(A.N.) Truth be told, faithful readers, I've not had the best month or so. Life has been kicking my ass, big time. Long story, no need to worry about me, I'm working on it. I just wanted you to know the reason I haven't updated is not because of my usual procrastination. Still, the show must go on and so shall this story. Fair warning: things will be kicking off from this point. Hold onto your Wizard hats!


Hermione's biggest worry had been an awkward meeting with Harry on the way into work. But fortunately, the entrance hall was mostly empty that morning, and it wasn't until she reached the lifts that she ran into a familiar face.

"Hi," said Ron meekly. He was leaning against the wall, restless hands in his pockets and an anxious look on his face.

Seeing him, Hermione smiled the first true smile since she had stormed out of Harry's cottage the night before.

"Morning," she replied.

He seemed taken aback by her warmth. "You're not cross with me?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

"Really? Because I really am sorry for siding with Harry, but…"

She came to stand against the wall next to him. "Don't worry about it. You're his best friend. I think there's a clause somewhere that says you always have to side with him."

"Right," he said, still seeming very confused by Hermione's pleasant demeanour. "But, well, I'd like to think we have a few clauses too."

Hermione grinned at him. "Ah, but when you start talking about girlfriends and clauses, everything starts to get very official. And you know where that leads, don't you?

Ron's cheeks turned pink, and Hermione fought the urge to laugh.

"Seriously, though," she said. "I'm fine. I've had time to think about it. And actually some help thinking about it." Ron gave her a quizzical look. "Long story, there was a nice man at my bus stop. But the point is, what happened last night is between me and Harry, and we'll have to sort it out between ourselves. Dragging you and Ginny into the middle isn't fair."

He nodded in understanding. "But do you really not believe him though? You don't think something weird is going on?"

She shrugged. "Whether there is or isn't, that's not the point. The point is I think Harry wants there to be."

Ron considered this, but before he could reply their attention was drawn away. The lift they stood next to, along with all others in the hall, suddenly opened and what looked to be every single Auror that worked for the Ministry of Magic came sprinting out, running right to the nearest exit.

"Ruddy hell," said Ron, pulling himself and Hermione out of the path of the Auror stampede. "Where's the fire?"


Obscured sunlight brought Yip the Yelper out of his slumber. He blinked awake, his eyes taking a good minute to adjust to the blips of bright light coming through the tiny holes of the fishing net that was wrapped tightly around his face and upper body. And the first thing he saw, once his eyesight steadied, was more Aurors than he knew existed staring at him intently. And in front of this pack of humanity squeezed into the tiny Knockturn Alley, was Harry Potter, who more than anyone was gazing at Yip like he didn't believe he existed.

"…bollocks," Yip grunted.

Harry turned to the Aurors gathered around with him.

"Get him out," he said.

The Aurors rushed forward to start untangling Yip from the lamppost, discarding the piece of paper that had been attached to his chest. Davart came to stand next to Harry, and they both stared at Yip's feeble struggles with amazement.

"We think he's been here all night," said Davart. "Anyone could have walked past and set him loose if Delridge hadn't been coming to question Borgin this morning and spotted him."

"Let's hold back on the celebrations this time," Harry cut across. "Wait until we're sure it's actually him."

"Harry," said Davart, looking at him tentatively, "they've already checked. There's no polyjuice this time. No illusion. It's him."

Harry turned back to Yip, who winced as the Aurors pulled the net away from his face and he became free to move again.

"Then even so. We know he was too sharp to fall for our trick with Duggy. If that was too easy than what's this? What's he trying to pull?"

"Bloody muggle!" cried Yip suddenly, as the Aurors held him upright and conjured ropes around his wrists. "If I ever see that maniac again I'll finish him there and then. I'll curse that stupid mop of hair right off his grinning head."

"Wow," said Davart. "He has lost it. Gone completely insa… Harry?"

Harry had left Davart's side and marched right over to Yip, coming to stand in front of him and forcing him to meet his gaze.

"Potter," said Yip. He was visibly in pain; his muscles had been pressed tightly against a post all night, after all; but this did not stop him sneering at Harry. "We meet at last."

"Yeah, yeah," said Harry dismissively. "Whatever. What did you mean by 'muggle', what are you on about?"

Yip chuckled hoarsely. "You've been kicking in every door from here to The Hog's Head trying to find me. And how do I end up getting nicked? Some rambling idiot who just happened to cross my path."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What makes you think he was a muggle?"

Yip shrugged. "The way he talked. Looked amazed at everything in front of his stupid face."

Harry's brain was rumbling, images flying at him of a mouthy idiot running through dark Hogwarts corridors with stupid hair and an amazed look constantly twinkling in his eyes.

"What did he look like?" Harry demanded.

Yip laughed again. "I'm not helping you. You'll have to live with knowing somebody else got to me before you. It's like I made Duggy tell you, you think you're so clever, don't you? How is old Duggy, anyway?"

Harry glared at him. "Dead. Get him out of here."

The Aurors dragged Yip down the street and out of sight. Harry stayed put, a million different thoughts in his head waiting to be vetted. Then he saw it.

The piece of paper that had been pinned to Yip, lying innocently on the cobbles. He picked it up, and what he read made him surer than ever that all of this somehow involved the Doctor.


Ginny had fallen asleep on the couch at an undisclosed time, but thought to be during the early hours of the morning. It was a rare day off from helping out at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and though she had initially planned to be up at the crack of dawn and training for the Kenmare Kestrels' Quidditch trials in two months, that was before the incident at Harry's cottage. She had stayed at his place till late, before returning home and, as previously mentioned, collapsing on the couch.

She was really going to have to stop this.

A relentless knocking at the door jolted her awake. She grumbled and pulled herself to her feet, trying to straighten her tangled hair as she walked to the door of her flat. The person on the other side continued to pound away.

"Alright, alright," she called. "But this better be impor…"

A muggle police officer in big fluorescent jacket was waiting in the hallway.

"Miss Weasley?" he said.

"Hmm?" Ginny squeaked.

The officer frowned. "Is this the residence of Miss Ginny Weasley and Miss Hermione Granger?"

Ginny kept her mouth firmly closed, and instead nodded quickly.

"…and are you Ginny Weasley?"

Ginny quickly rifled through the many answers to this most complex of questions.

"…yes?"

The policeman gave her strange look, but then asked, "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like you to follow me. There's some questions I need to ask you."


Hermione had asked around, but no one in her office seemed to know what was happening with the Aurors. She'd never seen the entire force mobilise as one like that since the days of the war. But since their destination was obviously a need-to-know piece of business, and the only Auror she knew wasn't exactly on speaking terms with her, she figured she'd have to wait and find out like everyone else.

So she made a cup of tea, made her way back to her desk and…

"Ahh!" she gasped. Then she fumed, "Terrence!"

Terrence's head peeked over his cubicle, brow furrowed with confusion. Then he saw the plastic dummy, clad in the prototype for their new uniform, sitting once again in her desk.

"Oh," he said, puzzled.

"Terrence I swear to God," said Hermione, putting her coffee on her cubicle desk. "This wasn't funny the first time, and now it's bordering on unprofessional. I've not had the best couple of days, I don't need to be jumping out of my skin every time I try to sit down!"

"Right," said Terrence, getting out of his own chair and coming around to hers. "Sorry. Honestly, I don't even remember putting him there."

Hermione gave the dummy a long look. She didn't know what exactly she hoped to see in its smooth plastic head, but for some reason it was making her uncomfortable.

"It's past being a joke now, so just pack it in."

"Okay," said Terrence, moving to heave the dummy out of the chair, "I won't play the mannequin gag again." As he dragged the lifeless body back to the corner of their office where it was supposed to be on display, she heard him add, "I'm not even sure I played it this time."


Ginny, like Hermione, had a secret. Ever since she was little, when Fred had told her she'd exposed the existence of magic to a little boy who lived near the Burrow and would thus now have to be imprisoned in Azkaban for all eternity, Ginny had been terrified of speaking to muggles. She could not shake the belief that sooner or later she was bound to slip up and give the game away, that she was destined at some point to reveal the wizarding world to ordinary folk and have to give everyone memory charms. Because she wasn't actually very good at memory charms.

Still, the police officer was a perfectly nice young gentlemen by the name of Toby who led her down the stairs of their building and out onto the street, which still had limited access and a strong emergency services presence.

"So," said Ginny, "this is about the shop explosion, right?"

PC Toby nodded as they crossed the road. "We're asking all of the local residents if they've seen anything suspicious in the last few days. Have you or your flatmate witnessed anything out of the ordinary?"

Ginny shook her head. "Hermione hasn't mentioned anything to me."

PC Toby looked at her expectantly. "…and you?"

"Hmm?"

"Have you seen anything you think we should know about?"

As fate would have it, they appeared to be walking in the direction of the very alleyway where she had indeed witnessed something out of the ordinary. And the thing was, her brain kept trying to point out, there was no reason to keep it a secret. Ron's description of the Doctor indicated that it probably wasn't him. So the man she'd met in that alleyway had been nothing but a stranger, holding some weird piece of equipment, talking all crazy and basically telling her something was going to happen to the shop the night before it did. All big danger signs. So why in god's name did she feel a need to protect him?

"Nope," she lied.

PC Toby didn't push any further though, merely nodding politely. "The other residents said about the same thing."

It was at this point that Ginny realised where they were heading, her gaze landing on the looming sight of half-destroyed four storey department building at the end of the road.

"Did you have to take the other residents into the shop too?

PC Toby gave her a bracing look as they approached the entrance. "No. But I'm afraid there's something in here you need to see."

The strange part was, the interior of the department store seemed mostly intact. Thing had fallen off their shelves here and there and there was of course some structural damage, but it wasn't until PC Toby took her up to the floor where the blast had originated that everything was burnt and charred, and with forensic teams still combing at the ash-covered remains.

PC Toby led her carefully over the far corner of what was once the men's formal wear section. "Can I ask if you have any strange goings on in your life?"

Ginny froze. "…like what?"

"Anyone you'd consider an enemy? Someone who might want to stalk or spy on you?"

"Stalk?" Ginny asked with alarm.

PC Toby nodded sadly, and he handed her a large envelope and motioned for her to open it. Inside were photographs, dozens and dozens of them. They were blackened and covered in soot, but she could clearly make out the many, many close up of her and Hermione taken from outside the large window of their flat.


Hermione had finally settled into work when word reached their floor. The Aurors had returned, and brought Yip the Yelper back with them – the real one this time. Her office cleared in an instant, everyone hurrying to the lifts to try and catch a glimpse of the excitement in the entrance hall. Hermione, however, headed instead for the Auror offices.

Even as she made her way there, she wasn't sure what her intentions were. Make peace? Keep trying to talk sense to him? Apologise for something she wasn't sure she was sorry about?

The Auror floor was still empty when she reached it though, so she had a few moments to think about it. She made her way to Harry's desk to wait for him, and it was there she had spotted an enormous stack of papers barely contained in a folder. She wasn't snooping, not in any way, but in the quick glance she had given the top page, a word had popped out at her. So she had taken a closer look, and discovered that the same word appeared over and over, again and again on every page.

"Excuse me, that's private."

Harry had appeared from nowhere, walking to his desk and closing the folder over. Hermione jumped in surprise, and any thought of what she'd originally come down here for disappeared.

"You're going to drive yourself mad," she said.

Harry didn't even bother to answer her, pulling up his chair and sitting down at his desk like she wasn't even there.

"Looking up every mention of a Doctor in Ministry reports?" Hermione pushed. "Do you even realise what you're letting yourself fall into? Assuming half of them are even referring to the same person?"

Harry glared at her. "Well, that's actually Auror business. So if you could return to your own department, I think that would be best."

Hermione had a retort ready to fire off, but just then the lift opened and other Aurors were filing into the office now, leaving their argument not so private anymore. Harry stared expectantly at Hermione, who simply heaved a great sigh and looked at him sadly.

"For whatever it's worth," she said, "I was coming down here to make sure you were okay."

Harry tried to focus all his energy on the part of him still furious with her, and not the tiny voice mourning for how she looked at him.

"Hermione," he called out, stopping her. She stopped and looked around, but he only held up something for her to see.

It was the piece of crumpled paper from Knockturn Alley. He watched her eyes flick over the neatly handwritten words that said, 'Please arrest me! xox'

"Found this with Yip," he said. "Remember the last time we found a funny little scribbled message about a very serious situation?"

He didn't know what reaction he expected, but the sight of her simply shaking her head and walking away did nothing for his already foul mood.


Hermione was so preoccupied when she eventually returned to her own offices, that she was momentarily shocked to find it empty. After a second she remembered how everyone had rushed downstairs. That didn't explain why all the lights had been turned off, mind you, but Hermione was so wrapped in thought that she didn't even notice.

She passed empty cubicle after empty cubicle until she reached hers, only to find that unlike all the others, it was not empty.

The dummy, once again, had been propped in her chair.

"Of for heaven's sake!" she cried, stamping angrily on the floor. "Terrence do you have any idea what I'm dealing with lately? I should have to put up with this at work!"

The problem was, Terrance didn't pop out from behind a cubicle with a cheeky grin. No one did. The floor was entirely empty save for her, and the dummy.

"Well when he gets back up here," she seethed quietly to herself, "I'll have his life."

She moved to eject the mannequin from her chair, when she noticed something. The figure was sitting perfectly in the chair, right up against the desk, with perfectly bent legs and a straight back. Not with the odd arm or leg sticking out as Terrence tended to leave it. What's more, the drawers of her desk were hanging open like they had been rifled through, and the carefully sorted reports on top had been messed with.

This did not sit well with Hermione Granger, and despite all her talk of paranoia over the past few days, she found herself staring intently at the plastic dummy in the horrible prototype uniform. She did not like the feeling she got from just looking at it, did not like how it's head was turned ever so slightly in her direction, and especially did not like that she was alone with it in an empty office.

She spotted her wand, which she had left on her desk in her rush to see Harry. Some bits of parchment had somehow landed on top of it, but she could see the end of it sticking out, inches away from the plastic hand of the mannequin. She told herself that this was all very silly, that she was spooking herself over nothing, but that nevertheless it would be sensible to retrieve her wand.

Wordlessly, she took the required step towards her desk, came to stand right behind the dummy, and carefully reached under the parchment for her wand.

A plastic hand snatched her wrist.


End of Chapter Seven