Her chest tightened at her parents’ last birthday card to her. She didn’t open it. Seeing her mother’s handwriting would be too hard. It would distract her, soften her. That’s what he wanted. She saw a note she’d written Harry. Her planning book. Her perfume. A case file with her parents’ names on it. Her ministry identification card. Her stomach sank. All the clues she’d left for Harry and Ron had fallen on deaf ears. It hadn’t been them that found her. It was Malfoy. That clever bastard had no business poking around in her disappearance. She knew the Ministry would assign Ron and Harry to the case. It should have been them. It was always supposed to be them.