Once Charlotte drank the potion returning her memories, it was crucial that Draco permanently Obliviated the memory of him taking her memories in the first place, the night Edinburgh was attacked — to cover his tracks.

It was a complex plan, but Draco seemed confident enough. And she trusted that he could do it.

They decided to have lunch with Narcissa to head off attention before he slipped away. But on their way to the dining room, they stumbled on a flurry of activity in the entryway.

They both froze to see Lucius across the room, freshly emerged from the Floo. He was stepping around the elves as they tried to take his cloak from him.

"Leave me," he hissed. "That's quite enough—"

Narcissa stood at the bottom of the stairs with her hands folded, watching him anxiously. "Is everything alright? I thought you'd be in Poland by now—"

"Change of plans. I'm headed to Baffin Island," he said sharply, striding over to kiss her cheek. "I need to drop off a few things, and then I'll be on my way."

Narcissa's face fell before she blinked away her disappointment. Lucius nodded once at his son before walking briskly down the hallway and turning the corner toward his study.

Hermione's mind whirred. Baffin Island was Canadian territory, just off its eastern coast. Lucius was headed to Canada — one of the few countries pledging support to the True Order. Her stomach twisted violently.

Narcissa turned to the two of them with a thin smile. "Lunch is served. I'll be there shortly."

Hermione walked to the dining room, her skin clammy as she exchanged looks with Draco. Neither of them spoke until Narcissa joined them, confirming Lucius had already left with a brush to her lashes.

Hermione and Draco hurried to his room after lunch. Draco hadn't heard anything more than whispers about a counterattack, but he agreed that Canada was the likely target. They were both too on edge from Lucius's visit, and decided Edinburgh would have to wait until tomorrow. Hermione spent the rest of the day pacing in front of Draco's chairs, quizzing him on various scenarios that might unfold during his visit to Edinburgh while he rolled his eyes.

But all the while, she wondered what it was Lucius needed to do in his study so desperately that he'd left his post — with barely a moment to greet his family.

Just after lunch on Sunday, when Narcissa had retired to her room, Draco collected his potions, kissed her swiftly, and swept out the door. Hermione watched his figure grow smaller down the lane, the April wind billowing his cloak.

It would be fine. It had to be.

Hermione turned from the doorway after he cleared the gates and popped out of existence. She let her eyes drift across the Manor's entryway, feeling an itch across her shoulder blades as if there was something she needed to be doing.

But there was nothing.

A strange emptiness settled over her. She'd done her part. By the end of the day, she and Draco would have aided the True Order by returning Charlotte's memories and passing along the antidote to the tattoos. They had to discuss their next steps when he returned, but for now… she had accomplished her mission. The thing that had consumed her for months.