Chapter 10: The Ministry Marionette

Morning in the Burrow was a little stranger than usual. A good night's sleep had numbed most of the shock and horror at Pettigrew and replaced it with unease and anger. Mr Weasley's face still went hard when someone brought it up, and Harry spotted him fingering his wand once or twice. It took a lot to push the kind man to anger, but discovering a hidden interloper in his family home was more than enough.

Harry only realised mid-morning that he hadn't gone to the Hollow for over a day. He subsequently realised he wasn't bothered in the slightest. The Hollow was for their dealings outside of the law, but with any luck, the Pettigrew situation would be resolved without needing to show their hand. The news regarding Yaxley was heartening; the man was scared of Harry after their duel and wasn't meeting with anyone in person. He liked that. Death Eaters spread so much fear in the past, they deserved to taste it for themselves.

Ginny's conversation last night had been unexpected. Not only had she worked up the courage to talk to him, but she showed him she was capable of making intuitive – and accurate – leaps of logic based on very little information. If he was honest, she was like him in his first year. They couldn't underestimate her. Thankfully, she was still young enough and infatuated enough that most people would dismiss any claims she made about him, but that was no reason to give her the information to make those claims at all. Better to just be careful and keep her attention occupied with more important things.

Mr Weasley was at the Ministry despite it being a weekend in order to file a report with Kingsley. The Auror hadn't let Pettigrew out of his sight, according to a rushed note that arrived through the fireplace at midday, though he was encountering some difficulties getting their superiors to acknowledge who they had found.

There was a lot of tension in the Weasley household, despite the slime-bombs that caught Harry and Hermione separately as they helped de-gnome the garden. Ron had a chuckle, and Ginny looked at Hermione's sloppy clothes with barely-hidden approval, but the humour didn't last long. Mrs Weasley must have sensed the tension too, because she kept everyone busy doing chores and eating.

In the evening, Harry found himself lounging on the couch in the living room, absently making his wand slip into his hand and then back into its sheath. Ron was watching from an armchair, resting his chin on the armrest and letting his arm dangle.

"Did you like the cake we sent you?" said Ron.

Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off his wand. "It was fantastic. I probably would've died of starvation if you hadn't sent it."

Ron snorted softly. "You don't have to talk it up, you know. We can both see that Neville's present was better."

"Ron, seriously?" Harry sheathed his wand one last time and took off his glasses before rubbing his eyes. "Being allowed to come here is the best gift you could've given me. If you'd met the Dursleys, you'd understand." When he only got a grunt for a reply, Harry replaced his glasses and turned to face Ron. "What's bothering you?"

Ron grimaced. "Nothing really… it's just, last year you saved my arse so many times."

"Huh? When?"

"The duel at the lake, for one."

"You shielded yourself just fine."

"Come on, Harry," Ron muttered, face flushing. "We both know you took the brunt of the attack. I just blocked a couple of strays."

"Why do you keep putting yourself down?" Harry growled. "You held your shield against the Slytherins, and that's all that matters."

"Second, when you got hurt and we found out that you were the only reason we weren't being hexed in the corridors."

"It probably wasn't because of me. The Slytherins just saw two targets instead of three and decided they had a better chance of winning."

"Nope, some of them gloated about you not being there to save us."

Harry reclined back on the couch. "Well… I still don't think just walking around with you counts as 'saving your arse'."

"The duelling class. Remember that Anthony guy who was firing off spells in every direction? You stopped him from fighting so stupidly and probably saved me a trip to the hospital wing."

"If I recall correctly, you beat him even while he was fighting like an idiot. Not to mention he was a few years older than you."

Ron's ears were bright red and he was sitting a bit straighter despite himself. "Alright, what about Scabbers then? On your first night here, you discovered something we missed for over a decade."

Harry grinned now that the tension had been released somewhat. "I suppose I'll take credit for that one, at least."

Hermione entered the living room carrying a black book. "Ron, is this yours?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, it is. I got it from the library."

"What are you studying Occlumency for? I thought you hated it." She sat down beside Harry and started flipping through the book.

Ron cleared his throat. "Cause I can't let myself be goaded into using my ring when I'm not in danger. I should have more control over myself."

"You still feel guilty about that? Look, it's fine," said Harry, exasperated.

"Maybe it's a good idea," said Hermione. "I mean, we were trying to teach you and Neville last year anyway, so if this is the motivation you needed, let's use it."

Before dinner, the Watchers of the Stone gathered in the orchard and sat in a circle. Ginny was watching from beside a tree near the house. "It's been a while since you two have practiced this, I'm guessing," said Hermione. Ron and Neville nodded.

"I like it, but there wasn't much use for it at my grans, and I just… forgot," said Neville.

"Same, but without the 'liking it' part," said Ron.

"That's fine. We're going to work pretty hard on Occlumency this year because if I'm honest, your training last year was all over the place. I'm surprised you learned as much as you did considering we'd sometimes go weeks without practicing." Hermione took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The others followed suit. "So let's start from the beginning again. It should still be fairly familiar. We'll practice every day until school starts."

The exercise began, with Harry and Hermione taking turns leading the instruction. This stage of Occlumency was rather calming. It involved little more than visualisation and breath control, something anyone could learn with enough patience. The true form of Occlumency stemmed from these gentle processes. Ron and Neville had only barely scratched the surface last year, but Harry could feel their new determination. The bond that their rings symbolised was the catalyst behind their change in attitude, he was sure.

When the sun started to set, they went inside for dinner. Mr Weasley arrived home halfway through, looking weary and worried. "Nightmare," he said, kissing Mrs Weasley on the cheek and sitting down. "Absolute nightmare."

"Any news, father?" asked Percy eagerly.

"Let him eat, Percy," Mrs Weasley scolded.

Mr Weasley spoke while he ate. "Filled in the report for Kingsley – had to do it right outside the cell with the 'suspect' in it. Kingsley won't leave him alone for a second in case someone tries to sweep this whole thing under the rug."

"They can't do that, Dad. There's proper procedure to go through, they'll need to put him on trial," said Percy.

"To some people, public opinion is worth more than justice, and that's all I'll say about that." Mr Weasley dug in.

Harry ate, but he was no longer hungry. Sooner or later, Kingsley wouldn't be able to guard Pettigrew, and the little rat would vanish. "Fudge wasn't even Minister when Sirius was imprisoned for killing Pettigrew," he mused out loud. "He could gain respect from the public by correcting the wrongs of the previous Minister."

"But the Ministry as a whole would lose favour for letting the bad decision happen in the first place, Harry," said Hermione. "Not to mention, an unpopular leader can be used to push controversial legislation."

"Because if public backlash is too strong, they can easily be replaced," Harry continued, getting her point. "Whereas an unpopular Ministry is much more difficult to fix. Hence, the cover-up." She nodded in agreement.

The Weasleys were looking at them oddly. Percy looked a bit shocked to discover other people interested in politics. Mr Weasley glanced between them, not noticing some steak juice dribbling from his fork onto his lap. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at this point, but good grief. Since when do twelve-year-olds have reasonable knowledge of politics?" he asked.

"We spent all of last month studying," explained Hermione. "Not just schoolwork, but anything in the wizarding world. There's still so much we don't know since we grew up with Muggles."

"It made sense that we should learn about our government," Harry added with a shrug.

"Told you they're geniuses, Dad," said Ron around a mouthful of potato. He and Neville hadn't stopped eating for a second.

After the table was cleared and the dishes were washing themselves in the sink, most of the Burrow inhabitants drifted up to their rooms to get ready for bed. Harry nodded to Hermione and they went over to Mrs Weasley, who was reading a book on the couch beside Mr Weasley.

"Mrs Weasley?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Do you mind if Harry and I go for a walk?"

Mrs Weasley looked at them with a little smile. "It's a little dark, don't you think?"

"Ah, Ron mentioned your late night excursions," Mr Weasley chuckled. "I think the moonlight is bright enough to not get lost. Just stay near the house."

Harry and Hermione stepped out into the brisk night air. Hermione immediately took his hand and snuggled closer as they walked, and he returned the gesture. If Mr and Mrs Weasley were watching from the window, they'd see nothing but an adorable young couple.

"The orchard," Harry said quietly.

"We'll have to be very quick."

They picked up their pace once the house was behind some trees and were almost running when they reached the orchard. They ducked behind a large bush and Disapparated.

The Hollow hadn't changed a bit. Malfoy's collection of sensitive information was still stacked neatly on the table. Harry dove straight in, searching for Fudge's profile. Hermione did one better and summoned it straight into her hands.

"He has a number of weak points, but apparently the most effective ones are his attending staff. He will cave to any pressure they give him, so if we control them, we'll control him. Just three should do it," she said. "Lucy Morris, Barnaby Slade, and Brian Oswald." She wrinkled her nose. "Umbridge is on here too, but I don't want to bother with her until we have to."

Harry summoned the necessary profiles and started reading. "Morris likes to gamble more than she makes. If her colleagues found out, they'd get her fired immediately. Apparently her position is highly sought-after."

"Slade has a long-term deal going with some Bulgarian traders where he looks the other way once in a while so that a 'special' shipment can enter the UK unnoticed," Hermione read over his shoulder. "He'll melt at the first sign that somebody knows."

"Oswald barely escaped an embarrassing trial for some things he did while intoxicated. He paid off a few people to keep his record clean. His particular job requires a perfect criminal record." Harry shook his head. "This is ridiculous. Is anyone at the Ministry not corrupt?"

"I think so, but they don't rise very high," Hermione replied.

"We know their weak points, but how do we approach them?"

"These profiles have their home addresses. We write an anonymous letter to each of them detailing what we know and what we want them to do in exchange for our discretion." Hermione sighed and conjured three pieces of parchment. "Quickly, now."

Harry tapped one piece, thinking about what he needed to inform Oswald of. Perfectly formed letters spread across the page. They weren't in his handwriting, so he felt no qualms about using it. Hermione did the same to the other two pages. "I'll take Oswald and Slade," said Harry.

One Disillusionment Charm later and Harry stood out the front of a two-story house with a large yard. This was clearly a well-off neighbourhood. He approached the door and slid Oswald's folded letter through the gap before Apparating away without hesitation. There was so very little time!

Back at the Hollow, Harry examined Slade's profile, squinting at the little picture of his house attached to the file. Harry focused as hard as he could and Apparated. The house before him looked like the one in the picture, just wetter. Wind and rain howled in the night as Harry splashed to the front door of a wide house on top of a hill.

Harry shivered as he slid the letter through the slot. Back at the Hollow, Hermione helped dry him thoroughly and they neatened the stacks of files again. After dispelling the Disillusionment Charms, it was time to go back.

They tried to look nonchalant as they snuggled close again and Apparated to the orchard. Without missing a step, they walked back towards the Burrow. Harry couldn't see his watch in the dark, so he fretted that they'd been gone for over an hour, even though it didn't feel that long.

Mrs Weasley met them halfway, bright light shining from her wand. "Oh, there you are. The orchard's a little too far from the house this late at night. Not that I don't think you're both capable, but it's just for my own peace of mind."

"Sorry, we lost track of time and just ended up there," said Harry, letting go of Hermione's hand as though embarrassed.

"I understand, dear. I was young once too, you know."


The midday Prophet brought some interesting news: Peter Pettigrew: Alive? Mr Weasley came home just to show it to everyone. "I don't know how Kingsley managed it, but suddenly his reports are being read and Pettigrew's name was added to the custody roster," he said cheerfully. "I honestly didn't expect things to go our way on this. Even Kingsley almost showed a glimmer of surprise when he found out."

"I knew proper procedure would win out in the end. None of this cover-up nonsense," sniffed Percy, deliberately not looking at Harry and Hermione.

"This goes against what we know of the Ministry," said Hermione disappointedly. "I really thought we understood this particular issue."

Mr Weasley shrugged. "To be honest, I agreed with what you said last night. I can't speak openly about such things, but I still agreed. This sudden change does seem a little jarring compared to what I'm used to, but sometimes life can work that way. I'm not going to question our good fortune."

"So will that creep get thrown in Azkaban?" asked Ron hopefully.

"Maybe, but we've got a little way to go before we reach that stage. People are going to be questioning him and going through all the paperwork. Sooner or later though, they'll be forced to bring Sirius Black in for his trial." Mr Weasley breathed out heavily. "The papers are going to have a field day with that. It won't be a retrial, you see, it will be his only trial. The Ministry is going to be ripped to shreds over this, and I can't help but feel that we deserve it."

"But we don't know if Sirius Black really did kill those Muggles or not. Just because Pettigrew somehow survived doesn't mean Black isn't a mass murderer," Percy reminded them.

"Well the case won't be closed if there's any doubt this time. The only thing worse than sending the wrong man to prison is sending him twice," said Hermione. Mr Weasley nodded.

The day's Occlumency lesson soon followed, on the basis that calming themselves down while they were excited by the news was good practice. Harry settled in to a nice routine that was rather relaxing after the events of the previous month. Days slipped by without any further developments with Sirius, but he was just happy that something was finally happening. He began entertaining fantasies of leaving the Dursleys and living with Sirius at Grimmauld Place like they'd once hoped for.

Sharing a room (and a bed) with Ron and Neville was very cramped, especially with their trunks lying around. Hermione said that sharing with Ginny wasn't getting any easier, despite her best efforts to befriend her. Ginny was simply far too infatuated to be able to put up with anything from Hermione. Harry had occasionally walked in on her in the middle of an insulting rant to the twins or her mother. She always clammed up and bolted from the room before he could say anything.

On one lazy day, Harry, Ron and Neville were in Ron's bedroom, feeling full after a big lunch. Harry was prowling around the masses of dirty clothes looking for a shirt. Ron was reading the Occlumency book on his bed with more focus than Harry had ever seen from him at school. The mistake with the rings seemed to have been a real turning point for him.

"Have either of you seen any of my shirts?" asked Harry, rifling through his trunk.

"I think Mum took some stuff for washing," replied Ron. Neville shrugged.

Harry sighed. "I don't suppose either of you feel like going down to the laundry to grab a shirt for me?"

Ron chuckled and turned a page. Neville was distracted reading a poster. "Just go," said Ron. "Give Ginny and Hermione a show."

"Thanks," Harry said dryly.

Wearing nothing but his trousers and bracers, he left Ron's room and descended to the ground floor. He could hear the twins mocking Percy about something in the living room, so he quietly took a shortcut through the kitchen to the laundry room. As luck had it, all three females in the house were already in there. Hermione had probably offered to help sort some clothes, while Ginny was irritably scrubbing at a mud-stained jacket.

"Er, could I just grab one of my shirts, Mrs Weasley?" asked Harry. Hermione glanced at him and smirked before getting back to work. Her cheekiness was getting out of hand.

"Oh, didn't I leave you one?" said Mrs Weasley, turning away from a basket of socks. She gasped suddenly, as did Ginny, whose face immediately went red. "What's happened to you, dear?"

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Good grief, your shoulder! And those marks on your chest!" Mrs Weasley abandoned the socks and came over to him with her wand drawn.

"It's nothing. Just stuff from last year," he said quickly, waving away her wand.

She of course wouldn't be so easily dissuaded. "This one on your shoulder looks recent. Goodness, what caused a burn like that?"

"Getting into trouble, most likely," tutted Hermione disapprovingly. He wanted to shake her.

"Tea," he said. "I must have splashed some boiling water on myself while making tea for the Dursleys. It doesn't hurt, really, it's fine – ow!" Mrs Weasley prodded the burn with her wand.

"Doesn't hurt, does it? Oh, you're just like the boys… it's not manly to pretend you aren't hurt, you know!" Harry felt the tingle of medical spells wash over him. "Maybe we should take you to St Mungo's just in case… yes, that would be the right thing to do. Imagine if your aunt and uncle found out, oh, they'd think we're terrible people."

"They'd probably complain that I didn't burn my face as well," muttered Harry as he was pulled out of the laundry room, which was getting a little cramped. "Look, Mrs Weasley, I appreciate your concern, I really do, but it's not that bad. I'd rather avoid another trip to St Mungo's if at all possible."

Mrs Weasley finally stopped fussing. "But it's such a nasty burn… never seen boiling water leave that kind of mark, not in all my days."

"It hurts less than the scars on my chest did when they discharged me last time. I barely notice it, trust me."

"Well, I'm going to put a salve on there and bandage it too."

Harry decided there was no point arguing further, and allowed his shoulder to be slathered in green goo before being covered in far more bandages than were necessary. When it was finally over, Hermione tossed him a shirt that he recognised as the same one he'd worn when he got the scar in the first place. Her bright smile told him it wasn't an accident, and he filled his head with unamused thoughts.

Ginny continued to scrub at the jacket while facing away, even though Harry was sure it was cleaner than it had ever been. It was… strange being around her. He honestly felt the same as he did the first time around. Her crush on him was a little awkward, but it didn't inspire any romantic feelings. She was so young and so different to the Ginny he'd loved; it was hard to see them as the same person.

There was only a week left of the holidays when The Daily Prophet finally had an update on the case.

PETTIGREW SPEAKS

In the first press release since the startling revelation that Peter Pettigrew, thought to have been killed by mass-murderer Sirius Black, is still alive, the man himself has made a statement regarding his disappearance.

Pettigrew claims that he was stalked by Sirius Black immediately after the murderer betrayed the location of James and Lily Potter to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. "Black was insane and had a murderous look in his eyes," according to Pettigrew. When cornered on a Muggle street by Black, Pettigrew says he knew the only way to stop Black from hunting him was to fake his death.

Pettigrew cut off his finger and turned into a rat when Sirius cast his deadly spell, but claims there were some unintended side-effects. Dazed and confused, Pettigrew says he doesn't remember much from that point onwards, and believes the spell had addled his senses so he believed he was a real rat.

Eventually, he ended up as the pet of the Weasley family. When he was forcibly reverted to his human form, he claims his senses returned to him and he panicked, resulting in his arrest. Now in Ministry custody, he says he is happy to finally think like a human again, and praises the actions of the Weasley family for giving him his life back.

This statement raises several unanswered questions that the Aurors are investigating – chiefly of which is the fact that Pettigrew is an unregistered Animagus, a crime typically punished with a sentence in Azkaban. Whether such punishment will be excused in light of Pettigrew's extenuating circumstances remains to be seen.

"That explains that," said Percy smartly. "It's not as bad as it seemed. He really thought he was a rat for the last eleven years."

"Do you even have the capacity for critical thought, Percy?" Harry said angrily. "Or do you just believe everything everyone tells you without question?" Percy recoiled, looking indignant.

"Harry's right," said Hermione. "Pettigrew's story doesn't make sense. He must be preying on people's sympathy to try and get released early, because he doesn't want to be forced into a trial with Sirius."

"Well of course he doesn't," said Percy, "The man killed a dozen people with one spell! Who would want to be in a trial with him?"

"You seem very intent on defending Pettigrew." Harry rounded on him.

"You seem very intent on attacking him when we don't even know the full story!" Percy replied forcefully.

They glared at each other until Mr Weasley put a hand on each of their shoulders. "Let's just hold our opinions until the trial," he said firmly. "There's no point flying off the handle when we don't know what we're dealing with."


With only a few days left before school started, Harry was feeling increasingly impatient at the lack of progress with Sirius. According to the papers, the Ministry was still investigating Pettigrew, but the articles were now coming few and far between as the public eye shifted onto other topics. Harry and Hermione were running out of time to work with; once back at Hogwarts, it would be much harder to fight for Sirius.

Harry dressed and readied himself alongside a lethargic Ron and anxious Neville. Today they were going to Diagon Alley to pick up their new supplies – and some new wands, too. In Ginny's case, her first wand. She was so excited that she mispronounced Diagon Alley when using the Floo powder and ended up in an old witch's apartment above a cauldron store.

Once the group had been reunited, they made their way to Gringotts. The Weasley vault was about as empty as Harry remembered, which made the subsequent trips to the Longbottom and Potter vaults a little awkward. Even when Neville tried to engage Ron in their usual mindless Quidditch banter, he still looked uncomfortable. Harry just beared it. Considering the scope of the problems he and Hermione faced, this just wasn't important.

As they approached Ollivander's, Mrs Weasley stopped in the street. "Now, while Ginny and I are buying her wand, why don't the rest of you go to Flourish and Blotts for your new books?"

"I need to get a new wand as well," said Neville.

Ron swallowed audibly. "Same here."

"And I'm paying for both of them," Harry finished.

Mrs Weasley blinked. "But you already have a wand, dear," she said to Ron.

"It's not really my wand, is it? It used to be Charlie's before he got his own."

"Yes, well, it works perfectly fine, doesn't it?"

"Up to a point, yeah." Ron seemed to gather his courage. "But I'll never reach my true potential if don't have my own wand. I felt it last year; there was a wall I couldn't get past no matter how hard I tried."

"Still – Harry, it's very nice of you to offer – very nice – but I can't allow you to spend your money like this."

"My hands are tied, Mrs Weasley," said Harry with a shrug. "Ron's a member of the advance class of the self-defence club Hermione and I run at school. It's part of the rules that I have to provide him and Neville with new wands."

They ended up going into Ollivander's with Mrs Weasley pursing her lips and fidgeting, as though stopping herself from outright forbidding Harry from paying. Ginny got her wand first, though she almost dropped it when she noticed Harry smiling at her. He remembered how he'd felt when he got his wand.

"Mr Potter!" said Ollivander as Mrs Weasley bustled Ginny away from the counter. "I didn't expect to see you here again. You are not looking for a new wand, are you? Yours was such a perfect fit… I could not bear to match you with another."

"No, Mr Ollivander, my wand is fine. I'm here for my friends," Harry replied politely. Ollivander wasn't a bad man, but he was… odd when it came to wands.

Ron went first, receiving a wand of willow and unicorn tail hair. Harry couldn't remember if it was the same one he had in the future. Ron was delighted but fighting hard not to show it as he put the wand away. Harry quietly slipped the payment over the counter and nodded to Neville.

Neville took longer to be chosen by a wand, but when he was, there was no mistaking it. A sudden wind sent everyone's clothes flapping and knocked over a step ladder. "Some are more vocal than others, yes…" Ollivander looked pleased despite the disarray his shop was in. While Neville and Ron compared their new wands (Mrs Weasley just rolled her eyes), Harry paid for Neville before being struck by a thought.

"Mr Ollivander," he said quietly, "Do wands have souls?"

The wandmaker gave him a curious look. "Any interesting query, Mr Potter, and heavily debated among those learned in wandlore. What would bring you to ask such a thing?"

Oh, I just traversed the time-stream with my friend and I noticed we were holding our wands despite having no physical forms. Out loud, Harry said, "Academic curiosity."

"Ah." Ollivander lost a little of his enthusiasm. "As I said, the issue is hotly debated. It is suggested by some that due to the partial sentience of wands that they must possess some form of soul… but it is suggested by others that they are still, in essence, inanimate objects, not creatures, and therefore would not have souls."

"Which do you believe?"

There was a glint in Ollivander's eyes. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Potter."

Harry left the store feeling thoughtful. He hadn't thought much about the time-stream, but for some reason seeing his friends' new wands jolted the memory to the front of his mind. During those impossible (moments?) where he and Hermione waded through Time itself, they had both been carrying their wands. How could that be?

"Harry?" Ron nudged him and Harry realised he had stopped walking in the middle of the street.

"Sorry, just thinking." The group started moving again. Ginny was staring at him from behind Mrs Weasley's dress.

"Listen, thanks for this," Ron whispered, wiggling his wand a bit. "I know you're just pretending about the advance class rules, but I'm going to pay you back someday."

"I'm not pretending. I'll buy a new wand for any member of the advance class that needs one."

Ron looked a bit annoyed and probably would have pressed the issue if Neville didn't distract him by accidentally shooting sparks from his wand. "I know it's nice having new wands," said Mrs Weasley warningly, "But you're not at school at the moment, so I think you should put them away."

The boys sheepishly did as they were told.


Ginny kept close to her mother's back as they walked. Ron, Neville, and Harry walked ahead talking about the 'self-defence' class they were all excited about. She watched Harry for as long as she dared, though she was beginning to recognise the signs that he knew she was watching. A slight tilt of his head and a quirk at the corner of his mouth was enough to make her duck behind Mum.

The last few weeks had been tumultuous. Every day, she seemed to find a new way to embarrass herself – if her brothers didn't do it for her. All of the courage she'd mustered to talk to him on the night Pettigrew was revealed had evaporated. She frequently lay awake at night cringing and groaning into her pillow as each awkward moment went through her mind.

How was Hermione so comfortable around him? How was anyone comfortable around him? Every time he was in the same room, she couldn't think about anything else. It was so stupid! The only thing Ginny envied about that bushy-haired stupid genius was her composure. And the way she walked like a princess, so graceful. She probably laughed on the inside every time Ginny stumbled over her own feet.

And then there was the time Harry just casually walked into the laundry without a shirt on! Her brothers did that sometimes, sure, but he was a guest! She did wonder where the scars all came from. Some were from the 'troll incident' they mentioned occasionally but never gave her the full details, but Harry had clearly been lying when he claimed his newest scar was from boiling water. Ginny had made a few phony excuses in her life – not as many as her brothers, of course – and she knew when someone was improvising. How did he really get such a burn? The Dursleys, maybe? She shivered at the thought. The more she heard about those Muggles, the less she liked them.

Diagon Alley bustled with students and parents buying school supplies. Ginny wondered how many of these kids would be her classmates this year. She hoped at least one of them would be friendly. With her wand clutched in both hands, Ginny took a deep breath and moved to walk beside her mother, rather than behind her. If any of these other kids were her future friends, she didn't want them to see her as afraid of anything.

Her new position exposed her to Harry's eyes, but she needed to be strong. Granted, he wasn't even looking back at her, but if he did, he wouldn't see her hiding. Maybe he'd think she'd matured a little now that she had a wand, and he'd realise Hermione was a bushy jerk and would leave her. Ginny giggled under her breath. Harry looked back at her for a split second and their eyes met. He smiled, then turned back to Neville and Ron. Why did he always do that? He would somehow sense she was looking at him, then give her that kind smile. What was he trying to say? It reminded her of the way a grown man would look at a small child. Friendly, but slightly patronising. Babies don't remember every adult that smiles at them, after all. I swear, if he starts making faces or tries to give me a raspberry, I'll give him a scar as big as I am.

As if he had the right to be pleasantly amused by her, anyway. She wasn't the one who just stopped walking and stared blankly like a fish. Ginny had heard everything Harry said to Ollivander, and none of it was interesting enough to make her act like that. He didn't even have the manners to be embarrassed about it! She would've added it to her list of cringe worthy moments if it was her.

They reached Flourish and Blotts, where Dad, Percy, the twins, and Hermione were waiting with the schoolbooks. Ginny watched out of the corner of her eye as Hermione shoved a pile of books into Harry's arms. "I bought you a present," Hermione said brightly, adding a small dark book to Harry's stack. Harry looked into Hermione's eyes for a long moment before smiling.

"A diary?" he said, flipping through the blank pages.

"Yes. It's second hand, but the last person who owned it only wrote their name. I hope you don't mind." Hermione shrugged sheepishly, but her eyes were sharp and focused. For that matter, Harry's were too. They were so weird!

"I love it. You should have warned me though, I didn't get you anything."

"My birthday's in a couple of weeks. You've got plenty of time to think it over."

Ginny looked down at her shoes. How much longer did Mum expect her to put up with this? It wasn't fair! All Hermione did was buy a crummy second-hand diary! How was that thoughtful or romantic in any way?

I wish I had a diary, she thought sullenly.

"Arthur!" A man with a shiny bald head and round body waddled up to the group. Dad turned and shook his hand.

"Wesley, all right are you?"

Wesley waggled a newspaper under Dad's nose. "Read this and ask me again."

Ginny tried to read it as well, but she was too short. A minute later, Dad shook his head in disbelief. "Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban," he said. Mum and Percy gasped, along with some passersby.

"That proves it then," said Percy after a moment. "An innocent man wouldn't run."

Harry bristled, and Ginny thought he was about to draw his wand when Hermione stepped in. "It proves nothing. For all we know, Fudge ordered a false release so they could 'accidentally' kill Black while he was supposedly escaping. If he's dead, he can't give evidence at a trial."

Percy scoffed. "Now you're just spouting conspiracy theories. The Ministry can't order such a thing. They'd be breaking their own laws."

"Not here," said Dad in a low voice. "People are starting to stare. Let's get back to the Burrow before chewing each other's heads off."

Ginny finally caught a glimpse of the front page as Dad tucked the paper under his arm. It showed a long-haired man screaming in rage. Why on earth would Harry defend him?


At the Burrow, Harry immediately packed his books away in his trunk, the diary among them. He had no intention of ever writing in it.

Sirius was free! Free, and being hunted again. Harry agreed with Hermione's theory – in fact, she had probably taken it from his mind the second he'd thought of it. Sirius didn't have the same reason for escaping as last time, which made him unpredictable. The papers had been talking about Pettigrew being alive, but how would Sirius have gotten a copy? Was he on his way to the Ministry right now, determined to slaughter Pettigrew?

"What's with you?" asked Neville, packing his own books away in a much calmer manner.

Ron dumped his carelessly into his trunk, hesitated, then knelt down to put them in order. "Yeah, why do you care what happens to Black?"

"He's my godfather," said Harry, fingering his sheathed wand. If he could track down Sirius, he could hide him from the Ministry while pushing for Pettigrew's trial. Veritaserum was too unreliable to be used in court, and memories could be fabricated, but there had to be some way to guarantee Pettigrew's conviction.

Ron and Neville were staring at him with their mouths open. "Your godfather is Sirius Black?!" exclaimed Ron.

"Yes."

"Blood hell. Why didn't you mention that earlier?"

"Would you go around shouting it at the top of your lungs?"

"Fair point, but still..." They exchanged glances. "Is that why you want him to be innocent?"

Harry decided not to reply.

After an early dinner, Harry and Hermione went for another walk through the orchard. The sun hadn't set yet, so they would likely have more time to work with than usual. Mrs Weasley always insisted on coming out to find them when it got too dark, no matter their assurances that they knew the way.

Once they were out of sight of the Burrow, they Apparated to the Hollow.

"We need to check on our people on the inside," said Hermione. "We should have gotten better results by now. If they're trying to kill Sirius to stop the trial, then Fudge is willing to do anything to avoid the public backlash."

"I'll check on Slade and Oswald," Harry said, camouflaging himself and Apparating to Slade's rain-slicked house on a hill. Someone was sitting on the front steps with their head in their hands. Harry approached carefully, recognising Slade's face from the profile.

The man looked up suddenly, peering through the thick rain. His eyes widened. "It's you, isn't it?" he said, just loud enough to be heard over the noise. Harry realised the rain was making him a bit visible despite the Disillusionment Charm, like a spectre in the night. "You sent that letter telling me to talk to Fudge about that Pettigrew bloke."

Harry said nothing, casting a Silencing Charm around both of them just in case somebody overheard.

"Listen, I don't know why you're doing this, and I don't want to," Slade said, his voice cracking. "But I pushed too hard, and now they're pushing back. I'm going to lose my job if I don't drop it." He shook his head. "I have my family to think about, here! That's the only reason I let those Bulgarians… you know… I just want to keep my boys safe and fed." Slade had tears streaking down his face along with the raindrops. "Either way, no matter who I obey, I'll lose it all. Please, sir, I don't know who you are, but please don't make me keep pushing for a trial."

Harry silently cast a voice-distorting charm before replying. "Who is pushing you to drop it?" His voice came out deeper and tinged with a radio static-like sound. It was downright ominous.

Slade flinched. "Umbridge, sir, Dolores Umbridge and a few other senior members. They have Fudge's ear and most of his authority."

"You will continue to push for a trial," said Harry. "We will attend to the opposition. Do this, and you will have your freedom." He Apparated back to the Hollow, feeling a little ill about the whole thing.

Next was Oswald's two-story house in a rich neighbourhood. The second he took a step towards the front door, he felt an alarm go off. The letter slot in the door shot a red bolt of light at him, but he dodged reflexively. The door burst open and Oswald was there, greying hair and dark skin, his wand raised angrily as he looked around for the trespasser.

"Not this time, you devils! I won't be your tool!" Oswald roared.

Harry disarmed him and snatched the wand out of the air. Oswald suddenly looked a lot less confident. "You will insist that Pettigrew receives a trial," said Harry in his strange, distorted voice.

Oswald recoiled slightly. "If a trial reveals any wrongdoing on the Ministry's part, the whole cabinet will be reshuffled. I worked for over a decade to get this position!"

"Better to lose your position but remain high in the Ministry than to lose it all. Do you think Rita Skeeter would enjoy reading about your indiscretions?"

"T-that was in the past," mumbled Oswald, "Years ago… barely even remember it…" Harry remained silent. "Fine. No matter what, I'm going to fall a long way. Umbridge and her cronies are moving on anyone who even thinks about supporting a trial."

"She won't bother you," Harry whispered, but it came out as a low hiss. "Do this, and you'll be freed."

Oswald's terrified look was the last thing Harry saw before he tossed the extra wand to the ground and Apparated to the Hollow.

Hermione looked up as he appeared. "I just had to coerce Morris while she was on her second bottle of cooking sherry," she said grimly.

"I just," Harry began before realising the voice-distortion spell was still in effect. He dispelled it and cleared his throat. "I just had to deal with a crying family man and a trapped front door."

Hermione whistled. "Okay, you win."

"This feels awful." Harry dropped into a chair.

"I know it does, but we're doing this all for Sirius. And besides, these are the kind of people who won't do what's right without being forced into it. I don't have much sympathy for them."

"Umbridge needs to be dealt with." Harry got up and started to pace.

"Agreed. I'm not certain on the right path to take, though."

With a barely-suppressed groan of annoyance, Harry checked his watch. "We'll have to do it tomorrow. It'll be dark at the Burrow by now, and Mrs Weasley's probably looking for us."

"Alright, but I need you to do something first. I gave you the diary today, remember?"

"Of course I do. So you need me to plant a false memory of you buying the diary from a street vendor?"

"Yes."

"Is it really necessary?" Harry pressed his wand against her forehead.

"I'd rather have it than not. You need to put a lot of power into it, or it will be obvious if someone views it in a Penseive."

Harry arranged the scene in his mind, keeping the vendor's face average in every way. Hermione was walking with Mr Weasley and everyone when she fell behind and saw the diary among his wares. She bought it and hurried to catch up, with nobody even noticing her absence. It was simple, but Harry was determined to make it powerful enough to withstand all but the most brutal of memory-breaking.

When he lowered his wand, Hermione furrowed her brow. "Yes, I think it fits fairly well… you left the beginning and end a little fuzzy so it blends into my real memories, that was good thinking… yes, this is perfect."

"Thanks, Professor."


The news went from bad to worse in the morning. Hermione had just finished dressing when Ginny sat up in bed behind her. "I saw you vanish last night," she said quietly.

Hermione didn't pause as she brushed her hair. "Hm?"

"You and Harry went into the orchard after dinner. I could see you from here." Ginny rubbed sleep from her eyes and gestured to the window.

"Yes, we like going on an evening stroll."

"You didn't stroll. You stopped next to a tree and then vanished."

Hermione put the brush down and folded her arms. "Harry happens to own a very effective invisibility cloak, and we both share the desire for privacy."

"But when you were out there, Ron and Neville were messing around with the cloak in here, trying to find each other and stuff. I don't think they asked Harry, which is probably why you didn't know and just tried to lie to me," said Ginny accusingly.

Hermione suppressed an annoyed sigh. Ginny was too perceptive for her own good. Hermione let her Legilimency slip into Ginny's unprotected mind, seeing the confusion and suspicion held within the girl. Jealousy ran rampant, as expected, as well as strong infatuation whenever she thought of Harry.

"I'd be more inclined to tell the truth if you didn't spend every moment insulting me whenever Harry and I aren't nearby," said Hermione politely.

"Would you be more inclined if I go tell Mum that you were doing magic outside of school?" Ginny shot back, not even hiding her dislike anymore.

Hermione huffed. "I'm sure she'll be very surprised to hear another accusation about me. Especially one that's actually less believable than the rest."

"I know what I saw. I won't forget. Harry mentioned a Penseive when he was talking about Pettigrew before, and I asked Mum what they are. As soon as I can show someone you two were breaking the rules, I will." Ginny didn't look very shy and cute at the moment.

"Unless?"

"Unless you tell me what you were doing."

Hermione drew her wand. "I'd rather not." Obliviate! Ginny stared blankly for a few seconds. "Ginny?" asked Hermione. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I…" the girl shook her head. "I'm fine." She yawned widely.

"Can I ask you something, then?"

Ginny eyed her suspiciously. "What?"

"Why don't you like me? Did I do something to annoy you?" Hermione tried to make her voice sound a little hurt.

"No," Ginny replied flatly, starting to get dressed. "Can I have some privacy?"

Hermione sighed and left the room. It was worth a shot. She knew Harry simply assumed Ginny would be part of the group at Hogwarts, but as things were now, Ginny would probably prefer to be in Slytherin. To think that shy little girl was willing to blackmail her at the drop of a hat… Well, Hermione was glad she tried. That memory wouldn't come back to haunt them later. They'd need to be more careful when going to the orchard in the evening, though.

Harry came down the stairs at that moment, and favoured her with a kiss on the cheek before continuing on to the kitchen. Hermione couldn't help the pleased smile that had appeared on her face the moment she caught a look at his thoughts. He was still a bit sleepy, so his thoughts were fuzzy, but that only made them sweeter in her opinion. They were just simple things, like Hermione looks cute, and I want to hold her, and other such things. Harry would never admit to being so sappy in his head, and she had no intention of calling him out on it. It was like their little secret.

And so, despite everything, she was in a good mood when she joined Harry for breakfast. Only Mr Weasley was up this early, so they helped him cook some bacon, eggs, and toast. "I wish my own kids did this once in a while," he chuckled as Hermione poured him some tea. "Fred and George tried to make tea for me once, but I didn't trust it when I saw Percy's eyebrows turning blue."

While they ate, Mr Weasley skimmed through the Daily Prophet, looking unimpressed. "I wouldn't read this issue if I were you, Harry."

"I'm guessing Fudge has declared Sirius' escape as a sign of guilt?" Harry said with clearly suppressed annoyance.

"Afraid so. Though really, it's a bit much to expect anyone to turn down a chance for freedom if they're trapped in Azkaban – good or evil, nobody wants to be there."

"I'm sure the truth will come out eventually." Hermione spoke as though she was just joining in the conversation, but her eyes were on Harry. He was so worried about Sirius, it broke her heart.

"Regardless of what happens to Black, I want that Pettigrew to explain himself a bit better. Disoriented, he said. For eleven years, no less!" Mr Weasley shook his head. "I've worked with Animagi before, and they've never mentioned forgetting what species they really are."

"His story will fall apart under scrutiny. That's why they're trying to avoid a trial," said Hermione.

"I wonder where Sirius is right now," Harry said quietly.

"As far from the wizarding world as possible, I'd expect," said Mr Weasley, turning a page. "Probably halfway around the world by now."

Hermione suddenly noticed something in Harry's memories that made her drop her fork. You told Ron and Neville that Sirius is your godfather? She slipped her thoughts into his mind on a strand of Legilimency.

Harry looked at her. I couldn't think of a better way of explaining why I was so invested in the case, he said inside his head.

We need to think of a logical reason for you to know who your godfather is. Maybe the Dursleys told you?

That won't last long under scrutiny. I have the photo album Hagrid gave me last year – there are a couple of wedding pictures in there with Sirius. I could just say I made a deduction.

Hermione nodded slightly, still not quite satisfied. Harry was a quick thinker, but his impatience occasionally caused little problems they didn't need. She'd just have to trust him not to make it necessary to Obliviate the whole Weasley family.


The daily Occlumency session was going well. Harry was leading everyone through the exercises so that Hermione could test them with her Legilimency. They had barely scratched the surface of combining magic with the thought processes, so Harry didn't think they'd stand any sort of chance against her. Sure enough, near the end of the exercises, she glanced at him and shook her head.

Ron and Neville were only kids, and while Ron was trying much harder than he had in the first year, they still had a lot of work to do. At the very least, Harry wanted them to be able to detect when someone tried to access their mind by the end of the first term. That way, they'd at least be able to look around for the interloper and find whoever's concentrating on them. Of course, Ron and Neville didn't know that was why they were being taught Occlumency. Neville liked it because it let him retreat from situations that made him uncomfortable, and Ron was only trying so hard now because he wanted more self-control. It didn't really matter what their personal reasons were; in the end, they would be protected from Dumbledore's snooping, Snape's invading, and Voldemort's domination.

As the session wound down, a thought struck him. He hadn't met a certain someone in Diagon Alley, nor had he heard Mrs Weasley mention him lately. "Who's our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" he asked. Hermione started, and he got the feeling she hadn't realised that particular difference.

"I'm… not sure," she said slowly, furrowing her brow.

"Well don't be too put-off," chuckled Ron. "There are bound to be some things you don't know."

"My gran said she heard Dumbledore sent for someone outside Britain," said Neville. "Probably couldn't find anyone here who wanted the job after what happened to Quirrell."

"Probably," Harry muttered. Why had Dumbledore chosen someone other than Lockhart? The Defence Against the Dark Arts booklist should have been a giveaway, but he just hadn't been thinking about it. Who was it? The jinx on the position was still in place, so whoever it was wouldn't be able to hold it for more than a year, but it was still weird to think it was someone other than Lockhart. Lupin, maybe?

"So how do you guys think we're doing?" asked Ron. "I mean, we've been practicing pretty much every day for the whole month, we must've made some progress."

"You're both getting better by the day, but Occlumency is difficult, and it will take time for your shields to develop," said Hermione absently, probably still thinking about the new Defence teacher.

Neville frowned. "How can you tell how strong our shields are? They're in our heads, aren't they?"

Harry leaned backwards and rested on his elbows in the grass, content to let Hermione contend with the foot in her mouth. She gave him a sharp look before responding. "I've been learning Legilimency to test your strength."

"You… wait, really?" choked Neville.

Ron's ears were pink. "Just to refresh my memory," he said conversationally, "That's the one that lets you read minds, right?" Hermione nodded. "So… you've been reading our minds to test our Occlumency?"

"I can test your shields without actually going inside," she said prissily. "I don't just spend all day rooting through your thoughts and memories, believe me." Ron and Neville looked slightly relieved, though they tried not to show it, but Harry could see the phrasing of her words left her a lot of room to move without technically lying. Not for the first time, he wondered just how often she read other people's minds.

"Have you gotten good enough to read Harry's mind yet?" asked Ron.

Hermione shrugged. "If he lets me, yes."

"Lets you?" Neville turned to Harry in shock. "Why on earth would you do that? It's your mind!"

Harry sat up with a sigh. "It's Hermione," he said simply. "I trust her with everything." He felt a spike of affection appear in his mind and pointedly avoided looking in Hermione's direction.

"Yeah, but still… isn't it weird?" Ron made a face.

"I'm used to it."

"How long have you been, uh, sharing your thoughts?"

Hermione got to her feet. "Alright, that's enough questions for today, students," she said, brushing twigs off her skirt.

"Just as well," said Neville, "I think we had an eavesdropper." He nodded at some of the trees nearby, and Harry turned in time to see a flash of red hair.

"Ginny," Ron growled. "She's always getting into other people's business."

"Do you think she heard anything about Legilimency?" asked Hermione, biting her lip.

"If she did, Mum and Dad will know in a few seconds."

"Fantastic."

But if Ginny did tell Mr and Mrs Weasley anything, they didn't bring it up at dinner, and Harry and Hermione were allowed on their usual evening walk through the orchard. The sun was about to set, so they didn't have a lot of time to work with, but Harry kept a determinedly casual pace. Hermione had mentally filled him in over dinner of the fact that Ginny had noticed their Apparition last night. Harry knew there was more to the story, but Hermione hadn't gone on.

With that in mind, they were very careful to pick out a place in the orchard that was completely out of sight of Ginny's window. Harry took them to the Hollow, where they immediately set about going through the files on the table.

"Here it is: Dolores Umbridge," said Hermione. After a quick scan, she laughed humourlessly. "There's nothing to blackmail her with. Apparently Lucius would just ask for a favour and she'd go along with it because they both wanted the same things."

"Somehow I'm not surprised," Harry muttered. "We need to stop her from pressuring the others into dropping Pettigrew's trial."

"I think there's only one way to do it without killing her," Hermione said cautiously. Umbridge might be almost a Death Eater, but she wasn't a target. If they started including non-Death Eaters in their assassinations, where would it end? Would they eventually go after every corrupt Ministry official? Every pure-blood supremacist? No, that wasn't what they were here for.

"The Imperius Curse," said Harry resolutely. "We'll need a way of contacting her to give orders once the curse is in place, too."

"Just like when Draco sent orders to Madam Rosmerta in our sixth year."

"Exactly."

"I did come up with the fake galleon communication idea in the first place, so I think it's time we reclaim it for a good purpose." Hermione coughed. "Good in the broad sense, that is."

"Where does Umbridge live?"

"London. Quite a nice place, too, though I suspect she wishes she had somewhere older and more prestigious." She showed him the picture on the file.

They prepared their Disillusionment Charms and held hands. A moment later, they stood before a gated house that was almost as tall as the Burrow. It dwarfed the houses beside it and looked to be of finer craftsmanship too. The street was quiet, but there were noises from the surrounding homes that spoke of people settling down to dinner with their families.

Harry began delving and quickly found some familiar spells. It seemed Umbridge had based her defences on those used on Malfoy manor, though hers were weaker and not nearly as old. They wouldn't post much of a threat, and Harry could feel to his right that Hermione was already working on breaking through them silently.

Suddenly, there was a pop just outside the gate, and Dolores Umbridge, pink coat and all, appeared. She raised her wand, likely to unlock the gate, when Harry's Imperius Curse reached her, tethering her mind to his will.

I forgot she'd be coming home from work around this time, Hermione's voice said apologetically.

Don't worry about it. At least we don't have to go inside.

Umbridge remained frozen with her wand drawn, waiting for orders. Harry felt a sick little thrill at the feeling.

Does she have any coins on her? asked Hermione.

Umbridge drew a little pink purse out and flicked a galleon over her shoulder into Hermione's waiting hands.

Give me a moment.

Harry kept watch on the windows of the Umbridge residence, as well as the street around them. There didn't appear to be any sign of someone watching, but then, it was foolish to assume safety at a time like this.

Two coins shot over to Umbridge and nestled inside her purse.

I've given her the real coin and a copy we can send orders to using this other copy. I've never performed a Protean Charm so quickly before! Hermione's mental voice sounded excited.

Harry didn't get side-tracked. I'll tell her to stop pressuring the others about dropping the Pettigrew trial and to check her coin frequently for further instructions. Sound good?

Yes, I think that's alright. If I think of any loopholes, we can update the spell tomorrow night. But once we're back at Hogwarts, we'll have to rely solely on the coin to control her.

Harry sent the instructions and watched as Umbridge calmly continued where she left off, opening the gate and entering her house. Hopefully it would be enough to keep Sirius safe for a little longer.


A/N: The group dynamic is a little weird this time around. They've managed to avoid most of Ron's inferiority complex by accidentally forcing him to become closer to Neville, who is on the same level; and by being so far above him in skill level that he doesn't think of Harry or Hermione as competitors, more like freaks of nature (in a good way, of course).

This leads to its own problems, which we saw a bit of in this chapter. Because Harry is so far above Ron, Ron finds himself seeking validation from Harry - hence his absurd comment about Neville's present being better than the cake Ron sent Harry. They're going through a weird time together, and Ron and Neville are going to grow differently than they did originally because of this.

Jeez, it's not often I actually put proper notes down here, is it? Hope you enjoyed the chapter!