By noon on Monday, she was almost done with her first book. She read the Prophet over lunch, catching a small article on Page 3 about rioting in Italy. And not an hour later, Mippy appeared with trembling eyes and her afternoon coffee, telling her that Draco had been called away.

Narcissa came to her two days later, gently inquiring about her well-being and pressing a letter into her hands that updated the "household" on the situation in Italy. Hermione cross-referenced the little information in Draco's note with what Skeeter had been printing, and deduced that he'd been sent to control unrest fueled by the disappearances of Antonio Bravieri's former council members. He wouldn't be able to write again while he was away, but he claimed to be safe and begged his mother not to worry.

Once she was finished with it, Hermione crumpled his note in her palm. There was nothing worth saving in those words, and she already felt foolish holding onto a few scraps of paper from before. She crossed the room to the jewelry box on her bedside table and reached for the other notes from him, ready to toss them all into the flames — but something paused her. She smoothed and tucked the latest letter in the jewelry box, and then stared out her window for the next hour, watching the horizon.

~*~

The weeks dragged on in Draco's absence, and Hermione threw herself into her research. The journals pulled by the catalog seemed critical, but she'd mostly found fragments and riddles. Some spells were clearly relevant — a "lightning barrier," for example— but its directions listed strange ingredients and symbols that were clearly in code.

It would be so much easier if she had a hint or two. Someone to point her in one direction or another. In the evenings, as she applied the cream Pansy had forced on her, she would consider Theo Nott, wondering how she could glean information from him about his father's work on the tattoos.

As August stretched to a close, Hermione began seeing Narcissa for daily meals again. Narcissa seemed to intuit that something had happened, because she never mentioned Draco by name. Hermione was grateful for it, and for her company. They were welcome breaks from her research and Occlumency.

One morning, they were having breakfast together when Hermione looked down at the Daily Prophet and found a picture of the Hogwarts Express. The date on the paper read 01 September. She gasped, her fork clattering on the china.

Narcissa looked up from her plate with wide eyes, caught mid-bite.

"Hogwarts reopened?"

A shadow flitted over Narcissa's face. She finished chewing and gave a single nod. "For pure-bloods, yes."

Hermione's eyes sped through the article, snatching on words like Headmistress Dolores Umbridge, Dark Magics, and Introduction to Interrogation. Her stomach turned in disgust.

"This is hardly an education. They're training child soldiers!"

"Things have changed… significantly, Hermione." Narcissa set down her cutlery and closed her eyes, exhaling. "Parents had the option to educate their children at home, but all will be tested on the new curriculum at the end of the school year."