Ignoma's Secret Admirer

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Hermione stared at the ceiling of Draco's guest bedroom long after she woke up.
Despite drinking much more than she usually allowed herself last night, she only had a slight headache to show for it. That sober-up cup had worked wonders for her. She would have to ask Draco for the recipe.
Unfortunately, she hadn't drunk enough to forget the fact that she'd begged him to kiss her last night. That mortifying memory was burned into her brain, worsened by the fact that he had rejected her. And so gently, too.
She groaned just thinking about it. In only a few days, they had gone from spending the night in his room together to chaste forehead kisses. She didn't know whether to be relieved or frustrated.
Although, if she were honest with herself, she was definitely the latter.
After he'd told her about how he'd met Ignoma, she'd wanted to kiss him even more.
Mr. Malfoy is a good man, madam. He is the best man Ignoma has ever met.
The day Ignoma had said that to her, Hermione hadn't had the ability to fathom how deeply the elf must have felt those words.
Ignoma needed them now. She was out there somewhere, Hermione was sure of it.
Rolling out of bed, Hermione padded off to the wardrobe to get started with the day.
She and Draco had decided that before they went after Johanna's contacts, they needed to make a visit to Topper's family again. Hermione was sure that his notes had been stolen for a reason, and she wanted to get to the bottom of why.
She'd offered to go alone, but Draco was adamant about staying by her side. After what had happened the day before, she supposed it would be asking too much of him to let her go on her own. By the way he hovered over her all morning, she guessed that he was feeling somewhat
protective of her
It should have annoyed her, but all it did was make her stomach flutter nervously.
Draco stood close behind her as she knocked on the door of Topper's employer's overly grand estate. The woman who answered the door was middle-aged and elegant in a too thin, airbrushed way. Though it was still morning, she held a large glass of chilled white wine in one hand. She recognized Hermione at once, but her eyes narrowed suspiciously when she saw Draco standing behind her.
"I wasn't expecting you today, Granger," she said rudely.
"So sorry to intrude, Mrs. Sowerby, but I had a few more questions for you. It'll only take a moment," Hermione pled.
Mrs. Sowerby pursed her lips in annoyance. Finally, she threw open the door and allowed them
both to enter behind her. Draco closed the door.
"This whole ordeal has been extremely inconvenient, Granger. First, I have to start paying my house-elf-thanks to your socks thing--and now that he's got his own money, he's gone and run off! Ungrateful little thing," she sniffed. "I've had to resort to hiring his brother instead, and he's
absolutely useless.
Hermione repressed a hateful snort.
"Is Mr. Sowerby home? Might we talk to him as well?" she asked.
Mr. Sowerby had been a bit easier to talk to last time than his wife. He was a reasonable fellow, if a bit out-of-touch. He'd answered most of Hermione's questions with as much detail as he could recall.
"No," Mrs. Sowerby snapped. With a flourish, she settled herself onto a settee in her posh sitting room, gesturing vaguely at a nearby sofa for the two of them to sit on. "He's away on business.
He'd be interested to see you here, Malfoy," she added, with a raised brow.
Draco nodded to her.
"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Sowerby," he said graciously.
"How's your mother?" she asked, sipping her wine.

"She's well, thank you," Draco answered shortly.
"Good. And may I ask why you're here?" The unspoken words "with this muggle-born Ministry worker" were heard by the entire room despite their absence.
"I'm aiding Ms. Granger in her endeavor to find the missing elves. Mine has gone missing as well," he explained.
"Mm." Mrs. Sowerby took another large sip of her wine. "I'm still not convinced they're not just running away. You know that Johanna Wolcroft girl on the radio she has some interesting ideas
ahont all this
Mrs. Sowerby gave Hermione a meaningful look over her glass as she sipped again. Hermione repressed a frustrated huff.
"Mrs. Sowerby, if you could just answer a few questions for me, please, I would very much appreciate it," she said, pulling out a notebook. "Particularly, I wanted to know whether Topper mentioned missing any articles of clothing before he disappeared."
Mrs. Sowerby looked up at her ceiling while she considered the question.
"Don't think so," she answered shortly.
A frustrated sigh built in Hermione's chest.
"Alright," she said. "Did Topper mention where he would go on his days off? Anyone he spent time with?"
"Why would I ask my house-elf such questions?" Mrs. Sowerby sniffed. "His business is his business. As long as the house is clean and the garden is trimmed, I don't care what he does in his
free time "
"Mrs. Sowerby," Draco interjected, for which Hermione was grateful. She was about to start pulling out her hair in frustration with the woman. "I understand why you wouldn't recall many details about Topper's personal life. I hardly asked Ignoma anything ei-"
"IGNOMA?" came a loud, squeaky voice from the door.
As everyone looked over to see who had spoken, a small elf wearing a tiny butler's costume rushed in, his large blue eyes wide with interest. He automatically lowered his head into a cursory bow before launching several high-pitched questions at Draco.
"Did you say Ignoma, sir? Is Ignoma missing too? How long has Ignoma been gone, sir? Please, sir, Tillo is needing to know-
"Tillo!" Mrs. Sowerby snapped. "That is no way to address our guests! Leave at once."
"Wait!" Hermione said, stopping Tillo from skulking away from the room. "Tillo, please stay. Did you say you know Ignoma?"
Tillo nodded his head enthusiastically.
"Tillo is knowing Ignoma, miss! Tillo is her. her..." He trailed off, throwing a panicked glance behind his shoulder at Mrs. Sowerby. "Tillo is knowing her," he finished hesitantly.
Hermione got the impression that Tillo would be a much better source of information for them if Mrs. Sowerby left.
"And you are Topper's brother?" she asked.
Again, Tillo nodded.
"Mrs. Sowerby," Hermione said, putting on a gracious smile. "Would it be alright if we spoke to Tillo alone? Since you seem to be having trouble recalling many details about Topper."
Mrs. Sowerby looked disgruntled, but agreed.
"Fine. I'm busy right now anyway," she said, standing up with the air of a queen sweeping from her throne. "Topper-er, Tillo. Show our guests to the door when they're done. I'll be in the
garden "
Once she had gone, Tillo began speaking so quickly that Hermione could hardly keep up.
"Tillo has been looking for Ignoma for days, madam! He thought Ignoma didn't want to see him anymore! Tillo went to her flat, he visited her favorite shops, he sent letters-but Ignoma did not respond even once! Tillo thought she was angry with him.
"Wait, Tillo, slow down," Hermione said. "When did you last see Ignoma?"
"Tillo saw Ignoma Saturday night, madam!" he said. "Tillo and Ignoma went to the fairy gardens in Brighton together!" Tillo suddenly looked bashful and red, and Hermione realized the elf was blushing
"Tillo, are you, er, Ignoma's boyfriend?" Hermione asked.
Draco glanced at her in surprise. Till shuffled his feet nervously.
"Tillo is not Ignoma's boyfriend, madam," he said hesitantly. "Tillo is only knowing Ignoma for a
short time."
"I see," Hermione said, making a brief note. "Well Tillo, you may have been the last person to see Ignoma before she disappeared. Did she mention she was going anywhere? Leaving town, or going to visit someone?"
"No, madam," Tillo said sadly. "Ignoma spoke of returning to her work on Monday. She did not have plans to leave anywhere."
Hermione nodded.
"And Topper? What about him? Did he talk of leaving?" she asked.
"No, madam." Tillo answered again.
Topper was satisfied with his work here. He was happy to be
making wages and wearing clothes. He did not want to leave."
"Right," Hermione said with a dejected sigh. "Er, did Topper happen to mention anything of his that had gone missing recently? Any clothes, perhaps?"
Topper shook his head, seeming unsure. But then his eyes went wide.
"Topper did not mention any missing clothes, madam, but Ignoma did!" he squeaked suddenly.
Draco leaned forward, very interested.
"What did she say?" he demanded.
"Ignoma said she went to buy a new dress before going on her date with Tillo on Saturday night!
She said that the dress she had planned to wear had gone missing from her closet!"
Hermione and Draco looked at one another, thinking the same thing. They had known Ignoma had gone to Midgen and Millie's that morning, but they hadn't realized the dress she had purchased was a replacement for one that had gone missing
"Good, alright," Hermione said, noting it in her book. "And Tillo-think very carefully for me-did either Ignoma or Topper talk about anything strange happening around them? Any new people they had met, or new places they had gone?"
Tillo sucked in his lips, thinking hard. He stared at a spot on the floor, concentrating very hard.
"Topper went to a new healer a few weeks ago, miss," Tillo said. "He had a sort of infection on his ears. Tillo heard him saying that he was going to visit a healer who helped elves. But that was weeks ago, miss. Long before Topper went missing."
"No, no, that's good," Hermione said, scribbling the information down. "Do you happen to know the name of this healer, Tillo?"
Tillo shook his head, his ears drooping.
"No, madam. Tillo is not knowing who the healer is. Only that he helps elves."
Hermione nodded, a twinge of disappointment tweaking her stomach.
"What about Ignoma?" Draco asked. "Did she visit this healer? Or anyone else?"
"Ignoma did not tell Till about such things," Tillo said sadly. "She is private with Tillo. She is only knowing him a short time." Tillo sighed. Hermione wondered if Ignoma knew how infatuated this poor elf had become with her. "But sir might find out from Ignoma's diary," Tillo added hopefully.
"Diary?" Draco repeated. "She kept a diary?"
Tillo nodded vigorously.
"Ignoma said that she wrote everything in her diary!" Tillo exclaimed. "She is not sharing everything with Tillo, but all Ignoma's thoughts go into her diary!"
Hermione wrote this down as Draco asked, "Do you know where this diary is?"
Tillo shook his head.
"Ignoma's diary is probably in Ignoma's flat. But Tillo doesn't know where she keeps it precisely."
"That's alright, Tillo," Hermione said. "That's very helpful. Is there anything else you can recall?
Anything that might help us find them?"
Tillo told her a few other things that he could remember. Hermione noted them all down dutifully, but she was doubtful they would be very significant. Beside her, Draco was becoming fidgety, taking out his wand to tap it impatiently against his leg. She knew he wanted to go home and check Ignoma's flat for her diary.
When Hermione wrapped up their conversation, Tillo bowed low to them both at the door.
"If madam or sir has any need of Tillo, anything at all, they should call out Tillo's name! He will find them," Tillo announced.
Hermione thanked the elf profusely, took Draco's arm, and left.
Once they were back in the hall to Draco's flat, he took her arm and pulled her in the opposite direction of his door. Draco shoved the button for the lift at the end of the hall, still holding onto Hermione's arm as though he was worried she would float away from him. Hermione didn't bother to extricate herself.
"I take it you didn't know that Ignoma kept a diary?" Hermione asked on their way down to a
lower floor.
"No," Draco replied shortly. "Do you know of any healers who specialize in elves?"
"There are a few, but I don't know any personally. And I doubt any of them would be willing to give us lists of their patients to cross-reference." she said
Unceremoniously, he led her down a hallway on one of the lower levels of the building and stopped at a door near the end. Using his wand to unlock it, he stepped in, pulling Hermione along behind him.
The small flat was tidy, if a bit dusty from disuse in the past two weeks. Everything had been lowered to elf-height except for the ceilings. A pile of mail had accumulated on the floor just inside her door, and Hermione thought she saw a pink valentine from Till amongst the letters. There were several pieces of elf-sized furniture around the room, including a small bed that had been positioned in the corner farthest from the kitchenette.
"She has a bedroom," Draco said. "But she converted it into a closet. Ignoma has a truly impressive collection of clothes."
Indeed, when Hermione peeked into the bedroom, she saw that it was overrun with racks and racks of clothes. Dresses and robes in every color, hats and scarves, jewelry, cutoff jeans, jumpers, and shoes-so many shoes that their racks reached up to the ceilings. The elf had always been stylish, but Hermione hadn't dreamed that Ignoma would have so much.
"Dobby was like that too," Hermione recounted. "He was obsessed with collecting clothes. Though he never had Ignoma's sense of fashion."
Draco nodded absently. He was looking around, presumably trying to find Ignoma's diary.
Hermione raised her wand
"Accio diary!" she said clearly.
From a shelf behind a rack of trousers, a tiny book hurled its way to Hermione's outstretched hand.
Draco looked miffed.

"Still outsmarting me every day, Granger," he said, coming over to look at it with her.
Tillo had been right Ignoma wrote down everything. Draco read over her shoulder as she flipped through it. There were lists of chores, errands Ignoma had run for Draco, magazine cutouts of clothing she admired, recipes she had tried, and more. The later entries mentioned Tillo, a handsome elf she had met in Diagon Alley who had asked her out. Hermione flipped backward, searching for something about a visit to a healer. For a moment, she thought she'd found it only the healer Ignoma had written about was for Draco. As Draco cleared his throat and reached around her to flip away from that page, Hermione realized that the entry had been about his most
recent relapse
"Here's something," she said, stopping the pages at the mention of another healer. "She went to see a healer for elves about a month ago. While you were away for the wedding, it looks like."
"Healer Robert Selwyn," Draco read. "She had an appointment for a skin ailment. On her ears."
Draco and Hermione looked at one another.
"Tillo said his brother had an ear infection," she said. "Maybe it's related somehow."
"It's certainly a coincidence," Draco mused.
"A healer might have a reason to draw blood from his patients. For testing," Hermione said, her eyes going wide.
"Access to blood. Missing clothes. It could fit," Draco said.
He looked drawn, Hermione saw. It was a harrowing thought. Ignoma had spent most of her life as a slave working in horrible conditions. She had only been free a few years, and now it seemed she had been stolen away again, taken from her loved ones and forced back into captivity without warning.
"This healer. We'll look him up. Pay him a visit," she said, trying to draw him out of the terrible place his mind seemed to have gone.
Draco's jaw worked angrily, but he nodded in agreement.
"Today," he stated.
"It's still the weekend," Hermione said, biting her lip nervously. "He probably won't be in."
"All the better," Draco ground out. "As he's unlikely to tell us outright that he's been kidnapping and enslaving elves."
"You want to break into his office?" Hermione said, aghast. "Isn't it a bit premature? We don't even know if he saw any of the missing elves besides Ignoma." Draco shrugged coldly.
"If we don't find anything, then it won't be a problem for him. But this feels like too much of a coincidence to overlook, Hermione."
His eyes were hard, in the way they always were when his mind was made up. The more she got to know him, the more she had begun to recognize a certain stubbornness in him. Especially when it
came to ignoma.
"Alright," Hermione whispered. "Let's find out where his office is."
Draco led the way out of Ignoma's flat, locking it up behind them with a swift flick of his wand.
Hermione nervously looked around, hoping no muggles were in the corridor.
"You should be more careful," she whispered to him in the lift. "Someone might have seen your wand back there."
Draco gave her a look, bemused and arrogant.
"Ah, I forgot to mention, I suppose," he said, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. "There aren't any muggles in the building."
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.
"None? How do you know?" she asked.
Draco looked at the doors of the lift as he said, "Because it's wizards only here. I hired a wizarding property management company to take care of everything.
Hermione was silent for a beat. Then, with a blink, she realized what he meant.
"You own this whole building?" she gasped.
Draco's smile was quite badly hidden now.
"This and quite a few others," he said, amused at her shock. He looked down at her, smirking.
"What, you thought the great Malfoy legacy was contained to a mansion and a single vault at Gringotts? Hermione, I'm surprised at you."
He was right. She should have known. Wealth and power like the Malfoys had would surely include assets across Europe, or even intercontinentally, she expected. Still, it was strange to think that he owned not just his penthouse suite, but the entire building. Suddenly, what he'd said about
"his building" being a fortress made much more sense. There were probably runes for protection engraved on the beams inside the walls, perhaps carved into the bricks. It was, in fact, the perfect place for her to hide.
Then again, Ignoma lived here, and someone had gotten to her.
But they were going to find her. And, Hermione knew by the cold, determined look that had returned to Draco's face, he would not rest until the people responsible were destroyed.

Chapter End Notes

A lot of you have been speculating in the comments about Ron's involvement in the plot. Since I like you, I'll tell you where to find some hints about what I have planned.
There are important clues in chapters 35, 40, 42, and 43. Some of them you've already found. Some of them ghosted right past you.
Of course, you could just wait until I finally reveal everything at the end. But where's the fun in that?
Happy hunting, darlings.

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