The Wild Hunt

December 22

Blaise's door gong rang sonorously, summoning him to the front door. He didn't know who would call at this time of night, but whoever it was hadn't set off his wards, so it was obviously somebody he knew. He threw the door open and looked down on the wet, bedraggled shape standing on his doorstep in the cold December rain.

She looked up at him apprehensively and said, "Hello Blaise. I... umm... Could you help me? Please?"

"No," he said flatly, and started to swing the door shut in her face.

Two small hands came out to prevent the door from closing. "Please, Blaise. I know you don't want to see me. I'm sorry I came here, but I didn't know where else to go."

Blaise sighed heavily and brought up a hand to knead the tense muscles of his neck. He threw open the door again. "Get in here Granger. You have five minutes to tell me what you want. Make it good."

She stepped into his entrance hall. Her long, tangled hair dripped water all over the marble tiles. Her face looked drawn and tired with dark shadows under her eyes, and her lips were blue from the cold.

"Damn it, Granger. Why didn't you cast a warming charm on yourself?"

"I don't have my wand," she said through chattering teeth. "I lost it."

He made an impatient sound. "Well, at least get out of that wet cloak," he said, lifting it off her shoulders and turning to hang it up on the cloak rack near the door. The charmed rack would dry it in a few minutes. At least he wouldn't have to feel guilty about making her wear a wet cloak when he threw her out of his home. Hermione tried to clutch the cloak to herself so he couldn't take it from her, but her fingers were stiff with cold and it slipped out of her grasp. Blaise turned back to his uninvited guest and got his second surprise of the evening. "Sweet Circe, what are you wearing?" he asked incredulously. "You look like a..."

"I know what I look like! No need to elaborate," she interrupted, tensely.

Blaise looked at her in disbelief. Hermione was wearing a low-necked, very short, satin dress in a shockingly bright shade of violet. She had on snakeskin, stiletto-heeled shoes with glittery ankle straps and black, fishnet stockings. He could tell they were stockings because her garters and the lacy tops of her stockings showed quite clearly below the hem of her skimpy dress. To complete the picture, she was wearing a velvet choker with a black rose on it, an impressive collection of cheap bangles, and more makeup than he had ever thought to see her wearing in all the years he'd known her.

He knew it would infuriate her so he said it anyway. "You look like a tart." He crossed his arms and looked her over in an insulting manner. "It looks quite natural, too. Do you dress like this all the time, now?" he sneered.

He expected her to get angry. He expected her to look at him with her flashing eyes, call him nasty names and tell him to go to hell. He didn't expect her to start shivering and crying. He looked down at her as a host of indecipherable expressions chased themselves across his face. Finally, with a certain amount of self-derision, he pulled her into the library and pushed her into an armchair by the fire. Granger had always been his one great weakness, damn her to hell for it. He poured a generous glass of Firewhiskey and pushed it into her hand. It was as cold as ice. He stepped out of the room and came back carrying a small beaker filled with a smoking, violet potion. He handed the beaker to her and tersely told her to drink it. "It'll make you feel better."

He moved a few steps away from her and propped his arm on the mantle, looking down at her broodingly. He waited until she had finished drinking the potion before he spoke again. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing here, Granger? It seems to me that this is the last place you'd want to be."

Hermione stared down at her glass of Firewhiskey. "I did something rather stupid."

"Who are a little wise the best fools be." When Hermione looked up at him in surprise at the Muggle quote, Blaise gave her a sardonic smile. "It wouldn't be the first time you've done something stupid, in my opinion. Why did you come to me, of all people, for help this time?"

"It's like I said. I couldn't think of anybody else." She took a sip of her Firewhiskey, shuddering slightly as it burned its way down her throat.

"Well, what is this about, woman?" Blaise asked impatiently. "Your five minutes are already up. If you didn't look so pathetic, you'd be out of here already."

"It's about my trial. I didn't do it, I swear. I knew I'd have to prove it if I don't want to end up in Azkaban. I am now officially on the run and a wanted witch."

"What are you talking about, Granger?" Blaise asked, straightening up from his studied casual pose in front of the mantle.

Hermione looked up at him in amazement. "You don't know? But it's been in the Prophet!"

"I've been out of the country." Blaise got himself a much-needed glass if Firewhiskey and slouched down into the chair across from her. "Now, tell me the story from the beginning."

"I've been accused of trafficking controlled potions," Hermione said. She ignored Blaise's disbelieving look and ploughed on. "I don't know why, but somebody is trying to frame me. Some very suspicious evidence was found in my flat." She made a gesture that took in her skimpy costume. "That's why I look like this. I got a tip and I went to a seedy, wizard-owned bar in Muggle-London called The Abandoned Hope. I was trying to get more information about the person who is behind this. But it was a trap. It's hopeless. I have to leave the country," she said with a shudder.

Blaise leant his head against the chair back and scrubbed a hand over his face. "How do you get yourself into these messes, Granger?" He focused his baleful gaze on her. "You are nothing but trouble." He stood up abruptly and started walking toward the door. "I'm going to see what I can find out. You stay in here. Don't cause any trouble while I'm gone." He paused in the doorway to look back at her. "In fact, I think I'll ward the door so you can't go wandering about."

Blaise was as good as his word. He closed the library door and warded it. A moment later, Hermione heard the tell-tale 'pop' that told her he had Disapparated. Feeling restless, she got up and looked around the library. Many of the books were familiar to her. She was surprised that he still had the books she'd given him. She hadn't expected that. She walked over to the desk and sat down in the large, cushy chair. There was a large, heavy book bound in a dark, aubergine leather resting on the desk. It was a book of Muggle poetry. How strange! She opened the book, wondering when Blaise had developed a taste for Muggle poetry. It fell open naturally to one of Byron's poems. Blaise must have turned to this page often. Her eyes fell on one of the stanzas printed on the page in front of her.

They name thee before me,

A knell to mine ear;

A shudder comes o'er me -

Why wert thou so dear?

They know not I knew thee,

Who knew thee too well -

Long, long shall I rue thee,

Too deeply to tell.

She clapped the book shut again, wishing she hadn't looked in it. She didn't want to consider why Blaise was reading such depressing love poetry.

Hermione was exhausted, but she couldn't seem to sit still. She walked around the library randomly pulling books from the shelf and glancing through them. Where had Blaise gone? When would he get back? She was just starting to get anxious when she heard the small popping sound of somebody Apparating again. She turned and stared at the door tensely.

Blaise stalked through the door a moment later. "You have managed to make some very powerful enemies, Granger."

"You found out who did it?" Hermione asked, hopefully.

"Not yet. You didn't think it would be that easy, did you? I just know it's somebody with a lot of influence in the Ministry. You are in very deep trouble. Oh, and you failed to mention that you lost your wand at The Abandoned Hope. It's been confiscated." Blaise glared at her. "Malfoy has been hired to track you down and bring you back for your trial. You have given him the means to find you. Well done."

"Oh no!" Hermione breathed.

"Oh yes. Don't think he won't enjoy every minute of it, too. We'll be leaving in a few minutes. Be ready," Blaise said, starting to turn away.

"Do you have some other clothes I could wear?" Hermione asked, uncomfortably aware of how short and tight her dress was.

"No," Blaise said with a nasty smile. "I think I quite like the way you look. You can keep that on. It suits you."

"Do you have to be so beastly to me? Would it hurt you to try and be a decent human being?"

Blaise snarled, pulling her close with a jerk so that she stumbled against him. Roughly, he lifted her chin and slammed his mouth down on hers. He had never kissed her like that before. His kisses had always been slow, drugging kisses that made all the thoughts fly out of her head. He had never kissed her in anger. When she whimpered, more in grief at what she had lost, than in actual pain, he abruptly let her go. Hermione stared into his eyes, which were as cold and hard as onyx. "As you so kindly pointed out when you broke off our engagement, it isn't in my nature to be a decent human being," he said, raggedly.

"I was wrong," Hermione whispered.

He stared at her a while longer and then turned away. "You were wrong about a lot of things," he growled. He summoned a house elf and barked out some instructions.

***

At the same time that Hermione was waiting anxiously for Blaise to return home, some wizards in Diagon Alley were getting ready to apprehend her.

Theodore Nott sauntered into the office. He usually liked his job. Sneaking around apprehending people was a lot of fun, especially if they were influential ministry employees. He always loved causing trouble for influential ministry employees. He wasn't so sure about Granger though. He remembered her from Hogwarts and she had never seemed the type to traffic controlled potions. She always seemed so straight-laced. And nice. Out of all the Gryffindors, she had been the only one who'd been nice to him when his father was exposed as a Death Eater. She hadn't assumed that he must also be a Death Eater just because of the association with his father. He just wasn't sure about this assignment. Theo found Hannah already in the office, frowning down at a report.

Hannah glanced up when she heard him enter and smiled at him. Theo slung an arm over her shoulders and looked at the report she was holding. It was about Granger. "What d'you reckon, Hannah?" he asked, reading over the details.

"I don't know Theo. It's hard to believe Hermione would do something like that, isn't it?" She shook her head.

Draco strode into the room, obviously filled with purpose. He had it in for Hermione and had been hoping for a chance like this ever since she'd jilted his best mate. His eyes were glittering with anticipation. "Ready to go, you two?"

"I suppose," Hannah mumbled. "Are you really sure about this?"

"Of course I'm sure about this," Draco snapped. "We've been hired to bring Granger in, and it will give me the greatest pleasure to drag her to Azkaban myself." He stalked into his office to get Hermione's wand. They would use it to track her.

After watching him leave the room, Theo turned to Hannah. "Kiss for luck?" he asked, hopefully.

Hannah stretched up to give him a kiss that made him feel a trifle weak in the knees. "How can I resist a man who hangs Christmas ornaments from his hair, just for me?" she murmured.

***

Draco, Theo and Hannah were closing in on Hermione's location. They were still a fair distance from Blaise Zabini's home when Draco realised where she must have gone. "Damn it, why can't she just leave him alone?" he muttered, darkly. He didn't like that she was dragging his friend into her problems. But there was nothing for it. He'd been hired to bring her in and he was determined to do it. He just hoped Blaise wouldn't get in the way.

***

Blaise suddenly paused in the middle of a comment on Hermione's general stupidity and looked toward the front of the house. "Somebody just set off the wards," he said, abruptly

"Malfoy?"

"He wouldn't have set them off. He might be out there, but somebody else is with him." Blaise quickly walked to the entryway extinguishing the lights as he went, and peered out through the long, narrow window next to the door. "I can see at least two people. One is Malfoy. The other... wait, look at that hair. It has to be Theo Nott."

They could hear Malfoy yelling something. Blaise cautiously moved to the door and opened it a crack so he could hear what his friend was saying.

"Blaise, I know you're listening to me. We're here for Granger. Just send her out here and she won't get hurt. We just want to take her back for her trial."

Blaise didn't say anything. He leant against the doorjamb, looking like he was fighting an internal battle. Hermione watched him, wondering what he was going to do. Would he turn her in? Or would he help her?

Finally, Blaise turned back to the opening in the door. "I'm sorry, Draco. I can't let you have her, quite yet. We have some things we need to do."

"Blaise, don't be daft. She threw you over. She doesn't care about you. Why are you risking your own freedom to help her?" Hermione could hear concern and frustration in Malfoy's voice.

Blaise didn't answer his question.

"Draco mate... I hate to do this..." Without warning, Blaise swung open the door and threw himself to the floor, muttering an incantation.

There was a startled yelp and a thud. Then there was the sound of a small, muffled explosion, closely followed by clouds of smoke and a shower of violet sparks. Blaise leapt to his feet and grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her down the hall and into the library again. He closed the door and sealed it with a flick of his wand.

"What did you just do?" Hermione asked him.

"Well Granger," he said in a very matter-of-fact tone, "I just blew up your wand."

Hermione looked at him with a mixture of anger and dismay. "Blew it up? But now I don't have a wand!" she exclaimed.

"You didn't have it anyway," Blaise pointed out, quickly walking over to the sofa where the house elf had left their cloaks and a leather duffle bag. He threw her cloak over to her. "It's better this way. There was no chance I could get it away from Draco and if he still had it, they'd just use it to track you again."

"But I can't do any magic without a wand!"

"Lucky for you that you have a barmy pillock with a wand who's willing to help you, isn't it?" Blaise snapped, donning his long, heavy cloak.

"Blaise, why are you helping me?"

"Get ready to Apparate," Blaise said, ignoring her question. He wrapped his arms around her and a moment later, Hermione felt the momentary disorientation that came with Apparition. She looked around at her dark, ominous surroundings.

"Where are we?" she asked, apprehensively.

"Knockturn Alley."