Chapter Twelve

A few moments later, Hermione woke up. Malfoy’s eyes were open, too, she turned over to face the wall. Malfoy didn’t say anything, but she could feel his eyes on her back, it was incredibly uncomfortable. The sheets on his bed rustled, he must have turned over. She looked down at her watch, 7:41.

What the hell?

The curtains were drawn, so the room was still dark, but light was peeking in. How hat thy slept so late? She shot up from the bed, “Malfoy,” she hissed, looking at him, “Wake up.”

He turned back over, opened one eye, and didn’t sound at all drowsy, “What is it, Granger?”

“It’s 7:41. Wake up.”

Now he shot up, “Are you so stupid that you can’t wake up on time?”

“Go get ready, Malfoy, I’m calling Welby.”

He threw his sheets off and stalked to the bathroom. Hermione almost expected him to hiss and curse.

Hermione picked up the phone and dialed. “Hello, this is Arnold,” said a man with a nasally voice.

“Mr. Welby, I was given your name by a mutual friend.”

“Really now,” he said, “And who would this friend be?”

“Alissa Dorian.”

“I see. And why did Alissa give you my name?”

“Las Brujas.”

H sucked in a breath, “I’ve told Agent Dorian and now I’ll tell you, I have already given her everything I know.”

“I don’t work with Alissa, she just gave me your name. Please meet with me.”

“What’s your name?”

“Laura Jones.”

“I can meet with you for an hour at nine AM.”

She told him the name of their hotel and asked him to meet them in the lobby. He agreed.

Malfoy came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Put a shirt on, the glare from your chest is going to blind me.”

“You were looking at my chest?” He smirked like he’d won a point in their game of wits.

“You’re so radiant, I thought you were a fluorescent light.”

“What, do I not have enough scars to meet your standards?”

Now, she was lost, “What are you talking about?”

“You fucked Scarhead, but my chest makes you cringe.” He met her eyes and she knew that he hadn’t meant to say it.

“Welby s meeting us in the lobby at nine, he thinks my name is Laura Jones. I didn’t tell him about you, just pick a name and tell it to me, I’m taking a shower.”

At five to nine, they went downstairs. Welby was waiting. “Mr. Welby?” asked Hermione, he nodded, “I’m Laura. I’m sorry that I didn’t mention him earlier, this is Jake Mallory. If you don’t mind, w have a room upstairs where we could speak privately.”

“That would be fine.”

They went back upstairs, there were three chairs in the room. Malfoy and Hermione sat next to each other, facing Welby.

“I take it that you know the…truth of Las Brujas?” asked Welby.

“We do,” said Malfoy. “And we’d like to know exactly how you know about them.”

“My family was destroyed by their members.” He paused and looked each of them in the eye, “I am not like the remnants of my family.”

“They’re wizards. Aren’t they?” asked Hermione.

“Yes, I am what is called a squib. I can’t do magic.”

They nodded, “We’re aware of what squibs are, Mr. Welby. But let’s get to what we’re here for. Las Brujas.”

“About five years ago there was a war.”

“We don’t need a history lesson,” said Hermione, “We know about Voldemort.”

“Alright, well, his followers, the Death Eaters, were not all captured or killed when he was defeated. Some were acquitted of their crimes, others remain at large even today. Many of the higher ranking members formed a new group, Las Brujas.”

“Do they hold to the tenants of Voldemort’s regime?”

“More or less,” he paused, “They want a new order in which they rule. The biggest difference, I suppose, is that thy are willing to let Muggle-borns work for them.”

Hermione felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. “Do you have a list of names?”

“I can write one out, have you a sheet of paper and a pen.”

Malfoy handed him the requested items.

Welby scribbled down names for the better part of five minutes. Finally, he folded the sheet in half and handed it to Hermione. “Is there anything else you need?”

“No,” said Malfoy, “Thank you for your time.”

Everyone stood up, shook hands, and Welby left. As soon as the door closed, Hermione sat down and looked at the list. “Finally,” Malfoy said, “Well, Granger?”

She sat very still and said quietly, “Nott, Hartinger, Parkinson, Bonfleur, Vuloff, Lestrange,” she paused and met his eyes, “Malfoy…Granger.”

Malfoy sat down, “I guess we don’t have to look very far for Las Brujas. It’s Bellatrix?”

“Yes, you precious is on the list. Along with many of your former housemates.”

“Come off it, Granger. If you would stop to think even for a minute, you’d realize that this is actually really good news!”

“I do realize that! Don’t you get it, I knew we were working for the enemy, but now I have proof. This practically makes me a Death Eater.”

Malfoy grabbed her shoulders, “No, it doesn’t. You’re still a good guy, still a Gryffindor, and you’re still Harry Bloody Potter’s best friend. Snap out of it!”

And that did it, she looked up at him with fire in her eyes, “Don’t touch me.” She stood up and started pacing, “Bellatrix was high ranking.” It wasn’t a question, but Malfoy nodded anyway. “She’s the leader, it only makes sense that one of Voldemort’s lieutenants would lead the new order.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

“Are you in contact with her?”

He looked scandalized, “Why, Miss Granger! Bellatrix Lestrange has been in hiding for over five years. How would an upstanding citizen like myself be in contact with a fugitive like her?”

She actually smiled, “Can you contact her?”

“I can.”

“Will you?”

Partners, Malfoy knew, couldn’t do everything together. But he did not want to face his aunt alone. They were partners, though. “I’ll need to go to the Manor and speak with my mother. I’ll probably meet with Lestrange this afternoon. We’ll meet at King’s Cross at 6:00. If I’m more than ten minutes late, I’m not coming.”

Hermione nodded in understanding. The Malfoy’s were a dangerous family and Draco was more than aware of that, after all, he was one of them. “Good luck,” she said.

He wasn’t expecting to hear that, “Thank you.” And then he was gone, apparated away to see his mother, and, more importantly, his aunt.

Hermione looked at the list again, Welby’s writing was sloppy, so she transferred it to a new sheet, putting the names in alphabetical order, she decided that wasn’t good enough, so she put them in order of their suspected ranks.

Finally, she set out separate sheets of paper and wrote all of the names separately, one per sheet.

Katrina Hartinger, pureblood witch, 43, unmarried, one
daughter. Suspected of Death Eater activity. Brought to
Trial March 4 of last year, acquitted.

That was all Hermione knew about her. There had been so many Death Eaters, so many trials, that there was no way she could remember them all, just the ones that affected hr life, like Bellatrix Lestrange and Nott.

But there were more names than just Lestrange, Nott, and Parkinson. She hadn’t even read the whole list. Welby had given them twenty names, she knew five, including Malfoy and herself.

It had been so much easier when she could just run down to the library at Hogwarts and research those thousands of books. Now, she had to take a trip to Flourish and Blotts.

The wizard’s bookstore was much the same as it had been when she was eleven years old. However, she hadn’t seen it as full as it was since Gilderoy Lockhart made an appearance before her second year. Then she saw a sign: “Harry Potter Visits for the FIRST TIME in Five Years!”

Well, that explained it. Harry may have been her best friend, but she really couldn’t see him today. She grabbed three books about Death Eaters, paid, and apparated back to the hotel.

It was 12:41. She had six hours until Malfoy came back with whatever his aunt would tell him. She opened one of her Death Eater books for information about Henri Bonfleur.

Born in Nice, 1957, wife, Marie, deceased, 1994, two children,
Henri and Jacques, both Head Boys at Beauxbatons. Suspected
of torturing Muggle children and killing Muggle adults. Acquitted
due to insufficient evidence.

Hermione slammed the book shut, sometimes the wizarding justice system wasn’t fair. After the fall of Voldemort, many of the former Death Eaters hadn’t been killed or sent to prison because of politics. To many sympathizers had power in the Ministry, they made sure the actual followers weren’t punished to harshly. Most just paid fines. She continued to read through the first book, making notes whenever she encountered a name on the list. Most of the former Death Eaters had been leaders of certain sects of followers, others had been lieutenants.

There were only two names on her lists that weren’t in the Death Eater books, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

It was 2:30. Hermione was done with the first book and well into the second. This books was almost glorifying the Death Eaters. It was like a text for the religion of Voldemort. She hadn’t seen the word ‘Mudblood’ so many times since she was in school.

She flipped through the rest of the books and was glad to put it down. It was 3:13. She’d been looking at her books for three hours, Malfoy had three more to gather his information. She needed to keep working. Malfoy was a professional, he’d be fine.

There was one last book: British Purebloods and Their Loyalties. Lucius Malfoy was on the first page. Ten of the twenty names were in the book, but Draco only had a paragraph dedicated to him.

Over the past five years, Draco Malfoy had become a mystery. He’d simply disappeared from the books after Hogwarts. It was 4:45. Malfoy had less than an hour and a half left. She kept reading the book, at 5:45 she apparated to the train station.

He wasn’t there, but she didn’t expect him to be early. At 6:05 she admitted that she was worried. By 6:09 she was almost panicking.

“Miss me, Granger?” Malfoy was standing in front of her, smirking.

She slapped his arm, “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“You’ve finally caught onto my evil plan. Damn, I thought I could hide it.” They both laughed. Then, realizing who they were with, stopped abruptly.

“No one followed you?”

“No.”

“Then let’s go back.”

Once they arrived at their room they sat in the chairs. “So?” Hermione finally said.

“Aunt Bella offered me a position as a trainer. It pays about five times more than I’m making now and there’s very little danger involved.”

“Did you accept?”

He was quiet for a moment. “No, how can I give up the wonderful company my partner provides?”

“I’m sure. Did you find out anything useful?”

“Another list of members, the history, the justification, headquarters,” he paused and met her eyes, “All in all, the trip wasn’t very helpful.”

She rolled her eyes, “Obviously not a fruitful venture. Are you going to tell me the specifics, or are you just going to let me guess?”

“I should probably make you pay for it.” He mused.

“How very Slytherin of you.”

“But I’m feeling generous today. We’re going to Zurich.”

“People love to hide in Switzerland,” she muttered.

“What?”

She shook her head, “Nothing important. When are we going?”

“As soon as possible, but we need a plan. I doubt we can just walk in to their building and ask them to stop being evil.”

“Well, what if we’re really polite about it? You really don’t think that will work? Why not, I’m sure their really nice people, just misguided.” His jaw actually dropped.

“Granger…” Hermione laughed.

“I know that these are bad people, Malfoy. Do you know how many people are in Zurich?”

“Somewhere between eighteen and thirty. More if they’re training people. So, can you take care of between nine and fifteen or more highly trained killers by yourself?”

“Can you?”

“If they stand still in a line and let me pick them off one by one, then yes.”

“We need another person,” Hermione suggested slowly, “Probably two. I can take three or four people at once, I have before.”

“Not him,” he didn’t need to say who he was talking about.

“Why not? He’s about as experienced as they come when fighting evil.”

“I don’t trust him, not at my back.”

“Well, I don’t trust you, but it’s not stopping me.”

“We don’t need Harry Potter to fight Las Brujas.”

“Yes, Malfoy, we do.”