Chapter Twenty-Three

Draco

A trail of dust follows me due to my heavy footsteps as I approach Hogsmeade's entrance. The crowd has grown significantly in the hour that I have been gone, but I am hoping Harry will still be in The Three Broomsticks. I shove my way through the plethora of people, trying to locate the restaurant. I also keep an eye out for Hermione, although I know I will not find her.

When I barge into The Three Broomsticks, there are many people seated. However, I don't see Harry, Ron, or the rest of their crew. I scan the room frantically. Madam Rosmerta walks over, eyeing me curiously.

"Can I help you?" She asks with a bit of edge to her voice.

"I'm looking for someone-" I stop talking as her eyes widen.

"Oh, no, I'm afraid you won't find anyone in here. Not a soul." She says nervously, pushing me out of the door.

"I believe I'm looking at plenty of souls, actually. Now can you help me find one?"

"I haven't the time for this! Far too busy... Lunch rush. We're understaffed."

"Have you seen Harry Potter?!" I yell, and the place silences. Madam Rosmerta looks exasperated.

"He just left, around fifteen minutes ago! Now does that answer your question?"

"Obviously," I turn around and exit the restaurant. The door slams harshly behind me.

Where would The Boy Who Lived go on his day off? I read each store sign until I realize that he and his entourage, which includes the food-loving Ronald Weasley, would be at Honeydukes. I walk into the candy shop and search for them once more. Finally, I see Ron's fiery red hair on the other side of the room by the pumpkin pasties. I run over to them.

"Harry!" I shout, breathless and he turns around, alarmed. He notices the worry and anger in my face and walks toward me.

"Did you find her?" He asks as Ron approaches behind him.

"No... No, I searched the whole castle. I used your fancy map and everything. I looked in our common room and in the, ah... Room of Requirement. Nothing." I explain, my heart aching with every word.

"Secret pathways and such? Did you check them?" Ron asks, his face waning.

"I checked everywhere Hermione knows of. Nothing. Not even a trace." As I say this, Ginny appears from behind me.

"What's going on?" She inquires, looking at each of us. She examines each of our expressions cautiously.

"Hermione's missing." I tell her, and Ron begins to speak.

"Well, I mean, maybe she was in the kitchen talking to the house elves, or maybe she is in one of these stores. Surely she has to be here somewhere."

"I told you! McGonagall and I have looked everywhere for her. She's not here! She's gone!" I exclaim, frustrated. I throw my hands up and I sigh exasperatedly before walking out.

Now I am, once again, pushing my way through the crowded street, but I am scanning for a different face: McGonagall. I meet almost every person's gaze as I search desperately for her. From a distance, I see Professor Flitwick looking around skeptically before entering The Three Broomsticks. I decide to follow him.

I catch up to him about a minute later; he is quite fast for such a small man. He is almost running up the stairs, and I stay behind him, careful to remain in the shadows. Finally, he reaches a door, and it opens upon his arrival. Before it closes, I slip inside quietly. Thankfully, no one notices me.

In this room, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, sits in a throne-like chair, with McGonagall beside him, twiddling her fingers nervously. I stand in the corner, behind a bookshelf that was conveniently not completely against the wall.

"Pleasure seeing you again, Filius, even if it is under these circumstances." Shacklebolt greets him, and Professor Flitwick gives him a curt nod. McGonagall begins to speak.

"I assume we all are aware of the incidents that have happened today?" She says, and both of the men nod their head. Shacklebolt takes out a piece of parchment and a quill, which I assume is to take notes on the situation.

"Hermione Granger is missing," He states, and the quill begins ferociously writing, "after some suspicious activity in Hogsmeade today."

"Indeed. A few hours ago, I asked her to keep watch on the students here. When I came to dismiss her, she was nowhere to be found. Madam Rosmerta, coincidentally, was deeply concerned about an old Caterwauling charm being set off, one set specifically for evil forces."

"But who would the evil forces be working for? You-Know... well, Voldemort is dead, we all know that." Flitwick chimes in.

"No idea," McGonagall shrugs, "but I believe we all agree that they do not have good intentions."

"Of course not, stealing the Head Girl... What do they want? Did they leave a ransom note, perhaps?" Flitwick asks.

"No, Filius, I don't believe that's how these people work." Shacklebolt explains. At that moment, an owl begins to tap on the window. With a wave of his wand, the Minister opens it, and the bird flies inside, dropping a letter onto the floor. Before it flies out once again, I see its yellow eyes land on the bookcase. I try to make my breathing as soundless as possible, but it spreads its wings and flies directly into the bookcase. Everyone in the room looks confused, but as the bookshelf teeters back and forth, I know exactly why the owl did that. With a loud thud, the bookshelf falls to the ground, and the owl flies out of the window, leaving me perfectly exposed.

McGonagall rises from her seat, and I can almost feel the fear bubbling within me. She doesn't say a word as she comes to stand before me, but I barely mutter out an apology. The expression in her eyes changes from rage to sympathy.

"I do not appreciate you spying like this, Mr. Malfoy, but I understand why. Come on, take a seat." She says in her motherly way. Neither the Minister or Professor Flitwick say a word.

"Miss Granger means a great deal to Mr. Malfoy, so I think it's only fair for him to know what is going on." McGonagall explains. Since I had been revealed, Shacklebolt had forgotten about the letter on his lap. He opens it carefully, and we all wait anxiously for him to read it. His eyes widen, narrow, widen, then narrow again as he takes in what he is reading. He takes a deep breath, folding the note meticulously and putting it back into the envelope.

"That letter was from Johnston Meyers, the new head of the Aurors. Apparently," Shacklebolt looks at me, "Lucius Malfoy has escaped from Azkaban without notice." I draw in a sharp breath, and I can feel myself becoming weak.

"However," He continues, "when they found him, he seemed as if he was waiting on them. He did not fight his arrest, nor did he say how he escaped. He is now back in Azkaban, so it seems that we have come full circle."

"Minister... when did all of this happen?" Flitwick asks.

"He was arrested just a couple of hours ago. But when he escaped? Well, who knows. He could've been gone for a week." He puts his head in his hands, but McGonagall looks straight at me- well, at my arm.

My arm. My arm was injured less than a week ago. Before I passed out in the Hospital Wing, I had seen my father's face. I had heard, before the searing pain made everything go blank.

"It was him!" I yell, only slightly too loud, "He did this to me!"

McGonagall's face shifts into an expression of compassion towards me, and then she looks at the Minister and asks, "Do you believe that, by any chance, these events could have been... linked, in some way?"

"Headmistress, not only do I believe it, I know they are," He answers before standing up abruptly, "I believe our meeting is dismissed. Should I discover anything, I will contact you. Good day." And with that, the Minister of Magic Apparates out of the room.

My heart and mind are racing, and I am filled with a rage that I have never felt before. I head for the door, my feet stomping so harshly that I am surprised I haven't created a hole in the floor.

"Mr. Malfoy!" McGonagall calls after me, and I only spare a second to look behind me.

"I have to go." I say, trying not to show my anger in my voice, although my hands are shaking with it.

"No, you must stay. This is where your duty ends. Now it is the sole job of the Minister and his Aurors."

"You expect me to just sit here and wait on him to make another move? I know him! I know him better than anyone! He won't stop. He won't stop until I'm dead! Or worse... until is!" I try to exit, but Flitwick is standing behind me. I look down at him, anger surely evident in my eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall calls again, and I look at her once more.

Her wand is drawn, and the tip of it glows light blue. Suddenly, my anger fades away, and I feel unusually calm, more calm than I have been in years...

* * *

Hermione

I am cold and empty. My head throbs, and I wonder if I will ever be happy again.