Hermione shook out the paper, her fingers skating the edge of the photo. It had been taken at nighttime. Draco had been alive no more than 12 hours ago.

Hermione frowned down at today's New York Ghost: "BATTLES RAGE IN SWITZERLAND."

"Where is Lucius?"

"He was called to Lausanne last night." Narcissa rubbed her brow. "The French are pushing past Geneva."

And sure enough, in the Ghost's article there was mention of incursions east of Geneva. The Prophet, on the other hand, had nothing but inquiries into the Austrian Minister. She had been taken into custody while investigators looked into whether she colluded with the rebels and allowed them to infiltrate the country via the Austrian-Swiss border.

Narcissa duplicated the Ghost pages for her, and excused herself with tired, red-rimmed eyes. Hermione spent the rest of the day sorting through Skeeter's lies and cross-referencing with Gertie Gumley.

At the end of every Gumley article, she signed off with "M.A.C.U.S.A. President Harrison declined to comment for the 33rd week in a row," or "No word from the President's Office on if or when M.A.C.U.S.A. will provide aid to the French or Swiss Ministries, though Scandinavia, Iceland, and Canada have pledged support." Hermione found the reporter's boldness and openness disapproval of the president quite impressive.

She couldn't sleep that night.

One rainy day at the end of February, Skeeter reported that Nott Sr. had been promoted to General and dispatched to Zürich, where the battle continued to rage.

She grew hardened to the lies of the Prophet and the news of war. Her fear for Draco's safety, and the safety of her friends, was a constant burden in her gut, but she was helpless. So she began Occluding daily for at least two hours and buried herself in her research.

One evening on her way back from the library, there were raised voices in the entry hall: one male and one female. Hermione stopped cold, and for a split second she considered turning around. But her control snapped at the sound of a familiar cadence. She crept forward quickly, pressing herself against the wall adjacent to the stairs.

"—a few days. No more—"

"For what purpose? Surely…" Narcissa's voice faded in and out. "...something Bella can handle?"

"The Dark Lord was resolute," the male voice replied. "I must lead the investigation in Austria."

Lucius was here.

"Surely Draco can go with you—" Narcissa's heels clicked across the marble.

"I've already tried." His voice was crisp and clear, as if he meant it to travel past the stairs. "The Dark Lord insisted he stay. Your sister spoke with him first."

Hermione held her breath and shifted quickly out of sight, slipping behind the staircase.

Narcissa muttered something scathing that made Lucius sigh. "Cissa, you mustn't—"

"You'll go back soon, won't you? You'll be there with him?" Her voice shook as it echoed through the walls.

"I'll do my best. I told Ted and your sister to inform me immediately if they're planning a significant counterattack."