The Solved Case
Ginny must’ve heard the door slam as Hermione walked in, shouting for her from the kitchen. She was still fuming after apparating home from the Leaky, stomping into the kitchen and dropping into a chair across from Harry as they fed the kids.
Ginny and Harry smirked at each other across the table, “That was a short date,” she commented, motioning to James to eat his carrots while Harry spooned mash into the baby’s mouth.
She huffed, grabbing an extra plate, spooning portions of the left-over dinner to substitute for her missed meal, “I don’t want to talk about it,” Ginger eyebrows flew up, as she angrily stabbed her vegetables.
“Wow, short and he didn’t even feed you,” She chuckled, “I thought Roberts had the whole romance thing down,”
“Roberts?” Harry looked over, “That’s who your date was with?”
Hermione rolled her eyes, she knew where this was going.
“Merlin, Hermione,” He shook his head, “I knew you had bad taste in men, but I didn’t think you’d go that far,”
She groaned through a bite of chicken, “He’s a decent guy, Harry, really, you shouldn’t be so judgmental,”
Harry laughed, “Decent for sure, at least when the wanker’s not trying to bang everything with two legs,” Ginny’s laughter joined in as Hermione threw her a glare.
“Besides, I assumed you finally caved and started talking to Malfoy,” She nearly dropped her fork, choking on her chicken as the words left Harry’s mouth.
“What? Why would you think that??” A horrified look snapped to Ginny, where the redhead shrugged back.
He watched Ginny’s shrug, confusion turning back to her as he kept spooning little Lily food, “Prophet’s been talking about it a lot recently—Am I missing something?”
She froze, “No -- nothing,” Harry looked between the two women, eyebrow arched in confusion. His sixth sense was what made him a good Auror but made it impossible to keep anything hidden for long.
Ginny cleared her throat, trying to avoid her husband’s stare “So what happened on your date?”
“Nothing,” She huffed, “Must’ve missed him,”
Harry looked skeptical, “Roberts stood you up?”
Hermione filled her mouth with food, nodding.
“Doesn’t really sound like Roberts,” his pointed glance turned to Ginny, who quickly turned back to James.
“It looks like the kids are done, Harry do you mind taking care of bedtime?” she plastered a smile onto her face as Harry huffed, knowing he wouldn’t say ‘no’ after being gone for most the quidditch season. He threw a suspicious glare at Ginny before picking up Lily and leaving to take them to bed.
The door shutting upstairs echoed through the house before Ginny turned on her, “Spill,”
She sighed, dropping her fork before trying to rub the exhaustion from her eyes, “Malfoy showed up,” the ginger’s eyes widened, “A few minutes after I got there, he must’ve been told where I was by his stupid cadre of stalkers,”
“S-stalkers?” Ginny was flummoxed, “Hermione, this is getting out of hand,”
“He calls them guards, they showed up after Dawlish’s attack,” she rolled her eyes, finally pushing her plate of food away, “He and Theo Nott, remember him?”
“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” Ginny sighed.
“Yeah, well, they literally dumped Roberts from his chair and took over our table,” Hermione fell back against her chair, crossing her arms, “Malfoy pulled out his stupid contract in front of Roberts, told him we were engaged,”
Ginny stopped on her way to the sink, spinning around to face her, dishes in hand, “Contract?”
Hermione’s brows furrowed seeing the reaction, “I told you he gave me a betrothal contract to sign, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t,” She deadpanned, dropping the plates on the sink before rushing back towards her, “Do you have it? I need to read it,”
“N-No, I think I left—” Hermione dug around in her jacket pockets, pulling out the letter before her fingers ran into another piece of parchment. Her confused gaze studied the document as she unfolded it.
I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, attest to the commitment to pursue and enter into a soul binding with Hermione Jean Granger. Regardless of outstanding circumstances or prior agreements—
Betrothal commences with the contract served and shall culminate in vows as of December 12th, 2008, with co-habitation beginning upon signing, unless cohabitation has already been established.
She scanned through the changed contract, the words glowing in red as Ginny read over her shoulder.
“Hermione,” her voice quiet from over her shoulder, “This is bad,”
Vows exchanged will be blood bonding, as traditional with Malfoy family, and progeny are expected, unless outstanding circumstances permit, within the first year of the rite performed.
Ginny’s whispered words grew louder in her ear, “This is very, very bad,”
Draco Lucius Malfoy attests to refusal of fertility testing prior to bonding. Hermione felt a chill run down her spine.
By signing this contract, you hereby waive your right to any divorce or separation proceedings after the bonding right is performed, as is customary within Malfoy marriages.
Ginny’s eyes met hers as she snatched the contract out of Hermione’s hands, “Shit, Hermione, do you have any idea what this means?”
She glared back at her friend, “That Malfoy is a controlling prick who thinks he can just insert himself into my life with a piece of paper?”
Ginny groaned, rubbing her hands over her face, “Hermione, when a betrothal contract, signed or not, is introduced, you are engaged in the eyes of the law,”
She felt her mouth drop open, “T-That can’t be right! I haven’t signed anything, I haven’t—“ she stopped short, she had led him on, even if not by words.
The redhead shook her head, “It doesn’t matter,” she groaned, “It’s rooted in pure-blood traditions where the betrothal contract is generally introduced between parents after negotiations are done to prevent any independent arrangements between the two intended that is introduced after, even if one or both of them refuse to sign,” Ginny collapsed into the chair next to her, “The laws are barbaric, but they’re binding as soon as the contract is served to you,”
Hermione could have sworn the world dropped out from under her, “But, I-I haven’t signed anything..” her shocked voice echoing quietly.
The red hair flared next to her as Ginny shook her head again at her, “The signing is a formality, at best,” Hermione’s gaze dropped back to the contract Ginny handed back to her, Malfoy’s initials glaring back her mockingly next to each addendum.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, “So, how do we get out of it? He added a bunch of changes, surely that’s not legal,”
Ginny’s gaze bored through hers, “Hermione, when did he initially give you the contract?”
She blinked, trying to collect her thoughts, “uh, Monday, I think,”
“Amendments are allowed for up to two weeks after,” Ginny murmured, getting out of her chair to pace around the kitchen, “I thought you said you told him off,”
“I did!” Hermione rose as well, too on edge to stay in her seat anymore, “I made it very clear to him that I would not marry him,”
She ran her fingers through her hair, “Well, clearly, he didn’t take that very seriously,” She glared at Hermione across the kitchen, never breaking her stride.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She glared back at her friend.
“Well, I’m not saying it’s your fault, ‘Mione, but jumping into bed with him after the contract was served sends a very different message than ‘I’m not marrying you’,” her hands nearly threw a cup to the floor as the ostentatious air-quotes were formed.
Hermione deflated, “How was I supposed to know any of this pure-blood nonsense?”
Ginny’s head shook, “I know, I know, I should have told you more about these types of customs when we realized how men were approaching you left and right,” she stopped in the middle of the floor, scratching her chin, “I should’ve seen something sneaky like this coming from Malfoy, at the very least,”
“Has this type of thing happened before?” she nearly whispered.
The red hair went back and forth while Ginny shrugged, “It’s generally a later process, heavily respected by the older families, a lot of talks and introductions happen well before a contract is even introduced, but there have been cases where witches or wizards from a powerful family use the law to get someone contracted before they even realize what’s happening,”
Hermione felt the hope rise in her chest again, “So, then what’s the process to overturn it? We still have more than a month before the end date,”
Ginny’s hair flew as her face whipped around, “I have no idea! The only cases I’ve heard of were overturned by alternate, signed, contracts and a meeting of the Wizengamot,”
She felt her breath leave her chest like she’d gotten punched in the stomach, “So, there’s nothing else then? At the very least, I’ll have to marry someone??”
“I-I don’t know,” She stuttered over her words, “We need to talk to Harry, maybe he can pull his solicitor in to write up a dissolution?”
“There’s nothing else you can think of? No other cases?” Hermione was nearly frantic, buzzing with anxiety, surely there would be additional documented cases, the library will have numerous legal battles documented, especially since broken betrothals and marriages along with whatever mergers or benefits arranged with them seem as though they’ve dominated the wizards’ legal spheres for centuries. Her brain already processed through the best places to start looking, she could feel a headache beginning as she mentally flew through the numerous options.
The medical libraries at St.Mungo’s would be the perfect place to research the workings of fertility enhancers, she’d noted the need for more contraceptive potions earlier, and she could pick more up from the apothecary while she was there, then the legal libraries above the department of mysteries would—
Harry’s loud clomping steps interrupted her line of thought as he re-entered the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of wine from the fridge before settling himself against the counter to survey their faces, “Jeeze, who died?” the care-free jock swished his hair back from his face before taking a sip, Ginny and Hermione looked to each other.
Ginny took a breath, letting it all out in one go, like a balloon’s air blowing out to rapidly fly across the room before hitting a wall and fizzing out.
Harry’s mouth dropped open, wine spilling out of his mouth before he remembered to close it, “Engaged?”
They traded another glace as Harry pinned her with a glare, “To Malfoy? Blimey, Hermione, why am I just now hearing about this?”
She dropped her face into her hands, “I truly didn’t realize what it meant until Ginny pointed it out to me,”
The clinking of wine glasses filled the room as Harry topped off his glass to nearly overflowing and filled one just as full for her and Ginny, “Don’t you remember all the hoops Molly made us jump through when we announced our engagement?”
“Of course she doesn’t Harry!” Ginny snapped, downing nearly half the glass in one drink, “She caught Ron the evening after,”
She rolled her eyes at the memory before picking her face up to drown it in the wine glass set out for her.
“That’s right,” Harry groaned, collapsing into a chair across from her, “Merlin, Ron’s going to go ballistic,”
“No, no one’s going to go ballistic, can you talk to your solicitor and see if he can help to get it dissolved? I’ll go to the library tomorrow—“
Harry’s eyes rolled, “Of course you are, I can talk to him, but I don’t know if he’ll be any help,”
“Didn’t he take care of our betrothal, love?” Ginny turned on her husband.
“Exactly, maybe if we find another legal precedent to follow he’ll be able to help, I can’t be forced into soul bonding anyone,” Hermione nodded as he took the contract from in front of her.
“This is—Shit, ‘Mione, this looks solid,” Harry finished his glass while he read, “It even states the commencement and ending of the betrothal period,”
His eyes scanned the paper, “Hermione, Malfoy can drag you in front of a court as of the December 12th and the Wizengamot is going to stand by whatever pure-blooded, fucked up—“
“Hey!” Ginny glared.
“Sorry, love, but this shit just wouldn’t fly in the muggle world,” He retreated towards the wine bottle again, “If a man could bind a woman just by serving her some papers, the entire world would be loony,”
“It’s entirely different, Harry Potter! Don’t try and pull that,” Ginny was on her feet, waving her finger at Harry as he crossed the room back to her, wine in hand.
“My love, of course it is,” His lips lit up with a smile, wrapping an arm around his wife to placate her, giving Hermione a quick shake of the head over her shoulder.
A giggle bubbled up in her throat, seeing the happy couple, before sobering remembering her own situation. Longing filled her seeing them dance around the kitchen slowly, whispering in each other’s ears. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt like that if she’d ever felt like that. Maybe the yule ball, Viktor comforting her after the dance, touching her on the beach. It didn’t compare.
Nothing could compare. The constant dancing around each other, stolen kisses, the way he controlled her body, mind, and soul. Malfoy had seen her at her most vulnerable and at her strongest. Since they were young, they’d danced around each other, even then she’d sensed some type of spark they’d had. She’d just always assumed it was anger.
It didn’t matter, the same way her feelings never mattered, she wouldn’t end up with someone like him. At this point, she wasn’t sure she’d end up with anyone.
Surely, after twenty-nine years on this earth, she would at least be close to someone.
She moaned, miming a gag before draining the last of her glass to push it towards Harry.
He chuckled dropping into the chair again, “Sorry, ‘Mione,” He grinned sheepishly, filling her glass again before he sobered, “But you know how the Wizengamot is, their damn blood-purist bull shit dominates every single bill they push,”
She sighed looking at him, she knew he was right, they’d rather stand on outdated traditions and laws that no longer have a place in the world than change something as simple as their hiring practices.
“I’ll talk to him though, see if there’s anything he can do, let me know if you find anything in the library though,” he nodded, “If there’s anyone, ‘Mione, it’d be you,”
She released a breathless chuckle at the overused moniker, steam glossing over the inside of her glass.
“How did this happen anyway?” he looked between them.
Hermione shrugged, “I—He--,” She sighed, examining her wine, “He said he’s had feelings for me since the trial,” she said quietly.
Harry’s eyebrows sprang up, “The trial? Why’s he just now coming with it then?”
She shrugged again, shaking her head, “I don’t know,”
He sat back in the chair, fixing her with a look, “Honestly, Hermione, I can’t say I’m surprised,”
She glared at him before Ginny slapped the back of his head with a glare of her own.
“Ouch, what? He’s always known how to get under your skin, ‘Mione,” Harry rubbed the back of his head before Ginny huffed next to him.
“He’s got a point, ‘Mione,”
“No, there’s no point, he does not know how to get under my skin,” she crossed her arms, switching her death glare back and forth between the two, the last thing she needed was the couple encouraging her to follow her worst instincts.
“Eh,” Harry shrugged, “There was the time you punched him third year,”
“The time during fifth you spelled him to take the pimple pasties,” Ginny joined in. “and the time you hexed him in the back during the dragon trials in fourth,” she giggled.
“Or the time in sixth during potions, and he left you alone most of that year too,” the absurd couple clinked their glasses, laughing as she continued to shoot daggers at them.
“Not to mention, the look he gave you during the ball,” Ginny laughed.
“Or the one she gave him back,” Harry’s cackling joined in and Hermione rolled her eyes.
Harry looked at her as they calmed down, “Look, ‘Mione, we’re just saying, what if you tried it?”
She gave a mirthless chuckle, “Harry, I wouldn’t be adverse, but the implications would be huge for me,” She took a sip, “The ‘Golden girl’ and the ex-deatheater," she scoffed, "It would undermine my entire career, cast doubt and suspicions through my entire office, any hope I would have to actually introduce meaningful legislation to overturn the horrendous hiring practices or end the corruption in the Wizengamot would be completely out the door,” she sighed, “And of course, Rita Skeeter would have a field day,”
Harry shook his head, sparing a glance at his wife, “ ’Mione, none of that’s going to happen anyway, you know the Wizengamot will never pass anything that stops them from abusing positions of power,” Ginny took his hand, “There’s been talk of you getting the sack since you got Gobwroing arrested,” he sighed, “Every member you’ve outed has the rest of them running scared, even with Dawlish’s warrant, a lot of the Wizengamot want to reinstitute him in a lead position at the DMLE,”
“I know. I know, Harry,” she drained her glass again before sadly setting it back on the table, “Once Kingsley is gone, I know I will be too,” She sighed, “If McMillon Sr. wins minister, then I may as well just get a job as a scullery maid, that’s all that will be available for muggle-borns,”
“There’s already talk of Ogden reintroducing a hiring freeze on all muggle-borns, relegating them to the lower positions again to get enough support for some other bill to pass,” Ginny said quietly.
She shook her head, “I’ve heard, I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I can’t kill any chance I have either,”
Ginny deflated, looking towards her husband, “You know you’ll always have a place here, no matter what the future holds,”
She gave a sad smile towards her, reaching out her hands, “If anyone can..” She let herself trail off as the redhead gave her a pointed look across the table.
Ginny took her head, returning her smile with a small sniffle.
The problem was she wasn’t sure she would be enough anymore.
The weekend passed quickly and Hermione poured over books as though her life depended on it. Sleep still escaped her as she laid awake in the middle of the night staring at the ceiling, willing herself to think of anything but Malfoy’s silver eyes or hands on her.
St.Mungo’s provided her with another full month of contraception potions and some answers. While male fertility potions weren’t common, if only due to every wizard owning a full repertoire of egotistical arrogance and an inability to account for their own shortcomings, most of them functioned essentially the same way. They prolonged the life of the sperm, some of the more expensive ones allow sperm to survive in-uterine for the entirety of a woman’s cycle. She still didn’t know if Malfoy would have done it, but based on Ginny’s assessment of the betrothal contact, the less doubt she had. Luckily, it seemed easily enough counteracted with a full cycle of taking contraceptive potion daily and abstinence. She groaned inwardly, the second he got his hands on her, it was like her legs spread of their own volition.
The legal library at the ministry proved more difficult. Luckily, with her ministry clearance, she had twenty-four/ seven access to it. On Sunday, she gave up on sleep and headed there around two in the morning, her scar refused to stop burning. Every page she turned, the pain grew until she finally had to take a break, fighting nausea in the bathroom.
Monday finally came and she was no closer to finding any similar legal cases. The closest she’d found was a woman running from an arranged marriage, even that contract was upheld after her pregnancy was uncovered. Apparently, being unwed and pregnant was a cardinal sin even in the wizarding world. She was sure she’d gone through every marriage-based legal case since the 1600s.
She finally sat back from the desk, head throbbing in time with her scar. This was no use. Not one case overturned a betrothal contract unless there was already another contract that pre-dated it.
Her hands rubbed down her face, there was absolutely nothing she could find that would allow her to break this contract without unanimous agreement from the involved parties.
She was exhausted, hungry, and just downright lacking patience. A cursory wave of her wand had the numerous scrolls piled on the table floating back towards their assigned shelves. With any luck, Delores had left all the reports she’d previously asked for on her desk, she could sneak in and pick them up before Kingsley knew she set foot back in the department. She glanced down at her burning arm, lifting her sleeve and the wrapping to survey the swollen skin before sighing and letting it drop again.
Ginny was right about many things, but her scar was getting worse, maybe she should try a specialist again after all.
The ministry offices were quiet, Delores off assisting somewhere else while she was gone, allowing her to quickly sneak into her office before shutting the door soundly. There were piles spread haphazardly all over her office, the leaning towers slowly sorting themselves into different piles. If she could, she’d give Delores a raise, the different sorting piles were separated by specimen type and testing done, while her incoming mail was neatly organized into a pile on her desk.
Her head panged as she pulled out her wand, quickly stopping the sorting to be restarted at Grimmauld place, sending a light sticking charm, the piles compressed into bricks that she shrunk and threw into her bag. Working from Ginny’s today would be a welcome distraction.
As the papers collected themselves, the wards around her office rang along with a light knock on the door.
She looked over her shoulder, waving the door open as she finished her organization, throwing the mail into her bag to review.
“Yes?” a familiar bush of red hair strolling confidently into her office.
“Hermione,” A smile lit his scarred face, Charlie was always the favorite Weasley brother.
“Charlie, how’re you?” he wrapped his arms around her in a stronghold, nearly sweeping her from the ground.
“Much better now that you’ve solved my dragon egg problem,” she laughed as he let her back down to the floor.
“I heard they were doing interviews of the sanctuary workers today, is that why you’re here?”
He nodded, “I did my interview, Roberts seemed in a bad mood today, roasted me over hot coals, he did,”
She frowned, “I’m sorry, normally he’s much kinder, I know I left a note for him that your interview was to be more of a formality since you were the one who brought the issue to light,”
He waved off her apologies, dropping into her vacated reading chair while she propped herself on her desk, “Yes, right twat or not, one of our trainers folded like a damn leaf, admitted to supplying Dawlish with the confirmed non-viable eggs before replacing them with destroyed ones,” his smile never dulled.
Her eyebrows went up, “That seems kinda’ roundabout doesn’t it?”
He chuckled shaking his head, “Said it dispelled suspicions, and Dawlish thought if he did, it would keep you off his back,”
“Appalling, truly,” She pinched the bridge of her nose, “He just managed to drag someone else down with him,”
“Kinda’ rotten too, I was planning on dinner with the wanker tonight,” his shoulders shook with his laugh, “Wanted to come up to thank you, I really dodged that bullet,”
She laughed, “Well, men suck,”
He smirked, “That’s not the news I’ve been seein’ posted around about you, love,”
Her eyes rolled.
“Looks like you and that Malfoy bloke are gettin’ cozy,” he laughed, “Seems like I’m the only one left on the shitty dating train,”
She groaned into her hands, “Yes, well, me and that ‘Malfoy bloke’ aren’t anything,” She laughed lightly, “He’s been making quite the show of trying to court me though,”
“Had me fooled, that’s for sure,” Charlie chuckled, “So still in the dating scene then?”
She shrugged, noncommittal, “Seems like a lost cause at this point,”
The lanky man stood from the chair stretching high enough to reach the ceiling, “Fair enough, are you still hiding out at Harry’s and Ginny’s?” She nodded, “Good,” He chuckled, “Mum doesn’t know I’m in town and I was going to stop in for dinner before heading back to Romania tonight,”
The redhead gave her another hug before turning his back to leave, “I’m heading back there now, I’ll see you tonight,” He nodded before giving her one last squeeze and heading out of her office, closing the door behind him, just for a mop of white hair to flash in her doorway as it closed.
Hermione scraped a hand down her face, lack of sleep was catching up with her, numerous reports she’d been filtering through were finally sorted and organized on Harry’s desk in his study. The tea Ginny had given her upon returning had long gone cold despite the stasis charm and the reports had blurred together in the stable and constant diagnostics. Mermaid specimens, numerous parcels of confiscated baneberry, bowtruckles, even a few more murtlap specimens had all passed the inspections with no issues in the past month.
She groaned, looking towards the clock, she still had another hour until dinner. Her eyes danced over the stack labeled as the current cases, the specimens currently being examined in the lab.
It didn’t seem strange at all, more mermaid cases, the analysis of confiscated batches of Barruffio’s brain elixir, no indication on where or how to brew came to be, a Grindylow, a kelpie, she ticked off the different cases in her mind as she went, turning the pages in a mind-numbing rhythm until her eyes stuttered over one of the lines.
Previous inspections confirmed non-viability, destroyed egg was received after the required incubation period. Calcium and protein deposits are significantly lower than would be expected in a non-viable egg, possible cause of non-viability. Her eyes narrowed before she rustled through the previous reports, frantically looking, there was another.
The piles on her desk were upended until she had it in her hand.
Previous inspections confirmed non-fertilized, non-viable dragon egg. After the required incubation period calcium and protein deposits were significantly lower than expected in this status specimen. Possible cause: Failure to fertilize.
She examined the two reports, the wording nearly exact between them regardless of coming from two different technicians. It didn’t make sense, dragon eggs were notoriously stable specimens, and very little could be done to interrupt their internal environment leading to each one having nearly identical statistics regardless of being viable or fertilized. It was possible that in travel some of the yolk had leaked, leading to the low readings but the report documented intact packaging for both of the abnormal eggs.
Naturally, both cases were dismissed by the Department of Magical Creatures, as they normally would be. Hermione thumbed through the current cases pile, pulling out all dragon egg specimens. Non-viable: No abnormalities, Non-viable: no abnormalities, Non-fertilized: No abnormalities, Non-viable: low calcium and protein deposits.
Her heart nearly stopped seeing it. Three specimens, all pulled from an outside sanctuary in Scotland, signed by three different technicians, all three with significant statistical abnormalities.
They switched suppliers. The thought flashed through her mind, this is what the Department of Magical Creatures was supposed to pick up on but the abnormalities were small enough to be overlooked. The raid of the Dugog brewing den was scheduled to happen today, it wouldn’t make sense for them to switch suppliers when Dawlish was giving them a steady stream of Dragon eggs. Craggy reported Dawlish bringing them a large load of full eggs just last week, there’s no way they would have been able to use them all this quickly.
Her mind spun, if they wouldn’t need dragon eggs yet, who else would need to buy them? The niggling thoughts in the back of her mind roared to the front, there was only one logical suspect of who else Dawlish was supplying.
Each piece clicked into place, as her wide eyes examined and re-examined the reports, the picture forming Malfoy’s silver eyes staring back at her in her mind. Until she finally collapsed back in her chair. Hermione stared at the ceiling, wild eyes tracing the paths laid out by the information, every one leading directly back to Malfoy Manor and the beast within.
“Shit,” her whispered curse was lost in the rustling of papers as she snatched her bag off the floor, clearing the desk of the massive stacks she had yet to go through. Digging through the extended bag it just seemed like endless paper until she’d finally lost her patience, upturning the entire thing onto the desk in a shower of random objects clattering and a flurry of scrolls floating to the ground until the letters finally fell from where they’d been shoved.
Frantic fingers ripped open the letter from the Wizengamot where their harsh denial of the search of Malfoy Manor met her eyes. The bastards went so far as to call it the ‘new persecution of an upstanding pure-blood citizen based on class alone’. If she introduced another request for a search, not only would she be laughed out of the court but they would use the same ink of the denial to sign her pink slip and potentially an investigation into her ‘prejudice against the pure-bloods’.
Hermione was ready to scream, balling the letter into a ball before lighting it with wandless magic and throwing it to the fireplace.
“That seems a tad dramatic,” Ginny’s voice sounded from the doorway.
Her eyes turned to the door where Ginny tipped the cup in offering.
Giving a sigh as she took the cup from the redhead, “Thanks, Ginny,”
“Care to share?” the sassy mother perched herself in one of the armchairs.
“More inconsistencies,” She rubbed her forehead, “Want to guess who’s at the center of it all?”
Ginny looked towards the fire, “Draco fuckin’ Malfoy,” she breathed.
Hermione sipped her tea with a nod, “And the letter I just threw into the fire was an accusation from the Wizengamot that I’m prejudiced,”
Ginny’s eyes widened, “You can’t be serious, ‘Mione,”
“Unfortunately, I am,” She shrugged quietly, “My request for a search of Malfoy Manor was apparently ‘Borne from an extreme distaste of any descendent of a well-bred house’” she scoffed to the ceiling, “Now, my part of the case is essentially solved, if I get it re-opened to pursue Malfoy as a suspect I’ll be laughed out of the meeting,”
“And maybe fired,” Ginny’s whispered words hit home. Her position had always been precarious within the ministry, Wizengamot officials always felt threatened and tried to keep muggle-borns from holding any higher positions within the ministry. Now it was like one misstep would result in her downfall, nearly balancing on a highwire above a pool of sharks waiting to snap, “What’re you going to do?”
“I have no idea,” Hermione shrugged, letting the hot tea warm her hands, the only solution she could think of would be to investigate it on her own until there was enough evidence to send it anonymously to the general crimes department. Ginny sat, assessing her quietly, intelligent eyes knowing Hermione well enough to see straight through whatever façade she threw up.
She finally sighed, “Please don’t do anything rash, ‘Mione,”
Charlie’s raucous laughter boomed down the hall where it intermingled with Harry’s in the kitchen.
She took a breath, looking towards the door, open to allow the voices in, “I won’t,” her wand made quick work of the explosion of papers around Harry’s office while Ginny fixed her with a glare.
“I mean it, Hermione,” Ginny’s arms went around her as the papers landed back in their places, “If something happens to you..” Her voice trailed off where her face was tucked into her shoulder. Her arms returned Ginny’s embrace, the children’s echoing laughter bouncing around the house as stomping footsteps chased smaller ones.
Hermione sighed into the warmth and red hair of her friend’s hug. There was so much warmth and love throughout the house, reminding her of the similar one she wanted to build for herself. Her friends were always there for her, but this type of warmth was missing from her own home. It was so often chilled, isolated from her friends, the family she’d built for herself.
Every chance she got she submerged herself in it, before their break-up, she’d been a part of the family. Now, it just seemed like she was on the periphery like she’d lost Ron and the rest of them along with him. Tears pricked her eyes as Ginny sniffled in her ear.
She finally pulled back, holding to Hermione’s shoulders, “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now, but if you get yourself killed, I’ll follow you to the afterlife and kill you again myself,”
Hermione finally let out a watery chuckle, blossoming into fully belly-aching laughter until Ginny joined in, haphazardly hanging off each other until Charlie and James found them.
Despite her best efforts, once the distractions were gone, Charlie portkeyed home and James and Lily were in bed, Hermione’s mind spun. Ginny and Harry had long since excused themselves, leaving her alone in the sitting room, staring at the flames while her forgotten wine glass twirled slowly between her fingers.
Her options ranged from bad to worse. She could pretend she never found the discrepancy, let herself fall into the same trap of complacency that the Wizengamot thrived upon, or she could investigate it herself. If she was found out, then not only would her job be axed immediately, but she would go to Azkaban for running a rogue investigation.
Her eyes glanced towards the stairs, Ginny knew her better than she knew herself at points, and when confronted with the option, Hermione knew she couldn’t just let it go. Which left her to plot out the best way to investigate without being uncovered.
There was always the obvious option, sign the contract. She groaned, drawing her attention back to her wine to watch the ruby liquid swirl in the glass. According to Harry’s solicitor, it was going to be damn near impossible to dissolve without that added complication. Leaving her with a whole lot of nothing except visions of his tattooed fingers stroking down her legs as she dozed and sweet claims of possession whispered in her ears as he overtook her completely.
Her unseeing eyes blinked, squeezing her thighs against the arousal building before trying to pull her mind back on track. The blood wards would stop her from entering the property without permission from the outside, but .. Hermione’s mind wondered, adrenaline surging through her system before her eyes saw exactly what was in front of her. He linked the floos when he sent her home, the same floo she was now sitting in front of.
Her head perked from where it sat leaned against her palm, plan coming together, it’s a long shot to say the least. She dropped her wine on the table before grabbing her bag with the extension charm and writing out a fast letter for Ginny just in case she found anything.
Hermione stopped in her tracks, heading for the floo, was she really about to break into Malfoy Manor? She shook her head, trying to erase the doubts, a quick check of the potions lab and if there was nothing there she would drop the entire thing. She stared towards the floo, shellshocked at her line of thought, if there was nothing there, maybe, just maybe she would talk to him and give him a chance.
Theo hadn’t come to bother him after they’d finished the daily collections, choosing to go home to ice his shoulder after one of the debtors got too randy, leaving Draco to catch up on records. By the time he’d finished brewing a new batch of Baneberry this morning, he’d realized how low their supply of plants had gotten since visiting Longbottom. The trickle of bad luck had started there, just in time to receive a call from his team informing him that she’d spent nearly the entire night in the ministry legal libraries. He snorted, irresponsible witch.
Draco groaned, ice clicking together in the tumbler as he drank. Whatever she knew now, it was clear she had no intentions of coming anywhere near him now. It would seem his good luck had finally run itself out.
The pages blurred in front of him as he reviewed the lender contracts and different portfolios from his finances, his train of thought completely out of control. His blood nearly boiled seeing the redhead in her office earlier. He was barely able to keep himself from marching in and cursing the man the second he saw the arms around his witch. If it had been the weasel, he doubted his self-control would have stretched that far.
Draco drained what was left in the glass before abandoning it on his desk to pace around the room. His entire being was on edge with his magic humming through his veins, urging him to simply take what was his. If she had objections, she would be more than allowed to voice them while he convinced her of who she belonged to.
He groaned thinking of it, her arse splayed across his desk like a meal, perfectly blushing pink as she pushed back towards his hands and arched her back so prettily with every smack. She’d been dripping for him before her spanking had even started, by the end, she drenched the front of his trousers just sitting on his lap.
Draco sighed, running his hands over his face again before refilling his glass with a resolve to finish his review and formulate a plan to put in place in the morning. This has gone on long enough, the next opening he got he would take her.
Another fifteen minutes and a drained glass of scotch seemed to confirm that there was nothing else that was going to get finished tonight. He shook his head before closing the file and heading to his bed for the night. The elves had been dismissed for the evening and the manor was quiet, free of the construction workers that had plagued it of late.
He swung his door closed with a soft snick pausing for a second as a soft woosh of air sounded in the hallway.
Hermione paused in the open fireplace, frozen in place as she listened for any noises to indicate Malfoy was alerted by her entrance. She held her breath, sitting in that spot for what felt like ages before she dared to breathe again.
Toeing off her shoes to opt for the quiet of her socks, she took her first tentative steps out of the floo. The manor was dark, the only door she knew leading out of the foyer was cracked open to reveal Malfoy’s office, the embers of the fireplace still glowing as though he’d left only a few minutes before. The grand staircase led around the room, giving way to a hallway upstairs where she could see the soft glow of a distant light a few floors up.
Noting the light, she took a breath to focus her mind on why she was there. In and out, find the evidence, document, leave. Taking a slow turn around the hall, she couldn’t see or hear any other activity in the house, now the problem is finding my way down to the potions lab.
A faint voice in the back of her mind grew louder, reminding her of what would happen if she was found here.
Shaking off the doubt she began to make her way around the house, cracking open doors as she went, one of them warded, and crossing her fingers that the lab would be easily accessible without any extra warding. One room must’ve been a sitting room, a massive grand piano taking up the majority of the space. Her heart panged seeing the library, wishing she had the time to sit and wonder through the aisles until she had her fill of the Malfoys’ treasured books.
Coming across a massive hall, she turned around the incredible ballroom, the floor-to-ceiling windows allowing moonlight to bounce off the marble-tiled floor. Truly a marvel of antique engineering, the columns framed the most massive chandelier she’d ever seen. Even with the obvious construction going on to restore the intricate molding in the ceiling, the room was fit for a ball.
Hermione’s socked feet quietly ran across the room as she attempted to make up for the lost time she spent gawking, gently poking her head into the swinging door with the hopes it led to the kitchen.
Bingo, through the kitchen, there was a narrow staircase leading down into a cellar. The moonlight had run out as her feet fished for each step, finally lighting her wand with a noiseless flick when she reached the bottom of the staircase only to reveal more corridors.
Really, who needs this much house? Her inner monologue had her snorting at the absurdity of dungeons in a personal residence, trying not to linger on its potential usages. Ginny’s story of Abraxas Malfoy and his wife flashing through her mind, she gulped, surveying the bars that rose up to greet her and chains hanging limply against the wall.
The unbidden thoughts of Malfoy chaining her for his use rising into her head had her clenching her thighs as she imagined herself pinned against the wall as he picked her up and thrust into her. The wicked ideas had her whimpering in the quiet corridor, the images seeped through her conscious, her knees weakening as her imaginary Draco pinned her chained form whispering dirty things into her ear as her legs splayed open for his fingers to – her groan echoed loudly throughout the stone hall, shocking her from the forbidden fantasy playing out in her head.
Hermione snapped her hand over her mouth, holding her breath to listen for footsteps around her. Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest as she stayed silent, inwardly cursing herself for the impermissible thoughts running around her mind.
The soft cloth of her socks caught on the rough stones as she quickly hurried down the hall. Stepping around a corner to leave the cages behind her, wooden doors came into view, gently poking her head into one revealed a massive wine cellar, the towers of wine racks stretching into a vaulted ceiling with massive aging barrels to the wall. The door shut with a small click as she continued to listen for potential activity alerted to her movements.
The next door held an extension of the wine cellar, she gave an amused shake of her head at the ridiculousness of needing such massive stores of liquor before moving on to the next one. A quiet cracking of the door revealed work benches for potions, her heart galloped in her chest letting the door open wider to see a massive cauldron in the middle of the room with several smaller ones splayed out around it.
Stepping up closer to the huge fixture, Hermione let her light fall on the liquid inside, the tell-tale purple roiling slowly in the pot. Baneberry potion, her mind spun at the implications of brewing a batch this large, he must be selling. Baneberry was a relatively easy potion, distilling down baneberries into small concentrated portions that were widely used by partying individuals. Not addictive in itself, it was still illegal for recreational usage and was often abused by individuals looking for an escape.
Shaky fingers fished the muggle camera out of her pocket before snapping a quick photo. Turning her light around the room, the rest of the smaller cauldrons were empty making her freeze in place, what else were these meant to be brewing? The more corrosive Baruffio’s brain elixir came to mind, the addictive drug was a plague on the streets needing to be eradicated. The idea that Malfoy was supplying it was terrifying.
Her eyes turned to the cabinets, pulling open the first one with a wince at the creaky hinges, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Ashwinder eggs, leaping toadstools, a small store of baneberry, she frowned on the expected ingredients. Using her light on the walls revealed another cabinet at the back of the room. Hermione could hear her pulse pounding in her ears as she took careful steps towards it, her entire world narrowing to what her light fell upon. Her fingers hesitated while reaching for the latch, not feeling any wards around it, surely that’s an oversight, her brow furrowed, letting her unencumbered hand wrap around the iron latch before turning it to give a solid yank.
It didn’t move. The latch stayed firmly in place like it was stuck there.
She tried it again and again, getting frustrated with the medieval device. Shifting to put her wand between her teeth, Hermione gripped the handle with both hands, bracing her feet on the floor. Pulling back her shoulders, she threw her entire weight into it when an electrifying jolt ran through her body.
The magic threw her across the room as the full body bind jinx kicked into place, wrapping around her torso and pinning her wrists to her back where she knelt on the floor.
She stopped fighting it, her wand skittering across the floor, freezing into place as she watched the inanimate cabinet with wide eyes and a prayer to Merlin that it didn’t alert anyone in the house.
After a few seconds of kneeling, tied, on the floor, she released her breath, the light of her wand still illuminated the room from where it sat on the floor. Her thoughts came in a flurry, she couldn’t get up, even if no one were alerted she was a sitting duck until someone realized she was there.
Frantically, Hermione started squirming towards her wand when the cabinet suddenly lit up red, a screech loud enough to shake the pillars in the dining room sounding. Shit.