Title: Blind Trust

Authors: Fiery Disposition and Crazy Iris

Disclaimer: We do not own Harry Potter and Co. (although we wish we did). No money is being made (unfortunately) so don't sue (that would just be stupid).

Rating: R just in case

Summary: In the years following Voldemort's defeat, The Order of the Phoenix is helping to restore order to the Wizarding World. But recently, strange coincidences have been noticed and a traitor is suspected within the Order. Yet the closer the truth gets to being revealed, the deeper unsuspecting victims get pulled into the web of half truths and whole lies. Old relationships are put to the test, while unlikely ones are formed as the question, "Who can be trusted?" gets closer to having an answer.

Pairings: Hermione/Pansy, Remus/Sirius are the established pairs. At least one other will surface though.

Warning: Contains slash. If you don't like it, don't read it. No one is forcing you, so we don't want to hear your bitching. Flame someone who cares.

Chapter 1: Cleansweeps, Howlers, Malfoys, and Erklings

"Professor Potter?"

Harry turned around to face the little girl. She was one of the few students left who did not have their broomstick in their hand. Her frustration was evident as she cast a glare at the old Cleansweep, before turning her big brown eyes on him, a pleading look in them. Harry needed new brooms. He could hardly teach another year of students on these old relics. But instead of scowling with her at the broom, Harry just smiled, walked over, and crouched down in front of his student. Now that he was eye level with her, Harry asked, "So what seems to be the problem, Ms. Meers?"

Cassandra Meers gave her professor a frustrated smile. All of the students, well at least the ones in Ravenclaw, liked Professor Potter. He was really nice and didn't talk to them like they were little kids, or worse, like they were covered in slime and had a nasty disease. She suppressed a shudder as she remembered her first Potions class with Professor Snape just before lunch. Instead she said, "It's my broom, Professor. It won't move when I say, 'up'."

Harry cast a glance at her broom. "Show me what you do, " he told her.

With a sigh, Cassandra opened her tiny hand, held it over her broom, and yelled, "UP!" Not even a twig twitched.

Harry frowned slightly. True, part of it was her form- the way she held her hand, her body language, and even the tone of her voice- but a good portion of it was the broom. I really need to talk to Dumbledore about those new brooms, he thought.

Yet, Harry smiled and said, "Well, let's see if we can't get it to listen. Here, give me your hand." When she had placed her hand in his, he turned her palm face down. "Now part of the problem is that your hand isn't open far enough. If the broom would have come up earlier, it would have smacked your fingers rather hard and that wouldn't feel good now, would it?" With a smile, she shook her head no.

Opening her palm wide, fingers completely stretched out, Harry continued, "Now hold your hand like this over the handle of the broom." Cassandra nodded and did as she was told. "Good, " Harry said with a smile, "This time when you say, 'up', I want you to say it as a command. Scold it. Say 'up' as if that what it's expected to do and if it doesn't listen to you, " Harry wagged his finger at the broom, "then it will be in big trouble." He raised an eyebrow at her as he smiled. "Think you can do that?"

Giggling, Cassandra nodded. Harry stood up and took a couple steps back to watch her movements. Palm face down, fingers stretched as straight as they would go, Cassandra glared down at her broom. "Up!" she commanded and the broom shot up, right into her hand. Cassandra gapped in astonishment before turning a huge, delighted grin on Harry.

Harry returned her grin. "Five points to Ravenclaw. That was one of the best commands I've ever heard, Ms. Meers. Great Job."

Harry turned back to the rest of the Ravenclaw first years. He was happy to see that all of them now had their broomsticks in their hands. "Ok, class, that is all for today. Next time, we should be able to start low level hovering, and maybe even some flying. I'll see you then."

The first years chattered as the students took their brooms to the broom shed. Everyone knew how passionate Professor Potter was about flying, and no one dared mistreat the brooms, even if they were Cleansweeps.

Harry watched as the first years trekked back up to the castle. Hogwarts had seen a slight increase in the number of incoming first years, and so, many of the classes were single house only. Flying and Quidditch class was just one out of a few others that had been changed.

So far this year, his classes had turned out to be uneventful overall. Then again, he reminded himself, he had only had the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs, and while he didn't expect anything more than the usual rowdiness out of his Gryffindors, he knew that the Slytherin group could prove more troublesome.

Harry walked into the broom shed to give it a quick once over. Everything was neat and orderly, just as he had expected it to be. But as he was locking the door, a movement out of his peripheral vision made him turn his head. Harry's eyes scanned the stands and the bushes around the Quidditch Pitch. Nothing. Shaking his head slightly, Harry turned back to the door and finished locking it. He thought he had seen someone for a moment, and as he walked off the Pitch he still carried with him the feeling of being watched.

Harry sighed. It was probably just a student trying to spy on him. Even three years after the end of the Second Voldemort War, he still had trouble with fans. He couldn't explain it. It wasn't as if he had killed Voldemort on his own. It had been a team effort.

Well, there was no use in worrying about it now, especially when there were more important things to consider, like Dinner and broomsticks. Maybe he'd talk to Dumbledore at Dinner about the Cleansweeps.

~~~

"Any breaking news, Miss Granger?"

Hermione grinned as she took the latest edition of the Daily Prophet and dropped five Knuts into the hand of the in-office vendor. "None today, Earl. See you tomorrow." She said cheerfully. "Same time as always."

Without another word, she strode off down the hallway toward her office. That's the last time I leave the window open. She thought as the sight of her desk piled high with incoming mail greeted her.

She sighed as she dropped her copy of the Daily Prophet onto the chair in front of her desk, and hung her coat over the back of it. It was quite often she found her desk in this state in the morning. Some contained good news while others… she eyed the howlers in the pile disdainfully.

Hermione dropped into the chair behind her desk with another sigh and began picking her way through the mail. Yet, she wasn't a quarter of the way through before a voice caused her to look up.

"As the meeting came to a close, a hushed silence fell over the crowd at the awaited verdict. One of the members from the board stood up and pronounced that house elves would no longer have the title of servant, and if wizards wished to continue their employment then the elves would have to receive a working wage. A few of the gathered house elves cried where as others shouted triumphantly and joyously at the news. The decision the board has made will only prove to be one more step toward freedom and equality, not only for humans, but for all creatures."

Pansy Parkinson folded the newspaper back up as she looked at Hermione from her position in the doorway. "Pure poetry, hon." A delighted grin was directed at the bushy haired woman sitting behind the desk. "You finally did it. Years of hard work finally paid off."

Hermione frowned, "It only took three years for it to happen."

"What matters is that it did happen," Pansy explained as she walked around and sat on the edge of Hermione's desk.

"I wish everyone felt that way," Hermione complained as she picked up a howler and tore it open. A voice spilled out from the glowing red envelope, raging on about losing a house elf because of her. She tossed it into a special, soundproof, explosion proof bin labeled "Howlers".

Pansy shrugged. "Not everyone is ready for changes."

"I know." Hermione said with a faint scowl as she tossed another one of the howlers into the bin. If there was one thing that bothered Hermione, it was unfair or unequal rights and discrimination of any sort. She supposed it came from being taunted for being Muggle born while at Hogwarts. It had taken her years of work at the Daily Prophet, working as a reporter, and fighting against the Ministry's system until the new law, that house elves were no longer titled servants, had finally been proclaimed. But despite the endless nights of work and the weekend less job, she had found one good thing in her time spent at the Daily Prophet and the S.P.E.W Organization- Pansy.

"Hey," Pansy said lifting Hermione's chin with one finger. "A change this big just takes time to get use to." She brushed a chaste kiss across Hermione's lips before sliding off the edge of the desk and walking toward the door. "I better get to work. I have a few articles I need to finish before lunch." She paused in the doorway and glanced back at her lover. "Which reminds me, lunch with Draco at noon."

Hermione scowled.

"You promised." Pansy frowned. "Please, Hermione? I promise he'll be on his best behavior." No matter how hard Hermione had tried and continued to try, her lover could never get along with the cocky Malfoy heir.

"Oh, now that's saying something, " Hermione quipped, but Pansy just sighed.

"I had to sit through a whole Christmas Eve with the entire clan of Weasley's. The least you can do is sit through an hour of lunch with Draco and I."

Hermione nodded her head, sullenly. She hated it when Pansy used a guilt trip on her, and the Weasley dinner never failed to work. "Alright, but if he says one derogatory comment, I leave."

Pansy smiled. "Thank you."

~~~

Draco Malfoy scowled as he made his way through the crowd toward the restaurant. As much as he was looking forward to seeing Pansy, he knew that she would bring Ms. Hermione Granger, Know-It-All Extrordinaire, Champion of the House Elf with her.

As he reached the door to O'Riley's, Draco paused. Closing his eyes, he mentally prepared himself, then squaring his shoulders, he opened the door and walked in.

Immediately, he caught sight of Pansy. She looked lovely as always. Her clothing exhibited taste that could only be developed by years of upper class training. Some time during the war, she had finally grown into her features, and while her nose kept her from being drop dead gorgeous, she wasn't exactly ugly either. She stood as he approached her table, a pleased smile on her lips. They embraced, kissing each other on the cheek, a habit which was as much inbred in her as it was in him. Pulling back, Pansy said, "Well, hello, handsome."

Draco smiled at her usual greeting, and replied, "Hello, gorgeous." As they sat down on opposite side of the table, Draco raised an eyebrow. "So where is the lovely Ms. Granger?"

Pansy glared at him, "Oh stop it, Draco. Don't think I missed the sarcasm." She sighed before giving him a pleading look. "Please, can't you be nice." At Draco's snort, she amended, "Ok, be civil. At least be civil to her. I know you don't like her, I know the two of you don't get along at all, but she's my girlfriend. I would appreciate it if my girlfriend and my best friend would get along, at least for my sake." Then a thought occurred to her, and she looked at him with a twinkle in her blue eyes. "Harry and I get along famously, and Weasley and I came to a truce over Christmas."

Draco glared at her before sighing and muttered, "You can take the girl out of Slytherin, but you can't take Slytherin out of the girl." He gave her a small smile, and reaching across to take her hand, said, "All right, Pansy. I know how much this means to you. I'll try to be civil, but," he said, giving her a warning look, "That's all I can promise."

Pansy squeezed his hand in thanks, before looking at her wrist watch. "She should be here any moment now. She just had a few things to finish up before she could leave the office."

Draco nodded as their waitress came up and got their drink order, Pansy ordering for Hermione. Just as he was about to ask Pansy a question, Hermione showed up, sliding into the booth beside Pansy.

"Sorry, I'm late," she said, placing a kiss on Pansy's cheek. Turning back around, she saw Draco and gave him a cool look before finally nodding. "Mr. Malfoy."

Draco returned her look and her nod, and said, "Ms. Granger."

Hermione turned back to Pansy again, and explained, "I was still throwing away howlers. After you left, I received five more. I swear the numbers get larger every day."

Draco leaned back against the cushion as he smirked. "Did you get the one I sent?"

Hermione glared at him from across the table. "Yes, I put it in the bin marked 'Obnoxious Gits'."

Pansy just rolled her eyes. Honestly, the two of them were more stubborn than a whole team of mules. Neither Draco nor Hermione would tell her the source of this long standing grudge. At first she had chalked it up to the whole "you're a filthy mudblood" thing at school, but with Draco now openly working as an Auror, that wasn't likely to be it. Besides both had denied any animosity because of that.

Sighing, Pansy looked at Draco and asked, "So what's new at the Agency?" She wanted desperately to change the subject before Hermione and Draco caused an insult war in the middle of the restaurant.

Draco turned back to Pansy and shrugged, "Nothing much, honestly. Just the usual, rounding up remaining dark arts artifacts, doing paper work, scaring the children."

Pansy chuckled at his answer. "Sometimes I think that is the only reason you stick with that job. Merlin knows it's not for the money." Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had died surprisingly early in the Second Voldemort War. Apparently, the Dark Lord was non too pleased with their 'secret' plot to overthrow his authority and rule instead. So, at the age of seventeen, Draco became master of Malfoy Manor and sole owner of a very full vault in Gringotts.

Draco grinned at her. "Yes, their gasps of fear are very amusing." He shook his head. "Whose brilliant idea was it, exactly, for the Aurors to tell war stories to children?"

Hermione, who had been resolutely staring at her drink while running her fingers around the outside of the glass, looked up sharply at Draco's question. "It was mine, Mr. Malfoy. No matter what you or anyone else thinks, it is a good idea. We form our conceptions of right and wrong at an early age. What better way to teach the children about prejudices than with war stories? Besides, the Aurors are only supposed, " Here, she gave him a piercing look, "To tell them mild ones. We don't want to scare them out of their minds, just caution them."

The air was thick with tension as Pansy and Hermione waited for Draco's reply. He looked at her for a moment, his face betraying no emotion as his eyes roamed over her face. Then, after glancing at Pansy, he said, "I happen to agree with you for once, Ms. Granger. No sarcasm was meant in my comment." He smirked at her. "Besides, we saw what happened to me."

Pansy didn't realize she had been holding her breath, until she gave a quiet sigh of relief at Draco's reply. Relaxing, she leaned back against the cushion. Well, maybe today would go so badly after all.

~~~

Ron stepped out from beneath the mantle of the unusually tall fireplace into Harry's private quarters at Hogwarts. He dusted the ash and soot from his clothes as he glanced around the dirty flat. It looks as though a wild boar has run through here on a rampage, he thought as he jumped over a pile of dirty clothes sitting in the middle of the floor. It was a marvel to Ron how Harry actually lived in this pigsty.

He walked out of the entrance to the room and gave a casual wave to the portrait as he knew Harry should be on his way out of the Great Hall seeing as lunch had just ended. His long stride took him down the familiar halls of the school. He darted around children as they filtered out from the Great Hall. Ron slipped in through the door. The Great Hall was nearly empty as the children finished their lunches and went off to their next classes.

Ron spotted Harry speaking to Dumbledore as the two strode down the center aisle toward him.

"Albus, it's not that I feel the Cleansweeps are dangerous, but-"

Ron shook his head. Of course it would be just like Harry to want to have new brooms to teach his students. Ron knew that Harry loved flying and brooms with a passion, although it had shocked him to learn that Harry had taken the position as Flying Instructor rather than become a professional Quidditch player.

Dumbledore raised a hand and silenced Harry. "I understand, Harry. I, too, feel the children would learn much better on newer brooms.

Harry smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Headmaster."

"I believe I know a few companies that would be happy to provide the children with new brooms." Dumbledore glanced at Ron. "Now, I will leave you with your visitor. I assume you have much to catch up on?"

"Yes. Thank you again, Albus."

Dumbledore gave a nod in greeting to Ron before disappearing out of the Great Hall's doors. As Harry approached, he smirked. "Finally found someone with the same temper?" He asked and motioned to the purplish bruise that had formed on Ron's cheek near his right eye.

Ron rubbed the bruise gently. "Troll."

"Mountain?" Harry winced remembering the troll Hermione, Ron, and himself had faced in their first year at Hogwarts.

"Nah, one of the little ones got out of control." Ron answered as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Apparently it was walking around the nearest village taking its club to garbage cans."

Harry quirked an eyebrow as he gave Ron an amused expression. "One of the little ones?"

"Hey, they're nasty, mean tempered buggers when things don't go their way. They give a whole new meaning to terrible twos." Ron fingered the bruise again. "Nearly took my head off too. Luckily, I dodged out of the way."

"Clearly not soon enough." Harry joked.

"I've had worse." Ron shrugged nonchalantly. "And seen worse." It was true, in his five years of working at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Ron had seen more death and gore then during the entirety of the war. Even though they lost a lot of wizards and muggles to Voldemort and the Death Eaters, it was for the most part clean. Avada Kedavra didn't exactly spray the surrounding area in blood. Besides, Ron was the strategian, not the leader of the troops, so he never saw a lot of fighting until the end.

Ron worked as one of the animal hunters at the Department, but unlike a muggle hunter, Ron was only sent out to detain animals or creatures that have caused damage to property. The animals then, after their capture, were sent to holding cells or non-populated regions until they were tagged, so that the department knew where they were at all times, and allowed to be set back in the wild.

"Anyone new or are you still with... Elanor... Elena... What was it again?" Harry asked wanting to change the subject as they walked down the halls back toward Harry's quarters.

"Elizabeth." Ron gave Harry an odd look. "And that ended months ago." He narrowed his eyes in thought. "Besides I thought I told you about Darlene?"

"Oh that's right." Harry ran his fingers through his hair. It was hard to keep track of Ron's love life. The red-head changed girlfriends more times than the wealthy bachelor Draco Malfoy. It was either the fiery tempered man's job that drove them away or his lack of commitment. Harry would have to ask him one day about that. "Well then, how are things with Darlene?"

Ron sighed. "Over." He scowled. "Apparently she couldn't handle me being gone all the time and found herself someone else."

"I'm sorry?" Harry offered before saying the password to his quarters.

Ron shrugged as he followed Harry into the portrait, his expression changing from sour to a more calm look. "It would have ended sooner or later. Better sooner than later, I say." He changed the subject. "And what about you? Anyone new?"

"No." Harry answered swiftly as he cleared room on the couch and motioned for Ron to sit down.

Ron tossed a dirty sock to the side and sat down. "I can see why with this pigsty. It amazes me that Hermione doesn't nag you into cleaning it when she comes to visit."

"She would," Harry plopped down into the armchair across from Ron. "But I always clean before she comes. Which I would have done if I knew you were stopping by." He hinted at Ron.

"Ah, right." Ron shrugged. "I was in the area and thought I'd stop by for a visit. Going to see Hermione next."

"You were in the area?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"

"There had been reports of an Erkling disturbing a few people in the Hogsmeade area. Someone alerted us and they sent me, claiming that I would know the area better than any of the other team members." Ron snorted. " Bloody lazy lot, if you ask me."

"That's odd, I haven't heard anything of that sort." Harry said confused. "Dumbledore would have told me if there was attacks in the Hogsmeade area. Especially considering what an Erkling likes to eat."

"I guess the Ministry is keeping it under wraps, not wanting to scare the public." Ron frowned.

Harry shook his head. "But I thought they were only located in Germany?"

"Apparently a couple got over the border." Ron leaned back in the chair. "I tell you the Britain Minister almost had an apoplectic fit when he found out. We all thought Germany had strict control of the creatures."