What you don't know doesn't hurt you; it's what you suspect that causes all the trouble.

Evan Esar

Chapter 1: Fish Climbing

It'd been sometime since she'd seen the man that used to inspire fear in her. He was the first representation on what she needed to stand against in the wizarding world. A paragon of wealth, respect, and bigotry that she had been determined to beat. Her feelings of anger and malice she once had were replaced with feelings of pity and sympathy. She was not cold hearted or malicious about the man. In the end, he had chosen the love of his family as the most important thing. He had chosen love and she could respect that. Though, these days he had lost much since the war ended, just as she had.

That's the thing about war. Both sides believe it's worth fighting for.

So, that when she saw Lucius Malfoy walking down the road in the middle of muggle London, her breath caught from disbelief. He was dressed as a muggle businessman, but muggle clothing with no robes or wizarding finery. He sported an evergreen and charcoal scarf as he picked up a newspaper and paid for it with actual euros. His hair was swept back from his crown in a low ponytail and he even cracked a smile to the man dealing the papers that displayed motionless pictures.

He didn't notice her as he took off across the street, waving to a motorist who waved back. It was like watching a fish climb a tree effortlessly. The most peculiar thing she'd ever seen, and she'd seen plenty of peculiar things. She just sat there with her tea clasped between her hands on the bitter Tuesday morning wrapped in a thick red scarf and knitted cap. She'd seen him on a Tuesday morning in the middle of muggle London buying a newspaper.

Hermione was in muggle London for her own reasons but seeing Lucius Malfoy in London had piqued her interest and her suspicion. She continued to frequent the tea establishment, but she failed to see him again for another week.

"Are you sure, Hermione?" Harry asked over her cell. "You sure it wasn't just someone who looked like him?" Harry had been completely willing to buy a mobile phone as a means of instant contact with Hermione because owls took forever, and repeated castings of the Patronus Charm ended up being an exhaustive way to keep up a conversation.

She slammed her reusable mug on her small kitchen table. "Yes, Harry. It was him. What information does the Ministry have on him? Why would he be in London?" She stacked her most recent case files on the edge of her desk to be gone through, "Do you have any information that could help me?"

"No, I absolutely have nothing to tell you. And, even if I did, I wouldn't be permitted to share that information with you anyway. I have a duty to the oath I took." He said louder than normal, so that the people within his vicinity could hear him.

"Oh, yes. Terribly sorry, good sir" She smiled, glancing over at the books of information that Harry had floated to her over the years. She had requested a Seeker position in London about six months ago and had taken up residence in a little studio flat in North London. She liked it, but it made getting interesting cases rare. As a Seeker, she was to keep tabs on Muggle and Magical London and make sure the Statute of Secrecy was respected. And being alone in London made your information flow kind of slow. "I should never put you in such a situation." She paused, "How are Ginny and the kids? Maybe I could come over for dinner one weekend? I miss you guys."

He paused, and she heard the clink of glass, "They're all great. Miss you like crazy, too. But, how could they not?" he chuckled, "Albus got the book on transfiguration that you modified for him and he got in trouble for transfiguring the goblets in the Great Hall into miniature ostriches. Mean, tiny ostriches running around pecking everyone. Thank you for that one. McGonagall was not happy."

Hermione smiled broadly into the phone as she listened to Harry tell her stories of all her nieces and nephews. Once she had married Ron, she had gotten the entirety of the Weasley family with a bonus of Harry as a brother-in-law. The holidays were full and fun and warm, her children were excelling in school and she had a job she loved for the most part.

Hermione smiled sadly and tucked an arm under her elbow. She bit her lip and said quietly, "And how's Ron? Is he doing okay?"

"Hermione…" Harry started; his voice strained. She could see in her mind how he would rub his forehead, trying to play negotiator between two of the most important people in his life. She knew she was the bad guy and that whatever he told her was precious as he had to carefully think about every word. He groaned loudly on the other side of the phone and she heard a chair creak loudly and a door rattle shut.

"I know, Harry. Just tell me he's okay." She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose as a weight pressed down on her chest. The feeling of not knowing something had never sat well with Hermione Granger. And that feeling, that could once be filled by checked out books and copious inquiries, only lingered on the edge of her mind, unquenchable.

"He's not okay, Hermione. He's getting better, but he's still a blubbering mess." Harry let out a frustrated growl that sounded like a cornered animal. "Ginny still won't talk about you. I'd be bludgered just for talking to you now." She heard his chair creak loudly again. "I don't think dinner is a good idea."

"I know." She sucked in her breath as if he'd pinched her. "I'm sorry, Harry. For all of this." She pulled on the edge of her red sweater, pulling on a thread until all that was left was a frazzled edge. She glanced out of the grey and misty London night and sighed. "It's just really hard."

He set down something heavy before continuing, "Hermione, you could just come home. Did you really have to disappear? Just serving him with divorce papers was kind of wrong." His tone had switched a bit, but she could tell he was just trying to understand. "I think it's hard for both of you. You still love him, don't you? What is going on?"

"Yes, Harry…" her voice rasped involuntarily, and she felt the threat stinging her behind her eyes, "I was drowning, Harry. I know you can't understand. But, with Ron, I was just drowning, and I couldn't breathe. I was being absorbed into his idea of me and I wasn't myself anymore." She took a deep breath and looked up at the white ceiling above her, "If I came back, he'd just pull me back to him. I can't say no to him if he asks me, so I just had to leave." She felt her tears welling back up and she plastered a fake smile on her face and knocked loudly on the wall next to her, "I'm sorry, Harry. I must go! Give my love to everyone. Bye." Her thumb trembled as she hit the end button to his voice trying to stop her.

She curled up into her small yellow wingback chair and gazed out the rain splattered window, visions of laughing and family trailing through her mind. She'd left for the right reasons, even if no one else could see them. She wanted to do more with her life. She had to.

Hermione sat anxiously outside her handler's office, waiting to give him an update on the goings on in London. She hated coming to the Ministry because there were so many red heads and with her putting distance between her and Ron, the entire Weasley clan took it upon them to help the two sort out their issues. Which meant if any Weasley saw Hermione, they would alert Ron to her whereabouts immediately. She knew Ron was somewhere in the Ministry, she just hoped she'd be able to come and go without a scene.

Finally, the big door opened and a huge man by the name of Victor Freiter waved her inside. The man had no neck and his warm brown eyes were hidden under bushy grey eyebrows. She quickly walked past him and sat in the chair across from his desk. The huge man waddled around the desk in the small space and sat heavily on a chair that seemed to scream for help.

"Granger." He started, pulling out a thick folder from his desk drawer. It fell with a thud on the desk and he opened it up. "I have to say that this is the most organized, well thought out, eloquent, detailed, and wonderful piece of crap I've ever read."

Her beaming face slowly fell at his last few words. "Ex-excuse me sir?" She stuttered and shook her head a little at disbelief.

"You've given me misdemeanors with more details than some felony case files I have on record. Mrs. Granger, what exactly are you looking for in London?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I just wanted to be thorough in my descriptions."

"You didn't answer me, Granger. What are you looking for in London?" The man asked again, leaning somewhat back in his pleading chair.

Hermione had to bite her lip to not blurt out Lucius Malfoy, who had become her most recent quest to find in London. "Sir, I'm just wanting a place that I can work quietly for a while as everything blows over."

The man grunted in understanding, "Your thing with your husband?" Hermione looked down in her lap and nodded. "Mrs. Granger, you know that any evidence of domestic violence will fast track your divorce, right?"

"Yes, I know that." She said quietly. "There was never any abuse, Freiter. Don't worry about that. Just other things."

He shifted in his splintering chair and nodded, pulling out a red folder. "Since I have one of the best detectives under my belt right now, I'd like you to go check out this scene. All signs point to suicide, but I'd love it if you'd look it all over."

Hermione took the red folder in her hands and flipped it open. Flora Carrow had been found in her home dead after ingesting belladonna berries from her own garden. Hermione screwed her face up in thought as the thought of a similar case; the one of Narcissa Malfoy five years prior. She nodded and slid the folder into her satchel before standing up.

The man also stood and held out a huge meaty paw which she shook. "Keep doing the good work, figure out whatever is going on, and yadda yadda." He mumbled, shooing her from his office.

Hermione hefted the bag onto her shoulder and made her way quickly to the floo fireplaces located in the atrium of the Ministry. She pushed her way through the mass of bodies to wait in line. It was a long line and only two fires were lit at this time, a precaution the Ministry had taken very seriously. There were several entrances, but only so many exits.

She pulled the file from her bag and popped it open, reading it while the line ebbed slowly forward.

Case Number: HB00153467ZM

Date: 18 September 2019

Reporting Officer: Deputy R. Patil
Prepared By: CPL Walker

Incident Type: Suspected Homicide 9/18/2019

Address of Occurrence: The Carrow Estate in Brighton, England

Witnesses:

Magpie: House Elf Employed by the Carrows. Female, 28

Hestia Carrow: Sister of deceased. Female, 30, Caucasian

Evidence:

Poisonous Belladonna plant

No sign of forced entry

Suicide Note

Weapon/Objects Used:

Belladonna Berries

Magpie the House elf arrived at the Ministry to request aid for the Carrows at 21:15 and I arrived on the scene at 21:34 on September 18th to find Hestia Carrow sitting beside the body of the deceased, Flora Carrow, 30, on the floor of the kitchen. A prognosis charm revealed a lethal ingestion of belladonna berries, remnants of which were found on her lips, fingers, and stained on her blouse. No forced entry into the estate was perceived and the wards on the estate had not been activated.

A suicide note was found beside the deceased. Item # 2 in Evidence lock up.

Hestia claimed to have just arrived home from a vacation in Greece, a story corroborated by the Portkey Department on her arrival and departure.

"A bit of light reading?" asked an incredibly familiar voice from behind her. She closed her eyes for a moment before slowly turning her head to see the tall and solid figure of Arthur Weasley, the man who had took her into his home since she was a young girl, the best grandfather to her children and the father of the man she was ardently hiding from. The man had aged gracefully, the only difference between now and when she'd met him being about twenty pounds around the middle and wisps of grey threading through his still fire colored hair. He'd maintained his position as Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office and was happy as could be.

"Hello, Arthur." Hermione involuntarily winced and he reached up and patted her shoulder.

"I didn't tell him you were here. You can relax." Hermione let go of a breath she'd trapped in her chest and nodded. She slipped her red folder back into her bag. "Did you know that Molly and I separated once? Back when Ron was a baby, before Ginny was even thought about?"

Hermione had to stop from snapping her neck around and looked at him confused. Molly and Arthur Weasley, the poster couple of a loving and wonderful family had separated? And while they had several children? "No, I didn't know that. What happened?"

Arthur smiled and pushed his hands in his pockets. "Well, I think what it boils down to be that Molly and I had grown into different people without worrying about getting to know each other along the way. She wasn't Molly Prewett anymore, I had no idea who she was." He stepped forward with the line along with Hermione. "And that was my fault. I put expectations on her that a mother of six kids couldn't complete. I didn't respect what she needed, and she told me she'd had enough and kicked me out."

Hermione was dumbfounded but continued to listen. "What happened?"

"I stopped expecting to see Molly Prewett when I saw her. It was the worst month of my life, trying to convince that I would change, could change. She finally took me back and I took a less important job at the Ministry so that I could help her more at home." He laughed and glanced up, "I love my job, but I used to be much more important. I didn't excel at job climbing because I decided spending time with my family was more important."

Hermione nodded. "I appreciate you confiding this in me. But, I'm not Molly."

Arthur nodded and pulled her around the shoulders to him in a hug. "No, you aren't Molly." He smiled at her, "But, you are my daughter. And that is never going to change, no matter what happens. Do you understand me?" His bright blue eyes shined with emotion as he looked at her and she nodded. "I don't know what you or Ron did to cause this divide, but I'm sure there's a way to fix it."

Hermione smiled at him and nodded. "Maybe." Her own eyes stung with emotion as she leaped up to hug him around the neck before flooing to the Carrow Estate.

The Carrow Estate was broad and large dark wood and bright white quartz floors with suspicious stains all over them. Hermione remembered that the elder Carrows, Alecto and Amycus, had been Death Eaters and had terrorized the school right before the end of Voldemort's reign. She found the kitchen easily enough and started inspecting the kitchen when a small pop announced the arrival of a tiny house elf wearing a purple checkered dish towel as a dress.

"You must leave, muggle filth. You is not welcome here." The elf attempted to shoo her away, but Hermione just smiled at her.

"I'm with the Ministry of Magic and I want to make sure what happened to Flora is what really happened to her. Was she a good mistress?" Hermione had dealt with dozens of house elves who held their pureblood supremacist family's ideologies either out of self-preservation or brain washing. But she found that kindness was the most often thing that worked on the loyal creatures.

The tiny house elf twisted the towel in her hands before she responded quietly, "Mistress was the best mistress. Magpie knew she threw out new towels just for Magpie, but she wouldn't admit it." Magpie twisted her towel-dress in her hands before saying, "You should really go though." And she snapped her fingers and disappeared, leaving Hermione alone in the kitchen.

Hermione tapped her thighs as she stood and continued walking around. There wasn't much to see as the suicide had happened several days before and most everything had been cleaned up. She decided to walk into the back garden to see where the plant had been located.

All she found was an empty hole in the ground and she assumed it was either taken as evidence or Hestia had thrown it out. She turned to leave and saw Magpie standing a few yards behind her. Magpie took a second before she said anything, twisting that dish rag harshly between her hands.

"You must find out who hurt Flora. She was planning a big Samhain party, she was happy. She would not kill herself. She sent me to market for two hours on that day and I came back and she was dead. No one listens to house elves. I told them she wouldn't."

Hermione nodded and knelt in front of her, "I promise I'll do whatever I can to find out what happened, Magpie."

"There was a man, tall man, who was coming to see Mistress Flora at nighttime. They would cover up their talking so Magpie couldn't hear."

"Magpie, did you tell this to the other Aurors? This is important."

"No, I couldn't." The house elf looked horrified. "It would tarnish Mistress Flora's reputation. But you is a filthy muggleborn slime, no one would believe you."

"Magpie, was this a lover? A romantic man she was seeing?"

Magpie shook her head, "I never seen him without his cloak on, but I knews that Flora was scared of him. I tried to tell her to not bring him around no more, but she wouldn't listen." Magpie shifted her weight on each foot, before looking up at Hermione. "And I heard him say one thing. He said 'a bee and toe'. I don't know if they was potion ingredients or what, but Mistress Flora just nodded and smiled."

Hermione nodded and wrote all of this down in her notebook she fished out of her bag with a muggle pen. Magpie scoffed at the pen as if offended and snapped her fingers once more, disappearing from view. Hermione tapped her pen on the notebook as she wrote down everything the house elf had said.

She then walked inside and flooed home to her tiny flat.