Hermione was sure she had never been in such a bad mood in her life. The two most important people in her life had thrown her into an emotional hole and, what was more, she was unable to carry out her current task for the Ministry. Why did Draco Malfoy have to be so difficult? She actually had no interest in playing any more games with him, she was too emotionally drained after the weekend.

She stubbornly stretched her chin out as she knocked on the door of Malfoy Manor again. If Narcissa Malfoy and her son were to try their dirty tricks again, she would lay her cards on the table today and get everything he knew out of Draco. Her patience was simply at an end.

"Ah, Miss Granger," she was greeted, much to her surprise, by the Lady herself. No house-elf opened the door, but the proud woman herself.

Determined not to be put off, she replied, "Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy, I hate to disturb you again, but I'm afraid my last conversation with your son was not satisfactory."

"Come in," said the older lady with an inviting smile and stepped back, "I have learned from Draco what has happened. The boy's just too wild. I don't know what's gotten into him. But rest assured, I have made it clear to him that I will not forgive further discourtesies to you. So, he will be cooperative."

Sceptically, Hermione raised an eyebrow, but she said nothing. Narcissa Malfoy was far too eager to please her and be kind to her for Hermione to believe for a moment that she was sincere. She hung up her heavy winter coat, then let herself be led to the library, which was obviously Draco's favourite retreat.

No sooner did the doors close behind her than she stepped energetically towards Draco, who was sitting in his armchair reading books and pretending not to notice her.

"Hi," she greeted him curtly, "Your game is up, Malfoy."

He deliberately closed the book slowly, put it next to him on an occasional table, and then looked up at her even slower. "What game?"

Impatiently, she snorted. "The game you and your mother are playing. I have no interest in being fooled by you any longer."

Elegantly, Draco folded his hands in his lap while he continued to look at her untouched. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Hermione just rolled her eyes. Without waiting for an invitation, she pulled a chair from a desk, placed it directly in front of Malfoy and determinedly sat down. "Fine, you innocent lamb. If you insist, I'll be happy to spell out why I'm here."

Hatred fluttered in Draco's eyes, but his voice remained calm. "I beg you. I can hardly wait."

Hermione took a deep breath, then bent over, elbows on her knees to look directly at Draco, so she wouldn't miss a single reaction. She was at least minimally prepared to believe him if he said he knew nothing about the vase. For now.

"Your grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, was very active in the trade of black magic items," she then began her explanation. "In our research, we discovered that he once purchased a particularly dangerous object at an auction. A vase, to be precise. After that, the trail gets lost, which is why we assume the vase is still in your family's possession."

A slight twitch of the corner of his mouth told Hermione that Draco at least knew that his grandfather was involved in such deals. Good. With renewed courage, she continued, "Depending on the type of black-magic object, owners are more or less willing to cooperate with our department. That's why I tried to approach the matter in a friendly and diplomatic way, to give you a chance to reveal the possession by yourself. But your mother's behaviour speaks a clear language: She knows what this is all about, and she will do everything she can to distract me and cover up the traces. The question is, Draco." She deliberately used his first name. "How much you know."

Uncertainty was reflected in his eyes, but he immediately regained control of his features. "I won't let you talk about my mother like that."

"Fine," Hermione hissed, "Said vase has some rather interesting magical properties. And we know of at least one incident here in the Manor that took place after the vase was purchased, which is most likely due to these properties. Would you like me to describe what happened?

Draco's face turned into an icy mask; his arms crossed defensively in front of his chest. "I can't wait to hear what horror stories you have in store for me."

A grim smile appeared on Hermione's lips. Draco would still regret his arrogance. Quietly, but with a firm voice, she explained. "When you fill this vase with flowers, no matter what kind, it develops an aura that has a strong effect on female beings. It is like a powerful aphrodisiac that makes women almost without will. In the past this was often used deliberately. And indeed, there has been an incident here on the estate. Your grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, had invited to a celebration, only for a few select guests - Death Eaters, to be exact. Many of these men were older, but they were all single. On the other side of the guest list were the daughters of important families, but their loyalties were not clear. Pureblood families who were not yet sure if they wanted to support Voldemort or not. But, as you know all too well, an invitation from the Malfoy family was always accepted. And though there was probably much suspicion, they were also instructed that the invitation was for the daughter alone, and that no one was to accompany her."

Hermione watched attentively as Draco's face grew paler. She wondered whether it was because he knew the story or the exact opposite. Relentlessly, she continued, "By the end of this ceremony, each of the older men had found a wife. Each of the daughters present ... and some of them were only sixteen years old ... each one was married. It's strange how that happened, isn't it?"

Triumphantly, she noticed that Draco's hands were now clenched in fists. With an almost devilish joy she explained the research of her department. "There was a daughter who had resisted. She told the ministry a very strange story. She told them that she hadn't felt well that night. That she could see that the other girls were not feeling well either. She swore that she hadn't touched alcohol, but she still felt drunk. The few things she remembered exactly were that she had slept with one of the men present. And she also knew that all the other girls had had sex with the men, right in the grand ballroom. Some of them had let more than one man have their way with them. All night long there was one big orgy. She herself said that she had had at least five different men, although she was a virgin before that. One of the men had asked her father for her hand the next day. Her father had said yes, no matter how much she resisted."

A slight nausea took hold of Hermione, a chill in her stomach that she felt every time she thought about the effects of the vase. A dozen young women had been exposed to the arousing effects of the vase that evening, and the men had shamelessly exploited it to have their fun.

She took a deep breath, then she continued, "All these girls lost their innocence that evening. And the Pureblood families, conscious of tradition as they were, were more than happy that the men actually wanted to marry their daughters. The whole thing was swept under the carpet and hushed up; the families were too ashamed of their daughters. Nobody cared that it was a mass rape using a black magic object."

Draco was so pale by now that Hermione almost felt sorry for him. She was sure that he did not know anything about these things - he hadn't even been born then and she could hardly imagine that his parents would have told him something like that while he was still a child.

She leaned forward a little further, put her fingers under his chin and forced him to look her straight in the eyes. "So, tell me, Draco Malfoy. Do you know about this vase?"

Reluctantly, he slapped her hand away, but shook his head.

"Do you want this vase to remain in your family's possession so that others may enjoy its effects?"

For a moment the corners of his mouth twitched, but finally his cold, repellent mask returned. "This is only speculation! Who knows why all those women really married those men!"

This was the reaction Hermione expected. She smiled sweetly at him. "Then it is only convenient for you to help me prove that this vase is not really in your possession, isn't it?

Draco stared at her with his mouth open. She could almost see the gears of his mind turning. Confident of victory, she added, "It's very simple: You help me to actually search the mansion thoroughly until I can't suspect a single thing against you anymore. If we find nothing, you can be satisfied that I was wrong. But if we do find the vase ... no charges will be brought against you, because you were ignorant and cooperative. Either way, if you help me, you'll win in the end."

A hateful blaze appeared in Draco's eyes. Full of fury, he jumped out of his chair, bent down to her and grabbed her throat with one hand. "You are the most despicable creature I have ever met, Granger! Do you enjoy kicking others when they're down? Do you get off on living out your power fantasies here?"

She choked and gurgled while his grip on her neck tightened. He approached her face up to a few centimetres, contempt lay in every corner of his face as he continued, "I'll show you everything, you can bet your life on it. I will prove to you that the Malfoy family never resorted to such perverse acts. And then you can look forward to a complaint for slander and coercion!"

Breathing heavily, he let go of her, took a step back and built himself up to full height while waiting for her to get up from her chair.

With trembling hands, Hermione rubbed her battered neck. It hadn't gone the way she imagined, but she probably couldn't really blame him. She would probably have reacted similarly if her family was charged with such atrocities.

Still. She had forgotten how unpredictable and aggressive Malfoy could be. A mistake she would never make a second time.

She nodded at him. "Then are you ready to show me your hidden cellar now?"