A Thousand Words

Chapter 12: In Dreams

Hermione watched Draco silently struggle with his pride for a few minutes. When he finally handed over the scrap of paper she had caught sight of him holding earlier, she smiled at him uncertainly. 'Thank you.'

Draco said nothing in return. Hermione felt his eyes on her as she brought his discovery closer to her face to read the words.

'Crushed aconite leaves - 3 pinches,' she murmured to herself. She looked up quizzically at Draco. 'This must be part of a potion.'

'Clever observation,' he muttered, not bothering to mask his sarcasm.

Hermione bit her bottom lip to hold back the retort that threatened to escape. 'Which potion, do you think?'

'I wouldn't know.' Draco shoved his hands in his pockets. 'There are hundreds of potions that require aconite leaves.'

'Right,' said Hermione apologetically, 'I forgot. Snape told us it was the third most common herbal potion ingredient, didn't he?'

Draco seemed surprised that she had remembered. Hermione noted this, and replied smartly, 'I may have focused more on Defence Against the Dark Arts in seventh year, but I was in N.E.W.T level Potions for a reason, Malfoy.' She paused to run her finger along the torn edge of the page corner. 'What do you think the "two months" underneath stands for?'

'Either brew, let sit undisturbed, or stew,' came the almost-immediate answer.

Hermione raised her eyebrows a fraction of an inch. 'Can you think of any potions that require two months' sitting time and three pinches of aconite?'

'A few.'

'Like what? All that comes to mind are medicinal pastes that help ease the pain of some dark curses, and I don't even know if they need to stew for two months.'

'They don't.'

'Not one to waste your breath, are you?' Hermione snapped, her patience having been worn to the point of tearing by Draco's unhelpful attitude. 'Well, I have other matters to attend to, then, if you're not going to give a little effort.' She grabbed Draco's arm and pressed the piece of paper back into his palm. 'If you need me, I'll be inside.'

Draco did not seem taken aback by Hermione's outburst. Instead, he simply glanced down at the hand Hermione had latched onto his forearm with a mixed expression of surprise and mild distaste.

'Oh, don't even say it!' said Hermione disgustedly, letting go as quickly as if Draco's arm had been a red-hot log. She shook her head slightly and took a deep breath to still her nerves before adding in a more composed tone of voice, 'Show that to Dawlish. He might be able to come up with a few suggestions.'

'I was planning to, but thank you for the reminder,' said Draco, the ghost of a smirk settling over his lips.

Without responding, Hermione spun around and left the alley.

---

When Hermione returned to the Burrow, she found the house empty. Mrs Weasley had left a note on the table stating that she had taken the twins, Angelina, Alicia, and Ginny to Diagon Alley to get some fresh air, and that Harry and Ron had left earlier in order to catch a late brunch before heading to the Ministry. As Hermione had been granted leave for the day due to her part in the Malkin investigation, she had the day free to herself.

It had been a while since Hermione had been in the Weasleys' home alone, and at first, she couldn't help but feel lonely. She was so used to the sight of Mrs Weasley bustling around with knitting needles in her hands, or Harry and Ron sitting down by the fireplace to play an enthusiastic game of Exploding Snap, that the emptiness of the rooms felt overwhelming.

Hermione grabbed a gingersnap from a plate of them that had been laid out to cool as she left the kitchen. Her feet brought her to the sitting room, where she smiled at the sight of the enormous Christmas tree by the window. Someone - Fred or George, no doubt - had charmed the angel at the top to burst into loud, high-pitched renditions of various Christmas carols whenever a person entered the room, so that the moment Hermione's foot touched the carpeted floor, an off-tune version of 'Silent Night' shattered the silence.

For a few seconds, Hermione struggled between amusement and exasperation; then, the latter won out, leading her to pull out her wand, point it at the source of the clamour, and mutter irritably, 'Silencio!'

Immediately, Hermione's ears were filled with soothing silence once again. Sighing with relief, she said to the angel, 'Sorry, but I need some quiet time right now. Maybe when the rest of them come home you can grace us with your lovely voice once more.'

Sinking down upon one of the couches, Hermione ran a hand across her forehead and inhaled deeply. The room smelled like a pleasant mixture of butterbeer, freshly baked cookies, and clean laundry. Hermione smiled.

As she hadn't taken the scrap of paper Draco had found with her to examine more closely - and she wished now that she had - Hermione decided to pull out some parchment and write a letter to Shadow. It had been less than a day since the two of them had met in person, but the morning's events had made the short time period seem ten times longer.

Dear Shadow,

I had a lovely time talking with you at the park last night. I hope you don't mind that I was under the Cloak the entire time; now that I reflect upon it, it does seem rather rude, and I apologise if you thought so as well. I thought your 'disguise' was very clever, though. I must admit, I've been scouring my mind for any acquaintances of mine with black hair and grey eyes, but the only one I've ever had...well, he passed.

This morning was less pleasant than I would have liked it to be, but then again, no one ever told me my job was going to be enjoyable all the time. I have a mystery on my hands, that's for sure. And I don't only mean the Malkin case - my coworkers have been acting strangely too. Fortunately, I haven't the time to dwell on it. And I think this is the point where I'll stop talking about my job, because I'm sure it must be boring for you to listen to me drone on and on about matters that don't concern you.

Anyway, how are you planning to spend your Christmas break? I'm going to guess you'll be with your family, just like me. Well, technically I won't really be with my family; my mother and father are celebrating their 20^th anniversary in Switzerland. They invited me to go along, but I think they deserve some time together without the company of their daughter so I declined the invitation. I don't really mind, though. I love my boyfriend's family, and I can't think of any better way to pass the few days we get off from work than by relaxing with them.

This might be too much to ask, but if you're not too busy over the holidays, would you like to meet again? I'll most likely be free on Christmas Eve, so if your schedule is open that day and you have no objections to a second meeting, please reply with an appropriate time and place.

Sincerely,

Starlight

Hermione carefully folded the letter and sealed it with hot wax from a candle flickering on the coffee table. She then stamped the wax and stood up, tucking the letter into her pocket and making a mental note to herself to mail it the next time she was at the Ministry.

Pleased with herself for having accomplished one more task, Hermione shuffled out of the living room and began to ascend the rickety staircase. Time to take a well deserved nap, Hermione, she thought, yawning pleasantly at the very thought of her warm bed.

Once upstairs, Hermione turned on the dim lamp in her room with a short flick of her wand and walked over to the mirror. She glanced at her reflection briefly, frowning at the greyish tint in her skin and the dark circles beneath her eyes.

'I need to get more sleep,' she grumbled to herself as she pulled the sealed letter out of her pocket and tucked one corner of it underneath the heavy bronze frame around the mirror.

'Secret admirer, love?' a coy female voice piped up.

Hermione couldn't help but snort at the mirror's words. 'Me?'

'Oh that's right, you're the one who's always working and never goes out,' said the mirror, sounding slightly disappointed that Hermione had no gossip or secrets to divulge.

'That's not true,' Hermione replied crossly, although she couldn't help but note to herself that the fact that she was discussing her social life with a mirror unfortunately proved otherwise, 'I go out a lot. I go out with Ron, Harry, and Ginny all the time. Besides, it's not as if I don't meet new people at the Ministry.'

'Yes, yes, whatever you say, dear,' intoned the mirror lazily. Then it said no more.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione undid the last of the buttons on her robe and shrugged the garment off. She hung it on one of the hooks protruding from her door and smoothed out a few subtle wrinkles before removing the rest of her work clothes and changing into one of Ron's old t-shirts.

As she snuggled up underneath her worn but comfortable covers, Hermione couldn't help but feel slightly guilty for sleeping instead of poring over the case and all the clues she had gathered that morning. However, her sleep-deprived mind was currently in control, so she silently promised herself that she would look over the new leads later that evening and closed her eyes with a small sigh.

Within a few seconds, Hermione drifted off to thoughts of aconite and mysterious men in white masks.

---

'Hermione, wake up.'

A cold finger prodded Hermione's cheek. She sleepily swiped at it and turned around, pulling her blankets up to her chin.

'Come on, Hermione, Mum said it's time for dinner.'

'What time is it?' Hermione mumbled, still stubbornly refusing to open her eyes for fear that the nice dream (the details of which she couldn't quite remember) she had been rudely woken up from would completely fade away.

'We just got back; it's seven.'

'Seven?!' Hermione half-shrieked, bolting up in bed and turning to look at her visitor (who turned out to be a rosy-cheeked, snow-covered Ginny). 'I've been sleeping for over seven hours?'

'Apparently,' Ginny quipped as she pulled her off knitted toboggan and shook the remaining snowflakes out of her thick red hair. 'It's a good thing you didn't go out, though; it just started snowing ten minutes ago and it's already a blizzard out there! Anyway, like I said, Mum's got dinner ready and she wanted me to bring you downstairs.'

'Seven hours,' Hermione muttered to herself as she pushed herself out of her bed. 'I can't believe I wasted that much time.'

'You deserve to sleep a little,' said Ginny sternly. 'Now come on down. I'll wait for you.'

As Hermione got dressed, Ginny chattered on about the Nocabsichten case. 'That time Harry and I went off to follow a reported sighting turned out to be a false alarm,' she explained as she watched Hermione search her drawers for trousers. 'So we're back to square one. Luckily, we've narrowed his whereabouts down to somewhere in the Southern region of Africa.'

'Hmm, that's good,' said Hermione distractedly. Ginny's mention of her current assigned dark wizard had reminded her that she still had to go over the results of the Malkin investigation earlier that morning. 'Great,' she muttered under her breath as she finally pulled out a pair of pyjama pants Mrs Weasley had given her a few Christmases ago.

'What's that?'

'Nothing. How is the interdepartmental unity challenge coming along for you? Have you stopped writing to your partner entirely?'

Ginny laughed. 'Afraid so. Aside from those two letters I told you about last time, we haven't communicated at all. I'd actually forgotten about the challenge until now.'

'Ginny!' Hermione scolded, straightening up and pushing the drawer closed with her foot. 'Am I really the only one in the Ministry who sees the importance in forming better relationships between all of us?'

'Looks like it,' said Ginny with a grin. 'It doesn't hurt that you have an tall, attractive male partner with black hair and grey eyes to keep in touch with either.'

'What?'

'I heard you talking in your sleep a few minutes before I woke you up...you were describing Shadow,' Ginny snickered.

Hermione felt her cheeks heat up. 'I never said he was attractive,' she said hotly.

'No, you didn't; that part was based on assumptions I drew from your extensive letters to him and your sleep-talking. How do you know what he looks like anyway?'

Hermione blinked, then realised that she had been keeping her meeting with Shadow a secret. 'Guesswork,' she said quickly. 'I guess I'm just trying to imagine what he looks like.'

'A Sirius look-alike?' said Ginny, quirking her eyebrow. 'Okay,' she said, the doubt painfully evident in her voice. 'Anyway, I think you better start treating Ron a little more nicely. Christmas will be here in a few days, and he might not buy you a present if he still thinks you want to spend time apart.'

'How did you figure that one out?' asked Hermione as she groped around the top of her desk for her hairbrush.

'He told me,' Ginny said simply.

'Oh, I should have known,' Hermione said through clenched teeth as she tried to pull the brush past a particularly stubborn knot in her untidy hair. She gave up after a few more attempts and stood up. 'Come on, let's go.'

'About time,' Ginny chirped. 'Now hurry up, the smell of Mum's Christmas cake is calling to me.'

Hermione laughed and followed Ginny out of her room. She pushed the door half-closed behind her, but before she could take more than three steps, a gust of wind from an open window down the hallway blew the door shut. Both she and Ginny jumped slightly at the loud bang.

'Remind me to close that window before I go to bed,' Hermione said.

Ginny nodded, and the two of them continued down the stairs.

Inside Hermione's room the letter addressed to Shadow drifted gracefully through the air, having been dislodged from between the mirror and its frame by the heavy slamming of the door, and landed beside the bed. A few minutes later, a gentle breeze entering the room through a crack beneath the door nudged the letter forward just enough so that it became engulfed by the shadows under the bed - all of it, that is, but one corner.