cats, but he was sure Hermione would have hated him if he'd left Crookshanks behind, so he'd just grabbed the cat at Hogwarts and set it loose in his room.

Crookshanks had stretched at first, then started to wander around the room as if inspecting his new territory. Draco had placed a small litter tray, which he'd bought in a muggle shop, in a discreet corner of the room. He'd even bought some cat food and, to his surprise, some cat toys.

Draco hated cats. He hated that ugly, dishevelled, whiskered cat... but he would rather have Crookshanks destroy a few toys than the expensive curtains in his room.

"You've got everything you need," he'd told him, looking at the cat with a mixture of disbelief and resignation at suddenly having a flatmate. "Don't cause any trouble, all right?"

Crookshanks had simply hopped onto Draco's large bed and settled in as if he owned the place. Draco had sighed. He'd forgotten to buy one thing... a bed for the cat.

Great, they'd be sharing a bed too.

That morning, as he flipped through the pages of The Daily Prophet, watching his father's pale face in the headlines demanding answers and blaming the board, Draco pulled an orange hair from his mouth with a grimace of disgust.

"Ugh. How did your hair get in my mouth?" he muttered, giving the cat a disapproving look. Crookshanks glared at him as if his presence was equally offensive. "Stupid furball."

He turned back to the paper with a frustrated sigh. One of the pictures had the search parties on the front page: dozens of people scattered across fields and woods, their eyes sharp and wands raised, searching every corner of the magical world for the missing girls. Draco watched until he recognised a familiar figure in one of the pictures: Harry Potter, leading one of the search patrols, with a look on his face Draco had never seen before... well, ever. It was a mixture of despair and exhaustion, with a deeply furrowed brow and dark, tired eyes.

Potter was unmistakable, even in such a small picture. Although Draco hated him for many reasons, he felt something like empathy at that moment. It was the same desperation he'd felt, though he'd worked hard to hide it.

Draco knew they wouldn't find them.

Someone had them, and if the criminal continued his pattern, they would only be found when he decided to get rid of them.

He shook his head.

It wasn't going to happen.

He had spent days relentlessly searching for any clue that might reveal what had happened to Hermione and Pansy... He'd checked with the Ministry about Beatrice Brown and they'd confirmed what his mother had said: Mrs Brown had never worked for the Ministry. He had tried to contact her by letter, but his owl always returned with the same message. He had also tried to find out where she lived, but apparently no-one knew her, or only vaguely remembered her.

An idea began to form in his mind as he continued to stare at the photo with Potter. Something in his expression made it clear that he wasn't going to sit idly by either.

He made his final decision that very afternoon. Tired of the few clues that led nowhere, Draco knew he had to act soon, and that action would inevitably involve Harry Potter.

After a brief and quick exchange of letters, Draco appeared on the Muggle train platform where Potter had agreed to meet him. The station was almost empty, and the dim lights cast the place in a strange half-light. Though his own anguish gnawed at him from within, Draco kept his face cold and calculating - a mask he'd perfected over the years to hide his emotions. But he couldn't ignore the fact that Potter seemed on the verge of breaking down at any moment. His dark circles and slumped posture reflected a mixture of despair and exhaustion Draco had never seen before. Potter was affected and it was clear that the situation was pushing him to the limit.

The Gryffindor didn't even look at him when he arrived; he just stood there, staring into an unseen distance as if trapped in a dark memory.

"Any news?" Draco finally asked, breaking the silence and trying to sound neutral.

Harry shook his head slightly, then fell silent again. The desperation emanating from him was palpable and Draco felt an involuntary shudder. He'd never seen him like this before, but he couldn't let sympathy or any other emotion distract him; they had to act quickly and every bit of information was crucial.

"Listen, Potter," he said firmly, adopting a tone of authority, "I know you want to find them as much as I do, but you're not going to get there by searching cornfields or looking in every corner of Hogsmeade. I know... something. I have a lead, but you have to help me talk to Longbottom."

Harry seemed to come out of his trance. He looked up, blinking as if trying to process Draco's words.

"With Neville? Why?" he asked in a tired voice.

"Because Neville is friends with Hannah Abbott. And Hannah is... Beatrice Brown's daughter," Draco explained, choosing his words carefully as he looked seriously at Potter, who returned an incredulous look. "I know this woman has information about what's going on, but I can't reach her."

"Wait, how do you even know Hannah's mother's name?" Harry asked, confused. "She's not part of any notable family or known. She's a Muggle-born who keeps a low profile. I've never even seen you talking to Hannah. What's going on?"

"Just tell me where I can find Longbottom. I don't plan on telling the same story twice, so you'll hear it with him."

Harry glanced around to make sure they were alone, then grabbed Draco's elbow and they Apparated in front of Longbottom's residence - a large, old house on a hill with a garden full of exotic and magical plants that Neville and his grandmother tended. The plants seemed to have been carefully tended for generations. Harry stepped forward and knocked on the door, giving Draco a suspicious look. Draco barely noticed the look; he was focused on his own thoughts and the hope that Longbottom would be willing to listen - and more importantly, to help.

The door slowly opened and Neville appeared in the doorway, looking at them both with surprise and perhaps a hint of unease.

"Harry... Malfoy... what are you doing here?" he asked, clearly confused to see the two of them together.

"We need to talk to you, Neville," Harry said seriously, getting straight to the point. "It's about Hermione... and Pansy Parkinson."

The mention of Hermione made Neville straighten up, his expression becoming serious, and after a moment's hesitation he let them into the house.

"All right," he said as he led them into the living room. "But you'd better hurry. My grandmother isn't happy with everything that's happened lately... with what happened to me... and she doesn't want me to have any visitors, at least for now. You'll have to leave before she gets back from shopping."

The boys sat down and Draco was the first to speak.

"Longbottom, we know you're friends with Hannah Abbott, and... we have reason to believe that her mother, Beatrice Brown, is somehow connected to the disappearances."

Neville frowned in confusion.

"Mrs Brown? But... how? I don't understand why someone like her would be involved in... all of this."

Draco and Harry exchanged a look before Draco continued.

"Beatrice Brown put a curse on me," he finally confessed. "A curse I couldn't hide from Hermione during the week of detention we spent separated."

Longbottom frowned slightly. He clearly hadn't overlooked the fact that he had started calling Hermione by her first name.

"What kind of curse? And why?"

Salazar knew that only one of these questions would be answered. He had no intention of going into detail with either of them. No way.

"The reason she gave me was that it was revenge against my father for getting her fired from the Ministry... but later I found out she never even worked at the Ministry. When Hermione found out what was happening to me, she contacted her to try and help, and Brown told her the same thing, adding that her revenge was also against me for bullying her daughter at Hogwarts."

"Hannah?" Longbottom interrupted. "She never mentioned that."

"-Because it never happened. I never bullied her. I can't even remember what her face looks like, or if she's blonde or brunette. I just... never noticed her, for better or worse."

"Why would Mrs Brown lie about something like that?" asked Potter, confused.

"I don't know, but I want to find out. Because I'm convinced it has something to do with Hermione's disappearance..."

"What does the curse she put on you have to do with Hermione's disappearance?" Longbottom wanted to know.

"-Hermione, like I said, wanted to help me get rid of the curse..." Draco paused for a moment to catch his breath and organise his thoughts. It was hard to think when all he wanted to do was kill whoever had taken Hermione. "She eventually managed to do so, even though it meant putting herself at physical and emotional risk, and she disappeared immediately afterwards."

"I don't understand..."

"Well, you'd better get used to it, because I'm not giving you any more details," Draco snapped, tired of having to explain himself to these two idiots.

"And where does Pansy come into all this?" Potter asked.

Longbottom frowned again.

"She... I don't know. Daphne... she knew about my curse, but Pansy didn't. But maybe there's something we're missing." He turned to Longbottom. "Did you know it was Hermione who saved you from whatever Astoria did to you? She was the only one who cared about your disappearance and did something about it. Astoria is not someone to be taken lightly, but she didn't care about risking harm to herself to save you because it was the right thing to do. Do the right thing, Longbottom. Do it for her," he said solemnly. "Take me to Beatrice Brown."

"Focus on my voice, Pansy. No, don't close your eyes. Stay with me, OK? I know you're tired, but you must be strong. Don't give up yet."

Hermione did her best to keep Pansy awake, but it was hard when she had lost so much blood. When she was still losing blood.

She was being drained.

And despite the man's best efforts to feed and water her to keep her alive, it was clear to Hermione that Pansy didn't have much strength left.

"If all you want is her blood, give her body time to regenerate!" she shouted at him as she saw him enter the dark room for the third time in as many hours.

The man who Pansy had told her days before was called John Abbott (Hannah's father?!) had looked at her disapprovingly at the tone she had used to address him, but he turned and left.

A small victory that meant little when Pansy looked so... dead.

She had been hanged for some time, but the man had only lowered her when her face began to turn an alarming shade of blue and her lips and eyes began to swell. After that, he had simply left her in a corner. She could barely move. She had become a rag doll whose words were incoherent and disjointed.

Her brain wasn't working properly due to the lack of blood in her body.

Drops of Hermione's own blood stained the floor beneath her, from when that horrible man had slowly drained her, only to inject her with Pansy's.

"To make you pure and worthy of the divine being growing within you," he had told her.