Dinner was a strange affair. Narcissa deflected all questions about her visit with Bellatrix, favoring small talk instead. Halfway through their first course, Lucius decided to begin drilling Hermione on the cutlery on the table, quizzing her on their names and purpose as Narcissa glared at him. Draco was mostly silent, apparently preoccupied with drinking more wine than she'd ever seen him drink before. At the end of dinner, Hermione excused herself back to her room, casting a quick look in his direction. He glanced away, and she supposed that meant that they wouldn't be snogging outside their bedrooms anymore.

They continued their translations over the next few days without any incident. But the following Wednesday, there was a headline in the paper about a military initiative in Switzerland. Bellatrix was on the front of the Prophet in a black ensemble, looking quite the role of a murderous general. Lucius had left the previous day. When Hermione asked Narcissa about it over breakfast, she sipped her tea and said, "Lucius has it under control." But her smile was tight. Hermione hoped to get answers from Draco later, but as soon as they reached the library, he pulled away. "I don't know any more than you do, Granger," he clipped, before turning to his translations.

They went to Edinburgh that Friday, but Draco was distracted. Theo was back, his face pinched and pale. Cassandra sat quietly in his lap, unusually demure. At dinner, Draco snapped at anyone who tried to ask about Switzerland. When they went downstairs to the Lounge, it was practically empty — only a few Carrow Girls with trays serving a handful of men at the gambling tables.

Draco tugged her out into the courtyard, following the other boys and whispering an apology in her ear. Before she could ask what for, a wave of sound hit her — a swell of jeering and yelling. Her heart seized with terror at the thought of another One O'Clock Gun, but Draco gripped her elbow tightly as he led her forward, and a peek through the packed crowd allowed her to take in her first view of Seamus Finnigan since the Auction. He was beaten and bloody, brawling with another male Lot. She tried to clear her mind, but she could only watch in horror as Seamus pounded his fist into the other person repeatedly, the crowd's cheers ringing in her ears. Seamus tugged the boy's head up by the hair, and before he slammed his fist into his nose, Hermione recognized Justin Finch-Fletchley beneath the blood. They left soon after, as the crowd whooped at Seamus's victory.

She managed to make it to the Apparition Point before she began crying. Draco held her as the wind whipped around them, his knuckles brushing her tear-stained cheeks. The next morning, he flatly refused to let her go to the library, insisting she had to spend the day practicing her Occlumency. To her annoyance, she agreed.

The following week flew by. There was a triumphant, though heavily censored, article about Switzerland in the Prophet on Monday. She and Draco worked in the library together most mornings after she'd spent an hour Occluding. Both of them were almost through their second journals. And though it was fewer and farther between, Draco still would find a reason to request her assistance in the back of the library, pulling her close to him and working his hands under her shirt.