Blood of Mud, Wing of Bat

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Chapter 40: Would You Like Spies with That?

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A heavy rain had started up, thoroughly soaking St. Mungo's courtyard and Apparition platform. A Pillow-Wisp tethered overhead suffused the area with a cold brilliant white light, and droplets of moisture formed illuminated halos around everything and everyone. People's breaths puffed out like dragons' steam in the chilly air. Despite it being well after midnight there were three dozen Auror Special Operations staff people there, from Aurors to technicians to aides, all busily trying to figure out just how Hermione had "Apparated" from within the wards. Representatives of the Department of Apparition Enforcement, however, were conspicuously absent.

By the time Nesbitt and Malfoy emerged from the building, Malfoy was no longer struggling, but instead allowing himself to be towed stiffly along. He also had a dot of blood marring his lip. Perhaps they'd had one of Nesbitt's little persuasive sessions in the stairwell. If the others noticed, they gave no sign; people didn't last long on Nesbitt's crew if they noticed those sorts of things.

"You're wasting your time," Malfoy said resentfully as Nesbitt hauled him into the brightly-lit area underneath the Pillow-Wisp. "If it was through the wards, it wasn't an Apparition."

"Oh, yes it was," said Nesbitt. He sounded almost gleeful.

"No, it wasn't," Malfoy insisted. "These wards can't be Apparated through - I helped rebuild them myself last year. They're impervious."

"Except to Weasley," Nesbitt pointed out, as they passed through some glowing lines and arrows someone had put there to show the wards and the spot where Hermione had seemingly vanished.

They arrived at a large portable table upon which hundreds of crystal balls were crowded. Each ball was in its own raindrop-beaded plastic evidence-bag. They appeared to be recordable media from various news-teams. Technicians clustered around them, signing them in and out and studying magically waterproofed sheafs of paper with lists of the balls' contents.

Malfoy's pale eyes barely skimmed the setup before returning to Nesbitt. "Except to anybody! If I can't do it, no one can."

"Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy," laughed Nesbitt. "It's clear you're simply jealous that a Muggle-born witch has figured out how to do it and you haven't." He pushed Malfoy in the general direction of the table and let go, forcing him to grab quickly at the edge of it for support or risk falling.

Malfoy ignored the glares of the staff people he'd knocked into; his attention was all for Nesbitt.

"It could have been anything," he insisted, clinging to the table. "Extraplanar travel -"

"Which St. Mungo's has also been warded against," Nesbitt reminded him. An aide handed him a thick sheaf of waterproof-charmed papers which he began to thumb through.

"Against normal extraplanar travel. But Trelawney said Weasley has had episodes of existential incoherence - "

"Poppycock," said Nesbitt succinctly, handing that report back to the aide and accepting another one.

"But if she were a tiny Animagus, then," said Malfoy. "The relevance filters on the recordings would cut out some insects -"

"There's no known case of an insect Animagus," Nesbitt pointed out. "And if there was a rat or some such, we'd have found it."

Of course Malfoy would know full well there was at least one insect Animagus in the world; he'd been privy to Rita Skeeter's secret even longer than Hermione had. But it was also true that most magical recordings of people and events intentionally omitted things like flies and rubbish as unsightly clutter. Hermione had never worried about being recorded on the news for that very reason.

"Even so," said Malfoy as Nesbitt moved away from him to reach for a thick binder of papers lying at the other end of the table. "And if it was an Apparition, it'd have to have been an indirect one. She may have accidentally deflected off the edge of the wards. She was close to the edge, and theoretically -"

Nesbitt reversed course and came face to face with Malfoy, smacking him in the chest with the binder. "Here. Why don't you park yourself somewhere and amuse yourself with this until we're ready for you? And have you ever reflected off the edge of Apparition wards?"

Malfoy took the binder reflexively as he was pushed back a step. "No… but…."

"I didn't think so." Nesbitt grinned a predator's grin. He turned away and started giving orders to some of the other staff.

Malfoy closed his mouth firmly and his nostrils flared. He took a half-step after Nesbitt, but one of the aides moved to intercept. "I wouldn't get in Mr. Nesbitt's way if I were you," she said quietly as she took him by the elbow and steered him away from the table. "No disrespect intended, Mr. Malfoy, but he's a very busy man. Why don't you just sit here until he needs you for something?"

Malfoy huffed in annoyance but let her sit him down in a wooden St. Mungo's lobby chair someone had left under the Pillow-Wisp's intense light. "Fine," he muttered under his breath.

Unlike everybody else, Malfoy hadn't a wand to charm himself against the rain and so his hair and clothes were already matted with water and his fingers left droplets on the binder's protections. As distracting literature went, the binder's contents were pretty dull stuff: lists of people, animals, weather phenomena and so forth and the time/date stamp of the sighting and which media balls the sighting had been recorded on. Malfoy flipped randomly through it for all of four or five seconds before he looked impatiently to where Nesbitt was talking to some of the workers.

---

Hermione knew as well as Malfoy did that Apparition through properly-constructed Apparition wards was impossible. The wards operated on the principle that preventing magic was much easier than making it happen, and to prevent the magical movement past the ward all that was required was to set impossible conditions to be met.

A simple Apparition ward for the Burrow, for example, might be built on the premise that one must be a member of the Weasley family to Apparate to that location. Of course, if someone new married into the family or if there was a previously unknown family member lurking about, those people would be included also - possibly without the ward's caster's knowledge. Therefore serious Apparition wards were usually built with many layers of rigorous conditions.

Commercial Apparition wards usually began with a fundamental prohibition based on the unsolved Great Mysteries of the wizarding world. A second layer included a requirement that the Apparater have permission from some specific person or persons, usually someone who didn't hand this permission out to just anybody. In the case of extremely tight wards where nobody was expected to get through, the permission-granting person might have been dead for centuries or never existed in the first place.

Several other layers would follow depending upon the preferences of the people who were building the wards, ending in a few "special touches" unique to those builders. These special touches might include backdoors knowable by only one person, or emergency conditions which could be met on an as-needed basis by certain people. On wards as extensive and highly-contested as St. Mungo's, any such "special" conditions would have been limited to those agreed upon by a committee of the wards' builders. For safety's sake it was always best to have a team of ward-builders who didn't like each other very much, in order to ensure the tightest possible warding. Likely that's how Malfoy had become involved in the rebuilding of St. Mungo's wards; he did contribute a good deal of money to St. Mungo's and it was safe to say most of the other people involved in rebuilding the wards wouldn't trust him in the least. The combination of extraordinary expertise, vested interest and unlikeability made him perfect for the job.

No matter who had worked on them though, St. Mungo's wards had always set a standard for security and were considered absolutely unbreakable by anyone who knew Apparition wards. Hermione could see why Malfoy would freak out at the idea of potentially losing his own Apparition privileges for any reason - the idea losing them because of paranoia on the part of an ignorant government had to be even worse.

But Hermione had herself to think about too. The same ignorance that threatened Malfoy also protected her. So long as Nesbitt remained convinced it was a real Apparition he wouldn't take the alternate theories as seriously as he ought to, and that was all to Hermione's advantage. It went without question that Hermione could not allow a single person to find out about her Animagus form now. It'd be Azkaban for certain if they did.

---

By the time Nesbitt returned some forty-five minutes later, Malfoy was shivering miserably, his robes thoroughly damp and his whitish hair plastered down. He'd finally resorted to occupying himself with the binder, muttering imprecations and pinching the corners of the pages of listings. For her part Hermione had been forced to retreat upward and land on the brilliant underside of the Pillow-Wisp where it was warm and dry and nobody would be able to see her for the glare.

From above she watched as Nesbitt strode over to Malfoy and handed him a bludger-sized crystal ball in a bag. Through the wet plastic Hermione could faintly see human figures moving around within the ball. "Here," Nesbitt said triumphantly. "There are three different angles. Have a look and we'll see what you think then."

"If you're going to keep me here all night," said Malfoy peevishly, "the least you could do is provide me with a water-repellant charm. I'm soaking wet and half frozen. And how do you expect me to See anything in light like this? I won't stand for this treatment. Arthur Weasley will -"

"He'll laugh in your face," said Nesbitt heavily, his good mood evaporating quickly. "Use your hand to shade the ball, and for the love of Merlin, stop whining. I've seen agents with both legs blown off show more fortitude than you do. It's only a bit of rain."

Malfoy growled and snatched the bag from Nesbitt. Hermione dared to steal down from above and land on the back of his chair where she could see better too.

Inside of the ball, her miniature self drew her wand and 'Apparated' away, the reporters closing the gap. Because it had been caught by news recordings, thousands of witches and wizards must have seen it by now. Worse yet, the recordings would always be there to be examined again and again! Never before had her snap transformation faced such an awful test.

Still, it looked very good from what she could see. She certainly would have been fooled. Malfoy grew very still and quiet as he watched, and said nothing as it finished through to the end and started over again from a different angle. He watched all three sequences twice before Nesbitt reached over and took the ball away from him.

"Well?" demanded the Auror.

"I have no explanation for this," said Malfoy. He seemed tired and troubled.

"So you believe it was an Apparition, now?"

"It looked like an Apparition," admitted Malfoy. "But I still don't see how it could be possible. I'd be looking into the alternatives first."

"What alternatives?" Nesbitt grinned mockingly. "Those ridiculous notions you were throwing out earlier out of sheer denial? Perhaps Weasley transformed herself into a puff of wind and simply blew away over the wall…?"

Malfoy's lips tightened. "It wouldn't have to be a transformation. If she knew a spell to turn herself invisible, for example, she could have -"

Nesbitt interrupted with a bray of laughter. "Invisible! Really, you're too much. Why can't you just admit it - she's outdone you!"

"This whole investigation is a sham!" said Malfoy furiously, his already frayed temper starting to give way. "I don't think you want to know how she did it at all - you're just using it as yet another excuse to harass me."

"We do want to know how she did it," said Nesbitt.

"For your restraint charm, to harass me even more," said Malfoy bitterly.

"And for other reasons," Nesbitt assured him. "Very good other reasons."

"What, so you can get dirt on Weasley you can use against her father-in-law?" Malfoy retorted.

"Can you blame us?" countered Nesbitt easily. "She did leave the opportunity wide open."

"Look, Arthur Weasley could go up in flames for all I care, but I had nothing to do with whatever-she-did," snarled Malfoy. "And you should talk about leaving things wide open - your data is full of holes a dragon could fly through." He shook the binder. "There's not a single insect on this list - that probably means the recordings have been relevance-filtered and God knows what other possible clues have been lost. And your documentation is unforgivably shoddy. I personally saw a mouse that isn't listed here. I saw it once after we Apparated onto the platform, and then again as it ran into St. Mungo's ahead of me. Dozens of recordings must have picked it up. It'd take a single day in a court of law to prove your investigation is incompetent at best, and biased at worst!"

"I'll take that now," said Benkmann, stepping in from one side to remove the binder from Malfoy's hand.

Nesbitt only grinned. "This was just gravy anyway," he gloated. "We don't really need proof. All we need do is display the evidence of the things you have done Apparition-wise over the years, and any reasonable person will have no doubt Weasley learned that stunt from you. You don't have a chance. We'll get our restraint charm, all right."

Malfoy's face pinked in fury. For a moment he couldn't seem to speak at all. Then he hissed, "Auror Affairs will -"

"Be realistic, Malfoy. Since when has Auror Affairs paid any attention to the complaints of criminals like you? It's there to protect the rights of citizens, not Death Eaters. Speaking of which, is your Dark Mark hurting you?"

Hermione realized only then that over the last several minutes Malfoy's posture had become increasingly defensive, drawn in, as if he were cringing from something that could not be gotten away from.

"Go hex yourself," retorted Malfoy.

"I'll take that as a yes," said Nesbitt dryly. "Standish, make a note. 2:45AM, detainee showing signs of stress, and pain in the left forearm."

"Like hell," said Malfoy.

Nesbitt smiled sardonically and reached for Malfoy's arm, but Malfoy shrank back into his chair, the limb in question pressed against his middle.

"I thought so," said Nesbitt. "Standish, also make a note that the detainee resisted inspection of the arm in question."

Malfoy shot Nesbitt a glare of loathing. Nesbitt smiled.

"Problem, Malfoy?"

"Nothing that boiling you in oil wouldn't solve," said Malfoy, baring his teeth. Nesbitt only laughed.

---

Apparently Nesbitt had only sought out Malfoy for the purpose of gloating about the perfect 'Apparition' shown in the crystal ball, because he soon returned to where the others were working.

Benkmann rushed to meet him. "Excuse me, sir, but Westmacott's lads have done a quick bit of investigating, and they've found something important. Just as Weasley and Malfoy Apparated onto the platform, a mouse just ran out from under Weasley's robe."

"So?" snorted Nesbitt. "Have you seen how she keeps house? I wouldn't be surprised if a chicken and a handful of empty beer cans fell out of there next."

"Well, just as Malfoy said, it was missed during the inventory," Benkmann noted. "It's not on the master list, sir."

There was a pause.

"Son of a bitch," swore Nesbitt.

"I beg your pardon, sir?" said Benkmann.

"Where's Westmacott? Get his arse over here immediately."

Roger Westmacott was a balding, harassed-looking wizard Hermione knew from her days as a Ministry Library researcher. He'd worked his way up from file-clerk to forensics specialist in various departments of the Ministry, before a mid-life crisis led to him undergoing belated Auror training and being tapped by Nesbitt for his lead investigator some four years ago. Right at the moment, Westmacott looked as if he thought he could have saved himself a lot of trouble by staying a file-clerk.

"You wanted to see me sir?" he asked with trepidation.

"What's this I hear about your records being incomplete?" demanded Nesbitt. "A mouse in plain view that wasn't noted down?"

"Oh you see, Mr. Nesbitt sir," said Westmacott, nearly bowing in his attempt to appear cooperative. "This sort of investigation normally takes many weeks. To do it so quickly, well, of course much of the detail must be omitted. But over time -"

"We haven't got time," Nesbitt snarled. We're to take his Apparition license in a court of law in less than thirty-six hours. We'll need every scrap of evidence we can get."

So much for the notion that they didn't really need any proof, thought Hermione.

"Sir, I'm sorry, but -" began Westmacott.

"Let's see this mouse."

"Pardon me--?"

"The mouse of his," said Nesbitt. "Let's see it."

"Oh, of course sir. Right this way, sir."

Westmacott led Nesbitt to the table of balls and showed him a largish fist-sized one that appeared to be the payload of a Flying-I. The scene in question was already playing out inside. Hermione landed overhead to have a look, then couldn't believe her eyes. A mouse had run out from under her robes, between her feet, and leaped off the platform.

"You… inutterable… idiots!" swore Nesbitt.

Benkmann and Westmacott cringed into identical what-did-we-do-now postures.

"That isn't a mouse, that's one of Urban Recon's. She's assigned to Weasley as a tail. Malfoy's playing you for a fool!"

"That mouse is Cov Ops?" said Benkmann, looking greenish.

"Oh dear," said Westmacott.

"The devil take all ickle-Aurors!" Nesbitt barked. "I'd be better off working with apes and nifflers!"

By now the Apparition investigation had halted completely and everybody was standing around in a circle, watching Nesbitt in a sort of horrified fascination. Westmacott was practically leaning backward under the force of Nesbitt's shout.

"How many times have I told you, Malfoy is not to be underestimated? If only the thrice-damned people in Auror Affairs would let me do as I wish, I could take him out permanently and all of this could be over with cleanly! But no, I'm left to pussyfoot around the bastard and be constantly tripped up by the likes of you!" Nesbitt turned to Benkmann. "And you!"

"Sorry, sir," said Benkmann, looking thoroughly crestfallen.

"Don't even let me get started about you. Your days - all four of them - as my partner are over the moment I can get in to submit the paperwork."

"No - Mr. Nesbitt sir -" began the younger Auror.

"Don't you No-Mr.-Nesbitt-sir me. And stay out of my sight!"

A pale-faced Benkmann took a couple of steps back, eyes darting from side to side as he presumably tried to figure out how to salvage his career before it was too late.

As for Hermione, she was perfectly gobsmacked. She knew the Cov Ops agent in question. She'd known her for years, in fact, from Arthur's parties and get-togethers. She'd even known that Eliza Crom's main disguise for her work in Urban Recon was a gray-and-black tabby cat, and that her secondary was a mouse.

That cat that had followed Hermione home from St. Mungo's had been no accident. It had been Eliza Crom, or in Cov Ops parlance, Crouching Tigress. How else to explain the cat running through the Floo with her? How else to explain the sound of a Disapparition in an empty house, and the cat being missing afterward? Crom must have changed from a mouse to a cat halfway to the lobby, then staked out the only empty chairs in the place hoping that Hermione would still be with Malfoy when he arrived. Then for whatever reason - either on a hunch or simply not knowing Hermione had supposedly Apparated away - Crom had spotted Hermione going into the floo later and darted to follow.

How long had Hermione personally been under surveillance? Since meeting with Malfoy the first time? Longer? Somehow she'd thought she was not important enough for the Aurors to waste time on, but after what had happened to the Burrow how could she have ever doubted it? Of course they'd be spying on her. She was well and truly into the thick of this mess.

It was impossible to bump one's forehead against a wall as a fly without poking oneself in the eye, but Hermione managed a close approximation by pressing her stomach despairingly against the slick surface of the Pillow-wisp.

---

After he was done castigating his employees, Nesbitt turned and strode purposefully back to where he had left his detainee. Malfoy was sitting huddled, hugging himself against the cold and, presumably, the call of his Dark Mark. He looked up as Nesbitt approached, a half-smirk on his face. However, anything he might have been about to say regarding the exchange with Westmacott and Benkmann was apparently forgotten as without a word, the Auror bent down and grabbed him firmly by the arm. Malfoy tried to scramble back away, but too late; Nesbitt hauled him to his feet and he had no choice but to follow.

"What are you -" began Malfoy, but his voice cut off as Nesbitt gave him a nasty punch in the ribs. The Auror then forcibly led Malfoy out from under the Pillow-Wisp to where the rain was still pouring down. Nesbitt was wearing an impervious charm, but Malfoy was quickly soaked to the bone. Hermione circled once in their wake, loathe to fly where it was raining hard enough to knock her out of the sky and wash her away, then finally landed on the underside of the Pillow-Wisp again, as close to the edge as she could.

The wall of the courtyard was nearer here, and there was a large downspout from which a torrent of water from the roof was cascading into a stone-lined trough and away. The sound of the water would easily prevent the others from hearing their words.

"I tried to make this easy for you," said Nesbitt. "Merlin knows I didn't want to, but with Arthur Weasley meddling in everything one has to make concessions. What Weasley doesn't understand is that people like you just don't respond to good treatment. All you understand is avoiding punishment. It's why you're You-Know-Who's golden boy, isn't it? All it takes is a bit of a threat, a bit of personal discomfort, and you'll do anything. Just like your father."

He shoved Malfoy down hard as he emphasized the final word, forcing the smaller wizard to his hands and knees in the fast-flowing water of the drainage trough. Then he crouched down and grabbed Malfoy by the back of the neck, preventing him from rising. Through pale hair made translucent by water, Hermione could see black tattooing all over the back of Malfoy's neck. The marking was winged, and had tiny orange lights for eyes. Another surrogate, she thought, sickened.

"That was a cute trick sending us chasing after Cov Ops like that," said Nesbitt, keeping his voice down for Malfoy's ears only. "Very impressive. You spend so much time covering up by playing stupid these days one rarely gets a chance to see you display your intelligence anymore."

Completely drenched, and with his smallish stature and all-fours posture, Malfoy resembled the half-drowned rat of cliché fame. "Let me up," he grimaced.

"All you've done so far is feed me bullshit," said Nesbitt. "If there were a hundred ways Weasley could have done that besides Apparating, you'd have named them all. I reckon there's only one way we'll find out if you can do what she did or not, though, isn't there?"

"What -" began Malfoy, but again he was cut off as Nesbitt shoved him roughly downward, let go of him, then rose to his feet and pulled a wand out of his pocket. He backed up a few steps and tossed the wand so it clattered to the flagstones near Malfoy.

"Go on, take it."

Malfoy stared at him in lack of comprehension, then reached for the wand, pale fingers scrabbling in the puddled water. When he had it in hand, Nesbitt drew his own wand and aimed it at Malfoy.

"Now Apparate!" he ordered him.

"What!" exclaimed Malfoy. "You're mad!" He tried to scramble to his feet, clumsy with cold and hampered by his sodden robes.

"If you need incentive, I'll be more than happy to supply it," said Nesbitt, aiming a jet of red sparks from his wand toward Malfoy's chest.

Malfoy's eyes widened and he lunged to barely avoid the sparks, then tucked shoulder to turn his dive into an awkward roll, coming up in an almost-crouch. It would have been a lot more impressive if he hadn't followed through by tipping over and sprawling on the ground again. It was obvious that between the cold and wet and the last of the Paralyzing Draught, he was in no condition to be dueling.

"Well, get up then," said Nesbitt impatiently. "I want to see you try to Apparate. I already know you can dodge. And a lot better than that, usually." He aimed another spurt of sparks and this time Malfoy wasn't able to jerk backward quickly enough, catching them in the face and upper body.

"Ow!" he bellowed, instantly furious. "Damn you, Nesbitt!" He hurled himself to his feet, the wand gripped white-knuckle in a position not usually used for Apparition. "Try that again, you fuck."

"I wouldn't point that at me if I were you," Nesbitt warned him. Hermione realized that half the Aurors and other personnel in the courtyard had come nearer in response to the hexes thrown, and many of them had wands out at the ready.

Malfoy's eyes flitted over them, his breath coming out in bursts of steam. He was obviously outnumbered. After a moment, his shoulders slumped in resignation and he raised the wand tip-up.

"Much better," said Nesbitt. "Now go over there and stand on the X and try to Apparate for us."

Malfoy's lips tightened, and he moved stiffly past Nesbitt and out of the rain into the area under the Pillow-wisp's light. The other Aurors fell back to give him access to the glowing X that marked Hermione's 'Apparition' point. She noticed that most of them kept their wands out and trained on Malfoy at the ready.

When he reached the X, he turned to face Nesbitt, water dribbling from every part of him.

"You're wasting your time," he said.

"I don't think so," said Nesbitt. "Go on, do it."

Malfoy scowled and lifted the wand. He made the motion for Apparition but nothing happened except that he jerked as if struck. He took a step back to catch his balance, then after a moment he lowered the wand to his side and looked at Nesbitt with a hate-filled glare.

"Mm," said Nesbitt, appearing unconvinced. "Too controlled."

"Too controlled?" said Malfoy carefully, giving the impression that he was, in fact, barely in control just at the moment.

"You could have been faking the rejection," said Nesbitt. "I want to see you lose your head completely, so you're not thinking straight, so we know you really tried to Apparate."

Malfoy's lip curled in an awful sneer. "Forget it!" he snapped.

"I'd rather not," said Nesbitt. He raised his wand and fired a bolt of pseudo-lightning at Malfoy's chest. Malfoy barely had time to flinch before it struck him full on and knocked him over. He landed with a grunt and an oath, the wand bouncing out of his hand and clattering across the stones.

"Ha," said Nesbitt.

Malfoy snarled and shoved himself up, chasing after the wand but slowed down by his sopping wet clothing.

"You've got to do better than that, Malfoy," said Nesbitt, laughing. "I expect this investigation to provide results."

"I expect you're a bloody lunatic," Malfoy panted harshly. He snatched up the wand and turned defensively to face Nesbitt, shoving wet hair out of his face.

"On the X," said Nesbitt.

"Eat shit," said Malfoy. The end of his wand was trembling, either from cold or adrenaline.

"I'll keep you here all morning and the rest of the day if I have to," said Nesbitt. "It's up to you." He aimed his wand again.

"You can't get away with this," said Malfoy, even as he backed toward the X again.

"I don't see why not," said Nesbitt. "Go on, try again."

Malfoy huffed and raised his wand. Again he tried to Apparate. The wards repelled him, and he staggered.

"You're still not trying hard enough," said Nesbitt. He aimed at Malfoy and let fly with another bolt of electricity. Malfoy twisted aside, only barely avoiding getting hit.

"It's not how hard I'm trying," said Malfoy furiously, breath coming hard. "The wards are perfect. There's nothing wrong with them."

"We'll see about that," said Nesbitt calmly. He fired again, striking Malfoy in the shoulder hard enough to spin him back a half-step and wrench a cry of frustration from him.

"Damn it… Nesbitt!"

"Less talking, more Apparating," said Nesbitt. "The sooner you do it, the sooner this'll all be over."

"I can't, you mad bastard!" Malfoy yelled back, his voice breaking with stress. "Nobody can!"

"He's not faking, sir," said Benkmann, who'd come up behind his soon-to-be-ex-partner.

"You're not to be watching this," said Nesbitt. He fired off another shot, causing Malfoy to curl and take it on the shoulder deliberately, breath hissing through his teeth.

"Look," said Benkmann. "We're going to be in hot water with Mr. Weasley - and Mr. Duncan too. You can't be cursing people while you're supposed to be questioning them. He's not even a suspect." Evidently Benkmann had decided he had no hope of keeping his job, because this certainly wasn't the way to go about doing that!

"What they fail to teach you people in school these days," said Nesbitt, "is that most things in life aren't black and white. Rules and laws are for snakes like Malfoy there to bend to his advantage, and he counts on people like us to stand back and allow ourselves to be constrained. Now, this might be your last chance to learn something before you find yourself employed demonstrating emergency preparedness procedures to six-through-ten year olds for the rest of your miserable existence, so if you refuse to ignore it like I asked you to, then I suggest you shut your mouth, stand back, and pay attention." He aimed carefully.

"But -"

Zap! Nesbitt fired again, managing to connect squarely with Malfoy's wand hand. The wand was blasted free with a snap of electricity and a cry from Malfoy. The other Aurors murmured in appreciation of the excellent shot as the wand bounced to the flagstones.

Apparently Malfoy himself was nowhere near as appreciative. His pale eyes carried the most awful look of hatred, and a touch of insanity as well, hinting at the strain so many years of Auror harassment must have put him under. "Having fun with your target practice?" he hissed malevolently, hugging his left hand tightly against himself with his other hand. "Why don't you face me in a real duel for once?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy," said Nesbitt. "And do pick up your wand." His own wand flicked impatiently as Malfoy moved slowly toward the wand on the ground, then emitted red sparks that forced Malfoy to jump forward hastily to avoid getting hit. Then, with a particularly nasty look on his face, Nesbitt fired another pseudo-bolt just as Malfoy reached for the fallen wand. Zap! Again it connected with his wand hand and Malfoy spun away hunched over, leaving the wand where it lay.

"You filthy dog," gasped Malfoy. "You inutterable bastard!"

"You were too slow," said Nesbitt with a shrug.

There was a pause as Malfoy presumably attempted to recover enough to face Nesbitt again. "So this is how it's going to be," he said.

"It is," said Nesbitt.

"I see," said Malfoy. "Right, then."

And that's when it happened.

---

It happened in a blur of flashing curses, shouts and screams. Only afterward was Hermione able to figure out exactly what had occurred:

Malfoy had straightened up, turned, and somehow there was another wand in his hand. He fired an Impedimentia at Nesbitt at point-blank range, felling the Auror cleanly, then hurled himself toward the curtain of water surrounding the Pillow-wisp. In the pouring rain, he'd be harder to see and hit, helping to make up for his lack of proper mobility. And if he could make it to the Apparition platform, he'd be home free. But the Aurors had been galvanized into action, the more experienced ones shoving the younger aside and plunging into the rain themselves, firing hexes to cut Malfoy off. Nesbitt was up again almost immediately, and chased after them only a few steps behind the others. For a moment she thought he was actually getting away, but then they managed to flush him back into the clear area under the Pillow-wisp where he was forced to turn at bay. A furious firefight ensued.

He was able to match their curses with deflections or countercurses for several fairly impressive seconds, and then one of them connected with a Stupefy. He tipped over and landed with a sodden smack, lying still. His hand opened to release the wand. The fight was over as suddenly as it'd started.

The ickle-Aurors who'd been watching broke into polite applause, drawing in closer to have a look at the fallen wizard. Nesbitt snorted.

"Stand back, you ninnies. One Stupefy hasn't made sure of this fellow in years."

He strode forward himself and aimed a Calming Charm at Malfoy from directly above. Malfoy flinched when it struck him, suggesting that he indeed hadn't been fully unconscious.

Nesbitt's mouth twisted. "You," he said to a Special Ops uniformed Healer standing by. "Give him something to kill that Dark Mark. They've been trying to summon him since at least 2:30 and it's making him crazy. We're never going to get anywhere in the questioning with him fixated on that the whole time."

There was no mention of the cold, the rain, or the curses Nesbitt had connected with. Hermione suspected none of that would make it onto the record either. She didn't recognize the Healer, but evidently the witch was well trained in Nesbitt's ways. Without expression or comment the Healer simply picked up her satchel and moved to kneel beside the patient.

---

Twenty minutes later Malfoy was conscious and once again seated in the wooden chair. He was very subdued, and he seemed bone-weary and none too happy. But his color was much better and there was a warming-charmed blanket wrapped around him. Droplets of water skittered off the blanket courtesy of a water repellant charm as well. He had a self-refilling cup of tea in one hand and an Ever-Smiling Biscuit with yellow frosting in the other.

Apparently Nesbitt had been well satisfied as to Malfoy's inability to Apparate from within the wards, because there was no more effort to prove that. Instead Nesbitt had found another chair somewhere, and he drew it up so he and Malfoy were facing each other knee to knee.

"You think you're so clever," he said quietly. "But everybody knows about that spring-loaded chest holster these days. That trick wouldn't have worked under any other circumstances."

The chest sheath, Hermione thought. That's where Nesbitt thinks that wand came from. She'd noticed before how when Malfoy held his left hand in a protective position it also put that hand in a position to draw. And the quick-release on the holster would have made the wand appear almost magically in his hand. But, Hermione wondered, how could a wand have gotten in there in the first place? Either St. James had lent it to him during one of the times Hermione had gone off for sleep, or... was it possible Malfoy had had it on him the entire time?

"Not that it was any other circumstances, I realize," Nesbitt continued. "That was a clever bit of strategy on your part. I'll admit that. It was my mistake to trust Social Services to have searched you properly."

That would certainly explain why Malfoy had been so cocky in Ernie's Café! There probably hadn't been a single person there with actual combat experience, much less who could best him in a wand duel. Emelda's powerful stave would have been difficult to defend against, but with his Apparition prowess and those Death Eater combat drugs coursing through his veins, Malfoy could have avoided being hit and then struck at her from behind like he'd done with Bangor. It wouldn't hurt that Emelda probably hadn't used the stave in action in fifteen years, if ever. If he'd been armed the whole time, he'd never been in danger at all. But... no. Malfoy was more than capable of acting cocky with absolutely nothing to back it up. And Hermione would bet the Burrow that if he'd been armed when he first saw his son's condition, he'd have used that wand to hurt someone badly. He must have come into possession of it after that.

Malfoy inspected the frosted side of his biscuit, then bit delicately into the edge of it, seemingly attempting to avoid marring the smiling face on it. He gave no sign of having heard Nesbitt's words, but Hermione knew he had to be listening.

"They've all been fooled," Nesbitt continued. "But I know exactly what you are. And I know exactly what you're capable of. You can trick my people, and you can trick other people, but you haven't managed to trick me in years. The only thing I don't know is exactly what you're up to - and that I'm going to find out. And speaking of that sort of thing, what did you miss tonight? Another raid?" Nesbitt's eyes bored intently into Malfoy, studying his every bedraggled line. "Why were you being called?"

Malfoy didn't meet Nesbitt's eyes, studiously examining his biscuit instead. "I don't have to answer questions about anything but Weasley, Nesbitt. That is what your warrant's for, isn't it?

"He has got a point, sir," said Benkmann, standing nearby.

"For the love of… somebody get him out of here," said Nesbitt, jerking his chin toward Benkmann. There was a scuffle of feet as Benkmann retreated, trying to avoid getting grabbed by a couple of the other Aurors.

Malfoy's mouth twitched into the ghost of a smirk. "I do hope your sacking him isn't my fault, Nesbitt," he said. "That would make five in a row, wouldn't it? You simply must learn how to hold onto your partners if you're going to be investigating me further."

"Don't flatter yourself that you had anything to do with that," Nesbitt growled. "I have high standards. He was completely unacceptable in any case."

"Pity Johnson was - what did he call it? Explatterated? - all those years ago. Just think of the trouble you could have saved if he hadn't been," said Malfoy.

Nesbitt's scowl grew blacker. "I'll find another like him someday," he said. "Until then, it's none of your bloody concern, Malfoy. Now let's hear what you have to say about Weasley, before I decide to take Johnson's retirement out on your hide once and for all, and Azkaban bedamned. Don't think I haven't considered it."

The hint of humor vanished from Malfoy's face, to be replaced by wariness. "Fine, then. What about Weasley?"

"Well, what everybody would like to know is, what's your excuse for picking her? She's the daughter-in-law of your enemy. She was your own enemy in school, and her kids are the enemies of your kids. You had to have had some reason. What was it?"

Malfoy took another bite out of his ever-smiling biscuit, again avoiding biting into the face. As the silence lengthened, the biscuit beamed happily at Nesbitt, who glared at it as if he could somehow make it burst into flame.

"I wasn't asked to pick her," Malfoy said at last. His tone was slightly disapproving, even disdainful. "Trelawney said it was her or nothing. She very nearly had to threaten me to accept her. In fact, she did threaten me. It was most unpleasant."

"But you could have chosen to go with a different consultancy," suggested Nesbitt. "To avoid getting Weasley."

"No," said Malfoy. "I already had a contract with Trelawney by the time I found out for certain who the consultant would be, and it wouldn't have been good business practice to back out."

"But you knew she worked for Sibyll & Co. well before that."

"It was in the literature Trelawney provided me. I knew there was some risk Trelawney would attempt to assign Weasley to me, but I had assumed Weasley herself would have the sense to refuse."

"And why did you choose Sibyll & Co. in the first place?"

Malfoy didn't answer right away, instead looking over his biscuit as if attempting to find some other spot to nibble on without ruining its smile. Finding nothing, he settled for having a sip of his tea instead. Hermione rather suspected he'd noticed how much the smile annoyed Nesbitt and was trying to prolong the effect as long as possible.

"I looked into the others," he said at length. "But I decided I couldn't trust any of them with a business as large as Batwing."

"There aren't any other Wizarding companies on that scale," pointed out Nesbitt. "Businesses that large are really more of a Muggle phenomenon, aren't they? I can't imagine that Sibyll & Co. had any more experience than the rest."

"They don't," said Malfoy. "But Trelawney is a friend of the family. The level of trust was the important factor."

Just from what she'd witnessed the other day, Hermione suspected Malfoy's level of inebriation at the time was more of a factor than any trust in Trelawney, but that was neither here nor there.

"Ah yes, a friend of your mother's isn't she?" There was a pause. "Speaking of which," Nesbitt continued, "just where has your mother been lately? All the reports say she's missing."

A strained look flickered across Malfoy's face, and he shrugged slightly, failing to answer otherwise.

"Hmm," said Nesbitt, after a pause. "Well then. Getting back to the subject at hand. Are you going to help Weasley rebuild the wards at the Burrow?"

Malfoy blinked. "Come again?"

"Or at her parents' home, perhaps?"

Malfoy's expression shifted quickly to bewilderment. "Certainly not," he said, sounding more than a little offended.

"Why not? She's on your side, isn't she?"

"Hardly. She's Arthur Weasley's daughter-in-law - an innocent bystander at best, his spy more likely. And a Mudblood besides."

"And yet you've employed her."

Malfoy shrugged, his narrow shoulders shifting under the blanket. "She's not my employee, she's Sibyll Trelawney's. And as I said, I was hardly given a choice. But even if she is a spy, she'll learn nothing by watching me at Batwing. Nothing that'll help you at any rate, unless they've put you on some new investigation having to do with safety regulations and Powdered Pixie Dust production."

"Are you using her to help with Batwing, or are you only using her as a tool for acting out your true plan?" asked Nesbitt slyly.

"My true plan? And what would that be?" Malfoy looked suspicious.

"Well, you obviously had some true purpose in purchasing that company. Something evil… something desperately vile and calculating. You are your father's son, after all."

"You really have been investigating the Pixie Dust, haven't you?" said Malfoy. "Has it never occurred to you that I might just have needed some income-producing investments?"

"Batwing hasn't made money in twenty years," said Nesbitt.

"It will soon. That's what the consultant is for."

Nesbitt's eyes narrowed.

"No… I know you're not that stupid. I know you're not that naïve. You're hiding something behind that supposed determination to run that company and I'm going to find out what it is."

"Please," said Malfoy scornfully. "You'll never find anything. There isn't anything. What on earth would it be?"

"You're lying," said Nesbitt, his expression never wavering. "I can see right through you, even when you have everyone else fooled. You're just like your father - you lie, and you lie again, and you keep on lying, and you get away with murder and you keep on getting away with murder. But one of these days, the wrong person is going to catch you in the wrong lie and that'll be the end of you. I only pray I catch you before You-Know-Who catches you first."

The ever-smiling biscuit smiled wider and wider in response.

Finally, Nesbitt added in exactly the same tone of voice: "And if you don't eat that damned thing immediately, so help me, I'll have a pair of Aurors beat the hell out of you."

Malfoy scowled, then jammed the rest of the biscuit in his mouth and washed it down with a huge draught of tea.

"And just what do you suppose I'm doing?" Malfoy asked, when he was finished. "This desperately evil plan of mine. I confess I've become quite curious as to that." He allowed one of the aides to take the teacup away from him, then leaned back in his chair, the blanket wrapped more firmly around him. He looked wary and uncomfortable.

"It has something to do with Weasley, I think," said Nesbitt. "Something to do with Weasley, and with Auror Affairs. You somehow arranged to get Weasley as your consultant on purpose, and now you're going to use her to get to her father-in-law. With Arthur Weasley under Imperius, you could strike at the Aurors from behind and with perfect impunity - by means of the law."

Somewhere along the line, Malfoy's expression had changed from wary to slightly incredulous. "Good lord," he drawled. "And you said I was grasping at straws? Besides, I'm hardly the only one who'd like to see the last of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement stamped out. Perhaps Arthur Weasley himself saw your obsession with me as an opportunity and sent his daughter to act as Nesbitt-bait, play the victim of Auror harassment, become a sympathetic media figure, and lead an overwhelming public initiative to crush what's left of your war-era power grab."

"Ha," said Nesbitt. "Not likely. She's a washed-up former radical with five bratty kids, a dead-end job and a cheating husband."

"And yet you think she defeated the wards," said Malfoy.

For once, Nesbitt had nothing to say in response. He frowned.

"She did free the House-elves, after all. And she was involved in that whole Order of the Phoenix scandal back in 2007, wasn't she?" said Malfoy. "Come to think of it, wasn't Arthur Weasley supposed to be an actual member of the Order?"

"That was never proven," Nesbitt pointed out. "At any rate, if she has been associating with the Order again, you have more cause for alarm than I do. Unless you're associating with it as well."

"Not likely," sneered Malfoy, his hand straying defensively toward his Memoralias charm under the blanket.

"I thought not," said Nesbitt.

They both seemed to think it was best to leave that subject alone, as there was a longish silence after that.

"You can't keep me here much longer," said Malfoy after a while. "Your office and Auror affairs will be hearing from my lawyers as it is. And I'm to take my daughter to Hogsmeade this afternoon. I'd like to get some sleep first if at all possible."

"You'll get nothing on me for that Apparition business," said Nesbitt. "And you know it. Even Arthur Weasley is scared silly of what you can do already. They'll all be glad it's been proven you can't do that as well. Even if they disapprove of my methods."

Hermione suspected Nesbitt was correct in that. After all, Nesbitt had been playing the system for decades, and most Aurors wouldn't dare speak against him. Benkmann's protests, if any, would be seen merely as the feeble revenge of yet another failed would-be-partner.

"We'll see," said Malfoy grimly. Hermione knew he'd go ahead with sending his lawyers after Nesbitt anyway. He'd been doing things like that for decades too. Hermione shivered at the thought. Nesbitt and Malfoy were evenly matched, having held one another at a standoff for over ten years now. This was all a great dance, formalized feints suggesting the outlines of what might someday be open warfare once again.

"I'll be wanting my wand back, of course," continued Malfoy after a pause. "You can't get away with seizing that one."

Nesbitt looked sour, but he drew the wand in question from a pocket. It was long, slender and black, and bore a shiny new Wanmaker logo painted in near the base of the shaft. "Been shopping, I see. When was this?"

"None of your business, Nesbitt," said Malfoy, putting out one thin hand for the wand. "Give it here, then."

"So you can curse me again? I don't think so," said Nesbitt. "I'll toss it in after you after you floo home."

"You should talk about cursing people. And you'll toss it in before me, so I know you've done it. I don't fancy trying to buy another so soon."

Hermione didn't care what happened to Malfoy's new wand, but she did care where he himself went. No matter what happened in between, he'd be in Hogsmeade by afternoon, and that meant he'd be near Hogwarts and if anything was going to happen to Georgia and Freida because of him, that's when it was most likely to happen.

She did have a good deal to think about as a result of what she'd seen just now, too. On the one hand, it didn't seem she had as much to worry about as she'd thought, regarding her Animagus form being discovered. At least not immediately. There seemed to be no evidence to speak of, and in fact, now that she'd seen how he was handling it, she realized she was lucky Nesbitt had seized charge of the investigation instead of letting it fall into the hands of someone who'd deal with it formally and methodically.

But along with the good news, there was also the bad. She had Covert Operations watching her, and that meant she'd better be damned careful about where and how she transformed. And what she said, and who she said it to. Nesbitt's suspicions about her involvement in Malfoy's supposed plan were hardly reassuring. It didn't matter if she was really involved or not or even if there was really a secret plan or not. Nesbitt appeared, as Malfoy would put it, to have latched onto her like one of those Muggle dogs that never lets go once it has bitten.

For the first time, Hermione wondered if perhaps she'd better go to Arthur, tell him everything she had learned so far, and ask what she could do to help. As Malfoy had also said, sometimes matters reached a point where the only important things were family and survival. Hermione might not know who was on which side or what Malfoy's or Nesbitt's or even Arthur's plans were at this point, but one thing she did know was who her family were.

That is what was on her mind instead of what would happen to Malfoy's wand.

---