Disclaimer: Not my world.

Chapter 3: Questionable Acquaintances

February 20th, 1979

A sickly sweet smell filled Hazel's apartment despite her window being open. She had set up her cauldron from school and had her "Advanced Potion Making" open on the floor. She had moonstone, ground porcupine quills and syrup of hellebore, as well as ground unicorn horn laid out in front of her.

Her concoction was the draught of peace potion. She hadn't been sleeping well lately. The smell of her potion however was giving her a headache and was threatening to make her go to sleep. She was only at the point of the second simmering to purple however and she had been working for the past couple of hours. She had a while to go yet.

There had been no word from James or the three bloody prats, the month having been very quiet since that day in January. She had heard from Regulus a couple of days ago. Noticeably, he hadn't written about anything that they had talked about when they last met, preferring to go on about Hogwarts and asking her how she was. Considering that was all he had been writing to her about for a while, she didn't know whether or not to be concerned.

Apparently he was worried about his exams already and professor Slughorn missed her (Hazel found it flattering). He told her about a book he had found in the restricted section that had a spirit trapped inside and whenever one opened it, it let out a loud, desperate cry for freedom. Kind of sad really. She did however find her news update on the lake's mermaids interesting though as well as satisfying.

When she had left, the mermaids were in the middle of a great civil war in order to determine who was to become queen of their lake's matriarchal society. The Slytherin common room had been a great viewing gallery for the drama and she and Reg had spent many days trying to decipher the Mermish language (which Regulus had actually suceeded at) in order to know what was going on. They had come to the conclusion just before they left Hogwarts that mermaids were not very good at stragedy, as they seemed to prefer open combat that likened to a cavalry charge. Guerilla style was a bit smarter for their circumstances in their opinion.

Apparently their bet had come to fruition and the mermaid with two scars, that looked like hooks, on her back had been crowned.

Hazel wrote back and told him everything, as she always did. She had told him about her encounter with Sirius and told him that Sirius wanted to know about him, but she had never really gotten a reply from him. This time, she asked him right out what he thought about it. Hazel knew he wouldn't avoid answering if she actually asked him straight out.

Hazel wrote a letter to Professor Slughorn as well (albeit a shorter one) after she had finished Regulus'. She hadn't spoken to him in a while anyway.

Hazel added the shaken porcupine needle grounds and stirred it seven times clockwise, seven times counter-clockwise before leaving it to simmer again. She looked up at her animal companions.

Her little bird, the black and white, sat comfortably in its little next, staring ahead as it did most of the time. Mitzy was lounging in the sun from the window. Fat and old and prissy that cat was.

"Oi! That smell is giving me a headache!" Hazel sighed when her neighbor, a wizard about her age who was tall, gangly, and annoying, butted his opinion into her matters as he liked to do at times.

"Deal with it Gideon!" Hazel shouted back, giving the shared wall they had a thump. Paper thin walls with now magical protection. Pathetic, and it wasn't as if Mrs. Fitz would allow any tampering with her 'precious property'.

She really missed home sometimes.

At least she had something to look forward to though that day.

Hazel,

Meet me at the Scamander Inn at Brighton at noon.

Doran

That was the note that Hazel had received that morning via her little bird, the source of contact between the two. It seemed that Doran was back in England and Hazel was curious as to whether or not he had gotten that basilisk venom.

Thus, Hazel waited at the bar of the Inn by the seaside, as questionable a place to be as where she and Doran had first met. It was named for the author of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them", and Hazel believed that Newton Scamander would be glad to see the fantastic beasts that were present.

Most of the pub-goers looked like they had been in prison, had lots of tattoos and scars. There had been four fights in the time that Hazel had been there and she had only been there for about 15 minutes.

There was one man in particular who seemed eager for some action. He was big and round with numerous scars all over his belly, seen by the fact that he didn't wear a shirt. Hazel couldn't help but wonder if he was cold. It was the dead of winter and freezing outside. If he was he didn't let on. He was maybe in his late-twenties, was bald and had tanned skin and a great big laugh that echoed throughout the room.

Hazel had the urge to go talk to him, he seemed like he would have been fun to go out with maybe once.

She had her comb back in her hair but didn't wear anything else of particular value. She merely wore a green jumper and black pants and boots with a plain, but high quality, black robe; a bit more conspicuous than her plum and dragon hide robes.

"A vision, truly." Hazel smiled softly, but quickly dismissed it before turning to her side to meet her traveler. Doran was a bit more clothed this time, having a shirt on. He still wore his dragon hide coat on however.

"In comparison to our company here, I suppose so." Hazel whispered as he took a seat next to her. "The same goes to you."

"Why do I think I choose places like this?" Doran winked at her and glanced at their company. Not a very attractive lot.

"They're interesting though," Hazel replied, looking back to the large round man with scars. He was in a card game now with several others.

"Ay, they are." Doran nodded. He knocked on the bar and ordered drinks. "That is a beautiful comb you have. A gift from someone special?" He went to touch her heirloom, but she moved away before he could

"It is special to you I deduce," Doran did not seem put off.

"It was my mothers." Hazel informed him, pushing the silver piece further down into her hair.

"Ah," Doran nodded. "My own mother had one similar as well. I recall hers having many secrets however." He still glanced at the piece.

"There can hardly be secrets if too many people know about them." Hazel challenged.

"Fair point," He nodded and finally seemed to focus on something else. "How are you?"

"Cold," Hazel replied bluntly, turning back around with her back now to the crowd.

"You should have come with me to the south. I was in Corsica. Beautiful weather, beautiful food, beautiful girls," Doran smirked cheekily.

"There are some holes in your letters then. You merely told me about the company that you didn't enjoy."

"A pain I had to endure.
"With good reason?"

The side of his mouth flicked up into a persuasive half smile. "I wouldn't be back here if it hadn't."

Hazel was impressed.

"I'll hardly believe you unless if you show me."

The two quietened down because their drinks had arrived. They watched the bartender leave before continuing.

"I wouldn't have asked you here unless I had something to show off my amour." Doran purred.

With a quick glance around, he pulled Hazel's chair closer to him with a quick but strong tug and leaned in. Looking down, Hazel saw that he had reached into his pocket and pulled out a small vial with a violently red liquid in it.

"So tell me 'my amour'," Hazel rolled her eyes when she repeated his words. "Why such the trouble for this?"

"Because this is some of the only venom left in the world. The beast so unique died over a century ago and they're not likely to find another one." Doran replied, looking down at his loot admiringly.

"How are you so sure that this what you think it is?" Hazel asked. She hadn't even heard of the type of basilisk to make the venom.

"This is only most of the stock that this group held," Doran replied mysteriously. Hazel was a bit taken a back inwardly.

"I thought you said that this was only for the most passionate of loves?" Hazel asked, wondering if it had been him to have used it.

"I still hold that to be true," he conceded. "The one whose hands held this before me had used it and I witnessed the effects. The women must have envisioned that death a hundred times before she did it." He said this almost dreamily and jealous-like.

"And what happened to the previous hands?" Doran couldn't have been just given it.

"They got cut off," Doran smirked.

Hazel didn't know why, but that statement made her chuckle.

"They sounded like the like a certain group here in glorious England," Hazel continued.

Doran nodded. "I'm not so sure they aren't part of the same cause."

Hazel glanced at him for a moment and went into his unknowing mind. She needed to see this for herself.

Ay, there had been beautiful weather, food and people, but Hazel had been more interested in the group he was referring to. Big huge meetings and a village exploding, it seemed Doran got up to quite a lot with that group. All for one little vial.

It was a quick visit and Hazel was out in less than a second. It still caused Doran to seemingly black out ever so slightly however, the man nearly losing his balance in his chair.

"Are you alright?" Hazel asked innocently.

Doran took another moment to come to, but he looked at her and nodded.

"I suppose I'm still weary from travel," Doran didn't look convinced at that himself however.

Hazel nodded silently cursed herself. Usually she was a bit more discreet than that. Apparently it always gave the somewhat uncomfortable feeling, like when you know someone is staring at you but you can't see who. Hazel hadn't made anyone feel faint however since Slughorn had began to help her refine her abilities. She had learned from a book she found in the restricted section of the library in her fourth year, but until someone actually gave her guidance, she had been as sloppy as that anytime she tried.

Hazel had been Slughorn's favorite in her year. He also liked Lily Evans if Hazel remembered correctly, her future sister-i-law. The two of them had been in his 'Slug Club', a group of students that were apparently the best in their year, but really had been whoever had peaked Slughorn's interest. Hazel had been bored with classes and had really only put in work in order to pass the classes. She had done very well on her O.W.L.S nonetheless however but it certainly wasn't because of her professors. Most of the things she learned were done on her own time.

Slughorn had actually appreciated her boredom and tried to interest her in other things. He had known about her little bird and legilimency, and had also sought her to pursue an animagus. That unfortunately never came to fruition.

'Maybe one day', Hazel reflected.

"What are you doing to do with it?" Hazel asked, referring back to the vial.

"I don't know," Doran replied, gazing at his prize. "I could sell it and make a fortune. It seems such a waste for mere money though."

"Money makes the world go round," Hazel challenged.

"It is spent so easily though and can be given for anything. This however, this something that is unique."

"Is there any down side to having it," Hazel asked sarcastically. The way he spoke about it as if it were the 'be all end all' amused her.

"There is a downside to every up," Doran mused. "You don't think that the people I took this from are going to look for it?"

"I would have thought you'd have made sure that wasn't a problem."

"There are limits to even my abilities my amour."

Hazel and Doran had stayed at the pub for several more hours before going their different ways.

He had told her about the time he travelled to Siberia and had to fight off a pack of possessed rabid wolves with his bare hands because his wand had been taken by their possessor, a man who had grown up feral.

Hazel wasn't sure as to whether or not she believed the story, but it was a good story nonetheless. Hazel also liked the story about he had gone to South America and feasted with ghosts at Macchu Picchu. Apparently they were riots.

They had parted ways with the promise to see one another soon, Doran giving her a big hug in doing so.

Hazel, once she had bid her farewell, had apparated to Knockturn Alley. She had someone to meet once again.

It wasn't just her black and white that acted as her little bird.

Still, when she whistled her melodic tune, they two came flying.

Her black and white shot from the sky and swooped down to her, landing on her shoulder. Within seconds, its clone came sweeping down the street, quietly and slyly before rejoining the original. The two birds merged together, the feathered bodies twisting and bending together, and soon appeared as one bird once again.

"Miss Potter," the fellow that Hazel's eyes met with had followed the bird. The man was homeless and middle aged with greasy grey hair and a beard that hung long and un-kept. He had old patched clothes on that were thready and patchy. This particular man however wore the new shoes that Hazel had bought him the last time he told her what she needed to know.

He was one of twenty of her birds. Paying them for what she wanted to know was the main source of extravagance that spent up any wage she had, the clothing and food the other parts. They gave her information and she gave them money as well as something to do with their time.

She could still have saved well however if she did not have her birds, but in the end knowledge was more precious than gold. Besides, she cared for her birds. She had a soft spot in her heart for lost things and they were in that group. They were too lost to be seen by any body and could travel where they needed to unnoticed. They didn't make a fuss and no one cared about their surroundings enough to notice those lurking in the shadows. There were some places that Hazel would never be able to go but they would.

She sent duplicates of her bird out to them and they would lead them to her again. She sent them once a week to her regulars and once a month to those that she saw occasionally. She met with them personally because she needed trust between herself and her network. It was fast pace in the speed of information given, even if it was by sometimes questionable means.

It was their business however to decide how to get the information, not hers.

To be honest, Hazel believed that her 20 strong network actually enjoyed the work she gave them. Their curiosities and strong and they too got to keep this information. That information had got them out prison time and out of fines with the ministry. Abraxas might have threatened a pay cut in order to get out of prison time, but her network got out of everything without paying a cent.

That was true power.

Hazel was surprised that the ministry hadn't thought about using them in order to get the information they wanted instead of sending fiery aurors into their spy missions.

"Hello Rutherford," Hazel greeted with a warm smile.

He nodded to her, his grey eyes twinkling with excitement.

"Come, sit with me." Hazel led him to an antique furniture shop that had chairs out for advertisement at its storefront. Chairs were for sitting weren't they? It wasn't very secret, but she knew that as soon as they went looking for a hiding place where only they were allowed, that's when people would begin to take notice. People where like that. If they're allowed in then it was nothing special, as soon as someone kept then out then it was all important that they knew what was going on.

"How have you been?" Hazel asked politely.

"I've been okay," Rutherford nodded.

"You look cold," Hazel commented. If what he told her was good enough then she had only a galleon left in her pocket from her last job and it was his perhaps. Rachel wouldn't mind her bunkering down at her place for a while.

"I don't mind," Rutherford shook his head but still shivered. "I have something to tell you though."

"By all means," Hazel kept a softened expression on her face, but her mind was hardened and focused on what he was about to say.

"It's about Abraxas Malfoy."

"What about him?" Hazel elevated an eyebrow. His entire trial had apparently only been on felony tax evasion that he conveniently paid his way out of.

"Have you heard about his trial?"

"Of course."

"The entire thing was phony," Rutherford spoke in a hushed whisper and Hazel leaned in, intrigued now. She had been let down by the fact that the trial had been so trivial, but now it all of a sudden had gotten a bit more noteworthy.

"All trials are phony where the accused can pay their way out," Hazel tested, as she waited for Rutherford to tell her what he had found out.

Rutherford laughed in manical way, but settled down quickly. "Very true Miss. Potter."

"That isn't what you mean though is it?" She knew it wasn't.

Rutherford shook his head vigorously with a outlandish smile on his face. This was going to be good.

"The ministry had originally charged him with something else." Rutherford was barely audible now, whispering in Hazel's ear. He spat with his words occasionally and his breath was rancid, but Hazel kept her composure. What he had to say was more important.

Rutherford just erupted into a mad giggle however.

"What is it Rutherford?" Hazel asked patiently. Getting frustrated at him wouldn't help.

"He…" Enough fit of giggles.

"He what?"

"He was on trial for smuggling."

'That's it?' Hazel thought. It depended on what was smuggled, but it was still a bit of a let down.

"What was it he was carrying?"

"Giants," Giggles again but this made Hazel excited too.

"How?" Hazel asked, letting excitement show.

"And dragons. And people."

"Who?" Hazel continued her one worded questions.

"Some of you-know-who's supporters from the east," Rutherford replied. "Funded them all."

"Where's he keeping these… items?"

"At that big ol' house of his," Rutherford replied. "He's gone and put every defensive spell around the place."

"Why didn't the ministry try him for that?" Hazel inquired, just as quiet as her companion was. They didn't need anyone hearing the.

"Because the son of a certain someone was one of the found to be in the group he brought back."

"Whose?"

"Barty Crouch's boy. The boy got off, but he's being put under lock and key by his father now."

This was too good.

"Where did you hear this?" Hazel asked. She needed to make sure this was credible before she got too excited.

"A house elf on shopping rounds for the Malfoy family, little fella just needed someone to talk to." Rutherford laughed.

"Surely they would have sworn the elves to secrecy," Hazel would be astonished if they didn't.

"Rules have ways around them."

"Ooooo, wait till you here this," Rutherford continued with a snicker. "The whole bunch of them are planning a raid."

"When and where?"

"The auror office tonight."

"Potter," Mrs. Fitz scathed as the two passed one another in the hall of the entrance to the apartment building.

"Fitz," Hazel glowered. She was tired and not in the mood to get into a fight. She had just been told that Ministry of Magic was going to be attacked that night and if anyone found out she knew about then she was going to be arrested. Prison didn't suit her but interrogations about how she knew that information didn't either. She was brought in constantly by Moody constantly but those had always consisted of an arm check, a wand check, and a maybe a catch up question or two between her and Bill Boozler on how they were going. It wasn't a who knows how long session of questions with people who actually thought that she was up or caught into something. If she did that, then the annoying check ups would become daily almost and Hazel knew that she wouldn't be able to deal with that. She would eventually do something stupid and get arrested anyway.

All that seemed to amount to her ending up on one side or the other which was very inconvenient as she had already sworn off both sides.

Still, she had concern about not telling them despite the consequences. The sun was barely setting by that time however, there was no chance that any one would attack while the sun was still up.

Hazel wondered what they wanted though. If it was just for terror then they would do it in broad daylight, not wait until nighttime when the majority have gone home (with the exception of a few dedicated or unlucky stragglers).

Perhaps they wanted auror records. From what Rutherford had told her, they seemed to be getting sloppier.

Then again, that was Hazel. She saw more point in using a network of nobodies to get what she wanted rather than a network of somebodies who would draw to much attention though.

She wasn't them though. She just kept this information for back up for any situation. Maybe she just liked knowing something about everybody. Saved a lot of stress and disappointment.

Lost in her thoughts, she had almost forgotten about her landlady.

"What do you think you're doing having aurors stalk around in my apartment!" Mrs. Fitz was furious but Hazel just grimaced.

"Oh, they're back are they?" They couldn't be surely.

"Back! They've snooped around my property before? They're snooping around your apartment and I want them out!" Hazel's eyes widened in surprise at this information and panicked inside as she sprinted up to her room. It couldn't be a coincidence abut her learning bout the attack just half an hour ago and them showing up.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing!" Hazel spat out when she reached her apartment. Madeye was there but he didn't have trainees this time. This time actually had fully qualified aurors with him.

Madeye looked at her with contempt. He was holding Mitzy by the scruff of the neck, looking like he had just picked her up from the bed she was now hovering over.

"Put her down!" Hazel demanded, not taking well to someone treating her cat like that. Her little bird was not present thankfully, seemingly not back from when Hazel let it go after Knockturn Alley.

"You're not in the position to make demands Potter," Madeye growled. He seemed furious, not just the impatience he usually displayed when checking on her.

This wasn't a check up.

"I believe I can demand to know why you're here!" Hazel's façade was gone and now she was just angry (and a little bit nervous if honest). She had paid Rutherford, he wouldn't have a grudge against her to tell anyone that she knew about the raid that was going to happen.

Hazel didn't believe that though. He told her things for money and she was sure Rutherford would tell anyone who wanted to know about her if they had a bigger pocket. He was very good at spying on people for money.

"Can you identify this?" One of the aurors behind Madeye, Griffith Hazel believed his name was, pulled out something small from his pocket.

Hazel's hand immediately went to the back of her head when she saw him pull out her mother's comb. Searching around, her eyes widened as she found nothing.

"How did you get that?" Hazel hadn't even noticed that it was missing. The three aurors looked at one another and nodded.

"Hazel Potter, you are under arrest for suspicion of aiding Lord Voldemort against the statute of wizarding law."

Hazel looked at them dumbstruck. "You people cannot take a hint. I don't choose sides!"

Hazel was made to wait in a small room that was locked with two guards at the door. Her wand had been forcibly taken from her and anything else on her person that wasn't clothing (not including her robe). She had a binding curse around her hands that were stuck behind her. She had been waiting for an hour.

She had however found out why she was there and she was livid. No, more than livid! If she ever saw that son of a bitch again she was going to strangle the life out of the bastard.

Doran… fucking Doran. It had to have been him, her unfortunate acquaintance. For, from what she found out by the minds of the aurors who had arrested her, her comb had been turned in as missing by someone who 'just happened to find it' on the street. Some one accidentally pricked themselves with one sharp edge and was now in St. Mungo's fighting for their life.

Was it bad that Hazel wanted to meet the man who was near death? Perhaps he was her soul mate. That was a poison to be given between soul mates, the bastard had been right on that. Love was vicious, so was that. Yet somehow she had managed to get stuck with some guy at the front desk who was stupid enough to touch something sharp.

'My one true love', Hazel sneered. Just her luck.

Rare basilisk venom it was discovered to be; rare basilisk venom that had recently been stolen six months ago from the vaults of the ministry of Magic itself by known supporters of You-Know-Who who had fled before any lead could be put on them.

If Doran had known about this, Hazel wondered how she hadn't seen it when she had entered his mind. She should have seen it, she should have seen everything.

She had been sloppy going into it, but that couldn't have messed her up to much.

Why hadn't she seen this coming?

Hazel couldn't wrap her head around it, she never made mistakes like that. And she certainly never let someone take something off of her person without her knowing about it. Had he done it when he had hugged her? Or had it been earlier.

'Such as stupid mistake,' Hazel rubbed the bridge of her nose. She needed sleep.

Was that why? Simple tiredness?

'Merlin I just got played so badly.'

No matter what the cause was though, Hazel needed to get out of there. The clock was ticking and Hazel was still angry with herself and with the aurors for her getting arrested, meaning that she wouldn't tell them about the attack unless she absolutely had to. She would however if that meant it kept her from being in the crossfire that was about to happen.

'Maybe it's already happening,' she questioned herself. 'Maybe it's already happening and I'll be able to just waltz out of this without a single question being asked. The dead don't talk, they're good like that.'

Hazel could use the Barty Crouch Jr. cover up as a way to 'pay' her way out per say. They knew how quickly she could get it onto the front page of new stories by just giving it to Rachel. Or she could use the laundering that the Minister's cabinet was performing to fill their own pockets. That was a good one, another little bird had whispered that to her a couple of months ago but Hazel was sure that it was still very relevant.

She could get out quickly and then point out their stupidity and claiming suspicion on her at a later date. Everyone wins (well, she would at least).

This was why she kept her own little birds. Her great invention in her black and white bird had been reduced to an owl, but had given way to her greater invention.

Hazel was deep in thought when the door behind her finally opened again. She caught the sound however and allowed herself to be taken from her thoughts. She was pretty sure that her plan was sound and hopefully efficient enough for her to haul arse out of there as soon as possible.

The auror who had entered didn't say a word and seemed to be waiting for her to turn around. Seemed to be quite the drama queen. Hazel took pleasure however in the fact that he would have to walk and face her. She wouldn't face him.

Confident, could almost feel the open mind. At least she could figure out who she was facing.

Hazel began to stare into space as her own mind fleetingly left, but all to quickly she was brought back to reality and a knot formed in her throat.

Hazel still waited for the new occupant of the room to face her, not the other way around, but she didn't take nearly as much pride as she would have before when they finally took the seat right in front of her across from the desk she was sitting at.

"What in Merlin's name did you do?" James bloody Potter asked accusingly.

A/N: Feedback and reviews are very appreciated. Thanks for reading. Next update coming soon.