Hi everyone. First-time writer for this fandom. Please tell me what you think about it. The story is already planned out, but I really like to hear speculation and theories. I know my interpretation but I'd rather know yours :)
The Finder – Chapter 1
Hermione spell-locked her office precisely at 6:30pm. She had a dinner date with Ron at Fizban Warlocks; an up and coming restaurant in Leicester Square honed for its traditional wizarding cuisine. To Hermione's delight, Ron had suggested it earlier this week. He admitted later that he only knew about it because its review was next to the Quidditch section in the Sunday Prophet.
Either way, Hermione was pleased. Ron had managed to keep her quite happy these past few years. He was always helpful around the house, understanding when she came home hours late from work, and would often plan their social events. Tonight they were meeting Harry and Ginny for drinks at the Three Broomsticks before dinner.
As she walked the marble floors of the Ministry of Magic she passed a few Aurors talking in the corridor with Emelia Jorkins, Junior head of the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. She was a vibrant woman with dull features. Hermione had met her several times at Ministry related dinners since she worked so closely with Mr. Weasley. When she passed, she heard snippets of them discussing exploding alarm clocks in Cardiff.
As Hermione waited for the lift she briefly wondered if Harry and Ginny were also joining them for dinner after drinks. She couldn't recall exactly what Ron's owl had said since when it arrived she was already on her way out to a meeting concerning Hogwarts' requirement of Alchemy. To be honest, she couldn't even remember if she had replied. . . .
The thought quickly vanished as the lift shuddered and opened, letting out a dozen interdepartmental memos. After she readjusted her strap from dodging them she looked up to see her direct supervisor from the Department of Magical Education exit out of the lift.
"Miss Granger! Just the witch I wanted to talk to!"
"Mr. Basil!" Hermione said, smiling. "I actually wanted to speak with you as well concerning the Progress Report but I'm actually on my way out - "
"Never mind the report, Miss Granger, we won our case!" he said, grabbing Hermione and hugging her fiercely.
Doering Basil was a large man with an equally large mustache. He was well into his fifties and very passionate about progressing magical education in Britain. Rarely did he find someone as passionate as himself when it came to O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, but ever since Hermione had been hired the department has been receiving notable attention for its advancements in teaching. Currently they were working on a case mandating the requirement of Alchemy at Hogwarts.
"We did?" Hermione said excitedly, feeling as if she had just drank a Pepper-Up Potion. "Already? I thought you said the earliest we would know would be next week! This is wonderful news!"
"Yes, yes, Shacklebolt could hardly believe it either! It's been over four hundred years since its requirement! Come along, I'll tell you all about it back at my office over a drink."
He began walking down the corridor, not realizing that Hermione wasn't following.
"Actually, Mr. Basil," Hermione began, thinking about how Ron, Harry and Ginny were currently awaiting her arrival, and how she couldn't be late again, but when Doering Basil turned to look at her, face bright and smile wide, she couldn't help but smile back. This referendum was the culmination of a year's worth of hard work. They both knew what a milestone this was for their department. Surely Ron, Harry and Ginny would understand that.
"I'd love to."
When Mr. Basil turned his back, Hermione quickly sent her Patronus off to her friends to let them know she would be late.
"Finally!" exclaimed Ginny, throwing her hands in the air.
"I'm so sorry!"
Hermione had only just entered the Three Broomsticks a little after nine that evening. Her cheeks were flushed red from the frigid winter wind and pieces of her hair had been blown out of her tight bun. She half-hugged Ron from his spot on his barstool and removed her coat, laying it on the back of her own.
The Three Broomsticks was very crowded. It was a few weeks into the new year and Hermione had to search for several minutes before locating her friends in the very back corner. She had squeezed her way through the hoards of people, twice getting drinks spilled on her. She had spelled them gone before she arrived at the table.
"What took so long?" asked Harry, looking a little irritated. Hermione noted Ron hadn't said anything yet.
Hermione laughed in joy. "Wonderful news! The legislation we proposed today concerning the requirement of Alchemy was passed!"
"Alchemy?" Ron finally spoke, sounding bitter. "What's the point of Alchemy when there's Potions?"
Harry and Ginny both looked pointedly at Ron, but neither said anything. Instead, Harry quickly left to order another round of drinks at the bar.
"The point? Ron, I've only talked about this referendum for the past year!"
"Yeah, well, I never thought I'd see the day when it would pass. Hogwarts requiring Alchemy? There's never any demand for it."
Hermione's cheeks had grown warm from anger and frustration. She knew Ron was only trying to pick a fight because he was upset she was late. But Ron should know that this piece of legislation was important to her and it was upsetting that Ron was ignoring that.
"Listen, Ron, Ginny," she said to the two siblings at the table. "I'm sorry I was late. But this is a big deal for our department. I know you both probably think Alchemy is a moot subject, but just imagine how the teachings of transmutation could directly impact Healer practices. If Alchemy was such a pointless subject, I doubt Nicholas Flamel would be as famous today -"
"What did I miss?" Harry interrupted, returning from the bar with drinks in his hand and sloshing one in front of each of them.
"You just interrupted Hermione's rant on the advantages of teaching Alchemy, so thanks," Ginny said, taking a drink of her Quentin Black. Hermione tried to repress a smile. She sometimes needed to know when to shut up. Ginny was always great for the reminder.
"Ha, Ha, Ha." Hermione also picked up her Quentin Black and took a sip. "What time should we head over to Fizban Warlocks?"
It suddenly went quiet at the table.
"We're not." Ron said, finally. "Our reservations were at eight."
The guilt that Hermione had not been allowing herself to feel before now came in full force. She suddenly recalled that in his owl it informed her of their reservation. She looked over to Ron apologetically.
"Shall I get us some menus from the bar?" asked Harry, not waiting for an answer and heading off once again. Ginny leap from her seat to follow suit and Ron and Hermione were suddenly alone.
"Stop," Ron said as Hermione opened her mouth. "Lets just forget about it, okay? It's fine, I'll book another reservation."
Ron then took another large swig of his mead and reluctantly looked over at her. She gave him a small smile and hoped she looked grateful because she knew she was being let off easily. The couple was silent for a few minutes. Hermione felt guiltier by the second.
"How was the game?" she asked, hoping to cheer him up.
Ron worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports, but he was hardly ever in the Ministry. His office was primarily the Quidditch pitches across Britain as he was the official commentator for the British and Irish Quidditch League. Today was the final game before mid-season break between Montrose Magpies and the Kenmare Kestrels.
"Magpies won 320 – 190. The Kestrels nearly won but Alfie Jorgensen completely flew into the goal post chasing after the snitch."
Hermione gasped. "Is he alright?"
"Broke both legs and neck. He's at St. Mungo's."
Just then both Harry and Ginny returned with the menus and another round of drinks. Hermione promptly finished half of her drink and thanked Ginny when she handed her another along with the menu. The candle flickered in the centerpiece as they all looked at the menus and Ron laid a hand on her knee underneath the table.
"What took you so long?" Ron asked Harry.
"Saw Malfoy at the bar," Harry said, looking up from his menu to answer before looking back down. "Felt like bothering him a bit."
Hermione and Ginny both rolled their eyes. At the age of twenty-five you would think Harry and Malfoy would learn to get along better, but they still fought and bickered just as much as they had when they were teenagers. The only difference was that she knew Harry and Malfoy were friendlier to one another now than they let on.
"Saw Seamus, too." Ginny said. "Was a bit miffed about the Kestrels, he's up there drinking himself into a coma." The Irish man was a junior Ludo Bagman, often gambling a bit too much on matches. "By the way, Ron, Charlie's birthday is next week. He'll be thirty-three."
After several hours of drinking and discussing work, politics, and gossip they finally ordered their meal. If anything, the Three Broomsticks was even more crowded than before. Draco Malfoy had even come over to congratulate Hermione on her department's proposal. Shocking as his congratulations was, she knew it was genuine since it was only the two of them that had signed up for the class in their sixth-year but were unable to do it due to insufficient demand for it. Although she still disliked him, Hermione could always approve of his appreciation for magic and knowledge. And she couldn't help but be a little bit grateful because after he left Ron's anger toward her was now directed at Malfoy.
Not too long later, outside the Three Broomsticks, the two couples parted ways for home. Ginny had a few too many drinks and couldn't keep herself from slipping off the barstool. Harry had to carry her back to their flat. Luckily, they lived in Hogsmeade and it wasn't too far of a walk. On the other hand, Ron and Hermione lived in Chelsea and seeing as neither one of them felt comfortable enough to Dissaparate they decided to take Muggle transportation back.
It was far too late in the night for the tubes to be running so instead they had to take the bus to Sloane Square. For the entire ride to their destination Hermione had to endure Ron's speech about how famous they all were. She realized that Ron was not as sober as she previously thought.
"Can you believe that we're still getting people coming up to us seven years after the war?" he said, laughing loudly. Hermione rolled her eyes.
It wasn't the first time they had admirers and onlookers all night. But it was this particular outing that strangers had more than enough excuses to bother the two couples and ask for autographs and stories about the war. Tonight there were a group of five wizards particularly keen on hearing Ron and Ginny's stories about the night the war ended. Ginny was proudly telling them that it was her mother who killed Bellatrix Lestrange and Ron, just as proudly, told them how weak and pathetic of a Death Eater she was.
"Yes, I can believe it. But Ron, you really need to stop discussing in such detail the events of the night the war ended. There are still Death Eaters out there. It's not common knowledge that Mrs. Weasley killed Bellatrix. We don't watch to gather any more attention on ourselves." It was Ron's turn to roll his eyes.
As the bus came to a stop at Sloane Square they got off with an unusual amount of people for that time of night. Hermione had to reluctantly keep her mouth shut now that Ron was purposefully going off about 'scumbag Death Eaters' and how he dares them to 'get revenge' for him talking about Bellatrix's death. She had stopped listening after a few blocks knowing she had to wisely pick and choose her battles. And even though she truly believed that Ron and Ginny shouldn't have discussed that particular event in public, she too completely agreed with every word he said.
Saturday morning sunshine had crept through in the early morning hours, awakening Hermione naturally. She squinted and blinked a few times, noting Ron in bed next to her.
It was 6:00am. They had only arrived back to their flat a few hours previously and even though Hermione had a massive headache and was bone tired, she got up anyway.
She had left a note for Ron letting him know she would be at the office and would be home midday. She really wanted to get into work to reread her proposal and begin research on a possible teaching candidate. As she spell-locked the door on her way out, she realized that the night before she hadn't produced a Glamour Charm for either one of them and cursed herself madly. How could she be so stupid? They had enemies! Enemies that would often attempt to send her cursed objects, poisoned food and drinks at her office. They could have followed her and Ron home last night. She would have to closely watch all her owl post now.
"Dammit," she whispered, berating herself again.
Hermione was rightly paranoid. She had created a strict routine of getting to and from work. And since they lived in a Muggle neighborhood, large amounts of magic (such as Disapparation) were strictly prohibited and therefore she had to devise a way to arrive at work that made her nearly untraceable as Disapparation.
Hermione had usually left her flat with a Glamour already intact. She would then walk to grab a coffee just down the road and afterward head for an inconspicuous mew where she'd promptly use a Disillusionment Charm, remove her Glamour, and while still invisible, Disapparate to Whitehall as herself. She would then proceed to use the Muggle method to enter the Ministry.
Perhaps she was being a bit overly cautious but her safety was priority. She required Ron to do a similar practice only a bit simplified. She had even suggested the Fidelius Charm but Ron absolutely refused. He believed such a charm would create constant fear in their lives and told her that they didn't fight in a war for them to live in paranoia. So they settled on a compromise: If Hermione wasn't allowed to perform the Fidelius Charm then Ron wasn't allowed to travel to and from their flat in the traditional way by Floo. It had worked exceedingly well until last night and Hermione had never wished more than now that she still had a Time-Turner.
Once she arrived at the Ministry she noticed there were several interdepartmental memos awaiting her at her office door. She snatched them quickly and unlocked her door noticing several owls as well, one carrying her usual Daily Prophet.
They were all congratulatory letters from coworkers, peers and friends. She wondered how the news had spread so quickly and grabbed the Prophet. Unsurprisingly, on the front page was Hermione and Mr. Basil presenting their case at the summit meeting, with the title "Alchemy: A Hogwarts Core Classes Once Again." Hermione couldn't help but smile.
"Miss Granger, you're here! Wonderful, wonderful." It was Mr. Basil in the doorway with a cup of tea. "Kingsley requires a press conference on Monday to answer any public concerns." He rolled his eyes. "Bloody diplomats. What concerns could they have? If our department weren't in control of the education at Hogwarts they wouldn't know a Sickle from Knut." he said, chuckling.
Mr. Basil came to inform Hermione that he was going on a business trip to France and the two briefly exchanged words about the press conference and settled on their priorities for the upcoming week. Now that Alchemy was a subject again at Hogwarts, they needed to begin a search for a suitable teacher, assemble the curriculum and begin writing a new clause in the Progress Report of Magical Didactics.
"But I really must go, I have a meeting with the French Ministry in a few hours. See you next Monday, Miss Granger."
In the following few weeks Hermione had trouble getting much work done. Everyone she could possibly think of had stopped by to congratulate her on their department's victory. She even had dinner dates booked out for two weeks. And then with all the added attention of the media she hardly could step out of her office without making an official statement. It took her nearly a month to write the clause for the Progress Report when it should have taken a week. It had reached the point where Hermione had begun to ignore the knocks at her office door.
It was on the following Wednesday morning that Harry's Patronus galloped through her office warning her of its imminent explosion if she didn't answer her door. She ran to open it quickly, fearing for all the valuable research in her office.
Harry was smiling when she opened the door. He was dressed in his Auror uniform and was carrying two cups of tea, handing her one and walking pass her. Hermione shut the door and quickly muttered a Muffliato Charm.
"Hows it going?" he asked, settling into one of her office chairs. He pulled his ankle to his knee and began blowing on the hot liquid.
"Terribly," she whinged, collapsing into her chair. "I can't get any work done!"
Harry rolled his eyes.
"Perhaps you should celebrate your victory instead of working on the Progress Report of Some Educational blah blah blah. Enjoy the moment, Hermione."
She narrowed her eyes at Harry, trying to suppress a smile. Finally, Hermione conceded.
"How's work been?"
"Well, as you already know Augustus Rookwood has been on our radar for quite some time and has avoided capture three times by Apparation upon our arrival."
"Yes, how annoying. Do you think you might have a traitor in the department?"
"Don't think so. We have sent several Aurors out for him after each sighting and he always escapes. I even went after him myself."
Hermione knew how badly Harry wanted to catch Rookwood. He was one of the few Death Eaters still on the run that he hasn't sent to Azkaban. Others still on the loose were Rosier, the Averys and Rodolphus Lestrange.
"I see. What are your thoughts?"
"Well, the other night at the Three Broomsticks I was talking to Malfoy. I figured since he was a previous Death Eater he might have an idea into how Rookwood is fleeing so quickly." Hermione refrained from reminding Harry how flimsy of a Death Eater Malfoy turned out to be.
"And?" Hermione urged.
"He said Voldemort had many dark objects. One in particular being a Sneakoscope -"
"Sneakoscopes only detect when someone is doing something untrustworthy nearby, Aurors are hardly-"
"A modified Sneakoscope." Harry interrupted, impatiently.
"Modified?"
"Yes, er, Transfigured or such, I don't know."
"Transfiguration alters the form or appearance of an object, it can't enhance or change its inherent magical properties."
"However it was magically altered, I don't know, Hermione. The point is that Voldemort had in his possession a Sneakoscope that could detect when enemies of the one who carried the object were near."
"Okay, say I entertain this theory. How do you know you can trust anything Draco Malfoy says?"
"I can't. But any lead is better than no lead at this point."
"Okay," she said, slowly. "So what's your plan from here?"
"Malfoy is going to research the whereabouts of the Sneakoscope."
"And if his suspicions are correct?"
"I suppose we then start searching for a spell or object that can cancel out its detection."
"We?"
"Me and you, obviously. Gotta keep this one close to the chest." he said, smiling and winking at her.
"Of course." Hermione smiled.
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, drinking their tea and considering what they had just discussed. She really hoped he was sure about trusting Draco Malfoy. She knew Harry was desperate to catch Rookwood and she was sure Malfoy knew that as well. But then again, maybe Malfoy was just as desperate to help.
Hermione wasn't sure what Malfoy did for his job these days. She saw him occasionally at the Ministry but never often enough to be an employee. Harry had mentioned in passing that Malfoy was contracted to do research for the Department of Mysteries but she never bothered to ask for more details. Now she just hoped he could stay as quiet about the research he was doing for Harry as he did for the Department of Mysteries.
To be honest, seeing Malfoy the other night was the first time she thought of him. Not surprising, considering she was far too concerned with her work that she hardly ever gave much thought at all to Ron. This particular concession always had her feeling guilty. But then again, Ron never cared much about her work to ever ask her about it. She knew that when they began their relationship that she would have to compartmentalize her life. Ron just wasn't interested in what she was interested in. Therefore, when she was with Ron she didn't talk about work and when she was at work she didn't think about Ron.
It had hurt her feelings that he didn't even care how monumental it was for Alchemy to become a core class at Hogwarts. Maybe she would have been more excited for her dinner date if she knew he was be interested in listening to her. For Merlin's sake, even Malfoy congratulated her at the Three Broomsticks and told her it was a good step towards bettering the education at the school. Of all people, it was Malfoy who was happy for her! Well, maybe not happy but he seemed impressed. Maybe next time she achieved something at work she should ask Malfoy out to dinner.
Merlin, she couldn't believe she just thought that. Hermione began to worry the inside of her cheek, unconsciously watching Harry, who was also deep in thought.
She supposed her feelings towards Malfoy were similar to how Harry had felt about Malfoy. They too were enemies at school, always opposing the other for the very purpose of doing so. But somewhere during the years, Harry stopped seeing Malfoy's history on the Dark Side as a weakness and began seeing it as a strength to the Light Side.
Perhaps a similar foundation was being set for a relationship between her and Malfoy. She supposed that when Malfoy had congratulated her it had felt like a true success since he was always opposed to any of her successes during school. But then again, Hermione wouldn't consider what she and Malfoy had to bear any semblance to friendship. They were merely. . . associates. It was different to what he and Harry had. Because while she had Malfoy's approval, Harry had Malfoy's assistance. Did that mean Harry and Malfoy were friends? Or were they merely work associates? Hermione had to know.
"What sort of relationship do you and Malfoy have?"
The question startled Harry from his thoughts. "A platonic one?"
Hermione huffed, impatiently. "I'm not asking if he's gay, Harry. I just wanted to know if you two were friends."
Judging by the look Harry gave her she would guess that he never actually considered it.
"Er. . . I don't know. We talk if we see one another, send the occasional owl. Um, if Ginny ever decides to throw a party I suppose I'd send him an invite. I'm sure he wouldn't come though, so maybe I wouldn't, I don't know. Why?"
"I..." Hermione began, unsure if she should let him know how much Malfoy's approval meant to her. Not just Malfoy's approval, any approval, really. She wasn't sure if she wanted Harry to know that she needed to hear words of affirmation to feel appreciated. She was just far too proud to admit that. "I suppose I was a bit surprised when he congratulated me the other night, is all."
True to form, Harry didn't know the right thing to say. "Er, right. Well, we were all a bit sloshed that night, right?"
Indeed. So much so that Hermione forgot to use a Glamour. She worried the inside of her cheek again and then started on her lip, deciding whether or not to tell Harry of her recent suspicions. She honestly felt that the war had made her incredibly paranoid. Alastor Moody would be proud but Hermione felt a bit mental at times. She reminded herself that Harry was an Auror, that this sort of thing was his job. Above all others, Harry would be able to decide if she were going mad or not. She nodded, coming to a decision.
"Harry, I think I'm being followed."
Her confession startled Harry into dropping his tea cup but Hermione had it repaired before he could even utter a curse. His mouth hung agape instead.
"What do you mean?"
She told him about the incident that occurred a few weeks previous.
"I was walking home the other week and someone accidentally knocked into me. And now that I've thought on it I don't believe it was an accident at all. Anyway, I was knocked over and some of my work fell out of my bag. I was quickly picking it up and the man who bumped into me was helping. He saw my name on the work, Harry."
"So what? You were in Chelsea. It's all Muggles there."
"He wasn't a Muggle, Harry. It was one of the men from the Three Broomsticks. The wizard Ron and Ginny were bragging to about killing Bellatrix."
"Okay, that's a bit strange. What did he say?"
"Well, he pretty quickly deducted that I was under a Glamour and asked if he could walk with me the rest of the way home. Of course I immediately told him that I was actually heading to a shop nearby. Then he admitted that he was on the same train as us the night we left the Three Broomsticks. He said he lived just up the road from us but didn't want to bother us again on the train. He made me feel very uneasy, Harry. You know I wouldn't bother you with outlandish theories unless I was sure something strange was going on."
"I know, Hermione, but maybe he's just another fan. Have you seen him since?"
"Yes. He's owled me several times and now I see him hanging around my neighborhood."
"Maybe he's always been there and you're now just noticing him. He said he does live there. He's probably just another obsessed wizard living out his fantasy -"
"He doesn't want to date me, Harry. Every owl he has sent me mentions Ron. He wants Ron and me to go out for drinks, Ron and me to go out to dinner. I don't have a good feeling about this Harry. This man isn't interested in me, he's interested in Ron."
"What's his name?"
"Donovan English."
"Donovan English, Donovan English . . ."
Hermione could tell he was going through all the criminal names he knew in his mind.
"Donovan English... doesn't ring a bell. Who is he?"
"It shouldn't ring a bell because there is no wizard named Donovan English who resides in England."
"Do you think he was under a Glamour himself? Maybe that's how he recognized you were under one too?"
Hermione hated to admit it but she could never tell if another witch or wizard was under a Glamour. She only shrugged and Harry asked for the letters. He was careful reading through them. Hermione noted how tired he looked and regretted asking for his help. He had enough to deal with at his office with Rookwood and all.
Harry handed her back the letters and adjusted his glasses. "What time are you leaving the office tonight?"
"I don't know. Six? Why?"
"I'll be back here at six then. I'm going to take you home. I want to see this for myself."
When Harry arrived a few minutes late to her office Hermione realized she was running twenty minutes late herself. But unlike Ron, Harry had a little bit of patience and sat in the same spot he did a few hours previous, drinking tea once again.
"I talked to Malfoy about what you told me." he said watching Hermione pack up her bag. Her mouth dropped open in indignation. "Don't worry, I didn't tell him the details. I only asked him if he knew of an alias by the name of Donovan English." She looked at him expectantly but Harry only shook his head, apologetically.
As she grabbed her coat to leave, Harry opened the door for her and let her pass.
"Oh, but he did tell me to tell you to 'stay safe.'"
Hermione swatted him with her bag.
Apparently Malfoy had wanted to accompany her home as well. Harry told her this after she yelled at him about letting him in the know. She had no idea why Harry would think that by telling her this she would be any less angry at him.
"Well, I stopped him from coming along, didn't I?"
Hermione prayed she wasn't still blushing. The minute Harry had said Malfoy wanted to come along her stomach plummeted. She didn't know why the mention of Malfoy made her feel nervous. Perhaps it was because it sounded like he was concerned? No, Hermione knew Malfoy didn't care about her. But then why did he tell Harry to tell her to 'stay safe?' Was he just teasing her? Did he and Harry both think she was a little too paranoid and this situation was a bit ludicrous?
"Why did he want to come?"
"He thinks he'd be able to tell if Donovan was a dark wizard better than me -"
"He probably could." Hermione interrupted, feeling a bit embarrassed and upset with Harry about the whole situation.
She honestly had no idea if Malfoy could tell a dark wizard more easily than Harry. She knew Harry was amazing at his job but she didn't know enough about Malfoy's talents to compare the two. Although she could see the benefits of having Malfoy with them that didn't mean she wanted him there. It would just offer a new perspective.
"Oh really? Well let me just send him my Patronus right now letting him know you've change of mind."
Hermione yanked down his wand arm.
"Please. We need to be serious. No more joking around."
They Disapparated just outside of Sloane Square tube station with Glamours intact. Harry had chosen to take on the likeness of Dudley and Hermione used her typical Glamour. Harry had wanted to remain himself because he said he felt that if Donovan was any sort of real threat, seeing that Harry was around would be intimidating.
"Harry, he already knows we're friends. He's not going to be any more intimidated by you being around." Harry was about to send for Malfoy again, assuming if Harry own intimidation wouldn't work than surely Malfoy's would, but stopped at the sound of Hermione's name being called.
Hermione's stomach dropped again, but this time in a very different way. Her skin tingled and her heart raced. Fear was pumping through her blood. She looked to Harry for his reaction but his face was masked in disappointment. Hermione quickly turned to direction the voice came from.
It was only Seamus. Hermione wanted to cry in frustration. She felt like such a fool.
Despite Hermione's protests, Harry insisted on walking her home the entire week even though there were never any signs of Donovan. Harry had even changed his Glamour and walked behind her a bit but no one ever stopped her. No one ever bumped into her, no one even looked at her. Hermione truly felt like she was losing her mind. When Malfoy sent her a get well card Hermione decided to chalk it all up to anxiety and fear.
It was really hard to accept that it was all in her mind, though. Had Donovan really just been an obsessed fan of hers who finally got the hint that she wasn't interested after she never responded to his owls? Did it have to happen the exact moment she decided to ask Harry for help in judging this matter? What would happen if she owled him back? Obviously, that would be silly, but at this point she needed to know that he existed. She needed to know that it wasn't all in her head. It felt as if the tables had turned and Hermione had become the obsessed one.
By the end of the week Hermione had put in a request for a week's holiday. She honestly needed one, too. She could hardly concentrate on work. The constant knocks on her office door, invitations to events, requests for interviews. . . it was all a bit much.
And really, Hermione was glad for a holiday. Not only was she getting a break from the office, she was getting a break from the city. She had plans to leave that Friday after work and spend the following week with Ron in Holyhead watching him commentate the games. And frankly, at this point, nothing sounded better.
When Hermione returned to London she felt like a new person. Her and Ron's week in Wales was wonderful. She hardly brought any work with her with the exception of a few advanced textbooks on Alchemy. And although her holiday helped her manage her stress and reorganize her priorities it hadn't managed to make her completely forget about Donovan. Obtuse as Ron could be, she had to ask in a fairly straightforward way if Ron had received any unusual mail. When he told her that nothing came to mind, Hermione died a little inside. She had to convince herself that it was a good thing that nothing came of this incident. Hermione's pride and ego would just have to withstand this blow.
The next few weeks went by quickly and it was suddenly March. At the office she managed to get a lot of work done now that the media frenzy had died down a bit. She and Mr. Basil had finally finished the clause for the Progress Report of Magical Didactics and they were now on the hunt for teachers. They had two interviews set up for the following week. One was a relative to Libatius Borage, a famous Potioneer who wrote Advanced Potion-Making; the textbook used at Hogwarts for N.E.W.T. level classes. She could hardly wait to meet him.
Meanwhile, Harry and his team were still working on locating Rookwood and Malfoy was 'unofficially' on the case now. While Malfoy was doing research on the whereabouts of the Sneakoscope, he and Harry also teamed up in attempt to recreate the altered Sneakoscope. So whenever she did see Harry in the Ministry corridors it was usually with Malfoy. While she and Harry would exchange greetings, she and Malfoy usually only glanced at each other. It was a shame but neither her nor Harry had much time to schedule a time to meet up and talk. Harry was under serious pressure to capture Rookwood and Hermione had less than five months to find an Alchemist and create a curriculum.
Ron was also very busy. The Quidditch World Cup was this year and his department was busy securing their official sponsors and its location in Cardiff. The biggest surprise of all was when he was offered the position as the official commentator of the World Championship. Ron could hardly shut up about it for a week. He celebrated for almost as long. His acceptance had him traveling a lot more and he and Hermione hadn't seen each other at all the past two weeks, but he owled her at the office that evening letting her know he was home and had made reservations at Fizban Warlocks for nine that night. She smiled and promised that she would not be late again.
When she did leave the office that evening the temperature was cool. It was just getting dark as she began her usual route home, Flooing out of the Ministry to Sloane Square in full Glamour and walking the rest of the way. She was only a couple of buildings from her flat when she spotted him across the street.
It was Donovan. And he was with the four other wizards who were at the Three Broomsticks. Wehn they noticed her, everyone stopped like a broken clock.
Panic completely engulfed her. Her stomach dropped so fast she felt nauseous, light-headed, and shaky all at once. For a moment, they looked at each other from across the street before Hermione took off at a sprint for her flat. She needed to warn Ron. They needed to run. And from the corner of her eye, she saw them chasing after her.
She knew she shouldn't perform excessive amounts of magic near her flat but at this moment she didn't care. She Disapparated to the fifth landing and ran to her door, screaming Ron's name out loud. She was utterly scared. She hadn't realized it until she watched her shaking hand attempt to undo the magical locks.
She could feel the presence of Dark magic near her and when she finally managed the locks on the door she saw one of them Apparate not too far down the corridor. "Fifth Floor!" He yelled to the others.
Hermione slammed the door shut behind her, redoing as many locks as she could. Ron had just run into the room, looking worried. "What's going on?"
She heard the crack of Apparation outside their landing and continued with spells. Why were they here? Why now? What did they want?
"Hermione! What's going on?"
She knew she didn't have enough time to complete her spells when she heard footfalls just outside their door. She performed a Disillusionment Charm on Ron and not one moment later the door blasted open. Suddenly, spells were ricocheting everywhere and a vase near Hermione's head exploded. It had nearly concealed the sound of Ron's body thudding to the ground.
He was hit.
But at least he was invisible.
She took off down the hall and up the stairs, thanking Merlin for magical expansions because at least she had a place to run. As she cleared the second landing she half-turned and yelled, "Confringo!" at the stairs and didn't wait to watch them explode.
She ran into her office, sealing the door shut with the strongest spell she knew. It wouldn't buy her any time but she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. What happened to Ron? What was she going to do? Hands in her hair, Hermione let out a sob. She wanted to Disapparate far away but she couldn't leave him downstairs. A crack of Apparation coming from the third floor above startled her into action.
She crossed to the only window in the room and threw it open with shaking hands. She would have to jump out, there was no other option. She was surrounded from above and below and now they were at the office door tearing down her spell.
She had her first leg out the window when the door gave in. She glanced at the door in fear before tossing up a Shield Charm as quickly as she could. Only that protecting herself from spells didn't matter because they were running at her. Screaming, she released the charm and tried to crawl the rest of the way out of the window but one of them suddenly had a hold on her leg. She kicked him furiously to free herself but the other three in the room began to help.
Pointing her wand at them she yelled, "Immobulus!" and nearly fell out the window when the spell rendered them immobile. She was sweating at her forehead and panting loudly. She had to fight the urge to run and escape but the image of Ron downstairs, invisible and injured, had her crawling back inside. She needed to take a good look at them to make sure she could report them to the Aurors. But then it struck her that they too, like her, were probably using the Glamour Charm. Cursing out loud and thinking quickly, she grabbed each of their wands from the ground. She knew that unless they stole the wands, Ollivander would be able to identify them.
She had not enough time to consider what to do next when Donovan appeared at the door. Shocked, she realized that there were five men on the street and only four on the ground in front of her. When she looked at him, he had his wand trained on her, but she had the advantage of five.
"What a clever girl you are, Hermione. I'm sure that without you Potter and Weasley would never have survived the war."
She was slowly backing toward the window. "Who are you?"
"Just another wizard seeking revenge."
"And what did you want with me?"
He laughed, manically. "Oh, nothing, my dear! You were just in the way. I applaud you for keeping Ron nice and safe for a while but your slip up at the Three Broomsticks foiled your plan. I finally got to follow you home. And then I finally got to kill Ron Weas-!"
Hermione screamed in anger. "Expelliarmus!"
Not only was the man propelled back through the door he was standing in front of but Hermione's feet were also lifted as she felt the spell hit her as well. Dammit. She hadn't paid any attention to which direction the four wands she had stolen were pointing.
She hit the glass window, shattering it and falling out, her hands reaching out to find nothing but air as she descended to the street.
"Arresto Momentum!"
The spell had worked. Her speed slowed but she still hit the ground hard. When she scrambled to her feet she saw Donovan at the window, watching her, his face contorted into rage.
She took off running with a severe limp. She had landed awkwardly on her hip and the pain was so excruciating she was stumbling and crying out at every step. She heard the yells of Donovan and his revived men in the distance as she staggered down an alley, biting her lip from making noise.
The alley was filled with smoke, dumpsters, rats, and rubbish. She was shaking so badly now her leg gave out and she fell before crawling to the brick wall to rest.
She had no idea what she was going to do. If she ran they would come after her. She had their wands, she knew their crimes, and she would probably be dead if she went back. But she couldn't just leave Ron there, whether dead or alive. She couldn't take Donovan's word for it.
She needed to go back. But how?
Hermione pulled herself to her feet, testing the leg that gave on her. It was weak, it was shaking, but she would have to endure it.
She knew it was too risky going back. They were surely watching the place and she had too much information now. She needed to make sure that if she was killed, the information wouldn't die along with her.
She hobbled to a nearby building two down from the alley and hauled herself up to the third floor, knocking on a familiar door.
"Hermione! You're bleeding! What happened?"
Hermione was ushered in and collapsed on the nearest kitchen chair as the woman ran into another room and came back with a first-aid kit. She had no idea there was a cut above her forehead that was bleeding profusely.
"Dorthy, Ron and I were attacked." Hermione said, wiping the blood from her forehead with shaking hands. Dorthy didn't say anything, instead choosing to rub a damp cloth across Hermione's face. Dorthy's hand was shaking too, but only from age.
Dorthy was a Muggle. An elderly Muggle Hermione would often help carry groceries in from the boot of her car. She was a sweet woman, a woman Hermione had grown to trust enough to tell her about her life in the wizarding world.
She swatted Dorthy's hand away, impatiently. "I need your help."
"Hermione, what could someone like me do?"
"I need you to be my Secret-Keeper."
There was a moment of silence.
Dorthy knew what a Secret-Keeper was. Hermione had told her about Grimmauld Place and Godric's Hollow. She told her how she had wanted to perform the magic on her own house for protection.
"Hermione, I need assistance around the house. I can't let it become invisible to everyone."
"It won't be your house. I'll perform the magic on an object. Only you will be able to know of its location."
Hermione had no idea if something like this would even work but she had no other option coming to mind. Dorthy didn't say anything, but Hermione knew she would agree.
She conjured several vials with her wand as Dorthy watched on. Hermione began extracting her memories of the nights events. Faces, wands, spells used. . . if she didn't lose her life tonight, she would surely lose these memories and she needed Harry and the Aurors to know what happened. Thinking quickly, she sent off her Patronus, letting him know she and Ron were attacked.
Once she was satisfied with the quality of memories she left in the vials she conjured a small box to put them in along with the four wands. When she was done she looked up at Dorthy.
"Will this even work?"
Hermione didn't want to tell her how unsure she felt about it. Instead, she opted for instructions.
"Make sure you tell someone very close about this box. Be careful about what you tell them. Do not expose the wizarding world. Tell them only that this box must be delivered to Harry Potter. If I die, these memories will ensure the crimes I witnessed tonight will not go unnoticed. And if you die and not pass along this box, my secret will die with you."
Dorthy nodded, trembling. "Where do I keep it?"
"Anywhere. The box will be undetectable to those not aware of it. They could search your entire house and never find it, even if they are looking straight at it."
Suddenly the house shook and there was the sound of a large explosion.
"We don't have time." Hermione said, quickly.
She had never performed the Fidelius Charm although she had studied it in theory rather intensely. Of all the successful Fidelius Charms she had heard of, none had ever been performed on an object. Hermione ignored this fact, she could not afford to think about the failure of this charm. It needed to work.
It was an immensely complicated spell and Hermione did not have time for mistakes nor time to dwell on details. The spell included an incantation said by both parties along with vows on both ends. As Hermione waved her wand in a complex pattern and muttered the incantation with her eyes closed, she could feel the power of her magic around her. When she opened her eyes she looked for the box and then to Dorthy.
"Did you move the box?"
"No, its -"
"Don't tell me! If you die and I know about it I can divulge its secret!"
"Oh! Okay, um. No. I. . . I believe the magic worked."
Hermione's pride soared and she smiled widely. She felt the dried blood at the corner of her mouth stretch and crack. It reminded her of the danger she and Ron were in. Suddenly, she was not so proud. She should have forced Ron to allow her to do the very magic she just performed.
"I have to go. Thank you for doing this."
Hermione kissed Dorthy on the cheek and headed for the door.
"Be careful, dear. Please come back for this box."
Hermione turned before she closed the door. "If you don't hear from me in the next month, tell someone about the box."
As Hermione descended the stairs as fast as her leg allowed her she realized a major flaw in her plan. Yes, she safely secured the box with the Fidelius Charm but what if she was forced under Veriterseum to reveal what she had done to hide her memories? What if she told them about Dorthy?
Once outside Hermione ducked into an alley to think. She couldn't put Dorthy's life at risk even more than it was at now. If Hermione exposed their plan they could simply kill Dorthy and her and be done! The secret would die with them.
She knew what she had to do. But, dear Merlin, she was so very reluctant to do it. How else was she going to forget that she ever performed the Fidelius Charm other than performing a Memory Charm on herself?
It was dangerous. Merlin, it was so dangerous. But did she have any other choice?
"Dammit, dammit!" She had no other choice.
Hermione nearly sobbed out loud in anguish and fear. She didn't have time to consider the outcome of the spell. She just wished she had a moment to consult a book. But she knew she wasn't in Hogwarts anymore, and that this was as real as the War. Before she had time to reconsider or back down, she focused on Dorthy, Ron and bringing these wannabe Death Eaters to justice before pointing the wand at herself and muttering, "Obliviate."
Hermione woke feeling disoriented. She had opened her eyes and realized she was crouched in an alleyway. There were sirens coming from all directions and Hermione could hear screaming. Blinking rapidly, she realized she must have been hit with a spell that had knocked her stood on her feet with quite a bit of difficulty. She needed to find a way back to her flat to help Ron.
When she left the alley she realized where all the commotion was coming from; her building was on fire. Hermione's cried out in horror, stomach in so many knots she suddenly felt nauseous. What if Ron was still unconscious on the floor in their living room? She began to limp towards her building but a voice stopped her.
"Don't worry," the voice said, and she spun around. It was Donovan. He must have been the one to hit her.. "Don't worry about Ron. He didn't die in the fire. In fact, he might not have died at all if I hadn't tripped over his Disillusioned body."
Hermione's refused to believe it, but her face was pinched in grief still. The pain of Ron's death almost felt physical.
"So is the vengeful criminal going to reveal himself? Or should we always be in the dark on who killed Ron Weasley?"
"I'm not stupid, you silly girl. My name may not make the front page of the Prophet but it will be known by those who matter. Now. Where did you disappear to? Ran off to tell Potter and his Aurors? He's here, you know. But no matter, we planned the explosion to look as if it was caused by Muggles."
"Seeing as you sound like a pure-blood maniac I doubt you'll convince anyone -"
"Legilimens."
Thoughts, emotions, memories of the day were rushing past her like a speeding train. He was delving through them so rapidly she didn't have a chance to fight the invasion. Her skull felt unbearably tight and she stumbled into the alley wall behind her.
Work. . . having dinner with Ron at Fizban Warlocks . . . seeing the five men on the street. . . a Disillusionment Charm . . . four wands. . . and then waking up in an alley. Then the memories began to repeat themselves.
He was looking for something. But Hermione didn't know what. She had no idea how long he was inside her head but when he pulled out she was gulping in air.
"I see you performed a Memory Charm on yourself, how clever. But you know they can be broken through torture. I believe it was Lord Voldemort who broke the memory charm on Bertha Jorkins? She was mentally handicapped afterward. Shall I try?"
Hermione performed a Memory Charm? Merlin, she tried to remember but couldn't. The attempt made her head hurt worse. It felt as if there were a herd of animals inside it. Despite the pain, she laughed bitterly at his threat. If this man could break a Memory Charm through torture he wouldn't need to be a follower of Voldemort's. "Good luck."
Hermione was once tortured by Bellatrix and managed to live through it. Even if she didn't live through it this time, Harry would know the truth about what happened to her and Ron. It was that thought that gave her strength.
Donovan's face turned ugly. "I think I just changed my mind, Granger. I've thought of a rather better suited punishment for you. Legilimens."
Suddenly he wasn't digging through her memories but implanting them. She was witnessing memories that never occurred. Memories of her house being robbed by Muggles, Ron attempting to fight them off and Hermione running to get help. Then there was a memory of Ron being shot with a Muggle weapon and Hermione being knocked unconscious in this very alleyway.
She was so weak. It felt like the herd of animals were now feasting on her brain. After a long while of extracting any leftover memories she hadn't erased herself and implanting new ones, Donovan finally released the spell. She could hardly move, hardly lift up her wand. She was so dizzy that she almost slipped down to the ground. But she had to escape. She had to find Ron and help him. She had to tell Harry whatever she had left to tell. And so she ran, as fast as her leg allowed her out of the alley, hearing her rattled breath and Donovan laugh as she struggled to escape.
She wasn't very far away when she heard him yell, "Imperio."