Chapter Six: A Rush of Blood To the Head

--"I've been chucking Dungbombs at it all day." Ginny, OotP

Amelia Bones had officially decided that today was a day sent straight from Lucifer.

Actually, the whole week, month, and past three years ever since that bumbling idiot of a man who called himself a Minister was elected had been. She just couldn't understand how the public had been foolish as to choose a man like that to govern them. She herself had proudly voted for Emmaline Vance. Unfortunatly, Ms. Vance had dropped out of the running when her fiance had been killed by Death Eaters.

She blew a loose strand of honey-blonde hair out of her face- a few bits and pieces always managed to slip out of the two braided buns she wore. Bright brown eyes peered out from a pretty face at the pile of papers in her box.

"Memo, memo, memo, invitation, memo, memo, jury duty- damn, memo, letter from Susan?" Her niece was currently staying with her uncle David (on her father's side) and his wife Anne in southern Wales. "I'll need to read that right away… memo, memo…what in Dante's nine levels…."

She stared at the piece of crisp paper in her hand, disbelieving. "What the…"

"MINISTER FUDGE!"

Ministry workers scattered as she stormed down the hall, white robes billowing behind her. Fudge poked his head out of his office, looking irritated, which quickly turned to a wide smile. "Ah! Miss Bones! Do come in!" She followed him into his office, forcing herself to slow her breathing.

"Now," he said, sitting down behind his desk and crossing his fingers. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Minister," she said her voice deceptively calm, "May I ask the meaning of these so-called 'half-breed restrictions'?"

"Ah!" he said, brightening. "You've seen them then! They were suggested by my new Senior Undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge. They will help in keeping Wizarding kind safe from those abominations!"

She forced her temper down. "Minister, those 'abominations' are people like you and me! At the very least, please exempt werewolves and centaurs and mermaids- they don't do any harm!"

His countenance turned stony. "No harm? Miss Bones, werewolf killings are up seven percent in the last year alone!"

"Minister, they do no one any harm at any time other than the full moon- why should they be prevented from jobs and marriage, along with all the other things on that list?"

"You're treading on thin ground, Miss Bones. I should think you want to keep your job, do you not? You want your niece to have someone to support her, pay her tuition?"

She sighed; she knew she was beaten. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Oh, did you receive your invitation for the annual Ministry Ball?"

"Yes, sir."

"I expect you to be there, with an escort."

"Yes, sir."

"You're excused, Miss Bones."

"Goodbye, sir," she gritted through her teeth, sweeping to her feet and exiting the room gracefully before striding angrily down the hall back to her office.

"Stupid hippogriff-herder..." she mumbled, before sighing and turning back to the unopened letter on her desk. With a wan smile, she opened it to read the words of the closest thing she had to a daughter.

"Dear Aunty Amelia,

I'm having lots of fun. Uncle David and Auntie Anne are really nice; they like to play games with me. They got me a new dolly. I named her Amelia after you. They said I'm coming home in a week. I miss you lots!

Love Susan."

She grinned, her eyes sparkling as she finished the letter and returned it to the envelope. It sounded like Susan was having a good time- she was glad. Susan had been rather lonely here, with her at work all day. She checked in her ox once more, as the delivery hour wasn't yet over; sure enough, another memo. Wonderful.

The Ministry boxes were very handy- if the sender put the box number on the letter, then the owl would deliver it to the Ministry Owlery and it would be sorted and magically transported to the box itself.

She sighed heavily and sat down to go through the memos. Yet another day as the Head of Magical Law Enforcement; yet another day that seemed to never end.

-----

Hermione smiled tiredly across the table at Harry, who winked back at her.

"Are you all right, Hermione?" Sirius asked, concerned. "You look exhausted."

"I got up in the middle of the night and had a bit of trouble falling back to sleep- nothing serious." Harry snorted and turned it into a cough.

'Nothing serious indeed.'

.:Flashback : The Night Before:.

Hermione yawned and sat up in bed. She needed the restroom. Walking down the hall, she turned and knocked on the eighth door on the left. When no one answered, she opened the door and walked in sleepily.

Finished, and idly wondering why the water in the toilet seemed to be strawberry scented, she was on her way back to her room when something made her stop. It was an odd tingly feeling on the back of her neck, and for some reason she felt the need to go into Harry's room.

She opened the door gently in order not to wake Harry, and was mildly surprised when he was not in bed. That was when she noticed the open door in the wall. A slight frown creasing her forehead, she peeked her head in the door to see a darkened stair lit by a few torches. Slowly making her way down the stone steps and peered around the corner only to have her mouth drop in shock.

The far wall was covered with several huge bookcases, but instead of holding books they housed what appeared to be the potions holders featured in old films, cork stoppers and all. The rest of the room appeared to be several work tables, a wall of ingredients, and a load of simmering cauldrons. Harry was standing next to one, slowly pouring in a beaker of something black and shiny. 'What is this, a mad scientist lab?'

She didn't realize she'd said it aloud until he whirled around, dropping a glass and shattering it on the floor. "Oh!" he said, his face frozen in shock. "Er… well… it kind of is…."

"What do you mean?" she asked, venturing further into the dark room.

"I…. kind of like to pretend I'm a mad scientist… I found this room on my own, and I brought in a bunch of herbs and stuff to pretend to use…. I didn't want Sirius and Remus to find out in case they didn't want me to play anymore…" She couldn't tell the way the lies fell easily from his tongue; it was as though he was telling the purest truth. She didn't know that he had once grown up in a time where telling the truth could easily lose you your life. She couldn't know.

"Why wouldn't they want you to play?" she asked, sounding confused.

He shrugged, looking embarrassed. "I dunno… I started playing this when I first came here, and I didn't really know them then… and then it just got to be sort of fun keeping it a secret…"

She considered for a moment before coming to a decision. "Can I play?"

He turned his startled eyes to hers. "I- I guess so. I don't see why not… I'll have to teach you how to play, though."

"Okay."

.:End Flashback:.

That had been the start of a long night, learning the "properties" of things like "boomslang skin" and "basilisk venom". Harry had come up with all the names, he said, from things he'd read in fantasy books before. She believed him. She had no reason not to.

"Oh!" she suddenly said. "I meant to ask you, Sirius- why does the toilet smell like strawberries?"

Sirius snorted into his pudding, and it was Josie who answered. "His Great-Uncle Alphard was a bit… odd. He liked to practice spells that might be rather… frowned upon… by the Ministry. That's why you can do Underage Magic here, he made the wards so thick. You see, he had a dog that got in the way of one of his spells… or possibly more than one…" Sirius snorted again, and her lips twitched into a smile before she continued. "Anyways, the dog, in short, was extremely intelligent and had grown vocal cords. Webbed feet as well, but that's not the point. The point is, he told Alphard the toilet water tasted quite disgusting, so the man gave each toilet a different flavor."

"What happened to the dog?" Harry asked, curiosity piqued.

Josie shrugged and turned to Sirius. His godfather swallowed a bite before replying. "I dunno. He wasn't included in the will, so either he died or ran away. I have no idea."

"What was his name?" Hermione questioned.

Sirius chuckled. "Dog. Great-Uncle Alphard thought it to be very nice and to the point."

-----

The next week, Hermione's parents came home. Harry waved her off with a smile as she dragged her bag along behind her. "See you tomorrow!"

"You too!" she called back, before turning around and continuing on her way to her own house. When she reached the steps she lugged her bag up before knocking on the door.

Her mother swung it open. "Hermione!" she cried out, pulling her into a hug. "It's wonderful to see you dear." She picked up the bag easily and carried it in the door. Hermione followed, letting it swing shut behind her.

The older woman set down the bag and turned to her daughter. "So, how did it go? Did you have fun?"

Hermione nodded nervously. "Yes… er, I have something I need to talk to you and Dad about… Could we have a family meeting?"

Her mother's face had changed to one of worry, and she nodded. "Sure darling. I'll just go and get your father, and we'll meet you there… you go on ahead."

She nodded again and walked into the living room, sitting in her favorite chair and twisting her hands anxiously in her lap. A moment later, her parents came in, her father wincing slightly on his left leg. 'He probably banged it on the plane door like he did on their last trip…'

"Now, what's this about, sweetie?" her mother asked.

"Um… well… you see, the thing is, I found out about something that I'm really technically not supposed to know about for a few years…"

Helena turned to Gregory and scowled. "See? I told you she knew!"

Her father winced. "You were right, you were right…" He looked over at Hermione. "So, is it a bit odd knowing your parents are spies for M16?"

Her mouth dropped. "You're what?"

There was a poignant silence for a minute before Gregory muttered "I was right." Helena laughed nervously.

"Er… sweetie… the thing is, your daddy and I aren't really dentists, as I'm sure you guessed from what your father just said… we were going to tell you when you turned ten. I suppose we will a bit early… We're spies. We mainly work in breaking up drug rings, tracking down terrorists, finding kidnap victims… that sort of thing."

And once again, Hermione felt like and idiot as everything began to make sense. "That's why you and daddy always has those bruises! And why you're always going on trips! And why you agreed to give Harry and I fencing lessons!"

Her father nodded slightly. "Yes, that's right. Ah… do you have any questions dear? If you do, just ask…"

Surprisingly, only one thing popped into her head. "Can I tell Harry?"

An awkward glance, and then- "Yes, you can tell him and Remus and Sirius. They cannot tell anyone though. Stress how important that is."

And then, one more question, that was more of a statement than anything. "Teach us."

-----

Her parents had been more than a little surprised to learn about magic, she mused. They had said, though, that in their line of work they had to get over surprises quickly, and had accepted it as soon as they had talked to Sirius and Remus and had the two demonstrate. They had arranged to go together to Diagon Alley on Valentine's Day, in an exact week. In the same meeting, they had revealed what her parents were to a stunned crowd, and Sirius and Remus had agreed to letting Harry have lessons.

She had been surprised; she had thought it would take arguments. But they had finally told her about the wizard that most called You-Know-Who, but that she had been told to call Voldemort; the wizard who had terrorized both worlds and been stopped by Harry. That had been a large shock, but it explained why they wanted him to be bale to defend himself; they didn't think the self-proclaimed Dark Lord was as dead as he seemed.

So the two of them were to have lessons, and Valentine's Day was fast approaching. In just a few weeks, it was time for her first real excursion into the Wizarding World. She and Harry had sent letters to the owner of Magikal Jewelry to get the necklaces for Remus and Sirius for Christmas, and she had never actually been inside a Wizarding shop, or near any other real wizards or witches, before, and she was rather nervous.

"It'll be fine, Mione," Harry assured her as she gripped his arm hard enough to crack it. "Really. It's just the Knight Bus, and then Diagon Alley."

As both were abnormally light for their age, Harry from Dursley abuse and Hermione from slinking off during meals to go read, they bounced in the seats as the bus popped to another location. Several people looked at them oddly, but they ignored them.

She bit her lip. "I know, I know. It's just… it will be my first time visiting other wizards, and I'll be getting a wand…" Her voice was filled with awe. "It's just so amazing!"

He laughed and poked her in the side. "It's the same for me too. Although I have been at a wizard's hearing before."

"Oh!" Hermione said. "Whose?"

"Mine," Sirius interjected shortly. "They had locked me away without a trial for something I didn't do, because it looked so much like I did. I was framed by a man named Peter Pettigrew, who everyone hailed as a hero… he's in jail now."

Hermione had her hands over her mouth. "Sirius, that's horrible! What about innocent until proven guilty?"

He gave a bark like laugh. "Apparently, they didn't care. Don't be surprised if people give us odd looks. Some still think me guilty, even though I'm not."

Before she could reply, the Knight Bus stopped once more. "Diagon Alley!" the conductor yelled out. She gulped.

They were there.

-----

Through a door that her parents couldn't see, past a pub that gaped on seeing Sirius and Harry, into an alleyway, a tapping of bricks and through what had been a wall… all to reveal a beautiful cobblestone streets lined with amazing shops. Hermione's mind was whirling. It was all a bit much. Sirius, Remus, and Josie led them down the street, receiving stares and silence, until they reached a small shop on a corner. In peeling letters was written the words "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 360 BC". The window was bare except for a dusty purple cushion holding a withered wand.

Nervously, she opened the door, the bell tinkling in the silence. A man with gray hair and shocking blue eyes stepped out from behind the shelves. "Ahh, hello," he murmured. "I am Mr. Ollivander, owner of this fine establishment. I am afraid I do not know your name…"

"This is our daughter, Hermione Granger," her father said, stepping forward. "We're- what was the word- Muggles actually, Hermione's a witch though. Luckily her friend Harry is a wizard and could tell her what was going on…"

The sharp eyes turned on Harry. "Ahh, Mr. Potter," he breathed. "I have been expecting you. I remember every wand I ever sold… your father's-"

Sirius interrupted. "I think," he said harshly, "That we are here to get their wands, not for stories."

Ollivander inclined his head. "Of course, Mr. Black. Let me just get my measuring tape…" As he ducked under his desk, he could be heard muttering "Yours was oak and threstral tail hair, I remember quite clearly… twelve inches…"

He popped up again. "Alright then, I'll do Miss Granger here first… Which is your wand arm?"

She looked confused. "Um… I can use both, but I favor my left…"

"Right… now, let's see…" The measuring tape unrolled itself and began to measure her. Ollivander nodded as it rolled up and returned to his hand. "All right, all right… let's see…" He took down a box and opened it. "Maple and unicorn tail hair, twelve inches… give it a wave!"

She uncertainty took it and waved it, shrieking and ducking as she exploded a vase. Ollivander shook his head. "No, no… hmm…" He took down another box. "Ash and Puffskein skin, ten and a quarter inches… here you go." Nervously, she waved it and boxes exploded out of the wall.

"I can see this will take a while."

After forty-seven minutes (Harry had counted) Ollivander got an odd look in his eyes. "I wonder…" he murmured. "Let me see…" Harry froze. This was all too similar to when he had gotten his wand the first time around… he realized suddenly that he had never asked Hermione if Ollivander had said anything special when picking out hers, and wished he had. It would have all made so much more sense if he already knew…

Ollivander had returned, carrying an old beaten box. He blew a layer of dust off the top before gently opening it and pulling out a wand. "Vinewood with an ash handle, werewolf fur-" everyone who knew turned to look at Remus, who frowned slightly and shrugged, as if to say he didn't care- "twelve and a quarter inches. Try it."

Tiredly, she picked it up and swished it to the left. She stared as a shower of red and gold sparks came out. Ollivander applauded. "Excellent, excellent! That will be three galleons…" Sirius pulled out the certificates and gave them to Ollivander, who looked them over before nodding and putting them in the register. "All right then… Mr. Potter next!"

And Harry stepped forward to face his judgement. He had never even considered before that he might not get the same wand as he had had before… he automatically answered Ollivander's questions as he was measured. In fact, he didn't snap back to himself until he had already waved nearly thirty wands and Ollivander looked at him with a crease in his forehead.

"Two in one day?" he whispered to himself, before stepping in the back again. Sirius turned to Remus and Sirius and shrugged. In a moment the old man was back, carrying another ancient, filthy box. He reverently opened it and held out what seemed to Harry to be a long-lost friend. He barely heard Ollivander as he said "Holly and phoenix feather, 11 inches…"

He could hardly contain his glee as he picked up the wand, and almost lovingly flicked it. He was so lost in glee that he almost didn't see the red and gold sparks, and barely heard Mr. Ollivander's whisper of "Curious…"

A/N: Special thanks to my best friend Meg, who shares the account with me, and Lionheart for the inspiration, especially on Amelia.

--Aerin