Hogsmeade and all of it’s surrounding areas, including the Shrieking Shack, had been thoroughly searched. There had been not one sign of Hermione or Luna anywhere. After Madam Puddifoot was awakened, Ministry Aurors were able to get at least somewhat of an account as to what had happened. Lucius Malfoy, heavily disguised, had put Madam Puddifoot and her Christmas elf helper under the Imperius Curse. Before doing so, she had heard Lucius muttering under his breath about getting a hold of those meddling females. Unfortunately Madam Puddifoot was unable to recall any events that took place while she was under the curse. When she had come around and before Lucius had locked her up and Stunned her, Madam Puddifoot had seen two things. The first was the Killing Curse used against her Christmas elf helper. The second was to see a ferocious-looking hulk of a man scoop up the two unconscious girls and Apparate away, leaving Lucius to deal with her. She’d been told many times that day that she was lucky to have been left alive.

Of course Aurors and Order of the Phoenix members were out searching, but it was as if Lucius Malfoy had dropped off the face of the earth.

Back at Hogwarts, Draco sat quietly fuming in a corner of the Slytherin common room. All of the Slytherins who were in the Order of the Dragon were with him, trying to give all the support they could.

Pansy Parkinson stalked menacingly over to their corner. “Oh poor Drakey Poo lost hims little freaky girlfriend. Now he will be so lonely,” she taunted, talking in baby talk.

Draco didn’t even look at her as he spoke. “Pansy, if I were you, I’d watch my mouth before I got my foot caught in it.”

A look of mock horror crossed Pansy’s face. “Oh no, Drakey Poo, I’m so scared! Did your daddy take your freaky little girlfriend away? You do know that’s what she is, right, Draco? Nothing but a big, fat,-AHHHH!”

Pansy’s tirade was cut short by several hexes that hit her all at once, all seeming to have come from the corner of the room where Draco and the other Order members were. Pansy now found herself bald, fat, with warts covering her face, and unable to speak anything but pig Latin.

“Ouyay arehay eadday, Acodray! Oday ouyay earhay emay? Eadday!”

Blaise shook his head. “You know, I don’t think pig Latin suits her. How about this?” he asked, again flicking his wand at Pansy.

“Yo soy gorda,” Pansy wailed, now in Spanish. “Donde esta mi madre? Madre!”

Pansy turned and fled as fast as her fat legs could carry her. “Nice job, mates,” Blaise said, congratulating everyone.

Draco looked like he was about to say something when a scared-looking first year approached him. “Mr. Malfoy, sir?” the boy said, holding out a letter. “My owl just delivered this to me but it has your name on it.”

Draco anxiously snatched the letter from the boy, sure it was from his dad. Again, his instincts didn’t let him down.

Draco, I was feeling a bit bored so I decided to borrow you and Weasley’s little wenches to keep myself amused. Oh and they are amusing. Enclosed you’ll find a photo we took just a bit ago. I hope you enjoy it. Lucius

Draco pulled the photo out of the envelope. When he saw it he found himself quaking. Whether it was out of fear for Luna or anger at his father, he didn’t know.

The photo clearly showed Luna and Hermione each chained to a marble block. Both blocks were propped against a stone wall. Both of the girls appeared to be unconscious. Suddenly a figure stalked in from the edge of the photo. This man was tall and hulking…and dangerous. Slowly he walked past each of the girls, pausing by Luna. An evil grin spread over his face as he reached out and stroked her cheek.

“No!” he yelled at the photo, finally noticing that there was a note attached to the bottom edge. His eyes quickly scanned the parchment.

What do you think of my watchdog? Get it? Watch…dog? Now here is the deal, Draco my boy. I am watching you. Always. If you or Weasley try to find these girls, I will know. If you try to find them, I may just decide to let Fenrir have a little taste of one or both of them. I will summon you when the time is right. For now, don’t worry. I’ll take special care of your ‘pet’. L.M.

“I’ve had a letter from my father,” he explained gravely. “He sent a picture of Luna and Hermione.”

Ron quickly jumped up, crossing the room and inspecting the photo Draco held out. “Who’s that bloke in the picture with them?” Ron asked, barely able to contain the rage he felt as photo Fenrir touched Hermione’s face.

Draco frowned. “I’m afraid that’s Fenrir Greyback. He’s an associate of my father’s and…a werewolf.”

“A werewolf?” Ron asked, grabbing Draco by the arm and heading for the door. He didn’t even stop to think that they had no idea where the girls were. “We’ve got to go after them!”

“Wait, Ron,” Draco said, stopping short. “We can’t. Somehow, he’s having us watched. If we go after the girls, Fenrir here gets to bite them. If we go after them before my father summons us…they could be turned to werewolves.”

Ron collapsed into a heap on the floor. “Well then what in the bloody hell are we supposed to do? Sit around doing needlepoint?”

“If Zeppie isn’t being too bold, Zeppie thinks Mr. Ron and Mr. Draco could use a cup of Zeppie’s special tea. It will make misters feel better.”

Draco and Ron turned to where Zeppie’s voice was coming from over by the fireplace. Sure enough, he’d quietly set out tea for two on the copper table. “Please, Mr. Ron, have some tea. Zeppie is wanting to take care of Mr. Ron and Mr. Draco since they is not feeling so good.”

“All right, Zeppie,” Ron agreed. “We’ll have tea. But only while we try to figure out what to do.”

And so Ron and Draco sat on the maroon sofa in front of the fireplace, drinking Zeppie’s tea and discussing their options. Anytime one of them ran out of tea, Zeppie made sure to refill it.

“So do we just sit back and wait for him to write you again?” Ron asked, polishing off his third cup of tea.

“I don’t see where we have any choice,” Draco said, taking a large swig of his fourth cup. “By the way, this is excellent tea. I think I’ll have more,” Draco said, refilling his cup and sloshing tea over the edges. He suddenly noticed that he wasn’t feeling so steady anymore. “Hey, something funny’s going on,” he said slowly, feeling like his tongue weighed ten pounds.

“You know, Draco, you may be right,” Ron answered in a slightly slurred voice. “Zeppie! Where are you?”

Zeppie came from the kitchen carrying a fresh pot of tea. He was wearing a bright yellow jumper and orange knit pants that seemed to swirl around before Ron’s eyes making him feel nauseous. “Is misters feeling better?”

“Zeppie, what is this you’re giving us to drink?” Ron asked slowly, trying to enunciate.

“Oh, misters are drinking Zeppie’s special tea.”

“And what exactly, Zeppie my dear man,” Draco said, slurring worse than Ron, “makes this tea special?”

Zeppie pulled a large bottle out of his jumper. “This is Zeppie’s special ingredient.”

Ron grabbed the bottle and tried to read the label, finding it a bit difficult as the letters blurred together. “Ogmar’s…first…eclipsky,” Ron said carefully, smiling that he’d read it.

“No, no, Mister Ron,” Zeppie corrected. “It is being Ogden’s Firewhiskey.”

Ron’s eyes grew wide. “Zeppie, you’ve been getting us sloshed?”

Zeppie slowly nodded his head.

“Wicked! Hey, Draco, I dare you to drink some of this without the tea.”

“I will not participate in childish dares,” Draco said, staggering over and taking the bottle from a stunned Zeppie. In one long swig, Draco emptied half of the bottle. “No means no, and I said no. No!”

Ron took the bottle from Draco who had begun to spin in circles chanting no. “No…no…no ne no no,” he sang, as Ron followed his example and drank the other half of the bottle.

As Draco continued his ‘no’ dance, Ron hollered, “Hey, Zeppie! Bring us some more of your special ingredient, pretty please!”

Draco quickly tripped his way over and hid behind the couch. “Shhhh!” he said in a whispered slur. “We’re underage. We’re not asposed…sucrost…explosed…we’re not allowed.”

“I won’t tell anybody if you won’t, Draco buddy,” Ron assure him, tripping over his own feet and falling on the couch.

“Alrighty, Ronnie. Let’s shake on it.”

Draco extended his had to Ron, who had gotten back up.

“Wade a minute,” Ron said doubtfully. “Aren’t we supposed to spit on each other’s hand first or something?”

Draco nodded exuberantly. “You’re absolutely right, Ronnie. On three. One…two…thirteen!”

Ron and Draco both tried to spit on each other’s hands. Draco missed, instead spitting on Ron’s shoe. Ron had accidentally spit on Zeppie’s head when he tried to hand Ron another bottle of firewhiskey. A long strand of drool now hung from his bottom lip.

Zeppie wiped his head and Ron wiped off his mouth. “Sorry, bout that Zeppie.”

“It doesn’t matter, Mr. Ron. Zeppie is glad Mr. Ron is happy. Here you are misters.”

Zeppie handed Draco and Ron each a bottle of firewhiskey.

“Harry, are you sure we should do this?” Ginny asked as she and Harry headed towards Ron’s dorm. Both of them were carrying shopping bags.

“Tonks said these were the shopping bags Hermione and Luna had with them when they were taken,” Harry explained. “I think Ron and Draco should have them. Dobby came and told me that Zeppie had gone to serve both of them tea in Ron’s room earlier. Not to mention…what kind of friends would we be if we didn’t check on them?”

“All right, you’ve got a point. Dragon’s blood,” Ginny said as they reached their destination. The sight that met them when they entered the common room was unexplainable. Draco was climbed up inside the lion fountain looking for something called a Plothrunt. Ron was running around with his arms stretched out to the sides and making airplane noises. Standing flat against the wall by the kitchen stood Zeppie, covering his eyes with his hands.

“Bloody hell!” exclaimed Ginny, taking a page from her big brother’s book. “They’re both snockered!”

“Harry and Ginny!” Ron slurred loudly, stumbling towards them with his arms out. Draco continued his search for Plothrunts, now crawling on the floor under the stairs to Hermione’s room.

“Everything all right, Ron?” Harry asked, trying to hide an amused smile from Ginny. If she knew that Harry found any amusement whatsoever in this situation, his life might be in jeopardy.

“Sure, mate, sure,” Ron said, nodding his head in an exaggerated manner. He looked around as if to assure himself that no one was listening, and then leaned in to whisper loudly to Harry. “Dunno if I ever told you, Harry, but Ginny only wears green knickers now because they match your eyes. I overheard her tell Hermione about it over the-OWWW!”

Ron was cut short as the heel of Ginny’s shoe made hard contact with his toes. It was hard for Harry to keep his laughter in check, but he managed it.

“So, uh…what’s going on, Ron?”

Ron looked over to where Draco was down on all fours looking under the couch. “Me and my buddy Draco have been having a bit of Zeppie’s special tea.”

Ginny turned her attention to Zeppie who was no longer hiding his eyes. “Tea, Zeppie?”

“Yes, Missy Ginny…tea with Zeppie’s special ingredient,” Zeppie explained, pointing to an empty bottle on the floor. Ginny walked over and kicked the glass bottle over until she could read the label.

“Harry, they’ve been drinking firewhiskey!” she said, snatching the bottle up and holding it out for his inspection. Harry’s eyes scanned the label and again he stifled a snicker.

“Well, Ginny, let’s get these two on the sofa so we can give them what we brought. Zeppie, could you please make up a good deal of strong coffee?”

Zeppie nodded quickly. “Yes, Harry Potter, sir. Zeppie will do it. And also, Zeppie did not mean to make the misters crazy. Zeppie only wanted to make them forget about their missing Lovegood and Hermy.”

“I know, Zeppie,” Harry said consolingly as Ginny shoved Ron rather roughly onto the sofa next to Draco. “Please, just make the coffee as quick as you can.”

Zeppie headed off into the kitchen and Harry joined Ginny who stood in front of the sofa holding out a shopping bag to each of the two drunken sots.

“I’m sorry to give these to you two in your present state,” Ginny said a little bit more softly. Harry explained that they were found at the scene of Hermione’s and Luna’s abduction as Ron and Draco took them.

Ron stuck his head in his bag and inhaled deeply. In a few moments, he began to blubber. Draco carefully piled the packages out of Luna’s bag on his lap, a far-off look in his bloodshot eyes.

“I failed you, Luna. I let that stupid murdering git get a hold of you,” Draco said in a surprisingly serious way for someone who’d just been swimming around in a fountain looking for Plothrunts.

Ron’s head snapped up from out of the bag. “Well at least you could snog her good and proper before she got taken! I couldn’t even pat my hot lips Hermione on the juicy-looking bottom without getting flung into the nearest wall!” he wailed.

Ginny and Harry sat with Ron and Draco, forcing many cups of strong coffee into them until they started making a bit of sense. Ron and Draco had opted to open the packages the girls had bought. After hearing Howler and Grizzle’s recorded messages, they were both strangely quiet. A few more cups of coffee later found both of them passed out on opposite ends of the massive couch, each holding onto Howler and Grizzle for dear life. Harry and Ginny decided it would be best to stay with them overnight and sent Zeppie to let people know where they would be so no one would worry.

“Well, Potter,” Ginny said, yawning and stretching, “I’m going to go up and see if Hermione has some sleeping clothes I can borrow. I’ll be right back.”

“Need any help?” Harry asked innocently.

“Don’t even think about it, Potter,” Ginny warned, dashing up the spiral stairs to Hermione’s room. She came down moments later wearing a set of old flannel pajamas with dancing toothbrushes all over them. She was carrying a pile of blankets which she threw on a chair, grabbing two off the top to cover Ron and Draco with. Then she began to neatly spread the rest out on the floor in front of the fireplace. When she was done, she had created a cozy pallet. She grabbed a few overstuffed pillows from off the couch and threw them onto her pallet. Laying down, she opened one eye to look at Harry sitting unmoving, staring down at her from the armchair he sat in.

“I see you don’t have your ring with you, Potter.”

“How very observant of you, Miss Weasley.”

Coyly she patted the pillow next to her own. “Coming, Potter?”

Hippogriffs. It had to be hippogriffs that were marching through his head. Ron tried to open his eyes and push himself up, accidentally dropping Grizzle to the floor.

“Hey! How about picking me up? Your sweetheart was a lot more gentle,” Grizzle complained.

For the stuffed bear’s tact, Ron would have liked to send it sailing across the room. Instead he bent over to fetch Grizzle, trying to shield his eyes from the stabbing rays of the sun which pierced them. When Ron sat up he noticed Draco. Draco sat at the other end of the couch holding Howler quite tightly and staring at the floor in front of the fireplace unblinking. Ron turned his attention to that particular space and saw Ginny and Harry sleeping in each other’s arms. Ginny’s Sweet Dreams ring bound their hands together as they slept on blissfully.

“I slept with Luna like that once,” Draco said, dully staring at Harry and Ginny. “When she was in the hospital wing.”

Ron let his head fall forward into his palms, sighing heavily. “I don’t know how I’m ever going to make it through this. I’d like to rip your father limb from limb.”

Draco turned to look at the anguished red head on the other end of the couch. “Trust me…I know how you feel.”

As if to prove his point, Draco slammed his fist down on the copper table in frustration. Ginny woke with a start, shooting to her feet.

“Breakfast!” she exclaimed, realizing that Ron and Draco had seen her sleeping with Harry. “I’ll get breakfast!”

She started heading for the kitchen, quite forgetting that her hand was still attached to Harry’s. The jerking of his arm woke him.

“What’s the big deal?” he asked sleepily, until he noticed that Ron and Draco were awake. “Oh…right. Uh, Ginny, how about taking your ring back before you take my finger with it.”

Ginny smiled sheepishly, returning her ring to it’s normal size after Harry extricated it from his finger. She blushed a deep red as she escaped to the kitchen.

“Sorry,” Draco muttered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Harry took in Draco and Ron’s pathetic countenances and pity flooded through him as well as concern. He was worried about his missing friends, and knew how he’d feel if he was in Draco and Ron’s position and Ginny had been taken. He’d feel like a part of him was missing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry said, gathering blankets and folding them. “We had to get up anyways for classes. Do you two feel all right? It looked like you were pretty well on another planet when we got here last night.”

Ron shook his head. “The only thing I can think about is getting Hermione back.”

Draco nodded. “I’m in complete agreement. But we can’t do anything with my father watching. He’ll sick Fenrir Greyback on the girls. I won’t do anything to put them in further danger.”

Draco handed the letter and the photo to Harry. Harry quickly read the note and then looked on in horror as the photo Greyback went back and forth between photo Luna and photo Hermione, touching their hair and cheeks with his grotesque fingers.

“Well I guess all we can do is wait,” Harry reasoned. “But nobody said we can’t do a little preparing in the meantime.”

The day finally came for Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Draco to travel to the Burrow for Christmas break. Dumbledore had arranged for the foursome to Floo from his office. As soon as they arrived they were greeted by Mrs. Weasley who clutched a letter in her hands. Deep concern etched lines in her usually smiling face.

“Draco, a letter’s come for you. I think it’s from your father.”

Draco tore the letter from Molly’s hands. With it was enclosed another picture. He held off on reading the letter for a minute as he noticed something strange about the photo. Luna, as before, was chained to a marble block. The marble block which had before held Hermione was now empty, the unused chains dangling to the floor.