AN: Do you have any idea how long this took me to write? Three days! I'm so busy, and having the worst writer's block ever. I haven't updated my other fics in weeks. Damn you, school year!
Anyone read about Madeline L'Engle's death? I was so sad! "A Wrinkle in Time" was one of my all time favorites. Fantasy and religious blasphemy all at once! How could one not love it? May you not be in trouble God, should she exist, oh greatest of novelists.
Says the religion minor at a major university. Eh, what can you do?
Anons:
EH – As someone pointed out, JK also made the same mistake I did, stating that Hermione's middle name was Jane. I knew I'd read it somewhere! Even if, you know, it wasn't in the actual books. Heh. Well, it's too much fun to tease. I know that makes me a mean fanfic author, but whatever. You know, you'd think, but I've often learned that what seems so obvious to frequent readers and writers often goes by unnoticed by others. I thought so. He's been a busy little boy, what with being an Auror, helping George out with important projects, running SPEW, and dating that chick. It's going to be interesting, to pull this all together. My goal is to update all my chapters by next Monday. Fingers crossed!
Shonnarae – Thanks. That was the thinking, after all. Along with my cheater-ish way of staying with Hermione's POV and giving some insight on Harry and Ron's thought process. Angst is fun! You'll have to wait a bit, I think. Having them nip at each other is too much fun.
Now on to the insanely long chapter that took me YEARS to write. Or, well, that's how it felt to me.
Disclaimer: It takes me three days to finish six pages. Like hell I've written seven entire books, several hundred pages each.
"ACCENDO ABSCONDITUS!"
A tiny ball of fire burned at the end of the wand. It shuddered and swirled around itself, like a cold traveler pulling a cloak closer to their body. Quivering, it looked small and shaken. The slightest breathe from the man holding the wand seemed to threaten its timid existence.
Then, slowly, hesitantly, it grew, sliding down the wand eagerly, happily enveloping the hand that wrapped around the wood. Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of white. The flame turned a vivid green and snaked to cover its castor. He lit up wildly, throwing sickening patterns on the stone walls behind him. His eyes blazed with secret knowledge. The thin mouth opened in a hair-raising cackle; within him, the blue flames crackled and made bids for freedom.
And it was over. The dark was instantaneous and oppressing. Only the slight smell of burnt flesh remained.
A low voice spoke. "Hermione Granger, I see you."
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Hermione felt as though a finger had run itself lightly up her spine. It was as though someone had ripped through the protections she had set upon herself for the past few years in just a few seconds. She felt amazingly vulnerable. Shivering, she rubbed her arms slowly.
"Tu est bien, oui?"
Hermione shook her head. "Toujours, Pascaline."
The short witch to Hermione's right cocked an eyebrow, officially distracted from the reports that she, Hermione, Gloria, and Faiz, a solemn-looking man with deep eyes. "Oo iz alwayz fine? No one. What iz 'e matteeur?"
The discussion had finally caught the other two's attention. Gloria frowned. "What has happened, Hermione?"
"Nothing, really. Just a bad feeling, I suppose." Hermione smiled as best as she could, ignoring the cold buzzing in the back of her brain that told her otherwise.
Faiz lowered his magnificent head to look her in the eye. "Where I am from, Miss Granger," he said in a deep voice, barely the whisper of an accent tingeing his words, "it is considered to foolish to ignore one's feelings. It is possible that there is something that your senses know that your head does not."
Gloria and Pascaline nodded empathetically. Hermione scowled. "I don't believe in signs or feelings or any of that superstitious nonsense. There is and always will be cold hard fact and data, and nothing else. Silly things, crystal balls an-and Grims and such ..." She drifted off, muttering angrily. Quite apart from being upset with Faiz or even with Pascaline, she could just imagine Ron's reaction if he'd heard her say the same thing just a few years ago.
Like all your defenses were down? I dunno, Hermione, that sounds bad. Think we should ask Harry what he reckons? Maybe Kingsley? And in the meantime maybe you should just sort of lay low, don't take any risks, stick with me for a while ...
"Absurd," she snorted, her voice wavering, and turned back to the reports.
Faiz gazed at her, unperturbed. "Miss Granger, have you not seen enough in this life to understand there are things you cannot explain, even with magic?"
Hermione sighed and ran her hands through her out-of-control hair. "Of course. That doesn't mean that everything is a sign. Or that I have to pay attention to the ones that are."
"That is most ..."
"Foolish, yes, you've mentioned," Hermione snapped, whipping around to face him.
Pascaline and Gloria both looked eternally grateful for the immediate interruption moments later in the form of Randy.
"Arvo, mates! Gloria, my girl." He bent down for a kiss. "And Hermione Granger, commander in chief of all that is secret and safe."
"You have a point, Randy," Hermione said testily.
"Indeed I do. Guess what ratbag's gone and taken a sickie?"
Instantly, Hermione's feelings of foreboding increased. "Kregan," she breathed, a sudden bolt of understanding hitting her.
She scrambled onto her feet, knocking reports every which way. "Finish those up, and make sure they've got those holes fixed," she instructed hurriedly, before heading for the door.
"Where you going, then?" Randy asked as she passed by, but she didn't give him a second thought.
It was only minutes before she was sitting next to Ophelia, deep in discussion in hushed tones over two mugs of coffee. Ophelia had pulled her chair around her desk so they could put their heads as close together as possible.
"A scary feeling I can ignore, but with Kregan not here?" Hermione's hand shook a little, so that the liquid in her cup rippled. "I think it might be more than that, and I'm a bit worried, to be completely honest."
"So Regan's ... what? I thought he was just some little slime ball who had it out for your job." Ophelia reached over to pat her friend's shoulder as Hermione's eyes darkened.
"He was a Death Eater."
Coffee sloshed onto the floor below, but Ophelia didn't pay any attention. "What?" she yelped, her grip on Hermione tightening.
"He was in the Ministry the second time around," Hermione relayed in a monotone. "When Voldemort called for his Death Eaters, Kregan stayed behind. He even warned Mr. Weasley of what was coming. He was able to beg off of sufficient punishment with all the Death Eaters Kingsley had to account for. He's been working in the Ministry ever since."
Ophelia bit her lip. "But if he warned one of the Order, doesn't that mean ..."
"I think, by then," Hermione continued, giving Ophelia a significant look, "that by then Kregan was thinking about a new master."
The coffee mug crashed to the ground.
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"Peas? Hermione? Peas, Hermione? Do you want the ... Hermione!"
Her head swung up. "What?"
"Peas." Harry stuck the bowl of vegetables under her nose. "Do you want any?"
"No. No, thank you."
Kregan had been in to hear all of the reports. He should know better than anyone ... perhaps it was revenge? She had been the one, after all. And he'd be bitter, no doubt about it, and he was a disgusting wretch to boot. But did he know enough magic for that? He'd always seemed another Wormtail, riding on more important people's coattails. His main strength had been his contacts and wealth, influence that could get him what he wanted in the Wizarding community. Had he changed so dramatically? She supposed that almost everyone else had...
"Hermione!"
"Yes, yes, what is it?" she asked irritably, turning to look Harry in the eyes.
Harry pointed at her dinner plate. In contrast to Harry and Ginny's, which had half-eaten vegetables, bread, and slices of meat pie, Hermione's plate was spotless.
"Oh. I'm not hungry." Flapping her hand dismissively, she asked, "Have you got a library, by any chance?"
Harry gave her an incredulous look. Then, slowly, the corners of his mouth turned up. They twitched slightly. A strangled noise came from somewhere in his throat. Then, he was laughing hysterically.
Ginny glanced over at Hermione, before commenting dryly, "Yes, Hermione, we do have a library. Harry's very excited about it."
"No it's not ..." Harry pulled in a deep breathe before elaborating, grinning. "I know that look. Hermione Granger has a problem and the library has all the answers."
"Never complained when it saved your ass, did you, then?" Hermione asked darkly, stabbing a bun from a nearby platter with unnecessary ferocity. For the first time, the amount of food caught her attention. "Who else is coming?"
Harry, looking about shiftily, countered with, "What's got you running off to the library?"
Further bickering was halted when a call came from the front door. Hermione's eyes widened. She leaned over to hiss in Harry's ear, "You could't've warned me?"
Harry shrugged defensively. "We always put out extra food, just in case. They've just been busy this week."
Hermione's face paled. "They?"
"Evening, chap and chapesses. Let's see. One hero, one darling sister, and one bushy-haired runaway."
"Didn't you hear? Her hair isn't bushy, now. It's a Potion's experiment gone wrong."
Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no-no-no.
In strolled the owner of the first voice. George was grinning massively, and looked possibly the best she'd seen him since his twin's death. Hermione could deduce two probable reasons. One was the ring on his left hand. The other was the tall redhead that followed just behind him, wearing a matching grin.
Apparently, in Hermione's absence, George had found another brother to get close to.
"Hermione Weasley! Oops, my mistake. Still Granger, isn't it?"
Well, there went any hope of the Weasley family hearing her side of things. Maybe if she teamed up with Ginny and Fleur she could win Bill and Charlie back.
"And that really is an explosion up there, isn't it? Did the thought of marrying Ronniekins scare you that badly?"
"No, it was the thought of being related to you, of course. Women are queuing up to marry me."
"She left the damn country to get away from you, and my anniversary's next week."
"You have a large nose."
"And you have a rapier wit, little brother."
The two of them conjured seats from the next room over. Ron tipped back and straddled his. "Not hungry, then?" he asked, sickly-sweet, looking at Hermione's empty plate.
It had been two weeks. Two entire weeks and Ron still hadn't said a kind word to her. In fact, he was obviously avoiding her at the Ministry. Every time he saw her walking towards him, he made an exaggerated expression, turned on his heel and practically fled in the other direction.
"That's enough, you lot," Ginny interrupted threateningly. She reached over and smacked George's hand as he reached for the bread. "Apologize."
George smiled at her winningly. "I'm sorry, where are my manners? May I please have a bun?"
Ginny glowered, causing Ron to lean over and give her a peck on the cheek. "Look just like Mum, you do. Come off it, we're just having some fun. Hermione knows that. Don't you?"
She smiled at him, tight-lipped. "Hilarious. Lovely to see you again, George, as always."
George nodded at her. "Wish I could say the same."
"Enough," Ginny growled menacingly.
Harry, fortunately, took hold of the situation.
"You haven't been around lately, George. Have you got something new you're working on?"
George smirked. "As a matter fact, O Chosen Boy, we have."
Ginny couldn't help looking interested. "I never heard anything."
"Well, you wouldn't," Ron said, a fork loaded with pie halfway up to his mouth. "We've only started working on it this week, haven't we? And this is the first time you've seen us since then."
In an effort to keep Ginny from throwing the sharp retort at Ron as anyone could she was dying to do, Harry questioned hurriedly, "So what are you working on, exactly? Those counter-effects Kingsley was going on about?"
"Nah, we figured those out ages ago," George said dismissively. "And do you think that old Royal would let ickle Ronnie out to help me for something like that?"
"I s'pose not," Harry acknowledged. "Something important, then."
"Very. But I'm not sure we should tell you," Ron said, staring at Hermione in a challenging sort of way. "Keeping secrets seems to be the fashion, these days."
"Fashion was never your strong suit, Ronald," Hermione fired back, eyes narrowed. "I still remember those dress robes from fourth year."
Ron cocked an eyebrow. "The ones Mum bought me because we couldn't afford anything else? I remember those. Ah. Is that the reason you went to the Yule Ball with Vicky instead of me?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, shooting back with, "I told you not to call him ..."
"Best thing you ever did for me, of course," Ron continued over her lazily, scooping some peas onto his own plate. "Should've stuck with Patil. She was pretty, smart, and, George, guess where she's been for the past three year?"
"Where, Ron?" George asked, ignoring the warning glare Ginny gave (a clear sign to not aide in the insanity happening at her dinner table).
"London!" Ron exclaimed happily.
Hermione was breathing heavily through her nose at this point. "You wouldn't have held on to her long. She was a Ravenclaw. Much too smart for a prat like you."
"You were too smart for me. Is that what happened? Because even an idiot like me can handle any everyday ditching, you know." Ron leaned on his elbows. "No need to run off with rude American women to go ferreting around in a jungle or something."
Her chair went spinning back into the wall behind her as flew up. Her eyes blazed; currents seemed to run all over her skin, as if she had been hit by lightening. "Two things, Weasley," she bit out, her mouth tasting vile. "First, I would have never, never broken our engagement. For your information, I didn't see a single person the whole time I was gone. And two. Don't ever, EVER insult what I did again. Be mad that I left. I deserve it, I know. But you have no idea what I did. What it's still costing me now. The danger I was in, the danger I'll still be in. You haven't any idea. What we did together, all the things we went through ... child's play." She spat the last two words as bitterly as she could.
Turning about, she stalked out of the room and up the stairs.
It was nearly half an hour before Harry came to her room. A cloud of yellow birds surrounded her, chirping madly and swerving up and down and landing briefly on her sweater before taking off again.
Harry leaned on the doorjamb. "You're not going to tell me still?"
Hermione's eyes followed the birds almost mindlessly. "No." She jabbed her wand at the air in the middle of the swarm; with a tiny ping, the birds turned a dark shade of blue.
"Child's play?"
"Not what you did, of course," Hermione amended absently. With another jab and ping, the birds turned into multiple tropical colors, from fluorescent pink to an indecently bright green. "But my part of it seems so small now. I mean, I helped, maybe. Still, I get it better now. All the things you went through, being singled out to fight a force so much bigger than you, worrying about everyone else's lives ... dying."
Harry took an involuntary step forward. "What?"
The unfocused look snapped back to attention. "Oh ... it's nothing. I didn't mean to say it, I didn't." She whipped her wand about; with a crack and indignant squawk, the birds vanished. "I'm not trying to tease you with things I can't talk about again, Harry, I'm not."
Harry seemed to want to ferret the truth out of her. The internal battle raged on his face for a moment before clearing. "So, you and Ron had a bit of a fight there."
Hermione smiled wanly. "That we did. It's hardly the worst."
"Are you sure about that?" Harry asked skeptically. "It seemed the worst to me."
"I'll find a way to fix it," Hermione said with a lot more confidence than she felt. "And Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"I need to ask you about spells. One's that strip your defensive charms."
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Deep in the Ministry's law department, a man opened his burnt palm. The tiny green fire erupted, tongues leaping merrily.
"Ostendo Mihi."
The flames cleared and settled. A small picture appeared and focused, like an automatic camera on an image in the distance. Sluggishly, the figure of a woman developed outlines and distinctive features. With a slight grunt, sweat dripping down his forehead, the man redoubled his effort until Hermione Granger's perfect image, voice included, sat in his hand. "Yes, like someone had just brushed against my spine," the miniature Hermione reiterated, eyes widened earnestly. Panting heavily, the man sneered.
"I see you."
AN: Ok, now this is the longest chapter I've ever written. With the two ANs, it's about seven pages. Crazy, right? Well, for me it completely is. Although, it's kind of weird. This chapter is almost two entire pages longer than last chapter, but the computer's only saying it's about a hundred words longer. I'm thinking either this isn't right, or I used some seriously large words and small paragraphs this time around. Oh well, I guess. Things are getting really interesting now, aren't they? Kregan's a nasty dude. And while I said I wouldn't reveal that much about her past, I never said it wouldn't effect her present, did I? No. No, I did not. It's going to be some serious fun now. Love? Hate? Review!
