“The way sadness works is one of the strange riddles of the world. If you are stricken with a great sadness, you may feel as if you have been set aflame, not only because of the enormous pain, but also because your sadness may spread over your life, like smoke from an enormous fire. You might find it difficult to see anything but your own sadness, the way smoke can cover a landscape so that all anyone can see is black. You may find that if someone pours water all over you, you are damp and distracted, but not cured of your sadness, the way a fire department can douse a fire but never recover what has been burnt down.” 

— Lemony Snicket

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“Tully, where was the last place Theo was seen?”

The elf’s mop came to a sloppy halt on the floor. She paused for a long time, long enough that a puddle was soon formed there. When she did look up, her eyes were glossy and frightened.

“Tully does not know, sir,” she said sadly, bowing her head.

“Think,” he urged on. “This is important. I need to know.” And when she didn’t say anything, “You want your master back, don’t you?”

Tully straightened up, her large ears twitching. “Master does not like Tully, sir. Master isn’t caring for Tully.”

“Of course he does!” Draco said, irritated. “Theo just never displays human emotion.”

Tully wiped her eyes on her new dress that was already soaked from the mop and other housework. He didn’t think it would look new much longer. “Really?”

“Yes,” said Draco at once. “I’m a little disappointed in you though, Tully. If Theo heard what you said he’d be so upset.”

Tully’s eyes went wider than they already were, and she looked around guiltily before taking a step closer to Draco. “You won’t tell master Tully thought badly of him, will you? Tully hates to sees master sad.”

“Of course not.” He felt a small amount of satisfaction that his cunning was still intact.

“Okay, well,” she began, her voice getting very low, “Tully heard master saying to Miss. Pansy about leaving for Padfree’s Restaurant, but he never came back, sir. Said he was meeting somebody there and wouldn’t be back until late.”

“Who was he meeting?”

“Tully doesn’t know. He didn’t tell Miss. Pansy either. Oh, but please don’t tell anyone Tully told you,” she said, horrified, “because Tully was not supposed to be eavesdropping!”  

But Draco wasn’t listening. His brain was already processing this new information. He knew Padfree’s was Theodore’s favourite restaurant, he had his fourteenth birthday there, and Draco knew that was why Pansy had been so upset when they’d met at that restaurant. But she never told him that that was the last place Theo had last been seen. Though, it made sense because he suddenly understood what Weasley had meant about ‘Auror business’. 

That was when it hit him. The Death Eaters had cornered Theo like they had done to him, only it seemed Theodore, unlike Draco, had agreed to join them.

Was that what had happened to Lucius?

He might have mumbled a thank you to the elf, but he couldn’t be sure. Draco was in his own world now, mind going over possibilities and theories. So when he turned to leave the Care for Elves building, it was credit to him that he didn’t jump five feet in the air when he came face to face with Granger.

“What are you doing?” she asked, hands on her hips suspiciously. 

Draco didn’t think he needed to answer, the look on her face told him she’d heard everything anyway. If he were in his right state, Draco would have gone off at her for being the nosy know-it-all that she was, but he wasn’t, so he used the Floo Network to go back to the flat without paying her a second glance.

He went to rummage through the pillows of the lounge for his wand; trying to remember the last place he’d put it.

Draco did not stop. He looked in the least likely places, under floorboards, the fridge, in cupboards. He didn’t stop once, not even when he heard Granger’s Apparition behind him some time later.

“Malfoy.”

He ignored her and did not turn around.

“I really advise you think this through. This is an Auror investigation. You can’t, you just can’t expect to find Nott on your own. And at this time of night!”

He strode past, shrugging her off when she tried to grab him, and went through her bookcases.

“This is suicide. I know he’s your friend, but going out in darkness potentially against five or so of them is not the way to go about this! Leave it to the Auror’s, Malfoy. You’re being ridiculous. Completely ridiculous, I can’t even – stop! You’re not going to find your wand there!”

Draco did turn around then, only to fix her with a hard look. “Where is it, Granger?”  

“I’m not telling you!” she said incredulously. “Not until you start acting rationally!”

“To hell with rationally!” he almost yelled. “My damn father’s gone, Granger! Gone! If I leave it to the bloody Auror’s they’ll never find him!”

Granger blanched. She had not been expecting that one. “I – I didn’t –” she stuttered, taken aback. “When did you find out?” she asked in a small voice.

“This afternoon. Give me my wand.”

“I am so sorry –”

“I don’t need your condolences, Granger!” he sneered, her pity somehow only making him angrier. “I need my wand! So hand it over or I swear… you do not want to piss me off right now.”

“You’re going to go back to the restaurant and search there for your father? Malfoy, what honestly makes you believe they’d still be there?”

“I’m not saying they’d be in the restaurant!” he said impatiently, running an agitated hand through his hair. “There’s a park outside it, across the road. All shops are closed at this hour so…” Draco stopped and caught himself in time. “Why am I even telling you this? Bloody hell, just let me leave!”

“What are you expecting to find there?”

Again, he answered her. “I don’t know, my mother said he was last seen out in London, very close to Padfree’s. And if you were listening back there with that E.T. look-alike elf, I’m sure you realise that’s also where Theo was last seen. Not to mention the park is notorious for suspicious activity. Now, wand?”

Granger hesitated. She looked highly doubtful and was clearly questioning his sanity. Twice her fingers twitched towards her pocket, where Draco was sure she’d stuffed his wand when he wasn’t looking, and on the third time she pulled it out. He closed the space between them and made to reach eagerly for it, but she put it behind her back.

“Granger –”

“I’m going with you.”   

Draco blinked. “What? Don’t be silly.”

“I’m serious,” she said levelly. “I’m coming with you or you don’t go at all.”

“Why in the name of Salazar would you want to visit a creepy park with me in the middle of the goddamn night? Are you out of your mind?”

“Possibly.” And she did not look the least bit fazed about that. “But you’ve been there for me. Each time with Ron you were always there and I know how much you wanted to leave, but you never did. And I don’t think I’ve told you how much I appreciated that.”

It took a moment for him to speak. He knew he was staring at her stupidly, but was uncontrollable to stop it. “Uh, yeah,” he stumbled at last. “It’s fine. But that doesn’t mean I like you or we’re friends, got it?”

Granger raised an eyebrow, but whatever she was thinking she didn’t say. “Got it.”

“But you’re not coming.”

“What! Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to have to be responsible for you.”

“You won’t,” she said quickly. “I can look after myself. You’ve been there for me, as much as it pains me to admit, so let me be there for you. I want to help.”

“I won’t protect you.” She didn’t seem concerned about this. He tried changing her mind again. “If you get yourself killed it’ll be your own fault. I’m not Potter or Weasley.” She crossed her arms and looked at him. “Every man for himself. That’s my condition.”

He waited expectantly, again, for her to back down. She didn’t, much to his chagrin. Draco groaned loudly and wondered when the woman had become so persuasive.

***

“Quick! Pretend we’re making out.”

“Excuse me –?”

But he had already grabbed Hermione around the waist and pushed his body against hers. Her back hit the tree with a muffled cry of surprise before his hand quickly covered her mouth. Malfoy’s forehead rested against hers, and his face was so close now she did not know whether or not to look into his eyes so she didn’t appear awkward or to just look around in case looking into his eyes made him think she was aroused.

Hermione was beginning to think maybe she shouldn’t have come along after all. They had arrived at the park, and true to Malfoy’s words, with the rest of the shops closed, it made the place that much darker and eerie. He was also right in saying they wouldn’t know what they’d find at this time, because they had found someone. A group, actually. All in dark cloaks and huddled together. Speaking quietly amongst themselves. They had been silently creeping up to get a better listen of what they were saying when one turned around. And thus the reason Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were pushed up against a tree together.   

“Granger,” he breathed now, his breath warm and minty. “Don’t look so horrified and grab onto me.”

With fumbling hands, she reached up and wrapped them around his neck. Oh lord… if Ron were here…

“Relax,” he whispered, his hands running slowly up her hips.

But Hermione couldn’t relax. Her heart was beating so erratically and loud in the freakish silence of the park. From not only the uncomfortableness of what they were doing, but from fear as well. What if they get cursed while their backs are turned? What if they capture and kill both of them? And then an even more realistic worry, what if they recognise Malfoy’s infamous blond hair?

Clumsily, her hands travelled down Malfoy’s shoulders and down his muscular arms before she pushed him, maybe too roughly because he grunted, into the tree so they had effectively swapped positions – her hair obscuring any onlookers view of his.

“I didn’t know you liked it rough, Granger,” he murmured, and there was a gleam to his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Amusement? She didn’t think so.

“Shut up, you dolt. I’m hiding you and your very obvious hair.”

Malfoy smirked. “With your own discreet hair?”

“Shh!”

They listened in silence. The talking had definitely paused now. They were going to die. Hermione made to shift and get out her wand, but Malfoy held her tighter.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “Just be calm.”

“Should we do something about…?” she heard someone say. They were getting closer.

“No, Rookwood,” someone snarled. “We’ve got to get the next one.”

Hermione heard several cracks but did not dare move. Only after three minutes had passed did Malfoy let go of her and both took a step away.

Hermione waited for him to say something, listening to the swings swinging in the light breeze, and when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to speak, she did.

“That was useless.” Her tone was not harsh.

“Not entirely. I got parts of the conversation.”

“What’d –?” But Hermione didn’t finish, because there was a cackle from behind the tree directly behind her.

Malfoy acted with admirable speed. In no time at all his hand had wrapped itself around her arm and pulled her back towards him. She thought back to his words, I won’t protect you, and wondered if he realised he’d just broken his own rule.

“Draco, Draco, Draco. With the Mudblood. How delightful.” Theodore Nott stepped out from the tree, his face half in moonlight, the other still shadowed. Hermione shivered and told herself it was because she was chilly.

“It’s great to see you after all these years,” he continued cheerfully. “Really, really brilliant. Even though you were eavesdropping, but I guess we can overlook that for the moment.”

“Theo –” Malfoy began, looking as though he didn’t quite know what to say.

“Ah, ah.” He waved a finger in the air. “You can’t just kill your friend’s girlfriend and expect to be allowed to call him by his nickname. That wouldn’t make sense, would it?”

Beside her, Hermione felt Malfoy’s shoulder tense against her own. And not only was it he who went tense, but everything else around them. It was so thick Hermione could cut it with a knife. She didn’t know what was going on, or what Nott was talking about, but somehow she could not help but remember Narcissa’s conversation in the restaurant across the street. Hermione felt as though she was intruding on something very personal between the two men, had the urge to block her ears and take a step away. Maybe take a seat on the swings a little further up just so she could stop them from swaying eerily on their own.

“Theodore,” Malfoy tried again after a moment. “You know that it –”

“But it happened, Draco.” His voice was calm, but Hermione saw the dark glint to them. “It was a war, I suppose. What kind of war would it have been if a few people didn’t die? It’s only…” He took a step closer, and another and another, another. Until he was right up in their faces. Hermione felt Malfoy push himself a little more in front of her, or maybe he just did that to not look afraid of the taller man. “I don’t think you really understood the point of the battle,” Nott almost whispered, black eyes watching Malfoy carefully, and then he said much louder, “You don’t kill your own side!”

Hermione cringed, but it was nothing to how Malfoy flinched. He sucked in a deep breath as if the words had physically wounded him.

When Hermione moved, that seemed to have brought Nott’s attention back to her. He looked her up and down like she were the dirt under his perfectly polished shoe, but it was not the same disgusted look he had thrown her in the corridors back in their school days. Somehow, this one was so much darker and so much scarier. She tried not to let her unease show, but she felt he could sense it anyway. Hermione wondered when Theodore Nott had stopped being the boy who quietly read in the back corners of classrooms by himself, always toddling after Malfoy, Blaise and Pansy with a longing to fit in somewhere. Because that’s all kids want. To fit in and feel accepted. She didn’t think Nott had experienced either. 

“Have you told her?” he was speaking to Malfoy, but his eyes didn’t leave hers.

Malfoy didn’t speak for a long time. His body twitched beside her, his breaths hitched and uneven.

“No.” The word came out in a breath, a long and drawn out one.

“Well then, Hermione,” said Nott, suddenly cheerful again. “Would you like to hear the story? It’s a good one, I promise you. Lots of murder on Draco’s part. Doesn’t put him in a particularly good light though, if I do say myself.”

“Nott…” Malfoy growled.

“Oh, Draco! I only said not to call me by my old nickname. You can use my first. We’re not strangers, you know.”

“I don’t have to hear the story,” Hermione blurted out. “Really, I don’t.” Because Hermione knew she would not like it. Knew she wouldn’t want to hear it.

Nott tsked. “From what I gather, you’re both living together? Fucking, I presume?”

Hermione grimaced at the crude word.

“So it’s only fair she knows, Draco.”

“I want to know what’s going on,” Draco said quietly. “What happened to you, Nott?”

He shot Malfoy an irritated look but otherwise did not comment on his use of the last name basis. “What happened to you, Malfoy? In the company of Mudbloods.” He looked at Hermione again. “I’d better watch out if I were you. He’ll kill you to save himself.”

“No.” She did not really know what she was saying ‘no’ to. There were so many things. No he wouldn’t kill her. No don’t tell her whatever it is he’s going to. No she doesn’t want to know. No she doesn’t want to be here.

Nott chuckled and strode away towards the seesaw, a bounce in his step. “He will, you just wait Granger. He’s already murdered a whole family.”

“Nott, shut the fuck up!” Draco raised his voice.

“No, I won’t.” And suddenly Nott’s tone was also hard. “I don’t even know why you’re here. Leave. You can eavesdrop on us all you want. Heck, you already know most of the places Death Eaters meet up anyway. But you’ll never, ever get your daddy back. He’s gone Draco, because lets not forget who he murdered as well on that faithful day.”

“SHUT UP!”

“How does it feel?” he asked coldly. “Knowing Astoria will never get the opportunity to referee a Quidditch game because of you? She’ll never get to fall in love, get married or have kids. Never graduate. Daphne and I were going to become teachers one day, bet you didn’t know that. That was her dream, to prove everybody wrong and show them that she could be something more than a pretty face. How does it feel to know you tore a family apart? Their father has no one. And lets face it,” he added after a moments pause, drinking in the expression on Draco’s face greedily, “you were always destined to screw up. We both know how your mind handles things when forced to make its own choices.”

Silence fell, only broken by the swings squeaking, or the far away sound of a dog barking somewhere off in the distance. The wind ruffled Hermione’s hair as she stared at the back of Malfoy, who had taken a few steps ahead. Theodore looked very satisfied with himself, and Hermione wondered how someone, who used to be one of your best friends, could take pleasure in hurting a former friend. Because though Malfoy was trying hard not to show it, she knew Nott’s words cut through him and hit exactly where he’d wanted them to. She also wondered why Malfoy hadn’t hexed him to hell by now. He’d never let anyone speak to him like that. Was he really feeling so guilty about what he supposedly did that he’d take whatever insult Nott threw his way?

“Are you ever going to come home? Return to Pansy?” he asked awhile after.

Nott’s expression shifted, his upper lip twitched, and for one wild moment Hermione thought he was going to hit Malfoy. But then he snorted and shook his head. “Doubtful, Draco. What we’re planning… well.” He clucked his tongue. “Let’s just say it’s going to be so much more rewarding in the end.”

Malfoy paused for a few seconds, Hermione assumed he was thinking of something decent to say to that, but he didn’t come up with anything and instead asked, “What are you doing with them?”

“You really think I’m going to tell you? I only stayed behind for a little chat, not an interrogation. It’s not hard to figure out though, and from what I gather, I think you already know.”

“And,” he swallowed, voice going up an octave, “my father?”

Nott simply grinned, but it was twisted and warped. They apparently had moved to a subject he cared more about. “Gone, mate. Did the only thing he could; it was either that or his life. But you remember what he did. Obviously he’s not popular with us. As for you, well… you’re in even worse trouble. Got away by a very lucky chance, didn’t you? Always slithering your way out of things. I’d watch yourself if I were you, Draco, you’re not in the good books with any Death Eater. You should have joined them again when you had the chance. But no matter,” he added absently, “you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

“Theodore –”

Nott took slow and deliberate steps towards Malfoy, who was watching him carefully. When the larger Slytherin spoke, his voice was calm, but it had all the malice of Severus Snape. “You killed my girlfriend, my girlfriend’s sister, and their mother. That’s not something to be taken lightly, and just know this Draco, the next time I catch you or,” he inclined his head towards Hermione, whom Malfoy had forgotten completely about, “that pet of yours,” he spat enough to have Hermione wince, “eavesdropping again, I won’t bother holding back the other Death Eaters. And you, Draco, will be responsible for another girl’s death.” He leaned back, the false cheery act back on. “I’ll expect I’ll see you soon anyhow, and when I do it’ll probably be to kill you both. Toodles.”  

He apparated with a crack, leaving a heavy silence in his wake, and Hermione could not help but think that Harry had been right all along: the disappearances were not random, the Death Eaters were recruiting themselves, and just because Voldemort was gone, did not mean all evil is vanquished from the world. And from the look on Malfoy’s face, he knew it too. 

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Next chapter; is (surprise surprise) quite sad. We learn what the hell Nott's ranting about and what really happened that day.