Happenstance

Regardless of their haste, they diverted to Diagon Alley to buy a wizarding Atlas. The one in the Malfoy library pre-dated Grindelwald, much like their politics. Part road guide, part GPS the unassuming scroll would keep them from Apparating off target. Hermione could name all the capitals of the European Union but jumping blindly from Amsterdam to Zagreb was a masochist’s itinerary.

Stockholm was bright, the sun glistening off snow and shop windows. Draco had Apparated them into an alley a facing a courtyard lined with upmarket stores. The cold air was a shock and for a moment Hermione could not breathe. She pulled her scarf over her face to take refuge in Gryffindor coloured wool.

“We’ll start at the hotel.” Draco strode off crunching through snow like a Viking set on plunder. Hermione followed, walking carefully and debating whether informing the local police would be a good idea. She was certain Narcissa had not and would not.

Lucius would not stand out in Scandinavia, though idle recollection told her the origin of the blonde mutation was most likely Lithuania. How that nugget of information would assist Hermione could not tell. Her mind was racing like a greyhound. She focussed on strategy. She had never given much thought to the logistics of abducting someone. Killing, yes, but not kidnapping.

Abductions in wizarding society were not common unless they were forced betrothals or elopements. And that was definitely not the case here. Hermione could not believe anyone would want to bed Lucius Malfoy. The man was so self-obsessed he and his wife should swap names.

There were difficulties in removing an unwilling wizard, in keeping them, in preventing the victim from being located and freed, from being tracked and a myriad of other obstacles. No, wizards went in for blackmail, staged accidents and threats. It took a phenomenal amount of energy to incarcerate a magical person. Hermione had seen the yearly budgets for Azkaban even when the Dementors were ‘employed’ there. Ward maintenance alone would have bankrupted Greater London.

One of the reasons why the financial stratification of wealth remained more or less constant amongst wizards was the money did not actually move around that much. Once the Ministry got hold of a Galleon, it kept it. Azkaban and projects like it were fiscal black holes. Hermione knew that from campaigning for funding. That was why she was so keen on her department paying for itself. The wizarding world needed transfusions of new money to keep it alive.

Hotel Nisse in the old city was very consciously old world, a seventeenth century building renovated for the twenty-first but trying to hide it. Draco was already interrogating the clerk at the front desk. Hermione let him exert his dominance or whatever his tactics were for getting answers. She paced through the narrow lobby trying to notice things.

As a child she had been very good at the ‘spot what’s missing’ game. Here, Hermione was more interested in detecting traces of magic. She did not use her wand as she did not want to foul the location for the Ministry but she could get a feel for the place. What the witch mostly noticed was the discrete security cameras did not move and someone had been smoking cigars. Nancy Drew, she was not.

“I have the key.” Draco informed her tersely as he stalked past to the elevator. Hermione followed a pace behind like a dutiful housewife while thinking of ways to get a look at the surveillance footage. That would probably be going too far in the eyes of the Aurors so she did not mention it but she did draw Draco’s attention to the fire exit when they reached the fourth floor.

“I bet that leads to a nice quiet side street.” Hermione observed. “I am not saying it would be easy but that would be the way I would get your father out of this hotel. I imagine after all those years at Voldemort’s heel he is quite resistant to Imperious.” Getting Lucius to walk out of the hotel under his own steam would be the easiest way and for a moment she considered if Draco’s father had gone willing.

“If you have something to say, just say it.” Draco’s snapped testily. “If you are thinking Father could’ve set this up himself then don’t. He was a mental wreck when he and Mother left England. There’s no question of him faking. Someone has taken him.”

“Don’t get shirty with me.” She warned. “It is a possibility. Either for magic, coercion, drugs or just plain cussedness. I’m here to help not tell you what you want to hear.”

Draco did not answer. He opens the door to his parent’s hotel room and stopped. It was a pigsty. Clothes and belongings were strewn everywhere. Bedding, pillows and the contents of the barfridge had been scattered as well. And not by Narcissa. She might have grown up with her every need attended by house elves but she was almost obsessed by order. She had very little control otherwise over her own life.

“Don’t touch anything.” Hermione caught Draco’s arm as he reached for his wand to clean up the mess so they could search. “We are not going to disturb this. Whoever did this either has what they wanted or your mother has it. Either way, we will just muddy the waters for the Aurors.”

“I’ll keep the room on for another week, in case Father comes back.” Draco let himself be ushered away from the mess, his temper unreasonably building at the disarray of his parent’s things. His mother’s underwear was scattered over the floor. No one had a right to do that. Narcissa would be mortified.

“Good idea. Let’s check the parking nearby.” Hermione led the way back to the elevator, noticing how warm it was in the hallway. She loosened her coat trying not to feel like a mummy in all her layers. “Once we’re discreetly away from the site we can try a trace on Lucius.”

“It won’t work.” Draco bit back another snap and spoke as mildly as he could as they descended in the little yo-yo box. “Father had himself masked after the Dark Lord fell. He wanted to prevent anyone hunting him down. I guess he overlooked some aspect of the ritual. Someone found him.”