Chapter Thirteen
Terribly Involved

Mischief in Malfoy Manor?
by Rita Skeeter

It has been brought to this writer's attention that the Ministry acquired Malfoy Manor was visited by a team of highly specialized Aurors several weeks ago. The property was, of course, seized by the Ministry after the defeat of Voldemort. After initial investigations documented and relocated the numerous dark artifacts and other nefarious contents of the once lavish mansion, the ancestral home of the Malfoys was left untouched.

That is, however, until just weeks ago, when an alleged burst of magic was detected after two years of dormancy. While no official reports of the Aurors' findings have been made public, this reporter can confirm that something of magical nature was indeed retrieved from the manor. An anonymous source has stated that, "The magical presence in that wretched house could be felt the minute we stepped foot inside. I've never felt a magic in such a state of agony. No small wonder it was the Malfoy's home we found magic in such a pitiful state."

When further prodded for information, this reporter's source was unable to learn exactly what this item was. A house full of dark history, it comes as no surprise that something as pure as magic could be in such a state of pain.

Keep up with the story as it unfolds, because this Malfoy mystery is sure to be magnificently malevolent!

"Well, personally," Hermione sighed with contempt for the poor writing, "I find the excessive alliteration at the end a little over the top, even for Rita Skeeter."

Harry nodded grimly, tossing the Daily Prophet to the side. "True wonder they still buy into her. Though, I suppose the Malfoy's have always been a topic of gossip that gets people listening."

"Any idea of her, 'anonymous source'? They were clearly there, whoever it was."

"Not necessarily. The way his magic felt was enough to shake anyone. I wouldn't be too surprised if one of them needed to talk about it with someone. And that someone could've let something slip. We won't know for certain," the dark haired wizard said.

Hermione accepted that with a shrug. "There still needs to be a plan for addressing this. It's not going to go away. Have you come up with anything yet?

"Chances are no matter what we do, it's bound to blow up in our faces."

"The Aurors' finest, ladies and gentlemen," Hermione applauded teasingly. Her friend kicked her chair and childishly stuck out his tongue.

With her life slightly more on track than it had been the last few months, Hermione was considerably nicer to her nosy employees when they hounded her with more inappropriate questions.

"Okay, but you were there, right? In Malfoy Manor?" James quizzed her, eyes alight with wonder. Trying hard to pretend she wasn't interested in her answer, Lottie threw a glance over the shelf she was stacking. "And you said you found someone alive who wasn't dead. Who is it?"

"It's none of your business, you two. I'm not at liberty to say anyway. Everything has to go through the Auror Department, and they've yet to come up with a suitable way to announce it," Hermione scolded factually as she flipped through the paperwork at the counter.

"But it's only us, Hermione. You know we wouldn't tell anyone," James pleaded, sporting a ridiculous pout. His boss rolled his eyes at his dramatics and tried to hide her exasperated smile. "I can't, James. It's not my place."

Her place or not, she knew she had to tell Neville before he found the ghost of Draco Malfoy wandering their shared flat. Well, not an actually ghost, but that was sure to be Neville first conclusion if such a thing should happen. So far, she had been doing her best to make sure it hadn't.

James shook his head in a show of utter disappointment before his eyes took on a devilish gleam. With a knowing smirk, he countered, "Fine, if we can't get juicy details about the Malfoy investigation, can we at least get some about that insanely fit dragon tamer?"

Hermione took a moment to collect herself before saying, "I should have gone with my first instincts to never hire you."

In the last few days, Hermione had become closer to Andromeda Tonks than in the last three years she had known the witch. She found herself constantly flooing between her flat above the bookshop to the elder woman's quaint home.

When he was feeling his best, Draco would join the two witches for tea in her private garden. Seeing his progress was something neither Andromeda nor Hermione knew they needed until they were witnessing firsthand. So much had been lost during the war that it felt like a miracle to be getting something back all this time later.

While she had been making trips over to chat with the woman and Draco every day, it was almost two weeks after she had first called that they made another breakthrough.

She wasn't even meant to be there. Not at nearly one in the morning. But Hermione had been doing research, naturally, and forgotten her most important book at Andy's, as Andromeda had insisted the young witch call her. Having become nearly a third occupant of the house, Hermione knew it wouldn't be minded if she popped over to retrieve her missing tome.

Upon finding the sitting room empty of her book, Hermione knew the only other place it could be. She tiptoed her way into Draco's moonlit room, eyes scanning the dark for her missing book. It was just as she'd snatched it off her usual chair that it happened.

What started out as a low whimper grew into a tortured shout. The book fell forgotten to the floor as Draco shot out of bed, screaming into the otherwise calm night. She watched him gasp for breath, hand clutched over his heart, eyes wildly searching for something he'd never see. His shirt was soaked around the collar, and his hair hung limply over his damp forehead.

Before she could stop to think that she might scare him more, Hermione called out softly, "Draco?"

He shook his head, as if he was just imagining her voice. When he heard his name again, his hand fell to his lap and his brow scrunched in confusion. "Hermione?"

A hesitant hand found its way to his. Not because they needed the connection for the spell. Hermione was withholding that from him in an effort to make him use his voice. This time, the offered hand was purely a gesture of comfort.

He clung to it like a lifeboat.

"Not even going to ask why you're here," he panted, still shaken from his nightmare.

Hermione blushed fiercely. "Yeah, it's really embarrassing anyway."

They sat in silence for another minute. Finally, before she could ask, he said, "It wasn't a nightmare." When she didn't prod him for more information, he offered it himself. "I-I think it was a memory."

The weight of his hesitant statement had Hermione collapsing onto the side of his bed. She perched herself on the edge as she always did when she shared his space. He wasn't having her distance tonight, though. "I don't bite, Hermione. You can sit next to me if you want."

Which is how the young witch found herself snuggled, no, she couldn't think of it that way, sitting, beside Draco. The warmth of his body beside her was almost too much. Hand holding, to use a spell or otherwise, was enough to set her on edge with this boy she hardly knew. Tucked in right beside him with an admission like that was overwhelming.

"Do you want to talk about what it was?"

"Not really," he sighed, "But I should. I mean, they might help figure this all out. Right?"

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring nudge.

"He wanted me to kill Dumbledore."

His statement hung in the air for a long time before either of them touched it.

"Are you asking or telling me?"

"No," he said, hanging his head. Hermione's head rested on his headboard as she rolled her neck to take him in. "I know that. I remembered it. Or parts of it anyway. I knew that the last summer I can remember I was heading for something big. He'd already moved into the Manor. And he was so angry with my useless father…"

Hermione swallowed, unable to imagine living with such a madman breathing down your neck. "You were always bragging about things like that. You know, when he comes backs, you'll be his faithful servant and all that."

It was a hard thing to remember about the quiet, troubled boy she'd come to know. He had been truly awful to know growing up.

The confusion on his face was plain to see, even in the dim light. "Hermione, that wasn't all I remember."

"Oh?"

"I remembered him summoning me into the dining room. That was where he liked to delegate everything. I remember him giving me the assignment. That it was because my father failed at the Ministry that I had to do this task." His hands were resting in his lap, legs folded haphazardly beneath them. As her eyes focused in on them, she realized that they were trembling. Just like hers still did on occasion.

"I wasn't scared of that. I figured that was the path I was on. And I know the story from you. The failed attempts at-at killing Dumbledore, the Vanishing Cabinet that let the Death Eaters in. The part that scared me…the part that was the new memory…I didn't want to do it." He turned to her, his voice dropping low as he repeated himself. "I didn't want to do it."

At the blonde's stunning admission, Hermione suddenly found herself with an armful of Draco Malfoy as she stepped through her fireplace. Cursing herself for forgetting about Neville, she anxiously glanced around the living room before hustling the blind boy to her bedroom.

Heart pounding in her chest as she eased her door shut, she turned around to find a nervous Draco shifting from one foot to another in the center of her room. At that point, she wasn't sure what the most surreal part of her evening had been. Finding Draco in the midst of a nightmare, learning that he hadn't wanted to become a Death Eater, or seeing him standing in her bedroom.

Any of the above would have been enough to shake her. All three in one night had her doing stupid things like bringing the thought-to-be-dead Draco Malfoy to her flat. But when the boy in question had leapt out of bed and started pacing in a panic, she had been desperate to calm him.

When asked how to help, he'd simply said, "I need to get out of here. Go somewhere, anywhere."

And the only place she could bring a boy who was supposed to be dead without anyone noticing was her own flat. Minus Neville, of course. She made sure to lock her door. "I don't see how going from one small room to another is meant to help, but here we are. You're somewhere different."

Draco let out a troubled sigh and swayed on his feet. Not out of weakness but weariness. His physical condition was getting better by the day. He was nowhere near as fit was he once was, but he could walk on his own now at the very least. In that moment, he was just tired. Mentally and emotionally wrecked.

"I suppose it doesn't," he admitted. "Not when I can't see that it's different. But I've been trapped for so long. Physically and mentally. I can't see a thing, so I'm always stuck in my head. And because of that, I'm stuck in the same room in the same house. Just because I can't see it, doesn't mean I feel it."

And it was that late night bonding experience that lead to Draco Malfoy coming and going from Hermione Granger's fireplace like it had always been a perfectly normal thing.

After childishly avoiding Neville for as long as was still forgivable, Hermione finally accepted his offer of dinner. She bombarded him with questions about his new job with genuine interest, finding herself glad she was able to catch up with her friend.

"Enough about me, Hermione," Neville said, waving away her millionth question. "All I've done is go on about me. I know I'm not here nearly as much, what with Hannah and all, but I still feel like I never see you. And we live in the same flat!"

Hermione had the decency to look ashamed. "I've been somewhat avoiding you."

Neville wasn't expecting that answer or that level of honesty. "Avoiding me? Why?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

"So do you."

"I don't have the answers to yours."

At that, he nodded in fairness. "The only reason I haven't pressed you more is because you seem a bit happier. Bit more focused again. Care to expand on that?"

He received a thoughtful smile in response. "I might. But I'll have to get something out of it in return."

"Sounding rather Slytherin there, Hermione. But I'll bite," Neville said eagerly. He rested his crossed arms on the table, leaning forward to hear what she had to say.

"First, I want your help trying to convince Harry that he needs to quit the Aurors' Department," she said seriously.

Neville sat back at her grave request. That was far from what he was expecting. "Excuse me?"

"Don't you think he's had enough of this? Every time I see him he has some new injury or scar. And he's always trying to pass it off as a rough training day or just an accident. Neville, if there's anyone I know better than myself in this great, big, stupid world, it's Harry Potter. And when I tell you that this job is draining him, I mean it."

"He's never said anything before." Neville frowned. "Have you talked to him about it?"

"Of course. He used to wave me off, but I think he's starting to admit to himself that he doesn't want to be chasing after the bad guys anymore."

"What do you want me to say to him?"

Hermione's lips curled up into a sly grin. "There's a rumor going around that the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is open again next year."

She could see it on his face the minute Neville realized how perfect it would be for his friend. "I'll see what I can do. Now. Give me something. Anything."

The witch before him nodded nervously. She had to tell him eventually. In that moment, it felt like now or never.

"You've seen the Daily Prophet, I'm sure? Mischief at Malfoy Manor?" she began. He nodded with a confused frown. "Well, they weren't wrong. We did find something there. The source of the magic Skeeter's 'source' was referring to. And the project that I've been working on, the one that's kept me 'coming and going at all hours' as you said…well it's the same. I've been working with the source of the magic we found in the Manor."

Neville's doe eyes were wide as the moon and his mouth opened as if to speak before snapping shut again. It was a while before he threw together a sentence. "You went back there? To the Manor?"

And with that question, Hermione's heart flooded with a comforting warmth. Most people would have been dying to know what it was that they had found, but of course, Neville wanted to know how she had been returning to the site that haunted her.

"It was not enjoyable, if that's what you mean. But I wanted to do it. It helped me face some things. And to be completely honest, what we found there has put me on a different path. A very unexpected one indeed," Hermione explained, building herself up to tell him just what, or rather who, it was she found.

However, before she could, the kitchen lit up green as the fireplace flashed. Hermione's wide eyes met Neville's curious ones, and she thought she was too late.

It was not her secret blonde who stumbled into view but a very harassed looking Harry Potter. Heart still thundering away in her chest, Hermione slumped back in her seat as her friend brushed some Floo powder of his dark green jumper.

He flopped wearily into a chair beside her and wordlessly buried his face in his hands.

She reached out to rub his back in a comforting manner, shooting Neville a worried look, and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He simply shook his head.

"Work trouble or girl trouble, mate?" Neville wondered empathetically.

Harry's back stiffened under her touch on the latter. "Ahh, your mystery girl giving you some trouble?"

"Er, something like that, I guess," Harry mumbled miserably. He straightened himself up and shook it off. "It's fine, nothing really. Just overreacted. I'll go apologize. I know I was wrong. But I need to cool down a little first. Figured I'd rather do that here than anywhere really."

"Who are you? And what have you done to Harry Potter?" Hermione teased, trying to coax a smile from her trouble friend. "You? Overreact? I could never see you doing something like that!"

Neville jumped in with a smirk, "And admit he was wrong? Merlin, Harry! Should we check for Polyjuice or an Imperius, Hermione?"

The Auror couldn't fully contain the small smile threatening to spread at their words. A faint rosy blush softened his frustrated look until he rolled his eyes to the heavens. "Whatever, enough. I'm a drama queen, blah, blah, blah. I get it. What were you talking about?"

"Oh, nothing important," Hermione rushed, suddenly having lost the nerve to tell Neville the truth. "But I was just about to ask Neville how his second years were doing."

Hermione sighed in relief when he launched into a wild tale about one of his favorite students. She'd figure out how to tell him his childhood tormentor was not only alive but visiting his home almost daily.

As it turned out, she never did have to tell him.

One more afternoon of being harassed by her own employees about her love life and Hermione would explode. She loved James and Lottie to pieces, but she was someone who liked to keep her intimate thoughts close to her. They didn't need to know that her heart still needed to mend before it could attach itself to another.

So frustrated by their ridiculous questions, Hermione almost walked right past Neville sitting on the couch. She startled a bit when she caught his pale face out of the corner of her eye. "Merlin, Neville! You're so quiet, you scared me!" she exclaimed with a laugh.

Her laugh immediately died when she actually took him in. The formidable wizard looked like he'd reverted back to his anxious schoolboy self. He was staring at the fireplace with wide, fear stricken eyes.

"Neville, are you alright? You're white as a ghost!" Hermione observed. At her statement, his eyes flew to her face. Gulping, he stuttered, "I-I think I've seen one."

Twisting her brows in confusion, Hermione set her heavy bag down on the coffee table and made to approach him. Before she reached her friend, he shot to his feet. "Neville?"

The tall wizard backed away shaking his head. "When you said you found something in Malfoy Manor…you said it was something, right? Not someone?"

Hermione's heart dropped to her feet.

"Neville…" she said. She fell short when she realized she had no idea what to say.

"He's alive?"

"Somehow, yes," she confirmed, watching his anxious pacing with worry. "Look Neville, I was supposed to tell you myself. I've been dying to, I just never knew how. I was in the middle of telling you the other night, but then Harry came and I chickened out."

"Bit of a shock, Hermione. Wish you'd told me sooner. I could've been a bit more prepared," Neville exclaimed in a rush.

Hermione nodded in shame, though she was a bit perplexed. She supposed he would take this more personally than others having known the boy. "I knew you wouldn't be thrilled with the news, given your history, but it's something I'm very involved with."

"Believe me, I've gathered how terribly involved you are," Neville retorted with a raised eyebrow. Hermione was taken aback by his sharp response.

"I'm sorry if my involvement has upset you, and I know I should have been the one to tell you. I'm so sorry you had to hear it from someone else."

Neville's agitated pacing ceased immediately at her words. He stared at her with an unreadable expression. "Hear it from someone else?"

"There's so many rumors surrounding the search in the Manor, someone was bound to get it right sooner or later," Hermione said, not quite sure what he meant by repeating her.

"Hermione, I didn't hear it from anyone else," Neville said slowly. The usually calm and collected wizard threw his hands wildly in the direction of her room and shouted, "I just found DRACO FUCKING MALFOY ASLEEP IN YOUR BED!"

Before either of them could speak, the quiet creak of a door split the silence. The noise was followed by the appearance of a sleepy blonde in Hermione's doorway. Unaware of the incredibly awkward and tense situation his mere existence had created, Draco mumbled Hermione's name in a sleepy confusion. He rubbed his hands over his face in an effort to wake up.

A glance at Neville revealed that he was near ready to explode at the sight of a seemingly resurrected Malfoy. Especially when it seemed like the boy took absolutely no notice of him as he waited for Hermione to answer.

Hermione could see the exact moment Draco realized she wasn't the only person in the room. Suddenly wide awake and straightening himself up, Draco worried, "You're not alone…are you?"

Neville's look of outraged confusion morphed into something resembling more plain confusion that the wizard had to ask.

"No." Hermione's voice was small against the thick tension in the room. "No, I'm not."

A/N: Hey, at least it wasn't a whole year this time! That counts for something, right? Anyway, an immense thank you to the people still reading my stuff! It means so much to me! I haven't forgotten it, but you know how crazy life gets. Can't wait to continue this story! I actually have it mapped out (the first time I've ever done that in such detail), it's just finding the time to write!