Tense, Hermione played with the straw in her latte macchiato. Ron had been silent for a long time now, longer than he could normally hold out, and she could clearly see a steep crease forming between his eyebrows. She had expected this reaction.

"Why do you want to live with Harry but not with me?" he finally asked without looking her in the eye.

Hermione sighed. She knew from their time together searching for the Horcruxes how unsure Ron was whether she might prefer Harry after all. How could she make him understand that nothing had ever happened on that level between her and Harry? She let go of her coffee and reached a hand over the table to Ron. "This is not about what I want. Harry needs a roof over his head until he has found a place of his own. Am I supposed to abandon him?"

Ron did not take her hand, but let himself sink back into his chair, arms crossed in front of his chest. "He could also live with me."

Disappointed, Hermione pulled her hand back and ran her hand through her hair. "Sure. But you happen to be the big brother of his ex-girlfriend. The chances of her visiting you while he was living with you are pretty high. And that would be very uncomfortable for all of you, don't you think?"

Finally, he looked at her directly, but his expression was still dark. "You always have the better arguments; did you ever notice that? This is really exhausting."

"What?" Hermione stared in disbelief. "How can you blame me for this?"

Instead of an answer, Ron turned his gaze away and looked out the window. Annoyed, Hermione shook her head. It was so hard for her sometimes to deal with Ron's insecurities. She could understand that as the youngest brother of many, it was difficult to stand out as an independent man, and friendship with Harry, who after all had been famous from birth, had not helped. But it was really time for him to realize that she was with him and not Harry, of her own free will.

"I'm sorry." Ron sighed softly.

Attentively, Hermione looked at him as he slowly relaxed and turned back to her.

Doubtful, he continued, "I just wish ... I want to spend my life with you, Hermione. I've always wanted that. And ... I know you want your freedom and need space for yourself. I understand that, really. But sometimes it's just so... hard. And then suddenly you take Harry in, and I know how well you've always got along. And I know how guys tick."

A compassionate smile came over Hermione's face and again she reached out to him. This time, he grabbed her to massage the back of her hand with his thumb. As warm as possible she replied, "I know, Ron. And I am really grateful to you for being so patient with me. But really, trust Harry a little bit more. He's your best friend, he would never do anything to hurt you. And I certainly wouldn't. I'm just trying to help him take the breakup with Ginny a bit better."

With obvious difficulty, Ron returned her smile. Hermione closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his fingers on her hand. It was one of those rare moments of peace and quiet that she enjoyed so much in her being with Ron. And she prayed with everything she had that this was enough for their future together.

***

For the third time, Hermione leafed through the file that her secretary had put on her desk in the morning. She knew it was pointless, but she was not yet ready to face the inevitable truth.

The traces of the vase led so clearly to the Malfoy family that there was no next step but to seek them out. It had gone missing in the Middle Ages, but their hard-working staff had got their hands on records of black market auctions that recorded the sale of a vase in the 1950s. A vase which, from its external description, could be exactly the one that was missing.

She sighed.

Lucius was still in Azkaban for his deeds under Voldemort, but Draco Malfoy and his mother were out on parole thanks to their helpful actions. So, if she paid a visit to the estate, she would involuntarily have to deal with both of them. She dreaded it. Not only because she associated unpleasant memories with Malfoy Manor. She had only spoken to Draco once after the war ended, just before the hearing. She had promised him she would testify for him. Instead of a thank you, he just stared at her scornfully without saying anything back. His hatred still seemed unbroken.

Annoyed, she ran her fingers through her hair. Times had changed, she was now officially a ministry employee, and he had to talk to her if he did not want to be involved in the actions of his grandfather Abraxas Malfoy. He probably did not even know that he had a black magic vase in his house.

She decided to simply try an unannounced visit the next day. When people were not warned, they were more vulnerable and more easily revealed things they were trying to keep secret. And she knew that Malfoy had never been good at keeping things to himself when his temper got the best of him. Perhaps the mixture of surprise and hatred would reveal something interesting.

Or, if she was particularly lucky, he might not even be in the house tomorrow, so she could talk to his mother alone. Narcissa Malfoy was a surprisingly intelligent woman who knew how to keep her own feelings and opinions to herself when the circumstances required it. She would never become abusive towards her.