Title: The Blood On Our Hands
Summary: When the Head of the Department of Mysteries disappears, Harry Potter is bent on bringing her back. Meanwhile, Hermione Granger adds fuel to the fire only to unravel a cold-blooded conspiracy that makes an attempt on her life.
A/N: I was extremely disappointed with things ended in the Deathly Hallows. This is me attempting to write a different ending. :3 I managed to recover this account, and was under the pen name Pureblood Society when publishing this story.
Dedications: To RageRunsStill and Princess Self-Respectra—because Rage is an overall great person and even though she doesn't respond to my PMs, I love this girl because of her general awesomeness. To Selena, for being a loyal Beta Reader.
The ∙ Blood ∙ On ∙ Our ∙ Hands
For centuries, the world has heard the oppressed, the downtrodden and the vulnerable cry out for their freedoms, for their rights and for a chance to emerge from the shadows of the tyranny and bloodshed that they had lived with.
—Ginny Brown Waite
Of all the obnoxious things Rita Skeeter had ever done to ruin her good image, this had to be the absolute worst.
It started when people began whispering when she entered through one of the Ministry fireplaces. She didn't want to think about all the horrible things they were talking about. She was much better than that. Her day became stranger when Romilda Vane made a comment about her love life (or lack thereof) and from there Hermione thought it was a good idea to pick up the Daily Prophet.
She was Hermione Granger, the best friend of the saviour of the Wizarding World, and had the highest NEWT scores Hogwarts has seen in a century, and all it took was one stupid article to destroy what people thought of her? It was sickening how people put their faith in the Daily Prophet. If this was the Muggle World, she would sue the Daily Prophet for defamation of her character.
"You read the Daily Prophet this morning, didn't you?" Millicent Bulstrode walked into her office, her immaculate Ministry robe billowing from behind.
Hermione cracked a smile. Their friendship would and always be condemned in the eyes of the Wizarding World, but that fact alone strengthened it from day one — they had different upbringings, came from different families that had different cultural views of life. What mattered to them was that they shared the same principles and the same ambitions.
"I'm surprised with how much publicity the stupid article received. Didn't she print something identical to it in Fourth Year?" Millicent rolled her eyes. "Not only is Rita Skeeter a venomous cow, but she's going completely senile. Ha, that would make a good headline for the afternoon Daily Prophet."
And that's when inspiration struck.
"What do you mean she disappeared?"
Susan Bones flinched at the harsh tone. She knew that Harry had a close but platonic relationship with the Head of the Department of Mysteries — one of the youngest people to be appointed to Head to a Ministry division for two hundred years. Considering his past, it seemed like a cruel joke.
"We're not quite sure what happened, but we managed to procure some evidence at the crime of the scene. See for yourself, Potter."
Harry already knew what it was. It was her journal — it was still in mint condition (Preservation Charm?) and its trademark bejeweled cover and the cultural depictions of a raven drawn on the back brought back fond memories. It was hard to find something nondescript about the journal.
He could feel the item pulsing in his hands. She once told him about the layers upon layers of enchantments that protected it from being viewed by anyone else. Perhaps, the journal could lead him straight towards her . . . ?
It was wishful thinking. "When was she last seen?" Harry asked.
"Eye witnesses claim that she entered Hog's Head with a wiry bloke with spectacles," Susan Bones frowned slightly. "They all wondered why the saviour of the Wizarding World would deign to visit a dingy bar, of all the places."
"Funny how the last time I went to Hog's Head, it was during the War," he replied. He had a rogue Dark Wizard posing as him through the Polyjuice Potion.
A blonde-haired bloke sauntered into Hog's Head, clad in the standard Auror uniform and gave him his trademark smirk. "Potter, I thought we were partners. Weren't you going to tell me that you had an evil twin?"
"I don't have an evil twin," Harry said peevishly.
"He doesn't have an evil twin, Malfoy. Someone Polyjuiced as Potter and lured the Head into the bar and kidnapped our victim under everybody's noses," Susan interjected, a note of exasperation evident in her tone.
"That's a logical way of putting it, Bones. What's that you're holding, Potter?"
"It's her diary. I think it might lead us to her."
"You're telling me her diary is disguised as a Tracking Charm?" Malfoy questioned. When Malfoy first enrolled into the Auror program, the Head Auror Gawain Robards assigned him to Harry — mainly because his previous partner, Ron Weasley, sustained an injury that nearly handicapped him for a good part of the year. It was hell working with Malfoy, but at least they were an efficient team once they put aside their inconsequential rivalries. It put a strain on Harry's friendship with Ron — who was still disgruntled about being paired with Zacharias Smith, who was known for being a tosspot in their schooldays.
"Can't believe someone accurately impersonated you through the Polyjuice Potion," Malfoy sniggered. "The potion is tricky to make, and the fact that they sufficiently covered their tracks mean only a handful of people are quite capable of pulling an elaborate kidnapping without getting caught."
"You mean the Death Eaters are up to their old tricks again," Susan said peevishly. The contemptuous expression was to be expected, seeing that she lost her entire family to dastardly Death Eaters. "What do they want with her?"
"The Department of Mysteries contains all of the Ministry's guarded secrets. She's the Head of the freaking department, for crying out loud!" Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Couldn't it be more obvious?"
"The most important thing is to bring her back safe and in one piece, of course," Susan sounded determined. Harry never believed the shit about Hufflepuffs always doing the right honourable thing. They obviously never challenged Susan in the battlefield. Last month, she saved Malfoy's arse from an undesirable fate.
"Does that mean we could subject them to an arsenal of torture that would make my dear departed aunt Bella proud?"
Susan wrinkled her nose at the mention of the deceased Death Eater. "No," and she continued with a mischievous smile. "I was thinking of the Dementor's Kiss."
Evenly arranged blonde curls bounced elegantly as she sat down at the table. She clenched her fists as she poured out her heart to her boyfriend, Blaise Zabini. People automatically were under the impression that he was as cold and unsympathetic as the next Slytherin, because of his trademark stoic expression. She'd known him for almost twenty years and out of those two, long decades — Blaise was a great listener, and was usually the person she confided in.
"Can you believe the cow?" Pansy Parkinson stammered out. People often called her the Ice Queen of Hogwarts, because of her apparent closeness with Draco. It was a common misconception to mistaken them as couple — they grew up with a refined upbringing and the same pureblood ideologies taught to them when they were just mere children at the tender age of three.
"Love makes people do strange things," was Blaise Zabini's only comment.
Pansy barked out a mirthless laugh. It sounded high and cold. "If anything, I would call it a scandalous tryst that could end with disastrous results. Besides, who would fall in love with that old hag? My father is more at ease in his degrading Azkaban cell then at enjoy his luxurious life at the Parkinson Manor!"
"Okay, it's obvious no one is going to sway your opinion of your mother any time soon," Daphne said. She sounded bored. "My mother is hosting a gathering of sorts at the old mansion next week. She wants all of you to come."
"I'm going to Luxembourg this following week," Pansy replied and smirked at Blaise. "Too bad you can't come, Blaise. Remember what happened last time?"
The last time Blaise set foot in Luxembourger soil, he managed to anger the Minister himself because he was under the impression Blaise defiled his precious daughter and banned him from the country. "It wasn't my fault that wretched Christianne sought after me. Besides, the girl was barely seventeen."
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Luxembourg isn't the best place to visit. It's known for its rather lowly population of wizards and witches. I'd rather not go to a place outnumbered by Muggles and their ilk. It makes me feel Claus trophic."
Blaise gave her a hard look. "The word, Daphne, is claustrophobic. Shall I provide you with a definition as well? You're not the only one who's noticed that Draco has been picking up strange words from the people in his department."
Daphne harrumphed. "Whatever. Nobody told him to become an Auror. I'm telling you, his mother has him wrapped around her delicate finger."
"At least she doesn't mingle with other —" Pansy began ranting again. Simultaneously, Daphne and Blaise shot her a look of irritation.
"Where is Draco anyway? Theo I understand, because the poor boy has been overwhelmed with paperwork for the past few days. His department has been nursing a grudge against the Nott family for decades," Daphne prattled.
Pansy sighed. Everyone knew Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott were the golden couple of Hogwarts since Fourth Year. Nobody was surprised when they got married several months after the Battle of Hogwarts transpired. After all, Pansy was the one who gave them a nudge in the proper direction.
Review? :3 Kudos to the person who can accurately guess who the Head of the Department of Mysteries is.