From Wiltshire, With Love

Chapter 73

I love you.

Hermione sat on her cot, staring at the warm Galleon in her hand in relief, and closed her eyes for a moment. Draco was okay, no one knew it was him that broke her out of Azkaban.

She thumbed the Galleon in reply.

I know.

She stared at the glowing letters. For all Draco was doing for her, loving him wasn't enough. Her nightmare was a visceral and terrifying reminder of what his role as spy was costing him. It was her turn to fight for him.

She thumbed the Galleon again and shoved it in her pocket.

I'm not letting you go.

Draco didn't understand the details of what she was facing by trying to secure a pardon for him, but he understood corruption. And so did she. Corrupt politicians all had weaknesses, by definition. Hermione just had to find Kingsley's.

Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to utilize the knowledge she gained from staking out Kingsley's home prior to the raid because of the need to make Portkeys.

But now she could.

Draco would be coming this week to lay all his cards on the table before Order leadership. But he needed ammunition, and Hermione was going to fucking get it for him.

She clenched her jaw in determination and peered at the nail she held between her thumb and index finger. Charmed to absorb liquid, it now contained a small amount of Kingsley's blood. Not a lot, but it would suffice. After much cursing at the errant nail protruding from the kitchen chair, which Hermione kindly removed for him, Kingsley returned to discussing with Minerva and Tonks how the Order would recuperate and go on the offensive. Hermione explained that the Trio's quest was nearly at an end, and Voldemort could soon be killed like any other mortal wizard.

In the meantime, they needed to devise a plan for retaking the Ministry and other wizarding institutions in the wake of the chaos Voldemort's death would cause.

Hermione was incredibly grateful for the lessons in Occlumency Kingsley had given her access to. Ironically, she was using the skill against him now. Every time he spoke, she suppressed the urge to claw his eyes out. He was prioritizing his post-war political ambitions over the future of a spy who was critical to any victory the Order could hope to achieve.

All Draco wanted in exchange was an Unbreakable Vow for a pardon, which Kingsley should have no trouble giving. Hermione would ensure he did. She smiled sweetly at the sodding bastard while he relayed the individuals that could be relied upon in the Ministry.

No, the smile was overdoing it. Instead, she schooled her expression into one of interest and nodded in agreement while he spoke.

Using lingering pain as an excuse to return to her tent to rest, Hermione left the meeting after twenty minutes. She was still in a lot of pain anyway, and didn't have to try very hard to be convincing. No one batted an eye. She didn't know exactly how long Kingsley would be held up, but had no doubt she'd have a decent amount of time to search his house while he wasn't present.

Hermione dropped the nail into a glass jar with a clink and cast a charm to extract Kingsley's blood. It wasn't much, but diluting it with water would provide enough for what she needed, and she watched the liquid level rise slowly upon prodding it with a gentle Aguamenti.

After she swirled the liquid around, Ginny walked into the tent with an expression of concern on her face. "How are you feeling?"

Everything hurt. Absolutely everything. Her muscles, her bones, her joints. The pain potions helped somewhat but they made Hermione drowsy, and she needed to be aware for what she was about to do.