A Thousand Words

Chapter 23: The Unseen Genius

Hermione's mind reeled as she exited the Training Hall later that afternoon. When she had inquired about Draco's reaction to the Cruciatus curse, she hadn't expected him to disclose as much as he had. Of course, she wasn't upset that he'd told her; she had been yearning to find out for a long time; but nevertheless, she felt almost guilty for hearing him out. It was as if she had stolen something he treasured by prompting him to tell her.

'Bye, Marilla,' said Hermione, waving good-bye to the witch who had done the announcing for the day as she pushed the double oak doors open.

'Have a good day, Hermione,' she replied with a grin.

The hall outside was empty. There weren't any departments located on the highest floor of the Ministry, however, so this didn't come as a surprise. Hermione took the lift down to the Atrium, where she stepped into one of the many fireplaces located there and returned to the Burrow.

Ginny, Harry, and Ron all had the day off, so they were lounging about in the sitting room when Hermione stepped out of the Burrow's fireplace. She smiled at them briefly. Though she would have liked to sit down and chat with them a bit, the fact that Ron was there made her decide to do otherwise.

'Not so fast, Hermione!' said Ginny, catching Hermione's arm as she attempted to hurry past the trio. 'Where are you running off to?'

'Shower,' Hermione answered quickly, tearing her arm out of Ginny's grasp. 'I just got back from the training session...'

'Well, tell us about it,' said Ginny pointedly. She moved closer to Harry to make room for Hermione. 'Don't worry, we won't say anything if you smell.'

'I don't know if that's such a good idea,' said Hermione, casting a nervous glance in Ron's direction.

Harry looked over at Ron. 'Ron, you two have got to get over this...'

Hermione shook her head rapidly. 'I'm going to take a shower now,' she said, and before anyone could stop her, she left the room.

As Hermione ascended the staircase, she did everything she could to forget about the scene downstairs. She thought about what Draco had told her and shuddered. She had figured he'd had a run-in with some illegal curses and didn't want to say anything about it, but she had never imagined that the history behind those scars was so brutal. She wanted to pity him, but then she remembered Shadow's warning about not pitying someone in Draco's situation, and she held herself back.

Hermione tried to think about the upcoming Sunday when she would see Shadow again, but to her surprise, the thought could hardly entertain her for more than a few seconds. Her focus kept drifting to Draco. She wondered what his flat looked like. Was it large and empty, or was it small and messy? There were so many sides to him, and Hermione had no idea which of them would be reflected in his living style.

It hit her when she finally stepped off at the top of the stairway. For the first time ever, Hermione couldn't decide which she was looking forward to more: her meeting with Shadow, or her meeting with Draco.

---

Hermione Floo'd over to Draco's flat at exactly 3 pm the next afternoon.

The first thought that crossed her mind when she stepped out of his fireplace was that she must have accidentally arrived at the wrong house. The room she had entered was dark; no lamps or candles had been lit, and the only source of light came from a grimy sky window.

Uncertainly, Hermione groped around in the darkness. She yelped when her hand met another one.

'What are you doing?' said a very amused voice out of the shadows.

Suddenly a row of candles on the mantelpiece behind Hermione burst into flame, illuminating the vicinity and allowing Hermione to see the person whose hand she had accidentally grabbed. It was, naturally, Draco.

'I wasn't expecting you so soon,' he said.

'What do you mean?' Hermione asked, surprised. 'I arrived on time.'

'That's the point,' he said bluntly.

He left Hermione to figure out his reply and strolled over to an unkempt sofa that appeared to be sagging under the weight of several piles of clothing, empty bottles of firewhiskey, and books.

'My home isn't very tidy,' he explained.

'I never would have guessed,' Hermione muttered as she daintily made her way over to the sofa. She cautiously picked up a tatty cushion and inspected it. 'And you say the Burrow is a -'

'Watch it,' Draco warned, clearing a spot on the sofa and collapsing on it. He glowered at Hermione. 'You're in my house, and therefore subject to my rules. Rule number one: that baboon and anything belonging to him are not to be mentioned in my company.'

'I'm here,' Hermione pointed out.

Draco stared at her.

'I mean,' she stammered, realising what Draco had said, 'I don't belong to him. I just mean that...well, you can't really expect Ron to be forgotten entirely if I'm here.'

'I don't,' he said plainly, 'but it would be nice if you could at least try...starting now.'

Hermione ignored him and released the cushion she had been examining. 'Are we really going to go over the case...here?' she asked apprehensively.

'If you want to,' he said with a lazy shrug. He picked up a cracked bottle, scrutinised it for a moment, and then looked over it at Hermione with a raised eyebrow. 'I take it that your disgusted expression says it all.'

'I'm not disgusted,' said Hermione hurriedly. She felt slightly embarrassed for treating her surroundings so disdainfully. 'I just...it's a bit messy, that's all...'

'I know,' said Draco, standing up, 'which is why we're not going to be doing anything here. Follow me to the kitchen.'

Hermione did so. As they entered a smaller, equally-disorderly room, she was both delighted and upset to see through an open doorway a tiny, poorly-dressed house-elf hurrying up a stairway leading downstairs.

'Master!' he squeaked once he had stumbled onto the kitchen floor, apparently not noticing the presence of a second person. 'Master, the potion is in need of more aconite...'

'Go add another pinch then, Lydig,' Draco snapped without even looking at the elf.

'But - but Master told Lydig to never touch his potions - Lydig does not wish to disobey -'

'You're even more worthless than I thought,' Draco growled. 'Stay here,' he added over his shoulder to Hermione, who was gaping at him, as he shoved the house-elf aside and proceeded to disappear down the stairs.

The house-elf, whom Draco had referred to as Lydig, nearly fell over from the force of Draco's push, but he righted himself within a split second.

Hermione was speechless. How could Draco treat the poor creature so cruelly? She had expected him to be indifferent towards the plight of 'lesser' beings, as house-elves were often referred to by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but to insult and abuse Lydig for no reason? It was utterly appalling.

'Hello,' said Hermione kindly to Lydig, who was now cleaning dirty dishes one by one with a wave of one of his long-fingered hands.

The house-elf squealed and jumped a foot in the air. 'Who is you?' he asked nervously once he had regained his composure.

'I'm Hermione,' said Hermione with a smile. 'I'm Draco's...colleague.'

At once, Lydig fell to the floor at Hermione's feet. 'Lydig is terribly sorry for being rude to a friend of Master Malfoy's!'

'Oh, no, you weren't rude at all!' said Hermione, shocked by Lydig's subservient behaviour. She bent over and tried to help him up, but he resisted.

'Lydig, what are you doing?'

Both Hermione and Lydig looked up at the sound of Draco's voice. He had returned from the basement, and was now looking very annoyed as he addressed his house-elf.

Lydig scrambled to his feet and bowed to Draco. 'If Master and his lady friend are in need of any drinks, Lydig will be delighted to serve them.'

'No, just make yourself scarce,' said Draco, waving a hand carelessly.

At the command, Lydig disappeared with a loud crack.

'Malfoy!' Hermione exclaimed angrily. She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. 'How can you treat him that way?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' said Draco coolly. He tapped his wand against the countertop twice and a tray bearing sandwiches and wine appeared. He picked this up and set it on the kitchen table.

'That was awful of you, reprimanding Lydig like that because he didn't obey one of your previous orders,' Hermione said, extremely miffed now.

'Why don't you just give it up with that SPEW rubbish, Granger?' said Draco conversationally as he sat down at the table and gestured for Hermione to do so as well.

Hermione reluctantly sat down. 'Because,' she said, crossing her arms and refusing the goblet of wine Draco offered her, 'almost ten years later, house-elves still haven't received the respect and treatment they deserve. If I don't try to make a difference, who will?'

Draco looked up at her sharply. 'What did you just say?'

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but before she could answer, Draco blinked, and the spark of recognition Hermione had seen in his eyes disappeared.

'Never mind,' he said briskly, taking a sip from his cup of wine. He grimaced. 'Too sweet,' he muttered.

'Anyway,' Hermione continued, deciding to bypass Draco's odd behaviour, 'I brought the records.'

She lifted the sheaf of parchment she had brought with her off the floor and dropped it on the table. Draco frowned at the height of the pile.

'This is going to take quite a while, isn't it?'

'Which is why I came here to employ your help in checking through them,' said Hermione brightly. She brought the sheet at the top of the stack towards her. 'Start reading, Malfoy. If you find anyone suspicious, put the report aside so we can look over it in more depth later.'

It was a tedious process, scanning the many accounts of werewolf captures in the past few months. Several times Hermione found herself wondering if the name of the man they were searching for was even in there...perhaps the Werewolf Capture Unit had forgotten to write up his file, or maybe the Werewolf Registry had borrowed it for the time being...and then there was the possibility that their suspect wasn't even a werewolf in the first place, that Hermione's theory was incorrect...

The pile of possible matches grew. At last, when Hermione reached her hand out blindly to grab another report, she found, to her delight, that there was nothing there.

'Finally,' she murmured, sitting back and blinking blearily. 'Malfoy, you done?'

'I am now,' he announced as he tossed the record he'd been reading off to the side. 'How many have we got here?' he added, gesturing at the possible matches pile.

Hermione picked the papers up and flipped through them quickly. 'Not too many,' she said, relieved, as she handed roughly half of them over to Draco. 'Maybe fifteen or twenty.'

Silence fell between them again as they returned to looking over the records. After a while, Hermione came across one detailing a werewolf attack on a yet-to-be-captured young, brown-haired werewolf who wore glasses. She pushed the other sheets of parchment away excitedly. She dimly recalled reading this report before leaving for her first meeting with Shadow.

'Malfoy, this one could be it,' she said eagerly. 'It says here that this attack took place fifteen days ago in Bristol. Greyback did it.'

Hermione saw Draco stiffen at the mention of Greyback's name. She could understand why; just a few years ago, the two of them had been allies.

'It's probable,' he said, putting down the last of his half. 'There's nothing here that matches all the described traits of the suspect.'

He held out a hand, and Hermione gave the report to him. He scanned it quickly then said, 'This must be it. Listen to this: "...the house, he sported a patched grey shirt and faded jeans. The victim is of average height and is somewhat scrawny, with shaggy brown hair..." That's exactly how Anna described him.'

'What about the scars?' Hermione asked anxiously. She had forgotten to check for them. 'Is there any mention of the scars in the summary?'

Draco shook his head. 'He probably received those from the attack. This is just the description his mother provided.'

'Right,' Hermione murmured. She bit her lip thoughtfully. 'Do you think we should go off of this? Because I mean, right now we're making an awful lot of assumptions...'

'It's all we have, isn't it?' said Draco, quirking an eyebrow. 'Unless you have anything else you haven't told me about, Granger.'

'No I don't,' Hermione said hastily. 'So where do we start?'

'Well, usually the Werewolf Capture Unit deals with the incarceration of werewolves,' said Draco, 'but I expect they'd let us borrow a member or two of their squad to take along with us if we persuaded them to allow us to deal with this one.'

'Do you think it's safe for us to try to track down a werewolf?' Hermione asked nervously. 'I mean, I was taught to deal with dark wizards, not dark creatures...'

'Didn't you learn anything from those years with Lupin?' Draco asked incredulously.

'Lupin never got around to the werewolf lesson before Snape went and leaked his secret,' Hermione replied snippily. 'And when Snape was substituting, he was too busy insulting Harry and me to teach us anything substantial.'

Draco laughed. 'Either way, we're going to track down that werewolf. I'm not going to let some other bastard take over my case now that I've gotten this far.'

'Our case,' Hermione corrected. 'And I suppose you're right. We'll have to let the Werewolf Capture Unit and our Heads know, though.'

'Naturally,' Draco replied mockingly. 'Because who knows what would happen if you actually did something without permission for once?'

'Well, I don't want to get fired for sneaking around behind our bosses' backs,' said Hermione matter-of-factly. She paused. 'So that's that then?'

'Hold on,' said Draco sharply. 'We don't even know if the werewolf is the real culprit. If you remember what I brought up while we were at the Red Dragon...'

'I know,' Hermione replied quickly. 'What's his name, by the way?'

'Why does it even matter?' Draco muttered irritably. He checked the list anyway. 'Noah Lawley.'

'Okay,' said Hermione, mentally storing the name in her head. 'So what do we do if we do happen to find him? He won't come with us if we tell him we're from the Ministry, Malfoy. You know how strict their werewolf policies have become.'

'Then we won't tell him,' said Draco pointedly.

Hermione sighed. 'I wish there was something we could offer him which would sound better than joining up with Greyback...I'm sure he must be miserable, now that he's been bitten...' she said sadly, tracing a fading ring in the wooden surface of the table.

She looked up at Draco. His eyes had darkened and he looked as though he were considering something very intently.

'Malfoy?' she said cautiously. 'What are you thinking?'

In response, Draco stood up. His hands clutched the edge of the table very tightly as he leaned forward and stared Hermione straight in the eye.

'I have a secret,' he hissed under his breath. His eyes started darting from side to side. Hermione began wondering if she should call a Healer. 'You have to promise not to tell a living soul.'

'Malfoy, if it's about your scars -'

'No,' he said curtly. 'It's...do you swear you won't say a word, Granger? Especially not to -'

'I won't tell Harry or Ron,' Hermione replied impatiently. She was very curious about Draco's enigmatic behaviour now. 'What is it?'

Draco took her arm and pulled her up from her seat. 'Come downstairs.'

Hermione followed him across the small kitchen to the stairway he had disappeared down earlier.

'Not a word,' he reminded her menacingly, before descending the stairs two at a time.

Hermione felt a sense of trepidation creep up on her as she hurried down the stairs after Draco. What was it that Draco was so committed to keeping concealed? Something illegal, perhaps? For a moment, the wild possibility that Draco had a dragon hidden in his basement occurred to Hermione, but before she could entertain the idea any longer, Draco silently lit the room they had entered with a wave of his wand and Hermione's worries were cut off by the most astonishing sight she had ever beheld.

Potions. Hundreds of them in cauldrons of all sizes. Hermione recognised the concoction simmering at the foot of the staircase as Amortentia by its familiar mother-of-pearl sheen. Just beyond it was a larger vat of Pepperup Potion, a dark grey draft that was emitting vast amounts of steam.

Hermione gawked at the spectacle. There were cauldrons of Polyjuice Potion, Sobering Potion, Hate Potion, Elixir of Euphoria, Sleeping Draught, Beautification Potion, Invigoration Draught, Wit-Sharpening Potion ...almost every brewable potion Hermione had ever heard of was there. It appeared that Draco had magically expanded his basement just to fit all of the cauldrons, because Hermione was positive that the ground floor of his flat was not this extensive.

'Oh my God,' Hermione whispered faintly, gripping the railing tightly as she looked around. 'Malfoy, you did all of this?'

'No, the house-elf did it,' Draco replied sarcastically, but still, Hermione was able to pick out the underlying pride in his voice. 'Of course I did it, Granger.'

'It's wonderful.' Hermione stepped onto the concrete floor of the basement and began slowly weaving around the cauldrons, peering at the contents of some as she passed by. 'How, though? This must have taken you -'

'- years, yes,' Draco finished smugly. 'Potions is a passion Severus instilled in me. I spend my spare time down here brewing these.'

'What do you do with them, though?' Hermione asked, puzzled, as she gazed into a vat filled with an unfamiliar violet potion. 'What's the point of having all of this down here?'

'I enjoy it, Granger. Why do you keep enough books to fill a library? You enjoy reading them.'

'But you could sell these and make enough money to -' Hermione stopped there, too embarrassed to continue. Bringing up Draco's financial situation seemed a bit tactless.

'I could,' he said casually, 'and I occasionally do, but other than that, no.'

Hermione shrugged. She supposed Draco's pride wouldn't allow him to sell these potions to make extra money. In a way, she could see why. It was like when she found a particularly old or rare book: she didn't want to get rid of it because keeping it gave her a sense of fulfilment.

She turned around, about to ask Draco what kind of potion was in the cauldron beside her, but he was already standing right behind her. She gasped, not having heard his approach.

'You startled me,' she explained, backing up a bit so that she wasn't so close to Draco. It made her uncomfortable to have him looming over her.

He rolled his eyes. 'You should be a librarian; your hearing is keen enough to rival Madam Pince's.'

'Watch it, you don't want anyone thinking you're trying to flatter me,' said Hermione, laughing. 'Is all of this your secret?' She was confused as to how the potions would help their werewolf situation.

Draco seemed to hesitate before he said, 'No. There's something else...'

'What is it?' Hermione asked, trying to mask the enthusiasm in her voice. She couldn't even fathom how anything could be more remarkable than Draco's basement of potions.

'It's back here,' he said, turning and heading towards the back of the room.

Hermione walked along behind him, curiously looking around as she passed by cauldron after cauldron. She had never been much of a Potions person, but even she was awed by Draco's collection.

'Here it is,' he said quietly, stopping suddenly and causing Hermione to bump into him from behind.

'Sorry,' she said, rubbing her nose and trying to look around Draco to see whatever was before him. 'Malfoy, can you move over? I can't see.'

Draco turned around and said, 'Hold on.' Then, to Hermione's surprise, he covered her eyes with his hands.

'What are you doing?' she asked nervously as she felt Draco move behind her while keeping his hands over her eyes. His skin felt cool and smooth against hers - nothing like Ron's warm, calloused hands.

'Take a few steps forward,' he said into her ear.

She obliged.

'Now look.'

He lifted his hands away, and Hermione looked down to see a large cauldron full of a glutinous grey-green substance. She frowned. Another potion. Slightly disappointed, she turned to Draco and asked, 'What is it?'

The dancing fire underneath the cauldron had cast shadows across Draco's features, illuminating his scars and making his face appear even more sinister than usual. For a split second, Hermione felt a flicker of fear; then, Draco stepped to the side, destroying the strange lighting effect the flames had generated.

'The Wolfsbane II Potion.'