Chapter 21:  More Trouble Came

 

        The day proved to be full of revelations.

        Long after Sirius' departure Hermione sat at the kitchen table. Her back rested against one of the mismatched chairs, her hands were folded loosely in her lap, her eyes gazed at nothing in particular as she thought about what he had said. And oh, had he ever had a lot to say. Hermione never would have guessed, she never would have even realized, that he felt such things for her. How had she missed it? For years it had seemed like everything that he had done, everything that he had said, was done for the sole purpose of hurting her. But if what he said was true, and she could honestly see no reason why he would lie, then it started to make an odd sort of sense. He hadn't been trying to hurt he had been trying to push her away.

        Hermione couldn't even imagine what it must have been like for him. He had spent so much time and energy ensuring that he would never have what he wanted. Hadn't Sirius been through enough hardships in life? The very idea of it made her heart hurt for him. Life had been so unfair for him. The many sleepless nights that she spent for him paled in comparison to what seemed to be years of devotion.

        Things were clearer now. His abrupt departure during their sixth year followed by his silence and coldness to her. That one desperate kiss. Hermione squirmed uncomfortably as thoughts of the morning's earlier activities came momentarily to a forefront in her mind. She liked kissing him. She had liked the kiss in her seventh year, that hard, frightening kiss. It had been full of more want and passion than she had ever felt before from one person. It had been, at least, until Sirius kissed her again.

        This was all starting to be a bit too much for Hermione. If she had been asked yesterday afternoon whether or not Sirius Black liked her, she would have had to say no, but now...now she could hardly put it into words. And not for the last time she wished that Harry and Ron were here. She wished that things were as they were, as they had always been, she was breaking under the pressure.

        Sirius Black was in love with her. He had always been in love with her. He would be returning to her and he would be expecting an answer to his unasked question.

~*~*~*~

        "You've been in an off mood all day." Draco said as he handed her a fresh mug of coffee.

        Hermione wouldn't meet his eyes, "I do not know what you are talking about. I am fine, just a little tired." She allowed herself a slight smirk that she had learned from him, "for some reason there just didn't seem to be much room on my bed."

        "Granger, Granger, Granger," He settled into a chair across the table from her own. "How many times do I have to tell you that you are a terrible liar? You can't even manage to change topics with some measure of grace."

        Hermione scowled up at him over a large stack of books but said nothing.

        "I noticed that a certain Mr. Black is missing today." Draco prodded.

        Hermione opened a book, Magical Maladies & Mishaps, and ignored him.

        "Hermione," He wheedled.

        "I don't want to talk about it, all right? We need to work on this."

        His eyes widened as if something had been confirmed for him and then he smiled at her slightly. "It'll turn out all right, you know."

        She looked up in surprise, dark curls falling back, "What?"

        But Draco just smiled that smile and ignored her questions. After a while, Hermione just let it go, and Draco continued to smile at her long after anything that even remotely resembled happiness was gone from his eyes.

        Hours later, well after they had shared a plate of cheese sandwiches, Hermione had an idea.

        "Draco, do you know anything about the enchantments that Voldemort has on himself?"

        Draco nearly choked; he had been relaxing on the sofa eating a few pieces of Mrs. Weasley's fudge that he had found in the icebox. "What?"

        "You know," Hermione said impatiently as she stood up, pacing seemed to help her think, "Voldemort wandered the world as some sort of spirit form until he had a new body created for him, what type of enchantments did he use to enable that ability?"

        "Uh...well, loads of black magic for starters, why?" Draco had learned, just as Harry and Ron had, that Hermione's sudden burst of inspiration could be quite frightening.

        "Oh don't look at me like that!" She snapped at his expression, "I think I might be onto something."

        "You don't say?" The snide remark was out before he could stop it. "Sorry, sorry," He said quickly as her eyes flashed, "please tell me what you're going on about."

        Hermione dragged a chair over to where Draco sat. "I've been trying to think of a way to banish his soul once his new body has been destroyed but I haven't been able to find anything. But in all the books that I've read, wizard and muggle, they've all agreed on one thing. Once the body is destroyed the soul should depart from this plane of existence. The soul should move over to whatever comes after this life."

        "Unless said soul becomes a ghost or a poltergeist." Draco interrupted.

        "That's true, but Voldemort was never a ghost, was he? He never really died because his body was just a shell."

        "A shell?"

        "Your soul and your body are one living entity. You shouldn't be able to live without one or the other. But Voldemort did, he continued to live on after his body was gone."

        Draco frowned as he listened. "He funneled enough magical power into his soul that he didn't need his body anymore. He was able to keep going for years without a body. But how...?"

        "How was he able to make the separation between his soul and his body before the attacks on Harry? I'm not sure. That's what we need to find out as soon as possible." Hermione had begun to unconsciously tug on a curl.

        "Why would knowing that help?"

        "Because if we know how he did it we can reverse it. If it is reversed and then he is killed, his soul won't be able to linger on this plain anymore as a malicious entity, he'll be forced over to the other side."

        Draco reached out and grasped her hand to prevent her from pulling the lock of hair from her head. "I'm not sure what spells he used, but I know that most of it is very dark magic."

        Hermione smile at him, "well, that is your specialty, isn't it, Draco?"

~*~*~*~

        It was dangerous for him, Hermione had no doubt, but Draco always said that he liked danger and Hermione imagined that he was starting to get a little stir-crazy here in her flat. He hadn't left it in days. So when he offered to sneak into Diagon alley and visit one of the numerous, Draco assured her, Malfoy vaults in order to relieve it of some of its ancient dark magic books, Hermione didn't spend a great deal of effort trying to dissuade him. In fact, as he wrapped himself up his top-of-the-line invisibility cloak his eyes gleamed far brighter than they had for a day or two.

        Now that he was gone, she was all alone, Hermione hadn't been by herself here, since, well, she couldn't remember ever being in that situation in her flat. When Harry and Ron were still there they never left her alone. They had never said so, but Hermione had always known that they made a point to never leave her completely solitary. Ron or Harry was always there. In fact, Hermione couldn't remember the last me that she did anything by herself. Ever since the attack on the Underground, no one ever let her be. It used to drive her absolutely mad. The way that Harry and Ron always insisted on hovering around her, like she needed Ron to go robe shopping with her. He hated that. You would think that she had twisted his arm into going with her all those times when really she always tried to steal out of the flat without them knowing but that long ago spell made sneaking very difficult when Harry or Ron were involved.

        They had moved into the flat for that reason, for their need to always be there, Hermione knew that they never got over the fact that they hadn't been there before. Not that they should have been. She couldn't ever make them understand that they weren't responsible. That she just happened to be in the wrong place at the worst possible time. But Harry and Ron never really listened and a part of Hermione appreciated never being alone.

        When they had come up with the plan, when Harry had come up with the plan, her being alone had been one of the biggest concerns. It shouldn't have been, but it was. She had worried about it. It had been so long since she had been without Harry or Ron. How could she come back to this dead apartment? How could she do anything without them? But then Sirius had come and then Draco. And things hadn't been as bad.

        Hermione was alone now.

~*~*~*~

        She wasn't alone for long.

        Sometime that late, overcast afternoon Hermione had a visitor ring her bell. It was immediately unsettling, no one ever rang her bell, all the neighbors knocked and by now Sirius and Draco knew her lack of discipline when it came to warding the door so they usually tended to walk right in.

        With a good measure of trepidation Hermione approached the door. Her wand was held tightly in her hand. She forced her thoughts to focus as Professor Bankotsu had taught her. Hermione leaned against the wall by the door her mind creating a picture of the visitor awaiting a response. It was a man, tall and older. It was someone familiar, someone that she knew.

        "Yes?" She responded finally really not wanting to open her door.

        "Ms. Granger? I've been sent by the Ministry, we have a few questions for you." A cold voice asked.

        Hermione's shoulders slouched. In truth, she had been expecting this. It was only her connections to Albus Dumbledore that had kept the questioning Aurors at bay for so long. But now, to send this man to her, there must be serious concerns over the validity of her story.

        Hermione opened the door slowly and gazed up at her former Professor whom she had wished to the farthest depths of hell two years ago. "Mulicber."

        The older man looked back down at her with a cold smile lighting his sharp blue eyes as if he was finding a great deal of enjoyment out of the situation. Hermione figured that he probably was.

        "May I come in, Ms. Granger?"

        Hermione lowered her head, she could tell him no but he would only come back later with reinforcements, so Hermione nodded and stepped backwards allowing him to brush past her into the flat.

        He looked around himself once he was inside, his quick eyes took in the extra blankets on the couch, the scattered paper work, the dirty dishes in the sink that could not possibly have come from one person alone. Hermione stood at the end of the hall next to Harry's door and watched him.

        "Been entertaining, have you?"

        "I have had company." Hermione replied vaguely. He had no reason to be suspicious. There was nothing wrong with having people over after a death.

        "But you are all alone now?" He asked rhetorically.

        She could offer him a seat or a cup of tea but Hermione didn't want to be so welcoming. Mulciber had no qualms concerning her hospitality, or lack there of, as he sat down at the table. One of his well manicured hands reached out to take up her notes. Hermione moved quickly forward to snatch them back.

        "What do you want?" She asked coldly, rudely.

        He smiled at her coldness glinting in his eyes, "So many things."

        An angry flush colored her cheeks. How dare he speak to her like that? She was an Auror, his equal, not some ignorant student whom he could wield his power over. Hermione was no longer someone that he could intimidate with heated gazes and suggestive dialogue. Though her hand did slip into her pocket to reassuringly palm her wand nonetheless.

        He laughed, "You act like I'm going to attack you, Hermione."

        She flinched at the use of her name. "Are you?"

        He switched topics. "What made you three decide to go to Malfoy Manor? There has never any direct connection between the Malfoys and the Dark Lord." The smile was gone and he was suddenly very serious.

        The fact that he did not answer her question did not slip her notice.

        "Is this an official Ministry question?" Hermione answered his question with a question. If this was an official meeting then she was obligated to speak to him. If it wasn't, however, then Hermione had every intention of throwing him out of her home.

        "Do you think that I'm here for my own amusement?"

        "I certainly would not put it past you, Sir."

        He casually placed one elbow on her kitchen table, leaned his chin into his hand, and crossed one leg over the other. "Answer my question, Ms. Granger."

        While he spoke he removed a dark blue quill with a silver tip engraved with the Ministry seal from an inner pocket of his robe. He set it; point down, on her table. It was a Veridicus Quill. It was similar to a Quick Quotes Quill but it was far more reliable. It would record everything that was said as it was said, no enhancements, no untruths. It was heavily enchanted to guard against outside interference and tampering. It required no parchment only a smooth surface. Aurors often used it while interrogating a suspect. Hermione herself had used one in the past on occasion.

        Hermione stepped back from him, and went to her desk. She carefully arranged her notes, her back turned towards him, but never once was her attention not fully focused on the man behind her. Hermione turned finally to look at him, her hands once again submerging themselves into her pockets, fingers finding her wand. She could not allow herself to be taken in to custody if Mulciber saw fit to try, not when they were so close, not when they were almost done.

        After a long pause in which Hermione studied Mulciber warily she finally spoke. "We received information leading us to believe that the Malfoys were indeed Death Eaters who strongly supported Voldemort."

        His eyes glinted at the use of the name. "And who gave you such information?"

        It never failed to surprise her, the way people reacted to the name Voldemort as if the word itself would invoke the dark wizard's corporeal presence right there in their midst

        "You know that I cannot give you the name of my source." Hermione said carefully choosing her words. "For their safety, of course."

        Mulciber casually studied his hand, "You attended Hogwarts with the younger Malfoy, Draco, didn't you?"

        She refused to let any reaction to her friends' name color her expression. "I believe you are right."

        "What was your affiliation with young Mister Malfoy?" A wicked smile, one that made Hermione think that he was envisioning her relationship with Draco in a highly carnal fashion, spread across his face.

        Dirty old bastard.

        "He hated us and the feeling was mutual." The lie was easy. "There was not much more to our relationship than that."

        He was still smiling like he knew more about it than he should. "So that was all there was? There was nothing more between you two? No secret passion that might lead him to betray his Lord?" His eyes were glinting brightly again with that half-mad light that she remembered from the time he had accosted her at Aylesbury.

        Hermione frowned at his words, alarm bells going off, she did not like where this was going. "What is the Ministry's interest in Draco Malfoy?"

        Mulciber sat straighter, "You don't know? No, I suppose you wouldn't, having holed yourself up here. Draco Malfoy went missing about two weeks ago. Right after the unfortunate incident concerning Misters Potter and Weasley."

        He was watching her closely for any reaction. Hermione could see it easily in his too bright eyes that he suspected something. She kept her gaze straight and steady, forcing herself to calm just like she had been taught. Hermione would not let him get to her.

        "No, I did not know that." She casually brushed back a lock of a hair, a move that on most would tell of subconscious nervousness but Hermione was in touch with her normal nuances, to eliminate her familiar motions would only signify to Mulciber that she was indeed hiding something. If she acted in anyway out of the ordinary he would have the whole Ministry upon her before she could blink.

        Mulciber rose from his seat, unfolding himself easily, and took several small steps towards her. It took all of her willpower not to back away from the smiling man.

        "We believe that Draco Malfoy has valuable information concerning the Dark Lord. His life is in danger. The Ministry is willing to offer him protection if he can be of some assistance." His arms were crossed back behind his back. He stood before much as he had in the days when she was a student.

        "Malfoy was no fool." Hermione responded to the unasked question. "If he is in danger then I am certain he would have fled Britain immediately."

        He came to a stop very close to her. Hermione focused on studying the man in order to fight back the nervous tremble that wanted to shoot up her spine. His light brown hair was streaked with far more gray than it had the last time she saw him. More lines scarred his face giving him an older, rugged look. She couldn't deny that he was handsome in that older gentleman sort of way. But she despised everything about him. This man had persecuted Sirius. Had helped drag him off to Azkaban without finding out whether he was innocent or not. This man was disgusting.

        "I thought you said," He smiled, shining sharp looking white teeth at her, "that you and Malfoy hated each other." He obviously thought that he had caught her in a lie.

        "I did." Hermione allowed a smirk that she had learned from the man in question cross her lips. "And we did hate each other. But I'm not fool enough to ignore his intelligence. That is one of the first rules we learned at Aylesbury, never underestimate your enemy."

        "Yet, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley are both dead and buried now, aren't they?"

        Hermione bit the tip of her tongue in order to keep her thoughts to herself. If they really had been killed, Harry and Ron, she would be hysterical now. What type of person would willingly inflict this sort of mental barrage on another human being, on a colleague?

        "You're very callus, Ms. Granger." He raised one hand quickly, tracing the edge of her cheek, before she could pull away. "I could see it back then at Aylesbury. You had such promise. We could have done amazing things together."

        Hermione jerked away from him with an angry noise. She shoved past him, intent on showing him the door, he could damn well come back with fifty Aurors for all she cared. "You are a bastard." She shot over her shoulder at him. "I would never, ever, do anything with you."

        There was a sound from the far end of the hall. Someone was opening the door. One of her guests had come home.

        "No," Hermione whispered then louder, "No, g..."

        Mulciber grabbed her from behind, one hand harshly covering her mouth while the other fought for her wand and won. "Shh, it's all right little lamb." He breathed heavily in her ear as he pocketed her wand before bringing his own up to press against her throat, "Let us see who's come to visit."