"So how is married life treating you?"

"You forget, I've been here before." Hermione picked up her cocktail and sipped it gently. She adored the strawberries, although she always felt that Hannah was overly generous with the alcohol. But it was a regular part of her Friday nights with Severus. The rancour and enmity of the years had mellowed to civility, then a particularly difficult case had drawn them together and they had found common ground that led to friendship. That, and Friday nights became their "decompressing" evening after a series of work disasters that had almost led Hermione to pull her hair out, and the only person she felt she could grumble to in safety was her sometime colleague Severus Snape. He at least would never let slip to the Head of the Department exactly how closely she had compared said Head to the end results of a white cat's indigestion at two in the morning on a freshly-put-on duvet cover. Which she had had to deal with that very day. Severus too had let slip that he appreciated spending time with someone whose sense of humour stretched further than Benny Hill reruns, thus the regular Friday night sessions.

Even their own recent marriages had not changed this. Both had made it a point of the agreements that they would be allowed to continue their own social arrangements, as long as it didn't affect their recent attachments.

"How does it compare, then?"

"Heathcote's actually rather sweet. He makes me breakfast on the weekends when he's home, and he does all his rehearsing in the special barn down the end of the property. He knew to let me sleep in when Daylight Savings ended – not that we're in the same bedrooms, but he was careful with the noise anyway. And he's quite artistic – has a sideline in really intricate pen-and-ink drawings for a series of poetry books that'll be coming out next year. He's an excellent cook, and he gets on well with Pyewacket. I'm pleasantly surprised." She paused then, carefully, asked. "And yours?"

"I had forgotten I knew Deidre before. She was one of my first students to graduate, and has been teaching at Beauxbatons for the last forty years. She's very good. Far better at educational theory than I ever was. We have our own interests, of course, but she consults me for ideas on what prior training and subjects would be best for Potions classes, and she's had some excellent ideas for me on some of the newer equipment." Severus stretched. "And we share a liking for very hot Balti. Our Thursday nights in are one of the highlights of the week, and I never thought to hear myself say that. This marriage arrangement actually has some benefits, as far as I can tell after a month. But who's behind it?"

"I have a bad idea." Hermione scowled – or maybe the alcohol had finally hit. "Possibly your ever-grumpy vengeful godson."

"Draco has improved."

"Not since he was widowed."

"What has he done this time?"

"Threatened to send me to monitor the St Callynch's tip for the night-time shift the whole of next month."

"St Callynch?"

"Remember the little matter of the dumped dragon bile? And the plants that started trying to creep out and take over the neighbouring canola farm?"

"Oh. Yes. Did they ever catch the wizard responsible?"

Hermione scowled. "Draco – I'm sorry, Department Head Malfoy – won't let me use any sort of detection, identification or even purification magic on the area. It's like he's on an austerity drive, and has been since July. Four months of his pigheaded rancour. I have my suspicions. I hear Scorpius has gone into the field of Potion Ingredient Supply, and somehow I don't think it's a co-incidence. No, instead we use up our entire overtime budget in damage control."

"And by damage control, you mean mutant plant culling." Severus finished his own drink, a strangely-lit glass of some green concoction, and stood. "Perhaps I should investigate whether the plants themselves have any uses in the Potions line as well. But I have to leave now. There's a small party at Slughorn's to celebrate his hundred-and-thirty-seventh birthday, and while I find him tiresome, he was one of the less annoying teachers. I don't suppose you'd like to …"

Hermione finished her own drink. "Already booked, I'm afraid. It's Rose's twenty-third birthday, and we're having a girls-only film night."

"Not her father?"

"Quidditch finals in Paris."

"Oh."

"We do still get on, but not closely".

He helped her on with her coat and walked with her to the door, then stopped and turned to her.

"We should have the pair of you over for dinner one night. I'd like you to meet her."

Hermione nodded, trying still to make sense of the way things had worked out. "I'd like that. I'll check with Heathcote to see when he's free. So – see you on Monday?"

"If I survive the party." Severus waved goodbye, then halted and pulled a package from his voluminous pocket. "Here's that hair-balm. See how that works, would you?"

"Thanks." Hermione stashed it in her bag, then returned the wave. He headed for the Leaky Cauldron and its floo, while she ducked around the corner and apparated to the gathering.

-0-

The next Monday, Severus decided to hand-deliver a file instead of sending it by the usual scurrying elves. It only took a couple of minutes before he was walking in the entrance of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and around the corner to Hermione's office. She sat at her desk, her hair tied up and held back from her face by a pair of hair sticks as she puzzled over the wording in what looked like a hefty scroll, and her smile of relief when she saw him was unmistakeable.

"Severus! Just what I need to see on a Monday. Too early for coffee?"

"It's never too early for coffee." He put the file on her desk, and a minute later they were walking into the nearby café which had prospered by aiming its custom at both Wizarding and Muggle workers in the area. She waited until he had set the pair of coffee mugs on the table, as well as a small plate of macarons, but she could hold back no longer.

"I was right."

"About?"

"Did you not wonder, Severus, why that Marriage Law was passed so very quickly? Why suddenly we each had to choose from such a small pool of available spouses and no excuses for not wanting to marry in the first place? And no allowance either for those whose preferences did not run to a Magick of a different gender?" She looked around, and slipped a sheet of paper over to him. "Read that, and see what you think."

She watched as his eyes scanned down the paper, then stopped near the bottom. "You're joking?"

"I wish I was. This American-based Wizard has somehow manipulated those in charge of Magical Law Enforcement. Their entire agenda seems to be to turn the British Ministry into a mirror of that ghastly Magical Congress they had over there a few years back."

"Where they tried to change all the rules to make their President a lifelong ruler by banning elections, disbanding all the independent courts and generally creating a dictatorship? But how does the Marriage Law come into play?"

"Well, I have to admit my hair's never been smoother, although I still need to use one of those wide-toothed combs on it. I can't get a brush through it at all." Hermione's voice suddenly leapt to a much higher pitch, and she dropped her handbag on top of the paper Severus was reading as she reached up and took out one of the hair sticks. He looked up in complete disbelief, then realised the reason for the change in subject. Walking past them was Rita Skeeter, still as much of a hack journalist as ever, and still always in search of any scandalous news she could get her hands on.

"Hermione! How is the Wonder Woman of the Golden Trio?"

"That's Department Manager Granger to you, Miss Skeeter. What do you want?" It was amazing how suddenly Hermione's normally friendly voice could turn to ice. Rita failed to take the warning, though. She leaned over Severus's shoulder and actually took a lock of Hermione's hair between her fingers and rubbed it.

"Feels greasy to me. Whatever you're using, stop." The reporter straightened up and wiped her fingers on Severus's shoulder, oblivious to his death glare. "Well, I'd better be going. There's a new set of Dress Robes in the Alley that I need to try on. Later, perhaps."

She sidled between two more tables, obviously looking out for more scandal, but finally left the café and headed off in the direction of Diagon Alley.

"Sorry about that." Hermione lifted her bag off the paper. "Couldn't think what else to do."

"I was wondering what you were up to, but that was clever. And your hair does look smoother. May I?" Severus reached out and felt the lock that Rita had been fondling a minute earlier. "But I'm afraid that for once in my life I have to agree with that Skeeter woman. For all that it looks good, I don't think this is improving its general condition. It is most definitely greasy. I take it my lotion hasn't helped?"

"Only that I was able to get a comb through it without too much trouble. But it goes limp so quickly afterwards."

"I have some ideas. Stop using that one, and I'll bring something on Friday. Which also reminds me – how is Saturday night for dinner?"

"Heathcote's between tours, so that will work well. Shall I bring dessert?"

"Excellent." Severus checked quickly around himself, then went back to the paper Hermione had given him. "Now – what's the connection with the Marriage Law?"

"Someone is using the Compulsory Marriage Law to weed out anyone who might be against the Government." Hermione pointed halfway down the page. "Anyone protesting, or requesting their marriage be terminated, or even refusing outright, is being labelled as a dissenter and an enemy of the Ministry. It's like when Voldemort's lot got in thirty years ago. Discredit the critics, imprison those taking a stand against it, then outlaw things on the basis that radicals are trying to overthrow the rule of law. Put your own types in the position of power, and you've got control of the lot. So we need to move now. But I'm not sure how."

"Neither am I, Hermione. But let me have a talk to a few people I know in the States, and we can discuss it on Saturday. And now, I think I should head back to my office. I can say there was a good reason for us to discuss the application of the new curriculum in terms of the established outcomes of the pedagogical inquiry …"

"And if you did, people would wonder if you've been working too hard!"

"Which reminds me - there's a lady who wears brooches according to the political issue of the day. I've never seen you with a brooch, but you do wear scarves. Would this be of use?" He slid over a small package, and Hermione opened it to find a scarf ring with an open book on it.

She burst into delighted laughter. "It's perfect! Thank you." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "And I have to run. I'll see you on Friday."

-0-

Alas, the usual Friday meetup had to be cancelled, as Hermione was called urgently to an outbreak of triffid-like growths from the St Callynch tip site. She ended up channelling all her frustrations on the foetid puddle of goo in the middle of the dump, using fiendfire to eradicate the problem once and for all. It worked, but the resulting paperwork kept her at her desk until far too late and she ended up messaging Severus by Interdepartmental Paper Plane suggesting a postponement as they were seeing each other the next night. Instead, she used the little she then had left of the evening to experiment with a combination of Sleekeazy's and Severus's potions – only to wash the resultant goop out the next morning as it resulted in an almost industrial level of oil dripping out of her locks. She and Heathcote arrived at the entrance to Severus and Deidre's cottage just as night fell, and were welcomed into the warmth by the couple.

Dinner was excellent. Potion Experts were apparently able to turn their talents to magic in the kitchen as well, and it warmed Hermione's heart to see Deidre and Severus work together in obvious harmony. She and Heathcote helped set the table, and the wine they brought complemented the ragout perfectly. But it was during dessert (and the delightful dessert wine) that Severus brought up the issue.

"Heathcote? I take it Hermione has filled you in on the efforts of certain people to try and gain power and influence in the Ministry?"

"She has, thank you Severus." Heathcote reached into his pocket and brought out a notepad covered in neat handwriting. "I've been doing some digging myself – I have contacts in the publishing industry – and I'm convinced that a well-placed campaign revealing the power behind the Ministry's move will have the Wizarding world up and demanding change before it becomes entrenched. The last War was thirty years ago, and the children then are the people in power now, so if we can tap into that zeitgeist we're well on the way."

"And of course our own children were brought up on the stories of the War. They take it seriously." Hermione had her own piece of paper out now, with a flowchart. "Not to mention seeing the disasters in America ten years ago and what happened to so many of their friends."

Deidre was nodding enthusiastically. "The staff at Hogwarts won't stand by and let this happen. And they'll help the current students get involved too."

"This is excellent," Severus said. "But I have a feeling we may be missing something. There must be a point at which all of this started, someone or something that set it in motion. An influence from the US. It didn't come out of nowhere."

"I'll see if I can work that out." Hermione was scribbling on her paper, her Arithmancy skills still as sharp as ever. "Although every indication is that even if the source was from the US, the linchpin is in the Ministry."

"Then we're the best to find that link." Severus started gathering the plates from the table as Deidre and Heathcote were comparing notes as to the best approach to engage the student population at Hogwarts and some of the other Wizarding schools that had opened in Britain. Hermione put her pencil down and picked up the glasses, following Severus into the kitchen.

"So?"

"He cares for you." Severus stacked the dishwasher carefully. "He likes you, and more importantly, he respects you. I have to admit you've been a lot less stressed since he came into your life."

"So true." She rinsed the glasses carefully and put them to the side – they were far too delicate to be put in the dishwasher. "Deidre thinks you're lovely, by the way. She told me she'd never thought of being married, but you've erased any concerns she had. And that's saying a lot. Now, shall I put on coffee?"

The coffee pot was on and some small but delicious shortbread biscuits on the table for the group in just a few moments. Heathcote had the basics of a disinformation-combatting campaigned mapped out in a few minutes, and he and Deidre were designing leaflets, radio advertisements and newspaper inserts at one side, while Hermione and Severus tried to narrow down where the main influencer was hiding in the Ministry.

"It has to be someone at a high level, but not necessarily at the very top. That would be too obvious." Hermione was slowly crossing names off an entire staff list. As she spoke, she removed a whole section, then looked up to see Severus's eyebrow rise precipitously.

"What?"

"Not the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office?"

"Weasleys do not attempt the subtle. It's just not in them, and at least four of them work in that area."

"Oh. Fair enough." Severus looked further down the list. "Surely it must be someone who prefers traditional values. If it wasn't for the fact that Dolores Umbridge died in Azkhaban twenty years ago, I'd be suspecting her."

"Almost too slow-going for her. The first signs were the slight changes to the wording of the laws for how to register your disagreement with any Ministry rules. It went from submit your disagreement in writing within 30 days to in person at a particular place and time – but that place and time was the always-locked back office, between 4:45 and 4:48 on the fifth Monday of the month. Then the frequent memos regarding the concern of the Ministry at the continuation of Purebred lines, even though most of them were no longer around. I mean, apart from Draco's boy Scorpius, and it's not like he's ended up with a Pureblood himself."

Severus looked up at her in surprise, and she grinned. "Isn't it true that most so-called Purebloods have some Muggle in their ancestry somewhere? So whoever was sending those memos was deliberately distorting the truth to put the fear into people that someone might try and raise up another bunch of Death Eaters. And as that's not a thing, which means that the marriages were for naught, then there must be something else that's being covered up instead. Some sort of group, or organisation, that wants the power over the Wizarding world. But that's all I can think of so far. "

"It's a lot to work on. We have to work out who is benefiting from having most of the Pure-bloods married off to others, and maybe from that we can work out what their real goal is." He yawned. "I'm sorry – I was up early this morning collecting the dew off the spiderwebs with Deidre. It's a good thing she came and woke me in time – the sun had almost dried it off before we got there. Oh – and I meant to ask – what did you do to your hair?"

Hermione looked to her shoulder where one of her errant locks was lying. Slumping, more like. As she watched, a drop of oil slid off the end and landed on her quickly-placed napkin. "Bother. Let me put it this way, Severus – never mix Sleekezy with any of your potions. I feel like I could replace the entire output of the North Sea Shelf just with what's coming off my scalp. I think I'm going to have to wash it for the third time today."

"Try some lemon juice on it." Severus looked at one of his own locks, still as lank and lifeless as ever. "Although probably we're the worst two to be researching hair products. If neither of us have found a solution by now … How are you two going?"

"We're set." Heathcote slid over a couple of draft pamphlets, and the layout of a banner to go on the websites most frequented by those in the Wizarding community. "Deidre has a friend working on the Quibbler website, and I'm sure Roger Davies owes me a favour or two. He's editor in chief at the Prophet now."

"Perfect." Hermione stood up and stretched. "We should call it a night, and meet up again next week. I'm free Thursday and Friday nights."

"Thursday suits me." Deidre pulled out a compact diary with a swirly pink cover. "And do we want anyone else to join us? I mean, this could get quite complicated."

"We should be careful. If we ask the wrong people to join us, things could get awkward." Heathcote helped Hermione with her coat, while Deidre pushed the chairs in around the table. "How about we bring the names to the next meeting, and we all decide if they should join?"

"Your husband has some damned good ideas," Severus said. "Here?"

"Our place." Heathcote opened the door. "At seven. We've got the whole rehearsal space available."

-0-

Next Thursday, Severus and Deidre apparated to the front of the eighteenth-century house that was home to Heathcote and Hermione. It had been in the Barbary family since the days when the main profession of the clan was piracy. In fact, one thing Hermione appreciated about her marriage was that she had the sort of house she'd always dreamed of as a child – large and old and sprawling, complete with a secret cupboard in the top room. She'd never used it before now, but for some reason she felt it necessary to put most of the working papers for their new group in the space, carefully sliding the wooden panel back so that it was undetectable from the other side.

Welcoming the two, she led them upstairs to the large room that had once been part of the Long Gallery.

"They're only temporary partitions, but they make it easier to heat the space. The whole Gallery is a pain in winter." The original leaded windows had long been replaced with sash ones, now curtained and holding back the Autumn cold. Heathcote was there with his laptop, and showed his obvious delight at the arrival of the others. Hermione led the others in, her hair covered by a paisley scarf, the better to hide the latest problem with the hair. It had formed itself into ringlets which twined around themselves, and there was no dealing with them without sitting down for an hour with a comb. "You two sit down - I'll go get the dinner. It's just a pie."

"Welcome! Severus, Deidre – lovely to see you." He swung his laptop around, and the screen showed a glorious moving graphic of a cage slowly descending on a group of witches. "This is the article that Luna has agreed to put in the Quibbler. We've submitted it to the Prophet as well, but haven't heard back from them yet."

"You don't suppose they'll reject it?" Deidre dropped a pile of papers on the table, and pulled one out. "I'm glad Luna's fine with it. I was going to ask Orla, but I'll save that favour for something else. Now – what's our next plan of action?"

Hermione found them hard at it when she came back with dinner. For the time being, they decided to limit the group to just the four. Deidre had a plan for posters and leaflets to be placed around the Wizarding gathering places such as the Leaky Cauldron and the Florean Fortescues, and Heathcote was considering a rally.

"But we need more proof of what the real reason is, and I'm not sure we have it yet."

"You're right, of course." Hermione pulled out her Arithmancy calculations. "I am having trouble getting a clear line of where the original concept came from. Here – what can you make of this?"

She laid a large piece of parchment on the table. On it lay all the different departments of the Ministry of Magic, including those connections that went out to the Muggle world. With lines around the suspected sections, others crossed out, and scribbled red arrows across many of the organisational layers, it resembled an attempt to make the 17th Century Spanish Monarchy family tree intelligible. The most prominent lines though seemed to link the Media Relations Office with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Muggle Liaison Bureau. But that couldn't be right unless …

"What if …" Deidre started then hesitated.

"No, go on. Any idea at this time is worthwhile." Heathcote leaned over and put his hand over hers.

"What if there's two people involved? If the impetus for all these new rules came from not one but two people in separate sections, working together?" Her voice was quieter and quieter as she said this, but Hermione almost shouted in her eagerness to agree.

"Of course! Look!" Hermione drew another two lines, linking the two red areas and passing through her own office. "That's the only possible answer. And it must be … oh. Someone fairly high up. I shall have to tread carefully, but I think I can work this part out back at the office. "

Severus was leafing through his own research in a well-thumbed neat folder in front of him. "We should keep this just to ourselves. I'm worried about getting anyone else involved. But we need to be able to contact each other quickly. Hermione, how was it that you were able to keep Dumbledore's Army together for so long?"

"I thought about that over the weekend. " She pulled out a small bag of coins. "I've made a new batch of these – if we want to meet urgently, we can activate our own coin and all the others will have the place and time of the meeting on them. I've made enough for a large group, but the four of us can use them to start with."

Severus stashed his in his pocket, made a note and packed up his papers. "Then we can test them tomorrow night. Hermione, I'm of two minds about something. Is it better, do you think, to have our regular Friday drinks to look as if everything's normal, or should we not be seen together much at the moment?"

"Drinks, I think. Look normal. Then we head here and you two join us?" Heathcote and Deidre nodded, and Deidre spoke up.

"Definitely normal. And besides, Severus always looks so less stressed after your Friday nights. You're good for him, Hermione. For both of them."

-0-

The next night, Hermione and Severus perched themselves at one of the tables in the corner of the Leaky Cauldron's new lounge. They would have sat in their usual seats in the front bar, but there had been a Quidditch match and the entire room was filled with orange-clad players and supporters celebrating a rare win by the Chudleigh Cannons. While Hermione still got on well with Ron, she really didn't feel like being forced to interact with him. The lounge was lit more dimly, supposedly to increase the intimacy of the ambience. Severus swore it was to hide how small the drinks were, but Hermione poked him at that and insisted on a second drink to combat the supposed inferiority of the drink size.

They were partway through laying down plans for the Sunday meetup when Hermione nudged Severus and pointed to a couple making their way to a secluded corner. One was unmistakeable – Draco Malfoy might be sporting a largish bald spot, but his hair was as brightly blond as ever. The woman with him, though, seemed quite overawed by the surroundings. She positively goggled at the floating lights, and when she thought Draco wasn't looking, she ran her hands around them to find the support structure. Her date – for it could only be that – ushered her into a corner booth, and was obviously looking around for someone to take his drink order. As his gaze slid over Hermione, she decided to take the bull by the horns. Later, she would blame it on the second drink, but right now it seemed like a good idea. She stood carefully, and made her cautious way over to the couple, followed swiftly by Severus, who was debating whether to stop her or abet her.

"Draco! How lovely to see you here!" Hermione stood in front of the couple, and tried not to let too large a grin cover her face.

"Weasley."

"Granger. Remember? I work for you? Divorced so many years ago I cannot count? And hello – you might be … ?" She held out her hand to the stranger, who took it willingly and shook well.

"Lisa Fugelli. Hello there – I take it Granger is your surname?"

"It is." Hermione took advantage of the friendliness of the reply to sit down beside the woman. "We won't stay long, Draco. Stop pouting. I'm Hermione, and this is Severus."

"Severus Granger?"

"Oh goodness no!" Hermione cracked up at that, and as she started to recover, the odd expression on Severus's face set her off again. A minute later, she managed to catch her breath and reply properly. "Severus Snape – he's a colleague. And Draco's godfather. And Draco? You have to order your drinks at the bar. So where do you know him from, Lisa?"

"We met at the theatre. And a gin and tonic, please." Lisa watched as Draco headed off, then turned back to Hermione. "I haven't met any of his other friends before."

"Well, I wouldn't say we're close. But are you from around here? "

"No, Fulham. I had no idea this place existed. And however do they do the lights? My dad taught me how to connect up a light setting, but these ones have me completely puzzled." Lisa touched the one above their heads, making it sway slightly. The golden light circled around the tabletop, illuminating the three of them and gleaming slightly off the elegant ring she wore. Hermione knew that ring. It had been on Narcissa's hands when Malfoy Manor was being used as a prison during the Wizarding War.

"Company secret, I think. They don't tell me, and I've been coming here for ages." Severus spoke up for the first time. "But when you're not hanging around with my godson, what do you do? Apart from cheering in the stands, that is."

"However could you tell?" Lisa laughed. She had a delightful laugh, quite free and unaffected, and Hermione was fairly sure she was a complete Muggle. "Yes, I support the team. It's sort of like a religion, isn't it? You can't really live in the area without being a part of that. Are you from that area? But no – your voice makes me think you're from the North."

"Little weaving town in the Pennines." Severus picked up his own drink. "I work down here though – chemical engineering."

"That's amazing. I'm just the accounts manager in a car dealership. But I have a long-suppressed longing to tread the stage, so I go to the theatre whenever I can. And Draco and I ended up sitting next to each other when the lights went out at the Corellian last July. I was quite frightened, and he was so lovely to me. We've been going out ever since. Thank you, love." She took the drink Draco was offering, and scootched closer to Hermione to give Draco room to sit down. "In fact, we're going to a performance of Long Winter's Winding tonight. We've got about half an hour before we need to head off, so don't feel you have to leave."

"No, I'm afraid Hermione and I are off to watch her husband's band rehearse. Apparently they have a new stage act and want to run it past us." Severus drained his drink and stood, followed quickly by Hermione.

"Your husband's a musician?"

"Yes, in a band. They're not bad."

"Who are they? What sort of music do they play?"

"The Weird Sisters. Sort of Emo, but with a classical bent. Shall I let Draco know when they're playing?"

"That would be lovely. I've not heard of them, but I'll look them up so I know what to expect. It's been lovely to meet you both." Lisa shook both Hermione and Severus's hands, and waved as they headed out of the room.

They arrived at Hermione and Heathcote's home with a quick but accurate Side-Along Apparition by Severus, who was concerned that Hermione might misdirect them instead into the middle of the Channel Tunnel. But when they walked through the front door, he was surprised by the sobriety she showed in comparison to the slightly-unsteady tipsy persona of a few minutes before.

"That was interesting." She had barely put down her bag when she had a pen and piece of paper in her hand. "I knew I was missing something obvious, and that was it."

"What was it?"

"Of all the unmarried witches and wizards in Britain, which rather prominent Pureblood seems to have avoided the compulsory marriages that we all had to submit to six weeks ago?"

"And he's dating a Muggle." Severus shook his head. "Lucius would be spinning in his grave if he knew."

They hustled into the rehearsal room, where Heathcote and Deidre were already working hard on a strategy document and a clear statement of their aims, ready to publicise it the next week. Hermione leapt straight for the Arithmancy documents and added Draco to the equation. It took less than a minute for her to sit back and stretch with a very happy smile.

"Got it."

"It was Draco?"

"I think he's the instigator. He must be the one who introduced the Bill to the Minister, and explained it so persuasively that the Minister thought it would be a good idea for all Purebloods to marry outside the Wizarding families." She pointed to where a bright purple line now snaked across the pages, circling the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and then trailing off towards the Media Relations Office. "And I can guess why."

Severus scowled. "Lisa."

"Lisa," Hermione echoed.

"Who's Lisa?" Deidre furrowed her brow.

Hermione's voice had the requisite sing-song as she replied. "Draco's got a girlfriend." She laughed too much, then coughed, and became serious again. "She's a lovely lady, and a total Muggle. Not even a Muggle-born wizard – a complete Doesn't-Know-About-Magic Muggle. And I think he's serious about her."

"And that would explain a lot. There is not a chance in Hades' Depths that Narcissa would let her darling son marry a Muggle." Heathcote shook his head. "Especially now that Scorpius is unlikely to have children – or at least not unless he and Albus adopt. She quizzed me about my background all those years ago, and we were only dating. Narcissa is out for more pure-blood grandchildren, and Draco wants to marry a Muggle, so he falls for the idea that if the Ministry insisted on marriage outside the Pureblood lines, he can use that as his excuse."

"I think you have it!" Hermione added another couple of lines to the equation, then jumped. "There's something else I have to check, but I may know who else is responsible. The only thing I have no idea about is where the American influence is coming from."

"Then we keep looking." Deidre was flipping through a list of Ministry officials. "You know, I might have an idea. Severus, are you free on Monday?"

"Sorry – the Ministry's sending me to Norwich to check those salt fountains. Heathcote?"

"I'm free. What are we doing?"

"I think the American influence might be outside the Ministry. Perhaps someone's newest best friend, or some sort of interest group. Anyway, I want to go through the Prophet archives, see if there's anything in the last six months that we missed, but it's a lot and I could do with a hand."

"Glad to." Heathcote nodded eagerly, and it warmed Hermione's heart that her husband was getting on so well with her friends. The group wrapped things up shortly afterwards.

-0-