Ring a Ring O' Roses

3. Her Last Stand

Hermione had all but given up on trying to convince Ron that throwing his lot in with the likes of Draco Malfoy posed a very high risk to his career and reputation.

Ron didn't seem to care. He'd made up his mind, and that had been that.

The whole situation worried her deeply. What was driving Ron to such desperate measures? Had his life really become so stale and tired? At just thirty-three, he was far too young to be having a mid-life crisis.

Did he need saving from himself?

This question had often loomed over Hermione during the last week. She had even wondered if it was worthwhile to stage an intervention of some kind, enlisting his family and friends to talk some sense into him. She was sure Molly could stage a sufficiently convincing heart attack if all else failed, but she doubted Ron would ever forgive her the humiliation.

Or should she simply support him?

Until now, this had become her primary approach to a very thorny problem. But their visit to Malfoy Manor had only served to boost her very real misgivings about the entire venture - most particularly this harebrained notion that Ron and Draco should travel to Paraguay, of all places.

Later that afternoon, Hermione spotted Draco at the Ministry of Magic. He was in the public atrium, speaking with Auror Bennet; their conversation seemed quite amicable, like two old friends. She decided then and there to change her tactics.

Draco had claimed that the Aurors were 'hounding' him and 'baying for his blood,' that they would never take him seriously - and yet here he was, exchanging jokes with one of the most hard-ass Aurors in the business. It had all been an outright lie, and she simply couldn't allow that conniving little creep to take her husband down with him.

She had been right all along to suspect his true motives in approaching Ron - one of his oldest enemies - with his dark accusations about Jeroboam.

What other lies had he told?

Discrediting Malfoy's claims and character with some hard evidence shouldn't be too difficult, she reasoned. Ron couldn't ignore the facts, surely?

And, if she could achieve this by Friday, just a couple of days away, then she could hopefully wriggle out of her 'date' with Narcissa Malfoy as well.

XXX

As soon as Hermione arrived at her desk, she paid a quick visit to the Auror's Record Office, on the same floor as her own, to confirm that Auror Tom Bennet worked in Section B - Fraud and Finance.

Bennet was described as Draco's main 'handler' - which seemed a little informal for an official Ministry record, Hermione felt.

Despite her rising status as one of the leading luminaries in the Legal Prosecution Service of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she wasn't allowed to access any further information about Bennet's ongoing cases. Still, she was pretty certain that Ron could. And, in the meantime, she might try to engineer a friendly chat with Auror Bennet.

It would be interesting to find out Draco's purported crimes, she mused. Although too many crimes would potentially support Draco's argument that no Auror would ever take him seriously if he accused a well-respected wizard like Jeroboam of plotting a major terrorist catastrophe.

What else? Hermione whipped out a quill and a piece of scrap parchment. On the left hand side, she jotted down a list of questions she had concerning Draco's credibility; on the right, she listed her options in finding answers to these questions. Then, she'd present her findings to Ron as a 'dossier of truth.'

Getting people to express their undying hatred for the man would be almost too easy, Hermione thought gleefully.

That dealt with Draco, then.

But, more importantly, perhaps, what about Draco's accusations? What about his claim that Jeroboam was seeking to find and weaponise Dark Flux? If true, of course, this was terrifying and needed immediate attention from Section A. But how could she prove it?

Indeed. How could she disprove it?

She had to learn more about Jeroboam himself in order to see if he was fishy. She tried to ignore the voice in her head that reminded her that this was precisely what Draco Malfoy had wanted her to do in the first place. Obtaining a background check probably wouldn't be difficult. She could even Floo Harry at the Aurors' Office in Paris for any information they might have.

Thinking of Harry - or, rather, more Ginny, really - Hermione realized she had to have an invaluable eyewitness account of exactly what happened when an outbreak of Dark Flux struck a neighbourhood. Ginny had been more exposed than Harry to this particular incident, one which had killed two Muggleborn witches and three Muggles on the exact street in Paris where the Potters were living. Harry had been away on an assignment, leaving Ginny alone, terrified and distraught by the events unfolding around her. This had hardly been surprising; she had been close to term with Lily. The whole experience had prompted an early return to England for the family, which had pleased Ron to no end.

Strange how things worked out, though. The Paris office, which was the centre for European Auror Co-operative Ventures, had been so mortified by the great Harry Potter's hasty departure that they had offered him an even better job: one with higher status and import than his role in the UK, more perks, a very nice apartment, and a very fat pay cheque to boot. Harry had finally caved and moved the family back to Paris earlier this year. And now, Ginny couldn't be happier, or richer, as Ron so frequently liked to point out.

Thinking back to the Dark Flux outbreaks... Draco had said there had been many more incidents than she thought. Exactly how did he know this? Was it worth cross-referencing Muggle news coverage with Daily Prophet reports over a period of time, possibly the last five years? It might be time-consuming, even for her fabled research skills. Still, it was worth a shot, particularly if Ron could then cross-check Draco's claims with suspected cases. That might be a sure-fire way to catch Draco out.

She chewed the end of her quill thoughtfully, half-watching Padma battle a thick wad of case reports back into their relevant folder.

Dark Flux, Dark Flux. What else could she prove wrong?

Draco had claimed Dark Flux wasn't listed anymore as a Verifiable Imponderable. Now that she found very hard to believe. If it was off the list, that made it fair game for funded research from any quarter. Even if it could be rationalised and understood as a phenomenon, which was unlikely, surely Dark Flux would be far too dangerous a substance to actually work with? No Ministry official in their right mind would endorse such a move, of course. She could check that one out pretty much straight away.

Another nail in Draco's coffin...

She was back to Draco himself. Considering his lesser importance in the scheme of things, her questions regarding him were much more extensive, which didn't feel right somehow. In fact, some of them just felt plain nosy.

For example, was it really relevant that Lucius Malfoy hadn't stepped out of Malfoy Manor for four years? It was intriguing, but it hardly reflected on Draco's character - unless, of course, he'd murdered him, then squirreled his body under the floorboards - but one thing Hermione felt sure about when it came to Draco was that he was no killer. Besides, even if he had killed his father, (which she knew he hadn't - he idolised the prig) that would hardly wreck his credibility in Ron's eyes. Ron possibly hated Lucius even more than he hated Draco.

Then there was the wife or, rather, wives, both of whom appeared to have done a flit. Astoria's running off with her Brazilian Quidditch player, Feliu, had been a cause for hilarity some years ago, so much so that Hermione remembered Harry actually getting defensive of Draco... which had been a bizarre turn of events.

Hermione knew absolutely nothing about Draco's second wife except for the fact that she was very absent and, according to Ron, had been so for a very long time. Of course, that glamorous Sylvestra creature was currently installed in Draco's house, which might explain a few things, but this was the sort of stuff Witch Weekly was made of, and she never read Witch Weekly or garbage like it. And, really, when she thought about it, all of this had no bearing whatsoever on the case against Draco Malfoy that she was planning to compile for Ron.

On the contrary, multiple wives and a live-in lover? Salacious scandal and bonhomie with his investigating officer? Not to mention he was part owner of a Quidditch team?

Ron would be on that plane to Paraguay in no time.

Still. She had to start somewhere.

Hermione looked over to Padma, who did read Witch Weekly - under her desk, when she thought nobody was looking - and wondered if she had time for a coffee.

XXX

Trying to talk to Padma about anything beyond the pernicious Mr Jakes was proving something of an ordeal, Hermione realized.

The girl was obsessed. Or maybe possessed, judging by her hysterical tone and frantic arm-waving whenever she recounted yet another outrageous demand on her time and patience. Hermione was at least thankful, for Padma's sake, that they were the only customers, huddled at a corner table in a little Muggle coffee shop located close to the Ministry of Magic but far from any eavesdroppers.

She aimlessly stirred her tepid black coffee. Frankly, she was unable to dredge up the sort of blind hatred Padma clearly felt for Jakes. Yes, yes, she had the same memos piled high on her in-tray. But, really, Jakes was a toothless tiger. A busybody auditor. A bureaucratic rubber stamp.

This was all part of the Ministry's much-hailed 'New Brooms' campaign - effectively a shake-up and restructuring of each and every department - which had come into effect when the new Minister for Magic, Silas Witchell, had been instated in February that year.

They simply had to suffer Mr Jakes's unwanted attentions and complaints just a little longer, Hermione felt, and then he'd move on.

She had much more pressing concerns to deal with now.

'Padma,' she interrupted sharply, 'I'm looking for some background information.'

Padma halted her tirade, blinking rapidly, as though pulled unexpectedly from a deep trance.

'About Draco Malfoy,' Hermione said, keeping her voice as cool and steady as possible. She wanted this to sound professional.

Padma screwed up her nose in disgust, looking like she'd just discovered a dead fly floating in her coffee. 'That prick,' she snorted. 'What could you possibly want to know?'

Hermione cradled her coffee pensively. How should she approach this? She was used to being pretty blunt these days, but she didn't want anybody learning about Ron's nutty dealings with the guy, which made this awkward.

'I've - I've got a friend who's interested in working with him. For Herbal Healing.'

Padma looked relieved. 'Phew. I thought you were going to say you had a friend who wanted to date him.'

'That would be a tad difficult, wouldn't it? He's married.'

'Or so he says. Have you met his wife?'

'No... but Ron says he has.'

'When? Where?'

'He couldn't remember.'

'See?' Padma said smugly. 'Nobody ever does. A bit odd, that, don't you think?'

'A little,' Hermione agreed. She signalled to the passing waitress for a top-up of her coffee. 'Maybe she's not particularly memorable?'

Padma snorted with loud laughter, surprising the young waitress who nearly dropped the hot, steaming coffee pot she was carrying to their table.

'Did you ever meet Astoria? Not exactly a shrinking violet.'

'Maybe his tastes have changed?'

'Hardly. There was a string of witches after Astoria, all identi-kit. Same blond hair; same enhancements; same loud, raucous personality. I used to work with one, actually. At Arcana.'

Arcana. Now this was good, thought Hermione. A neat little segue from Malfoy's chequered love life to Padma's old boss, the mysterious Jeroboam.

'She used to talk non-stop about everyone and everything. Believe me, I knew more about Draco Malfoy than I ever wanted to know!' Padma continued. 'She hates him now, of course.'

Hermione knew she should move the conversation directly to Jeroboam while she had the chance, but burning (or human curiosity, as she liked to think of it) was getting the better of her.

'Why's that, then?'

Padma looked puzzled. 'Why does she hate him? I can hardly believe you just asked me that.' She pondered a moment. 'It was another girl. A blond and beautiful American who seemed good chums with the family. I met her at a work do.'

Sylvestra. It had to be. And yes... there had been a slight American twang to her voice when Hermione thought about it. Just a hint, though. At a guess, she'd been schooled in Europe.

'This was still when you worked at Arcana?'

'Oh yes. About the time the Malfoys were finally declared bankrupt.'

'Bankrupt? Are you sure?' Hermione asked, incredulous. How had she missed that golden nugget of news?

Padma nodded. 'Absolutely. I hate to admit it, but Draco's done well to turn things around, so if your friend's thinking about a job at Herbal Healing, they could do a lot worse, in my opinion. Anyway, this girl's father became a big investor in the company, so I figured it was more a relationship of convenience than anything else... Or so I told poor Agatha. She was pretty cut up over it all.'

That sounded typically like Malfoy, Hermione thought. Thinking he was onto bigger, better things, not caring who he hurt to get there.

'Anyway, Agatha's moved on.' Padma grinned. 'She's now the gossip columnist at the Daily Prophet.'

'You mean, Agatha Thrussington?'

'The one and only. Bit of a faux pas that, from Draco, don't you think?'

Hermione laughed, all the while thinking: Arcana, Jeroboam, Arcana. She had to switch topics. Padma had already checked her watch twice since they sat down.

Lucky Padma was a chatter-box.

'Mind you, I kind of miss all her silly tittle-tattle sometimes. Our office is so deadly serious, don't you think?'

'So do you miss working at Arcana, then?' Hermione asked, a little miffed.

Padma grimaced. 'Not really. It had its moments, and some decent folks worked there. I was stuck doing admin for the lab's legal department, which wasn't too thrilling. All pretty standard stuff, really: contracts, patents, waivers. Tony loves it there. Says he has the best lab facilities in Europe. He's very proud of the work they do.'

'And what is that, exactly? I forget - '

'Medi-Magic, healing the sick and old. Saving the wizarding world... That sort of thing. It's all a bit too evangelical for my liking. Everyone's in awe of Saint Saul - that's Mr Jeroboam, who owns the company - even though we never got to meet the man! Personally, I'd rather have worked at Medi-World.'

'Why's that?'

'Better pay, shorter working hours, less grovelling. Jeroboam might be the great white hope of the wizarding world, but he pays his staff peanuts.'

XXX

Not exactly a glowing endorsement of Jeroboam, Hermione thought as they walked back to the Ministry a little later than she had first anticipated. But, by the same token, she didn't feel the man could be considered the next Dark Lord, either, just because he was a bit stingy.

As for Draco? Sounded like a shifty little shit in the romance department, but that was hardly surprising. But to learn that the Malfoys had been bankrupt! No wonder Draco had been dirty-dealing in Dark Magic artifacts. The family had been broke.

There were three messages waiting on Hermione's desk. The first was a big blow to her plan to undermine Draco's credibility.

In answer to her question concerning Dark Flux's status as a Verifiable Imponderable, the archivist at the Department of Mysteries had confirmed that, yes, it had been removed from the list. Just last year, actually.

Exactly as Draco Malfoy had said.

There was no record of which official had permitted such a travesty, and no sign, either, of a Wizengamot hearing to discuss the matter, which was most peculiar.

The second message came in the form of a 'Case Report,' and was similarly troubling. Hermione had requested any historical data relating to Draco Malfoy - basically, case histories prior to any ongoing investigations. The resulting single parchment page listed a number of offences over a number of years, mainly minor infractions relating to missed court hearings and a persistent refusal to pay fines.

However, there were some offences that had been left blank. Completely blank. The date when Draco was charged was listed, but nothing more; Nothing incriminating. Besides, the charge sheets themselves were missing, including Draco's latest so-called infringement, six months ago, that he complained had incurred a hefty fine.

This must be the work of Draco's friends in high places that Ron had hinted at.

However, it was the third message that proved most shocking of all to Hermione. It came from her immediate boss within the department, informing her in the tersest of tones, that she had been summoned to a Ministry Tribunal, investigating her work practices, scheduled for Thursday next week.

XXX

'I can't believe it! I just can't bloody believe it!' Hermione was screeching, slamming dinner plates on to the kitchen table with such force that they nearly jumped straight off again.

'That Jakes is a miserable, lying bastard! Irregularities. Anomalies. Causes for Concern! What the hell is he going on about?'

Ron shook his head. 'Doesn't make sense.'

'I could be sacked!'

'No, Hermione, that's not going to happen.'

'Or... or they might try to move me out of the Department. Out of Level Two. Maybe to Level Ten. Or closer to the law courts in the bloody dungeons. Now wouldn't that be fitting?' she said a little hysterically. 'I think I'd shrivel up and die of embarrassment!'

'Come on, dear,' Ron said, wrapping his arms around her. 'You know you've done nothing wrong. It's probably just routine.'

Hermione pushed him away, a little more roughly than she had intended.

'Who the hell do they think I am? Some half-arsed twit who doesn't know what they're doing? I'm Hermione Granger, for fuck's sake!'

'Weasley, dear. You're Hermione Weasley,' Ron said, a strange look in his eye.

'I've worked so hard for that department! I've put my life and soul into that job. I've done more for Muggleborn rights in the last few years than anybody at the Ministry - and this is my reward? It's not bloody fair!'

'Children,' Ron hissed, indicating Hugo, who was standing pale-faced, rather forlorn, at the open kitchen door.

'Have you seen Elephant?' Hugo asked timidly, his eyes round as saucers.

Hermione tried to clear her mind, to take a deep breath and think, but she couldn't really.

'Nope. Can't picture it,' she sighed. 'Did you leave it at Granny's?'

Hugo shook his head mournfully,

'Can it wait? Mummy and Daddy are talking.'

Hugo bit his lip nervously, then shrugged resignedly before shuffling away to hunt for Elephant alone.

XXX

'I spotted Malfoy today at the ministry,' Hermione said, pouring herself a glass of dry white wine.

Finally, she was calm. Dinner had been eaten, Rose and Hugo were tucked up in bed, and Ron was reading the Daily Prophet at the kitchen table.

He didn't look up.

'He was talking to Tom Bennet. Works in Section B?' Hermione added.

Ron nodded. 'Yeah. Good guy.'

'Don't you think that's a bit odd, though?'

'Tom's his chief investigating officer. They have history,' Ron explained.

'Well, here's a thing. That history's been erased,' Hermione said in dramatic tones.

Ron continued reading.

Exasperated by his silence, Hermione tugged his newspaper out of reach, forcing him to look at her. 'I really think you should check out his case files, Ron. Before you go chasing off to Paraguay.'

'Bolivia, actually. Turns out it's a border town.'

'Well... wherever it is.'

'Look, Hermione,' Ron said, sighing heavily. 'I know all about Draco's record, more than you could imagine. I was his chief protection officer during the Angelotti trial in 2007. He was one of our key witnesses.'

'I didn't know that.'

'And why should you? That's my job. It's what I do... did.'

'And since then? Has his record been blameless?' Hermione asked with a sceptical sneer.

'Far from it. Like I've told you before, the prat can't keep out of trouble. His name's always attached, one way or another, to just about every Dark Magic deal that comes our way. Naturally, he denies most of it, but he's probably guilty as hell...'

'And this is the calibre of man you want to be working with? Come on, Ron, he's up to no good, and trying to drag you down with him. Why can't you see it?'

Ron shook his head vehemently, tapping his nose in a knowing manner. 'I've got an instinct on this one, Hermione.'

'But why you, of all people? Why not Auror Bennet?'

'Tom's a different department. Dark wizards planning mass murder isn't his bag.'

'Nor is it yours.'

'YES IT IS!' Ron shouted, jumping up from the dinner table. 'You might not want to believe it, Hermione, but I am now a Section A Auror. Like Harry.'

'Who, I strongly suspect, would be reporting Malfoy to his superiors.'

'No, he wouldn't. He'd be sticking close to the bastard to see exactly what he was up to.'

This gave Hermione momentary pause for thought. Did Ron know something she didn't?

'Look, Ron, it's simple. After all the things that were said and done at school -'

'School? Are you kidding me?' Ron exploded. 'That was bloody years ago. I can hardly remember school! A fair few things have happened since then, if you hadn't noticed. Now leave this alone, Hermione. I know what I'm doing!'

Then, to Hermione's surprise, Ron marched out of the room, leaving her with that rare queasy feeling that she had just lost an argument with her husband.

This had been her last stand. She couldn't stop Ron, she knew that, and now she had no choice but to let it all happen.