Vanilla.
That's what the whorehouse smelled like.
Hermione cringed as she walked through the entrance of Nott Just Dancing. The aforementioned smell mixed with pipes and alcohol, creating an insidious blend of sin and debauchery. Some sort of low bass beat was thumping through the magical speakers, providing rhythm for the various naked women to undulate and grind along the several poles situated throughout the large room.
Small love chairs and larger plush couches were spread haphazardly in the pit area of the room. Men, and surprisingly women, sat in those chairs, feeding Galleons and Sickles to the various strippers. Hermione watched as a woman rubbed her fairly ample bosom into a man's face, trapping his head in her cleavage. Another woman was gripping the pole with her arms and walking along the ceiling, her breasts miraculously held in place by her barely-there lingerie.
Fake.
To be fair, most of the women in the club sported some sort of veiled appearance whether it be their amplified chests or exorbitant make-up. Hermione maneuvered through the chairs to the center stage where a pole was attached to a balcony on the back wall. She kept her wand out, wary of the sort of customers that attended such a place in the middle of the afternoon. Reminding herself that even Ron and Harry had been here after a night of copious drinking, Hermione kept walking, avoiding the lewd gazes of perfidious men.
A hand snaked out to pinch her bum, causing Hermione to turn around and point her wand straight at the man's throat.
"Touch me again and I'll stuff your dick into your mouth."
The man understood the message, holding his hands up in a universal sign of surrender. The few people who were in earshot immediately averted their eyes. If they didn't already know she was one of the Golden Trio, at least they knew she was not to be quarreled with.
"Hey baby, you looking for a gentler touch?"
The stripper was lying on the stage, her back arched in what Hermione surmised to be an erotic manner. Her green eyes twinkled in the dim lighting, holding Hermione's gaze. Hermione just shook her head, quickly regretting her decision to see Theodore Nott. She kept walking, hoping she would reach his office sooner rather than later.
"Oh come on love! Just one dance!" the stripper called out as Hermione strode away.
Passing by a gratuitously large man with two dancers on each of his hammy thighs, Hermione finally reached the stairs where two burly looking men in less drab robes stood guard. One looked at her, unconcerned as to who she might be, and shook his head. Apparently, he didn't recognize her amidst the dim lighting and obscene women.
"Hermione Granger," she stated, "Nott should be expecting me."
One guard looked at the other and nodded his head. Guard number two walked up the stairs, his feet in line with the undistinguishable bass that seemingly played on a loop. Hermione crossed her arms and huffed, indigent that she didn't have immediate access to Nott's attentions. Wishing to stay not a minute longer in the whorehouse, Hermione sighed in relief as she saw an older Theodore Nott descend the stairs with open arms.
He was dressed in a fishnet shirt and tight, leather pants and Hermione had to suppress an eye roll at the stereotype. She knew she was going to see some vile characters when she turned down Knockturn Alley to Diagon Alley's most famous whorehouse, but she expected Nott to be better than that.
"Why if isn't Miss Granger? What brings your pure thighs to my lavish business?" Nott grinned, his teeth flashing against the multi-colored lights that floated around the room.
"It's about Harry Potter," she answered through gritted teeth.
"Ahh, yes! The Boy Who Killed. It seems he's gotten himself into a bit of a kafuffle."
"Seems he has," Hermione reluctantly agreed, "Can we go to your office? I'm not really…comfortable…here."
Nott chortled, taking apparent amusement in her squeamishness, "Of course, your honor."
Hermione placed her foot on the bottom step but Nott impeded her by sticking an open palm in her face.
"No, no, no. Naughty girl," Nott smiled, but a sinister malevolence in his eyes betrayed the genuineness of his grin, "Your wand."
"If you think I'm going anywhere here without my wand, you've sorely forgotten who I am," Hermione replied in a clipped tone.
"If you think I'm going to let you into my office armed, you've sorely forgotten I'm not an idiot," Nott's smile vanished, all pretense and pleasantries set aside for business.
Hermione calculated the decision in her mind, waging her choices. She had very few options and Nott was one of the few leads she was provided. To not investigate what he knew would only undermine Harry's case at this point. Besides, she still had another form of protection that would go undetected.
"Fine," Hermione procured her wand and placed into one of the guard's hands, "You break it, you buy it."
"Does the same go for you?" Nott asked with the same devious twinkle in his eyes.
Hermione glared at him as she stepped back on the stairs, ascending to Nott's office. His office was surprisingly bare of any of the flagitious material downstairs. Opting for a dark mahogany desk with just three chairs and various file cabinets, Nott took a surprisingly pragmatic approach with his office. Nott whistled at his guards and they immediately left. Waving his wand, Nott closed the shades that gave him view of the pit floor.
Hermione suddenly felt enclosed, wondering again if this was worth it. She thought of Harry in his cell and steeled herself for Nott's games. Surely he wouldn't tell her what he was supposed to know without a bit of give and take. It's what Hermione would have to give that worried her.
"So," Nott spoke first, crossing his legs as he leaned back in his chair, "You must be desperate if you're coming to me."
Hermione hesitated, all of her preparation thrown out the window as she felt entirely way too suffocated inside the room, "Draco said you would know something."
"Indeed he did," Nott's Cheshire grinned returned, "And I suppose you want to know what I know?"
"I need to know, Nott. You know Harry is innocent," Hermione implored.
"Are any of us really innocent?" Nott pouted.
Hermione rolled her eyes this time, frustrated at the loops and barriers she had to pass just to gain more information on Harry's apparent set up. Why oh why did all the Slytherins have to know everything about the dark underbelly of the Wizarding world? Couldn't it just be as simple as going to Dumbledore's portrait and asking him what to do?
No.
That would be too easy.
"What do you want, Nott?" Hermione tiredly asked, done playing with his games.
Nott pretend to ponder carefully, dramatically tapping his chin and pointing out his lips like he was in deep thought. Deciding what he wanted to do, he turned to her and squinted his eyes as if he were judging her. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair, suddenly aware that she was in a whorehouse.
"No, no, Granger. I'm gay."
It was Nott's turn to roll his eyes as he read her mind.
"But I do want to tell you a story."
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"Why wasn't Ginny home?"
Hermione asked Harry as she sat down across from his cell, the glass barrier still between them. A notebook was levitating in the air, dictating every word for future reference and Hermione had her own notebook in her lap, jotting specialized notes.
"We had another fight. You know - about the usual," Harry sighed as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.
Hermione grimaced, knowing Harry's difficulties with conceiving a baby. Though they weren't yet married and Ginny was still using the Contraception Charm, Harry had been informed by a doctor at St. Mungo's at a routine check-up that there was a possibility he might not be able to provide a baby. His magical signature had been ravaged by Voldemort and his body had not yet adjusted without it. Ginny was the youngest of seven children and it was well known among her friends for her wish for a large family.
"Do you…do you want to talk about it?" Hermione probed, unsure if this was the right time for that sort of question.
"No," Harry quickly replied, "Ginny said she was going to the Burrow. It was a bigger fight than normal."
Hermione jotted down a note, GW at Burrow.
"So she was at the Burrow all night. When did you have your fight?"
Harry ran a hand through his hair, racking his brain for the exact time.
"It was in the morning before I left for work. I don't know when she left the flat, but she said she was going to the Burrow eventually."
"That explains why she wasn't looking for you," Hermione mused, scribbling more notes. "And what about work yesterday? Was there anything out of line?"
Harry shook his head, throwing his hands in the air in disgust, "No! Ron was working on some St. Mungo's case where someone broke out and Seamus was off until the night shift. Everyone else was where they were supposed to be."
"And do you suspect anyone within your department?"
Harry looked upwards thoughtfully, extending his arms so his palms were flat against the glass barrier. After a moment, he shook his head again, unable to think of any internal suspects. Hermione wrote a question mark besides Aurors and moved onto the next page.
"What about external suspects? There's a whole list of people who would want to take a crack at you, Harry."
"Take your pick," Harry muttered bitterly, "I suppose you should move Malfoy to the top of the list."
"He's actually here now," Hermione commented.
"Malfoy? Here?" Harry stood up a little straighter, "It's reasonable. He has the finances and the motivation. Merlin knows the ass never liked me."
"But has he not liked you enough to frame you for murder?"
Harry nodded, seeing her point, "It's a bit extreme, even for him."
"Still, we can't rule him out," she said as she rubbed her eyes.
Noticing her fatigue, Harry waved for the door, "Hermione, get some rest. You've been at this since the crack of dawn."
"It's only six thirty, Harry," Hermione droned as she kept writing, "I'm probably not going to sleep for the next seventy-two hours."
Harry sighed, knowing it was futile to try to deter Hermione from her course of action. He was grateful she remained with him, a tether to normalcy from the whirlwind of craziness that had enveloped him. As he looked at her, he frowned as he indeed noticed the time.
"Where's Ron? You said he left hours ago for Ginny."
"I don't know," Hermione made a face as she, too, realized Ron had been gone for an excessive amount of time.
The door suddenly whirled open and Seamus stepped in with a wary look on his face.
"What is it now, Seamus?" Hermione asked.
Sparing a sideways glance at Harry, Seamus decided he could speak in front of him, "It's about Ginny."
Harry immediately pressed against the glass, his glasses digging into his skin as he focused all of his attention on the Irishman. Seamus looked at Harry with an expression that said, I know.
"Ron went to find her, but she's missing. She never made it to the Burrow."
Hermione shot up from her chair at the news, concern etched across her face as yet another twist to this case was beset upon them. Harry swore and kicked the glass, the pain in his foot momentarily distracting him from yet another potential catastrophe.
"The clock! The Weasley's clock. What did it say?" Hermione urged an answer from Seamus.
"Ron said her arrow was set to Traveling. That's good, right? At least it wasn't on Mortal Peril," Seamus reasoned.
"Tell Ron to look with her teammates. She sometimes goes there when we've had fights. I don't know where else she would go…" Harry trailed off worriedly.
"Don't worry," Seamus assured him, "Ron's still out and looking for her and I'm sure she'll show up, but there is something else we need to talk about. Since news broke, they're cracking down on me to present your case, Harry. We have to turn something up by this afternoon."
"This afternoon?!" Hermione cried, "That's not procedure at all!"
"Everyone wants a piece of him, Hermione," Seamus talked as if Harry wasn't in the room, "People in the Wizengamot want him just as much as the press. They want to see something done."
"Is there anything you can do to delay them?" Hermione pressed, knowing time was precious.
Seamus shrugged, "I'm pushing it right now letting you in here, but I believe you, Harry." He looked right at his old classmate and nodded at him, "I'll do what I can to hold them off, but Kingsley and I can only keep them on their leashes for so long, the bastards. What are you going to do?"
Hermione and Harry made eye contact and he nodded subtly, giving her permission to carry out her own investigation outside the Auror rules.
Turning to Seamus, Hermione said, "I'm going to have to talk to a couple people and get some answers. Do you think there's anything worth seeing at the hotel where you found Cho and Harry?"
"No murder weapon," Seamus muttered, "We checked Harry's wand and the last spell we found was just a maintenance spell he probably used here. He must've done it with a knife."
"If he did it, Seamus," Hermione immediately corrected him with a strict look.
"Yes, if he did it," Seamus visibly winced.
Harry beamed a bit at Hermione's correction, internally applauding her defense. Right now, there was no one else he would rather have investigating this matter. While he didn't know what happened, he was confident in Hermione's abilities and only wished he could help her instead of rotting uselessly in the cell.
"I'll need to take a look at Cho's body, but right now, I have to talk to someone else," Hermione commented.
"Who?" Seamus asked.
Making a disgusted face, Hermione said, "Malfoy."
------------------
"What story?" Hermione wondered, playing along with Nott's game.
"A love story, Hermione," Nott grinned as he leaned forward with a conspiratorial whisper, "They're always the most interesting stories, aren't they?"
Hermione crossed her arms. "I'm tired of these games, Nott. What do you want to tell me?"
Nott frowned in apparent unhappiness, "I thought you wanted to hear my story, Hermione? Or do you not want to know what I know…"
Knowing she was at an inherent disadvantage without her wand, Hermione quickly assumed that she would have to play or listen to Nott's games. If what Draco told her was true, Nott was the key to proving Harry's innocence or at least pointing a finger to whoever was responsible for setting him up.
"Fine, go on."
The grin crossing Nott's face sent a shiver down Hermione's spine and she had to remind herself that Nott wouldn't hurt her unless he had an endgame and there was no reason for him to be this involved. Though he was always known as a crafty Slytherin, Nott was never known as the type to do the dirty work.
"Let's start at the beginning, shall we? There were two boys and a girl. There always has to be a triangle. It wouldn't be interesting if there were just two people involved," Nott explained.
Hermione rolled her eyes, playing to his charade but not letting herself delve into Nott's storytelling too much.
"Of course, both boys were in love with the girl and it was a question as to who she would pick. Would she pick Lancelot, the brave and noble knight who would do anything for her? Or would she pick Arthur, the king who lorded over all the lands?"
"I already know the story of Guinevere," Hermione tiredly interrupted with a petulant sigh.
"This is not their story, Hermione," Nott gently reprimanded her.
"Anyways, the decision was not easy for her as they both had great merits. Meeting each other as children, they went through tireless trials and tribulations. They fought monsters, overcame heartbreak, vanquished evil. Their popularity was never ending as was the speculation of their love lives. It was generally thought that she would pick Arthur or Lancelot, but everyone had differing opinions on who she should choose."
Hermione shifted in her seat, knowing that this definitely was not the story of Guinevere. But if Nott was trying to relay something, who were Arthur and Lancelot supposed to be?
"Eventually she chose Lancelot, feeling he made her the happiest. Lancelot was pleased as were the rest of the knights and all the land. Even Arthur looked to be happy for them, publicly supporting their relationship and taking a woman for his own."
Was Guinevere supposed to be Ginny? It would make sense since Ginny is sometimes short for Guinevere, but Arthur and Lancelot were both supposed to love her. Ron was her brother.
"You're telling the story backwards. Guinevere married King Arthur, not -"
"This. Is. Not. Their. Story," Nott enunciated each word through clenched teeth, an icy glare dressing Hermione down on the spot, "Do not interrupt me again."
Hermione meekly muttered an okay, shameful that she felt bad for interrupting him.
"The story goes on that she and Lancelot were very happy together and their lives progressed without incident. Yet, Lancelot had a very unique character flaw. He was a very jealous man. He always had been and being with her did not change that about him. It was always his greatest fear that Arthur would swoop in and take her away from him as he was the king and everyone worshipped him. But Arthur and Lancelot were best friends and there is no worse betrayal than laying with what is not yours. Still, she chided him for thinking such things."
"But her caution did not stay his thoughts."
There was a growing dead within Hermione as hints of the story began to seem familiar to her. The identities were already known in the back of her mind, but she was refusing to acknowledge it, hoping Nott's story would veer somewhere else.
"The…trio…were the best of friends and she and Arthur had always been particularly close. Arthur claimed it was just a familial relationship and Lancelot really had nothing to disprove that. Given that Arthur was currently courting Lancelot's sister, Lancelot would be foolish to think anything else."
Now this story definitely seemed too familiar.
The look of realization must have crossed Hermione's face because Nott suddenly grinned as she caught on. He leaned back, reveling in the revelation as he continued to speak words that caused Hermione great uneasiness.
"Yet, he continued to think there was something wrong, suspecting their little communiqué's and lunch dates were more than what they said it was. Of course, this was supposed to be nothing more than friends catching up with each other, but the monster within Lancelot kept growling, begging to be fed. She denied his accusations, reminding him that he was the one that left them in their time of need."
Hermione could barely breathe, her mind zipping along at impossible speeds as she tried to accumulate all the data and process the information to deduce what Nott was trying to tell her. Why was he telling her this story? How did he know so much?
"It started off with small things at first. He would notice their hugs linger for a moment too long. He would notice she spent long nights at work while he was there. By itself, these situations were harmless, but they started to build. That's the problem with an idea. Once it exists, it can't go away. The mountain of what he seemed to think was evidence kept rolling in little by little."
"One day, Lancelot stayed just a bit late after work. Missing her, he strode to her office, hoping to surprise with her a late night visit. No doubt she would also be working the midnight oil, trying to right the world's wrongs. As he approached her door, he noticed a dim light and smiled as he realized she was still in. He lifted his hand to push open the door but heard a strange noise. He thought he heard moaning, but that wasn't right!"
Nott feigned shock, clapping his hands against his cheeks as Hermione gritted her teeth. None of this was true! Nott was making up this part of the story.
"He pushed slightly against the door and his heart broke at the sight. There stood his beloved and Arthur, caught in the throes of passionate love," Nott mocked Hermione with a fake pout, "So enraptured by each other they were, neither of them noticed Lancelot standing in the doorway in shock. To her and Arthur, the world only existed for them and they could care less about Lancelot."
"Stop it," Hermione stood up from her chair, discarding Nott's warning not to interrupt, "This isn't true."
"And so Lancelot turned," Nott continued, unperturbed by her, "He plotted a devious plan to frame Arthur for the murder of another. He would go by undetected, of course. No one would dare suspect Arthur's best friend!"
"I said stop it!" Hermione cried.
"So Lancelot murdered a woman and framed it on Arthur, successfully wiping out Arthur's memory to convince him of his own guilt. Arthur had made many enemies during the creation of his kingdom and all of them wanted to see him fall."
"STOP IT! THIS ISN'T REAL!" Hermione belted at the top of her lungs, thinking of at least twenty-three hexes she could use on Nott if she had her wand.
"What is real?" Nott smugly asked.
------------------------------
Leaving Harry with Seamus and promising the green-eyed man she would be back as soon as she had just a modicum of information, Hermione left the Auror office in search for Malfoy. She knew he worked within the Wizengamot and while he wasn't part of the governing body, he definitely held some sway. Stopping by the room where they held Cho's body, Hermione could find no other magical signatures. It look like Cho had been killed without magic. Stumped, she continued her journey to Malfoy.
Before she could travel to his office, she was stopped by two masses of fiery, red hair.
"Hermione!" Ginny's eyes were red as she flew into Hermione's arms for a comforting embrace. Hermione caught the younger girl in her arms, shushing her and stroking her back. Looking over the youngest Weasley's shoulder, Hermione spotted a haggard looking Ron.
"Where is he? Have you seen him yet?" Ginny asked as soon as she pulled away.
"I don't think so. It's not proce -" Ron started.
"No," Hermione interrupted, "Seamus let me see him. He's holding off the rest of the Grims for now, but we don't have long until they try to bury Harry for this crime. Go to the Auror office now, Ginny."
Ginny nodded and thanked Hermione for her help. The brunette indicated she wanted to speak to Ron for a moment and that she would join them later. As soon as the young redhead was out of earshot, Hermione started speaking.
"Not a lot of leads so far. I scanned the letter and Cho's body. Found nothing conspicuous on either of them. Didn't think I'd find anything so far."
"You saw Harry already?" Ron asked again, an indiscernible look in his eyes.
"Yes," Hermione snapped impatiently, wishing he would pay attention, "Did you hear anything I just said?"
"Yes, I heard it," Ron said in a distracted voice.
Shaking her head and blaming his inattentiveness on fatigue, Hermione said, "I'm going to find Malfoy."
"Malfoy?" Ron perked up, "Do you think he has something to do with this?"
"I don't know," Hermione admitted, "But Cho did work with him in the Wizengamot pit. Seeing as how he's one of the few people that's here right now and considering he might be a suspect, I figured I should talk to him."
Ron nodded, agreeing with her, "I'll go with you."
"Don't," Hermione sighed and placed a hand on his chest, "You two still don't like each other and I'll get more information if you two aren't there trying to glare each other to death."
"I would win that."
Hermione cracked a rare smile and looked up at Ron's face. There were bags under his eyes and the crease between his brows was held in place from concern, but he still had a sly smile that lifted her spirits by just a fraction.
"Go to Harry," Hermione ordered, "I'll be back soon."
"Got it."
Hermione found Malfoy's office after questioning the Wizengamot pit secretary. Knowing there was a good chance he was in there, she opened the door without knocking, hoping to catch him off-guard. Malfoy was sitting behind his desk, looking over some papers and looked up in alarm when she entered the room. As he noticed her, however, he relaxed.
"Figured you'd come calling soon enough, Granger," Malfoy predictably drawled.
Willing herself to stay patient, Hermione decided to skip pleasantries and ask him directly, "Why is Cho dead?"
Leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms over his head, he answered, "Why don't you ask Potter? Saw in the Prophet he was the one that killed her."
"You know he wouldn't do that."
"Wouldn't he? Maybe Scarhead finally lost it. Voldemort had a way of doing that to people," Malfoy idly remarked.
Hermione dismissed the idea completely. Voldemort was long gone out of Harry's mind and while there were some lasting effects, Harry's impotency for one, Hermione was convinced that Harry wasn't deranged enough to kill someone so violently.
"You worked with Cho. You must have some idea of her schedule and what she was working on."
"Why would I want to help Potter?"
"He saved your ass if you remember," Hermione forcefully reminded him.
"That was a long time ago."
"Debt's a debt, Malfoy."
Malfoy paused, considering his options. He still looked similar to the bully at Hogwarts but age and a little bit of wisdom matured him. His hair was cropped shorter but still a white-blonde. He worked hard in the Wizengamot, often running around errands that he would have previously deemed below him. It was tough when he found out his family was not as respected and his money couldn't easily buy everyone.
But some wounds were still slow to heal.
"What do you want to know about Chang?" Malfoy finally asked.
"Enemies. Who would want to do this to her?"
"For such a smart girl, you're overlooking the obvious thing," Malfoy said with a raised eyebrow, "Chang's obviously just a fall girl. They're targeting Potter."
"I know that," Hermione snapped, "There's still a reason they picked Cho. Her history with Harry. Her connections. Her availability. Can you help me out with that?"
Malfoy looked at the single item in the room that distinguished it from all the other offices in the Ministry. It was a lone silver picture frame of his parents. Heaving his chest as if he had a weight on his shoulders, Malfoy continued to provide information.
"Chang mostly kept to herself. She was our liaison to the Magical Games and Sports department given her specializations in Hogwarts. She worked a regular schedule and I only bumped into her when I needed to get some paperwork. Word around the pit is that she got involved with one of the older members of the Wizengamot."
"Involved?" Hermione hoped Malfoy wasn't implying what she thought he was.
"Don't be naïve, Granger. You know what I'm talking about. Rumor is that she was seeing Roger MacFarlan."
"MacFarlan?" Hermione searched her brain, recalling the well-built, former Quidditch player representing Games and Sports in the Wizengamot, "But he's not known as a Dark Wizard."
"No, he's not technically known, but if you're in the pit long enough, you know he frequents Nott Just Dancing. People say he's brought Cho there a couple of times. If you want to find some Dark Wizards, they're still out there."
"Nott?" Hermione wrinkled her nose. He owned a sleazy establishment in Knockturn Alle, "How many times did she go there with Macfarlan?"
"A lot," Malfoy finished as he brought out a quill to write on the first of several parchments on his desk, "Now if you don't mind, Granger. That's all I know. I'm not getting dragged into this nonsense again."
Hermione nodded, knowing he didn't have to tell her where Cho frequented. She supposed it was his way of repaying the debt he still owed to Harry, but to Hermione, that wasn't nearly enough. As she turned to leave his office, Malfoy called out for her one more time. Turning around, she looked into his steely eyes and saw a strange emotion for Malfoy.
Apprehension.
"Nott's a lot different than he was at Hogwarts. You might want to bring someone."
Was that…concern in Malfoy's voice? Hermione blinked, but the blonde had already burrowed his head into his paperwork, ignoring her presence. Shutting the door behind her, Hermione was confused with a rare piece of charity from Malfoy. If Cho frequented Nott's whorehouse, then Hermione would have to follow the trail.
-----------------------------
"Why are you telling me all of this?! Why are you lying?!" Hermione barked her questions, trying in vain not to lose her temper.
"One would think it means something to you with the way you're reacting," Nott toyed with her, still seated and leaning back comfortably in his chair.
"It doesn't mean anything because you made that last part up. I know what you're trying to do and I hope to Merlin you don't have anything to do with what happened to Harry."
"Me?" Nott's voice raised an octave as he coquettishly pointed at himself, "I wouldn't do anything so magical and suicidal. Not my style. Too dirty," Nott pretend to wash his hands of filth.
"Then what? What's the point of this?"
"The point is," Nott sighed as if he were talking to a toddler, "that if you can wipe someone's memory clean, isn't it conceivable you can plant a memory as well?"
Hermione froze, realizing what Nott was trying to imply. Nott nodded, for once soberly serious as her brain finally figured it out.
"It's so brilliant. They should make one of those Muggle movies about the idea! What you think didn't ever happen might be someone else's reality. In this case, Lancelot's reality."
"But Ron wouldn't…" Hermione trailed off.
"Are you sure about that?" Nott said more gently, "People are pushed to great lengths when their greatest fears are confirmed."
The room was spinning around her and she was finding it difficult to breathe. Even her adept brainpower couldn't handle the swarm of emotional and factual overload. Would Ron do something so sinister as set Harry up? Her heart screamed, No! Never! Yet, the rational part of her brain told her that if Ron believed she was cheating on him with Harry, his temper had a way of clouding his judgment.
But killing Cho and framing Harry was something so pre-meditated that he would have to truly believe she had forsaken him for Harry. It just wasn't like Ron to pull off something so incredibly malicious no matter how angry he was.
"In order to make something clear, I don't actually know who is framing Potter," Nott pointed out, "I was just given orders."
"Orders?" Hermione snapped to attention, "Who? Who gave you orders?"
Nott shrugged indifferently, "I don't know. We all get orders and this one paid handsomely. I was just meant to keep you distracted with this little story."
"Distracted? Why would you need to distract me?" Hermione frowned, her feet suddenly turning towards the door.
"It's a game, Granger," the same playful but sinister glint was back in Nott's eyes, "Which one set up Potter? Was it Weasley? Was it Weaslette? Was it someone else that stands to gain from Potter's fall? That's the game."
"But who…" Hermione said to herself, now pacing in front of Nott.
"Well you need to find out soon."
"Why?" Hermione questioned for the umpteenth time, tired of asking questions and receiving only riddles for answers.
"The hounds are thirsty, Granger. Once Potter's case hits the Wizengamot floor, no one will be able to stop the swift turn of events. People like a hero, but what people like even more is a villain. And here you have your first villain since the Dark Lord. They will not be kind to the Boy Who Killed."
Hermione stopped and in her mind, it was as if a movie she had never seen before played it out in her head. Once they brought Harry's case to the Wizengamot, he would be tried and the decision would be handed out by the governing body. He had many enemies who would vote for his incarceration even if he was the savior of the Wizarding world.
People only cared about what you were doing for them now.
He would be sent to Azkaban and Kingsley would immediately be supplanted since he was a close friend of Harry's. Whoever replaced him would probably be propped up by the same person that planted a memory in Ron's mind that made him believe she cheated on him with Harry.
But who? Who would do this?
Hermione couldn't wait another minute, bursting out of Nott's office and grabbing her wand from one of his guards. As she raced out of the building in order to Apparate to the Ministry, she heard Nott mocking her one last time.
"Choose wisely, Granger!"
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A/N: Thoughts? Concerns? Guesses? Reviews…