The Greengrass home stretched large and elegant. If not so large or elegant as the Malfoys', it still impressed. Dark woods paneled the hallways, and when Daphne directed Ginny to a guest bedroom, the canopied four poster bed made her fall in love. Thanking the Slytherin girl profusely, she crashed happily on top of it. Auror robes still on, she didn’t even bother getting under the covers.

A knock sounded at her open door. Unwillingly, Ginny opened her eyes a crack, not bothering to roll off her face. "Whaddya wan?" she muttered into her pillow.

Draco chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. "Just letting you know I'm next door, if you need anything."

She nodded wearily and dropped off to sleep.

Silver light shone brightly in Ginny's eyes the next morning. She cracked an eye groggily. A bit of sunlight streamed through the not-quite-closed curtains, lighting the neat, precise, elegance of Ginny's bedroom. But that wasn't silver, so what was--

A silver sparrow, no bigger than Ginny's palm fluttered around her head, its glow cast across the room.

"A Patronus?" Ginny gasped.

Daphne's voice issued forth smugly from the sparrow Patronus. "Is this small enough for you, oh Lieutenant? Also, breakfast's ready."

Awed, Ginny followed the Patronus down the stairs. Belatedly, she realized she looked a wreck, still in the clothes she'd slept in. Casting freshening and cleaning charms was the best she could do at this point, and she entered the dining room behind the sparrow.

"A show off, isn't she?" Draco scowled over his eggs. A repressed smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I doubt she'll ever bother with owls again."

A great window stretched behind the table, framing a perfect view of wildflower-dusted hills. Ginny hadn't the faintest idea if it was enchanted, or actually where the gorgeous home resided. Knowing Slytherins, she'd guess the latter.

The silver sparrow fluttered over to Daphne, who cooed happily at it. "Who's the good Patronus that's going to rescue Blaise? That's right, you are!"

Ginny slid into the seat next to Draco, food appearing the moment she sat. Eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuits, toast, a steaming cup of tea, jams and jellies of every kind... She dug in happily.

"So you can too?" Warrington gestured at Draco around a mouthful of biscuit. "A Patronus, I mean."

Draco nodded.

"Great, now I'm the only one who can't," Warrington glowered at his plate. Remembering, he handed Ginny the daily paper. "Draco was right."

"What?" she took it in confusion.

"You shouldn't have tempted Fate," Draco said sagely.

The bold headline across the top declared: "Hermione Weasley, Head of the DMLE, Escorts HERMIONE to St Mungo's: BOTH Under Arrest"

"What?" she whispered with deadly calm.

"Turns out they just sensationalized it," Draco added, casually stabbing a sausage. "Hermione holed up in a debriefing room with Shacklebolt and Potter for hours. No one was actually arrested."

“Good.” If anyone dared arrest Hermione, Ginny would tear them apart with her bare hands.

Draco noticed her fervent devotion to pouring through the article. “The article’s mostly guesswork. At one point, the reporter even admits to being locked out and peering in through a window.”

“Well, it’s all I’ve got right now, isn’t it?” Ginny didn’t bother to lift her eyes from the page.

Daphne chuckled. “Right, because Hermione’s definitely not meeting with us the moment we walk through the door. She’d never do something as clever as that.”

Ginny lowered the paper, peering over the top. “She’s what?”

Draco shrugged, a smirk twitching at his lips. “Soon as we’re done with breakfast.”

Ginny tossed the paper aside, shoveling food in her face as quickly as she dared in public.

Daphne and Warrington peered wonderingly at the War Room. Even though it was large enough to easily hold five squads around the edges, it was the table in the middle that was the important piece. Wars had been planned and launched here, history made, and lives sacrificed.

Daphne wrinkled her nose at it. “After all the stories, I thought it would look more impressive.”

Hermione frowned from her seat across the table, Ron and Harry flanking her.

Warrington dropped easily into a seat, already slouching. “I feel like a proper Auror.”

Shrugging, Harry replied, “Technically, you are now. Only senior squads get to come in here.”

A bomb could have dropped in the silence, and none of the Slytherins would have noticed. Warrington whistled appreciatively.

“Consider it a battlefield promotion,” Ron growled.

But Hermione shook her head. “No, Ron, they’ve earned it. Harry and I both agreed. Junior squads don’t ever see real action, and Slytherin Squad has performed well under fire every time. Well, since the traitors, that is.”

Ginny and Draco took seats across from Hermione and Harry. Ginny couldn’t help adding, “But even against the traitors, the ones that fought did well.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Draco, of all people, cut him off. “Don’t push it, Ginny,” he drawled. “Astoria deserted, remember? And I’ll bet their allotted stock of Slytherin Compliments is running low about now.”

Both sides of the table chuckled.

Reluctantly, Ginny nodded. “But we’ve been skirting the line between a senior and a junior squad for a while now. You and Blaise have the record for a senior squad, and Ron and I were on senior squads nearly straight out of Training.” At Draco’s confused frown, she blushed. “Yes, I read your files from before Slytherin Squad. Quite complimentary, by the end.”

Ron snorted. “Polite way of saying they hated your guts originally.”

“Yes, Ron,” Harry chuckled. “No one expected anything else, or I wouldn’t have let him in.”

Daphne looked like a little bug that had been casually squished. “So Warrington and I’ve been the ones holding the squad back?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, not at all. It was Malfoy, actually.” At his murderous look, she laughed. “Not like that! He might have the record to be on a senior squad, but not to lead one!”

“Ginny does,” Harry pointed out with a smirk. “So watch your step, Malfoy, or we’ll flip those ranks in a heartbeat.”

Draco’s face twitched between murderous and vaguely amused, not sure which to settle on.

Ginny laughed, elbowing him. “Don’t worry, being second-in-command suits me just fine. Leadership makes me break out in hives.”

“Break out in Slytherins, more like,” Harry corrected.

Ron shuddered. “Ugh, we don’t need more of those.”

Even the Slytherins laughed, assuming Ron was joking. Draco knew he wasn’t, but grinned anyway.

“Alright, down to business now,” Hermione said. Around the table, faces sobered. Even Warrington tried. “The poison the imposter took wasn’t for suicide.”

Ginny’s eyes went wide. “What then?”

Hermione’s face twisted in a scowl. “Disfiguring. She's covered head to toe in boils now, so we haven’t the faintest idea who she was before. And to top it all off, she's in a coma.”

“Healers couldn’t stop it in time?” Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head. “Fast-acting. The whole thing was ridiculously well-planned. Healers are working on a cure as we speak, but it was a whole cocktail of different poisons, so it could be a while.”

Casually, Daphne asked, "Do you think she could have been the mole?"

Silence dropped like a bomb around the table.

Frantically, Hermione started flipping through papers, comparing notes on the different information leaks. Soon, her whole neat stack was spread across the table in front of her as she referenced and cross-referenced events.

Harry snorted. “You know what, Daphne? I think she just might have been the mole.”

“So if the mole isn’t on your senior squads, does this mean we’re out of a job?” Warrington asked.

“Might,” Hermione replied, barely looking up. “I’m not about to risk everything on the chance that the imposter wasn’t the mole. I’m still looking into her motivations, but I’ll keep that in mind.” With an obvious force of will, she folded her hands atop the papers, putting them aside for later. The action seemed to cause her pain.

“Ron and I were able to fight off the Death Eater ambush on Tonks’s squad,” Harry said. “They took injuries, but nothing serious. The moment the Aurors started winning though, the Death Eaters Disapparated. So we’re no worse off for it, but no better either.”

“So when do I get to send my Patronus to Blaise?” Daphne cut in eagerly.

“Not yet,” Hermione held a finger up to the girl. “Three of Williamson’s squad are still missing. We have all the other squads out searching, but nothing so far.”

“If Patronuses can’t find them…” Ginny trailed off, suspecting the worst.

Harry grimaced in Hermione’s direction. “She’s still holding out hope.”

“The imposter phrased it oddly!” Hermione insisted. “She didn’t say she dropped them into a volcano, she said ‘You’ll see’! I can’t be the only one to find that suspicious!”

“You’ve done corpse detection charms?” Draco asked.

Harry sighed. “We’ve done everything we can think of. Those have a short range, though, so just because everywhere we’ve tried came up false doesn’t mean much.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stick up at all angles. “The real worry are the Patronuses. They’ve always been a failsafe method of finding anyone, but…”

“I’ll show you,” Ron volunteered, whipping out his wand. He summoned his Patronus, who patiently wagged his silvery tail. “Go find Albus Dumbledore and tell him--” He stopped as the Patronus sadly shook his doggy head. “Exactly like it always does when someone's dead,” Ron commented to the group. “Now, go find Auror Knoppish, and tell him to report in.” The dog trotted off happily through the walls.

“It takes a while to come back,” Hermione informed Slytherin Squad, “so we’re assuming they’re still far away. But more than that we don’t know, because when it does come back, it’s unhelpful.”

Daphne crinkled her forehead. “What do you mean?”

Hermione sighed. “Give it a minute, you’ll see.”

They sat in silence until the dog came trotting back through the walls. It simply walked up to Ron and shook its head.

“We’ve questioned it till we’re blue in the face,” Hermione continued. “But it’s the same every time. It won’t answer a single question when it gets back, but it clearly goes somewhere before coming back.”

“Which Hermione takes to mean they’re still alive,” Harry clarified.

Hermione steamed, clearly a sore subject. “Yes, Harry, if they’re answering differently than they do when someone’s dead, then I’m only logical for assuming they’re still alive!”

Harry turned to Daphne, tight smile in place as he ignored Hermione. “Whenever you’re ready, Greengrass.”

Daphne stood, her wand shaking as she drew it. “Expecto Patronum!” The silver sparrow burst forth, fluttering around the room.

Harry whistled appreciatively. “That is smaller than small. I might put you in charge of all hostages.”

Daphne didn’t even hear his offer. “Is there anything specific I need to say?” Her voice wavered, much as she tried to hide it.

Hermione shook her head. “You know him best. You have clearance to do whatever you think will work. His reply might be forced, it’s the only way to get around the Patronus. So watch for that, when--”

“Or if,” Harry added softly.

“--it comes.” Hermione shot him a dirty look. “It’s up to you, Auror Greengrass.”

Daphne gave a firm nod. She turned to her sparrow. “Fly to Blaise, Blaise Zabini, and if you can't get to him, yell ‘BLAISE, BLAISE, BLAISE’ as loud as you can. Keep going until you know he’s heard you. If he has a message of any kind, bring it back.”

The sparrow nodded, flying off.

Harry grinned at the nervous Slytherin girl. “Clever idea, that. I’m definitely thinking of making you official."

Daphne tried to manage a smile, but failed.

“It flew off,” Ginny reassured her. “If Hermione’s right, which she usually is, he’s not dead. We’ll find him.”

Daphne nodded briskly, not in the mood for reassurances.

No one dared speak again. Daphne remained standing, too nervous to sit or even put her wand away. Warrington started drumming on his armrest, but a sharp look from Ginny silenced him. Draco sat still as a stone, incapable of focusing on anything else for even a second. Minutes ticked by.

The sparrow Patronus flew back in. No one dared breathe. It flew to Daphne, shaking its head. Daphne’s hands flew to her mouth, tears leaking from her eyes. But, so softly that at first they all thought they’d imagined it, the Patronus added, “Shhhh.”

Her tears turned into tears of joy. “He’s alive! He’s not dead, he can speak!”

“Ask your Patronus if it knows where he is,” Hermione commanded. “It might have been able…”

She trailed off as a fireplace lit green. Everyone’s attention turned to the head of the crisp secretary showing in the flames. “Hermione?” she called out.

Hermione ran to it, dropping to her knees. “Go ahead, Clara.”

“An unsecured location is attempting to Floo Slytherin Squad. Should I send the call through to them?”

Warily, Hermione stood. She tossed a glance at Harry over her shoulder. At his nod, she turned back to the fire. “No, redirect it here. I’ll take it.”

The secretary nodded. “Very well, ma'am.” Her head disappeared.

“Wands out,” Harry and Draco said together. Both looked away, pretending they hadn’t. The command was wasted, though, as all around the table the Aurors stood as tensely as coiled springs, wands clenched tightly in their hands.

A curly blond head popped into the fire, looking around nervously. Draco sprinted for the Floo before Nott Jr. could change his mind. “Theo! What’s going on?”

Theodore Nott Jr. held a finger to his lips. In the softest whisper he could manage, he replied, “They might have heard your Patronus. I’m not sure, but they’ll definitely notice the Dementors stirring.”

“Dementors?” Draco whispered fiercely. He dropped to his knees, bringing his head as close as possible. The other Aurors gathered around behind him. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t have much time.” Theo glanced furtively over his shoulder. “They didn’t think to watch me, and I thought maybe you could help?”

“Tell me everything you can.”

The words spilled out as fast as Theo could manage them. “Blaise, Goyle, and the Aurors are held in the basement. We’re in Jugson’s home in Switzerland, but they’re about to move somewhere else, I don’t know where. I’m not sure how much they’ve been able to torture out of the Aurors, but they’ve been trying.” Hermione sucked in a breath at this, but Theo plunged on. “The wards let me call out just fine, so they might let you step through, I’m not sure…”

“It’s worth a shot,” Harry replied firmly. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Theo looked taken aback. “Oh, uh, now? That would be best.”

Hermione tossed powder into a second fireplace. “Fred Weasley!” Her husband’s head appeared in the flames. “If we’re not back in an hour, call Kingsley. Tell him we’re at Jugson’s house in Switzerland.” Fred nodded, and Hermione cut the connection.

She turned to her Aurors. “Let’s go.”

Draco jumped into the flames, everyone else following close on his heels.