Oh dear, I have not been on in ages! Sorry. Well, this is a bit rushed and crap, but you'll get the drift. Hope you enjoy! xx
Of course the Wizarding World was thrown into panic. Imitations of the Dark Mark had been a craze for rebellious teenager's which had quickly been crushed. The real Dark Mark on the other hand, had not been seen for years, and its appearance over the ruins of the Potter's house in Godric's Hollow was more than a joke.
Ginny had whimpered and clutched James closer to her when she found out, and that was saying something as she hardly ever showed fear. Less than half an hour later however, she was back to her normal self as desperate witches and wizards arrived on her doorstep frantic and asking to see Harry to see what he could do to save them.
'It's a nightmare.' Ron said, shaking his head as he stepped out of the fireplace, having just flooed to the living room. Trailing ash onto the rug and wooden floorboards, Ron picked up his nephew and gently began bouncing him up and down. 'Everyone at work is running to Harry, asking his advice on what to do next. I keep on hoping that it's just some stupid kids – a prank, but Harry's fairly certain that it's the real deal. He paused long enough to throw a concerned look at his sister. 'How you doing? Alright?'
Ginny nodded. 'Until we know exactly what's what, we can't do anything, and we've just got to deal with that fact and like it. How's Hermione?'
Ron grinned, bemused. 'Great. She didn't even flinch when I told her, just raised an eyebrow and said that she was surprised that it hadn't come sooner.' He dropped his voice as if at confession. 'I know it's weird, but I'm kinda glad for it, for the first time in months she seemed back to her normal self.'
Ginny nodded awkwardly. It was times like this that almost made her feel ashamed to be a mother while her brother and her friend were so bereaved. Finally, she cleared her throat. 'How's Harry?'
Ron looked grim. 'You know how he is, soldiering on, all for caring for other people who are coming up and crying to him. But he's really shaken up, I mean, it's a pretty big statement to cast it over his parent's house on the anniversary of their death, isn't it?'
'I'm worried for him.' Ginny admitted, nibbling her lower lip. 'It's like the caster has made their aims quite clear. Harry's next.'
'Of course he is.' Ron said, not unkindly. 'He's been who he is for nearly his whole life, and you knew that when you married him.'
'What are you implying?' Ginny said fiercely.
Ron grinned. 'Just checking that you're ready for a bumpy ride.'
'And check with Dawlish before that gets sent out, I don't want him whinging at me that he never gets informed about anything.' Hermione called over her shoulder to the tall pimply wizard in the purple robes who ran down the long corridor in the opposite direction. To the witch on her right, she handed over some of the enormous files with difficulty as she said, 'Take these down to Finnegan, he'll be expecting them no doubt, and tell him to set the Project A into motion. Once you're down there, go and see Fletchley and see how he's doing keeping The Prophet etc. under control. We don't want any rumours until they're needed. I'll be up seeing Shacklebolt, but I won't be there all day so don't necessarily expect to find me there.' The girl nodded and dashed off.
To the bemused looking work experience student who was quite in awe of everything that was happening, Hermione turned to them kindly and said. 'I think that everyone would probably like a cup of tea. Chip chop.' Once gone, Hermione made her way into the Minister's office.
It was a large circular room, with a domed ceiling that imitated the current alignment of the stars and the planets. In the centre stood a large carved mahogany desk filled with parchment and quills and ink, in a neat but frenzied order. Shacklebolt sat at the desk with a large frown etched into his forehead. When he saw Hermione however, he gave a big wide charming smile.
'Miss Granger.'
She placed the stack of folders on his desk where they wobbled precariously.
'Mrs Weasley,' she said reprovingly.
Kingsley laughed. 'An old man forgets. And I am afraid that Molly will always be in my heart the true Mrs Weasley.'
Hermione smiled. 'Hermione then.'
'Hermione, and so, to business. Who do we have?'
'I've narrowed it down.' Hermione said grimly – indicating the large pile. 'Some in my office were all for quizzing the cousins, friends of the main people suspected, but that will be a waste of time for now, and will only create more panic and suspicion that necessarily required. The ones here are the Death Eaters who walked free and their wives and children who are of age or who are at least of OWL level. That spell is tricky unless you have been carefully taught it.'
Kingsley nodded, deep in thought. 'Go on.'
'A lot of people will be calling for Nott,' Hermione continued, 'and while I don't think that we can rule him out, I don't think that we can be too over-eager. As you know, he was moved to St Mungo's a few weeks ago, seeing as he is losing his mind in his old age. It is possible that the spell and the location occurred to him and he said it, not really understanding the significance – from his health reports, I can gather that he is not able to do anything with a fully conscious mind, unless prompted to do so by someone else of a sane mind. I would also argue that the wards at St Mungo's would have been too strong against him.'
'Have someone question him anyway, just in case he might remember something about someone else.'
'Spinnett is already on the job, sir.'
Kingsley beamed at her.
'The other likely contender is Avery's son. He's seventeen and has motive – Harry put his dad behind bars, but whether or not he was old enough to learn the spell from Avery is another matter. Zabbini's on it now, sir.' She added as Kingsley opened his mouth to speak.
Again, Kingsley beamed.
'There is a third is the most likely suspects.' Hermione said, this time more hesitantly by far than any of the others. Cautiously, she gingerly pushed a file forwards. Kingsley glanced at the photograph. Two faces, pale and pointed with a flash of white hair and cold grey eyes in a haughty and proud expression.
'Lucius and Draco Malfoy.' She admitted.
Harry's protests could even be heard several feet away from his office. 'No.' He said loudly. 'You're not going.'
'Harry, I'm perfectly calpable-'
'I don't care. It's not happening. I'll go.'
'Harry, you're swamped here as it is; you don't need much more of your time wasted.'
She had a point. Harry scowled at her. He sat at his desk surrounded by torn open envelopes, letters, pamphlets, files concerning the events of Death Eaters over the past fifty years or so.
'Then I'll send someone else.' He said crossly, fiercely signing his signature on various articles that needed his approval and pushing his cup of tea to cover the photo of Bellatrix Lestrange who was currently blowing kisses at him. 'Abbott's a waste of space here. He can go.'
Hermione folded her arms. 'Why are you so against me going?' She said fiercely. 'I'm qualified. I'm experienced.'
'It's not that.' Harry said quietly, glancing away from her face.
The answer stood unspoken in their air between them. Flushed, Hermione pulled at her robes so that Harry could see the long gleaming silver scar on her neck and then rolled up her sleeve where Mudblood flashed tauntingly at them.
'My battle scars.' She attempted to say airily, though her voice wobbled. 'We all have them, not just you. I've got loads elsewhere too. It doesn't stop me.'
'For God's sake, Hermione.' Harry exploded. 'I'm trying to do you a favour, I don't want you to return to Malfoy Manor – too many awful things have happened in there to you.'
'Only the one.' She scoffed.
But it didn't escape her notice that Harry didn't meet her eyes.
'Harry, what-'
'Hermione.' It was a plea. 'Don't. Don't go.'
For a moment she was ready to give in.
For a moment.
'See you in a bit, Harry.' And with that she gave him a wink and disapparated.
'Fuck.'
When she got to the destination she was fuming. She was sick to the teeth of being treated like a frail little girl. She used to think that Ron was bad, but Harry since the end of the Battle of Hogwarts had grown increasingly over-protective.
At one point she had even asked Ginny if Harry was like that around her. Instead she was only met with a confused, 'no?' Hermione sighed, she'd think on it later. Now, she had work to do.
Lucius Malfoy's bail terms had included the removal of various spells and defences that had previously kept the Manor. Without its large black gates, Hermione at least thought it looked friendlier, but she still shivered as she walked down the long gravelled path.
Her feet were scraping along the floor, her body under hard grip of Scabior as she was dragged towards the entrance of the Manor. She shuddered as one of Fenir Greyback's hands found her and travelled down her lower stomach, the other claw on her breast, and then he put his mouth to her neck and let out a low moan.
Lucius Malfoy answered the door in a black velvet travelling cloak. He did not look at all surprised to see her.
'Good afternoon, Mr Malfoy.' Hermione said, feeling foolish. This was a man old enough to be her father, whom she had first encountered looking upon her disdainfully as she was buying schoolbooks for her second year. 'May I come in?'
He stood aside politely and beckoned her in. The Entrance Hall was enormous and seemed to be a palace of crystal with an ornate fireplace of diamond and a large grand white marble staircase. On first look it was beautiful, but seeing so many reflections in the jewels unnerved her. It was like looking into the shadows of the past.
Lucius beckoned her down some more corridors, and through doorways – so many she thought that she might get lost, and eventually they ended up in a small room, which was by far less intimidating, with oak wood walls and furnished with green velvet.
Lucius bid her to sit by the desk, while he himself stood.
'Mr Malfoy, would it be alright to question you?'
Lucius nodded, but other than that gave no reply.
Hermione smiled as warm as she could in the circumstances. 'Please, sit. We may be here for a while.'
Only now did Lucius look surprised. 'You're not taking me to Azkaban?'
Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'Do you want to be taken to Azkaban?'
He looked relieved. 'Forgive me,' he half stammered, removing his travelling cloak and sinking into the chair opposite. I had thought that I was going to be taken away again.'
'If you're innocent, then you have nothing to fear.' Hermione said gently. 'Let's begin with the questioning, shall we?'
Lucius nodded. 'I- I can't thank you enough.'
There was a pause. Hermione knew as to what he was referring to. Although Harry had fought for the Malfoy family to be pardoned, there was still an uproar – particularly when, after being released from prison, Lucius had made a comment that showed that the majority of his ideals had not changed.
The Wizarding World had called for his blood. Hermione Granger had called for justice.
At nineteen years old, Hermione had stood before the court and had stunned everyone by defending him. 'Let him talk to someone.' She had appealed. 'He has been raised like this – it's not his fault. If his behaviour doesn't change then maybe I'll have to accept that he's a lost cause, but until then, I won't.' She'd spoken to them fiercely, so fiercely, this young girl to these older and much more experienced witches and wizards, and yet they indulged her.
At first, Lucius was sceptical. Talk to this wizard? About what? About his life apparently. But this wizard was clever. Soon, Lucius was telling him things that he'd never told anyone, how he was whipped at the age of five for befriending a muggle boy, how he would be given the choice to be tortured himself under the Cruciartus Curse or to perform it on some nameless muggle who would later have their minds obliverated. Lucius revealed that his parents taught him that muggles were monsters, and he had later come to see that when his mother was stabbed by one of them for her bag when he was eight. Soon, the wizard learned that Lucius Malfoy had led a very sad and sorry life. Shortly after that, he helped him to change his opinions and ideals, and turn him into an altogether happier person.
And for that, Lucius was eternally grateful to Hermione.
'Where were you on the 31st of October at thirteen minutes to midnight?'
Her voice brought him back to the present. He smiled. 'That's very precise.'
She had the grace to smile back.
'I was in bed.' Lucius said truthfully. 'My wife, Narcissa, can confirm this – although we were both asleep by that time.'
'What time did you go to bed?'
'Around ten, we're old folks now. We can't stay up much longer than that; we're not like you young kids anymore.'
The questioning went on for well over an hour, as well as an examination of his wand.
Next she interviewed Narcissa whose, like her husbands, blonde hair had turned to shocking white and who now had dark shadows under her fearful eyes.
Then came Draco, the pair awkwardly trying to make conversation – he was now married and his wife pregnant. By the end of the three interviews, Hermione was fully satisfied that none of the Malfoy's had conjured the Dark Mark. They were more terrified than most about the possibility of a new uprising.
'Um, Hermione.' Draco said as she was about to leave. 'I heard that there's a place going in the Department of International Wizard Collaborations.' He flushed. 'I know that I really don't deserve your kindness – or anyone else for that matter, but if you could hand in my CV for me, then-' he tailed off.
Some would have laughed at him, even taunted him. The great Draco Malfoy, now weak and fallen.
Hermione, on the other hand, admired him. What he'd just asked for took a lot of guts, bearing in mind who he used to be and who she now was. As far as she was concerned, Draco Malfoy's only problem was being a prat when he was younger – something that many people are.
'Sure.' She said, and his face cracked into an enormous grin.
'Thanks.' He gabbled. 'Really, thanks. Come and wait in here, I'll run up and go and get it. Thank you so much.'
She was led into another room and bid to wait there, while Draco bounded up some steps and out of sight.
Hermione looked around. In contrast to its grand entrance hall, this part of the building was made entirely from black marble, and despite its many candles, Hermione felt over-whelmed in darkness and trapped.
She glanced through one doorway and was very nearly violently sick all over the floor. It was instantly recognizable as the room where she'd been tortured.
It was many years ago now, and yet she could feel that same knot in her stomach as if it were happening right now.
Hermione turned her head away and her attention to another more ajar door.
Her heart stopped.
She could feel him. The man who had tortured her dreams at night. He was dragging her by the hair as she fought him off, screaming in her face. She moved in an ungainly manner, not because of their wrestling, but because underneath her blood sodden robes, her stomach was swollen.
Hermione fainted.
When she came to, the first thing in her vision was the worried face of Draco Malfoy.
'Shh, she's awake.' He had snapped to his panicked bickering parents. To her he was more sympathetic, but awkward at the same time. 'Um, you alright?'
'Yeah.' Hermione tried to give a shaky little laugh. Funny turn, that's all.'
Narcissa's face replaced Draco's. 'Has this ever happened before?'
'Yeah,' Hermione said absent-mindedly, 'yeah, when I was pr-' she tailed off.
The Malfoy's had clearly read the Daily Prophet nearly over a year ago. Their grim faces offered sympathy.
Draco helped Hermione up as she smiled at him. 'Anyway,' she said, trying to inject some brightness into her voice, 'I best be getting back to work. I'll hand your application in for you too, Draco, and put in a good word for you.'
Draco smiled gratefully as he showed her out of the door.
Meanwhile, his parents exchanged worried glances.
Harry wasn't best pleased with her when Hermione returned, but upon seeing her so white-faced, he rushed to her and said urgently. 'What is it? What's wrong?'
Hermione batted him away. 'I'm fine, Harry. I just fainted, that's all.'
'You what?'
'Fainted, Harry. It's when you go unconscious for a period of time.'
'Oh, haha.' Harry snapped sarcastically. He grabbed her arm and reeled her around to face him. 'Why did you faint, Hermione?'
His green eyes bore intently into hers. They invited a sense of understand, almost a longing for them to share a secret. But it was just her over-worked mind having stressful and horrific visions.
'It was too hot in the room'
It didn't go unnoticed by Harry that she didn't meet his eyes.
Within weeks of the Dark Mark appearing, the new Death Eaters seemed back to their old tricks again. Murders were becoming more common than rain and the London air was thick with the despair of Dementors – though nobody ever came across one. Nor did anyone come across an actual Death Eater. At least, nobody who came out alive at the end of it.
Harry wasn't surprised at the backlash at the new order of things. His only surprise was that it had taken them so long to organise. But what an organisation it had turned into. This was no schoolboy group, this was a real army – one that Voldemort himself would have been proud of.
What made matters worse, was that in the past few months the muggleborns who had fled from Voldemort had all pretty much returned. Now, there seemed to be a bigger panic than ever. Nobody knew whether to flee again or to stay and fight. And everyone was looking to Harry for an answer.
The Army was annoyingly clever. They kept their tracks well covered; there had been no arrests or suspects. It was by far a tidier job than anything that Harry had ever seen before.
Ron had been training up the more junior Aurors for some months now, and now was the perfect opportunity for them to show their skills. Certainly, Harry was very pleased with the job that Ron had done on them – particularly with those who had started off with the gracefulness of Neville Longbottom.
As promised, Hermione had handed in Draco's application and he had fought off the competition and managed to get the job. Although initially treated with suspicion – soon even the most anti-Death Eaters had to begrudgingly admit that Draco was doing an excellent job and that his inside knowledge of these kinds of operations was invaluable.
Number 12 Grimauld Palace had always remained open, dealing with smaller issues that were behind the scenes of the Ministry of Magic, but now the place was positively buzzing with members of the old Order and Dumbledore's Army.
'They're likely to hit here next.' George said, pointing with his wand at a large map laid out on the kitchen table. 'It's where a large group of muggleborns went into hiding during the last War. They hid with various pureblood witches and wizards. Blood traitors.' He added with a grim face. 'It also has a large history connecting to the middle Peverell brother. There are rumours that a gift from Death has been hidden there.'
Harry kept his features straight, determined not to betray anything.
'If we send in a group from the front marching into the area,' interjected Neville, 'then we can send two more groups around the back to encircle them. Hopefully that way we can trap some of them, even if it's just the one to see who they are.'
'We know that.' Ron said humourlessly. 'Death Eaters. What I want to know is what they want to achieve. Voldemort's gone. Really gone. Isn't he, Harry?'
The group turned to Harry, whose eyebrows were knotted in concentrations. He nodded firmly and traced his wand around the South. 'Here's where concerns me.' He said softly. 'If they get a defence around the border then they can cut off other countries coming in to help us.'
Parvati gave a hesitant laugh. 'They can't really do that, can they, Harry? Set up shields?'
Harry nodded. 'It's surprisingly easy if you know how.'
Parvati was just opening her mouth to ask how exactly he knew this, when Hermione piped up.
'They've done it before. Hundreds of years ago mind you. Muggles are alright, but anyone magical gets trapped. But Harry, what I'd be more concerned about is Hogwarts,' she tapped the Castle on the map, almost thoughtfully. 'I know that everyone sees it as a Safe Haven, but isn't that what's so enticing about it? If they wanted to prove themselves as all powerful, they'd at least aim for Hogsmeade.'
Ron gently laid a hand on her arm. 'She's right. I know we've been putting up more security, but more can never hurt, can it?'
Harry nodded, distracted. 'We need to work out where their base is. If we focus entirely on their actions, they will never stop. We need to stab the heart of it. I'll go and discover what I can.'
Ron stood up to join him. 'I will too. '
Hermione rose. 'And me.'
'No.' Both men suddenly shot at her.
Hermione scowled furiously. 'You're not swanning off on an adventure without me.'
Harry groaned, exasperated. 'This is hardly an adventure, Hermione. We're not kids any more. You need to stay here, safe.'
He'd said precisely the wrong this. Her very aura seemed to spark electricity in anger.
'Don't talk to me as if I'm not good enough to come with you, that I'm some little girl who needs protecting. I've helped you since you were eleven years old – and I have been a good help. Just because some things have been difficult lately,' she swallowed, 'doesn't mean I need to be shoved to one side and treated with care for the rest of my life.'
'Hermione,' Ron tried to soothe, but he was ignored.
'I have every right as you or Ron to help. I need to help. It's people like me they are hurting. Muggles and mudbloods.'
'Hermione, you're not-'
He cut short as she let her sleeve fall to show the thin red scars against her white skin.
'Mudblood.' She whispered. 'And who am I to deny it? Let me help. I need to help.'
'I really don't feel good about this.'
Harry and Ron watched as Hermione dashed about saying her last minute goodbyes to the immediate Weasley family. Although it had been agreed that their departure was to be kept secret, they needed the Weasley's to make sure that it remained so. Harry's biggest regret was that he was leaving James so soon, and a newly pregnant Ginny. Yet, he reasoned with himself that this was for the greater good of his children.
But he still felt a great sense of unease as he watched Hermione ready herself to join them. Some events were fixed in time. He wouldn't be able to bear it if he was leading her to one that should have occurred in her past.
Ron grimaced. 'You know that if we went off and left her, she would find us within seconds.'
'Unless she was too pissed off.'
'In which case we would be screwed. Let's be honest, we can't last one second without Hermione.'
Harry had to give him that. But it was one of the reasons why he wanted to keep her safe.
Ron seemed to have read his mind. 'I know that you won't put her into any danger, Harry. I trust you.'
'She won't ever be put into danger. Not while I'm living. Not while I'm around.'
They had been travelling on the road for about a week. To travel by magic would, in some ways, be easier, but it made them too open to detection from the Death Eaters– so they avoided that when they could. Sometimes Hermione woke up and thought that she was back searching for Horcruxes again. But then she saw that she was sleeping in Ron's arms and knew that it had not all been a dream.
They'd heard from the others that they were starting to combat the uprising. The only problem was that it was getting stronger. Wizards and witches had crawled out from beneath the woodwork or had shown their true colours again and were now working against them. They were told by the older members of the Order that it was like the old days, where no one knew who to trust anymore.
'So, what are you thinking, Harry?'
They were sat around the table munching on chicken legs and chips. Now that they weren't fugitives, they were more able to go out and get real food, rather than resorting to mushroom picking.
Harry swallowed and frowned slightly. 'Their old base would be a good place to start. Riddle Manor. It was the home of Voldemort's father and grandparents.'
'Bit weird, considering that he hated his muggle side?' Ron questioned.
Hermione shook her head. 'No,' she said logically, 'I think he would have seen it as a victory of wizard kind over muggles. If you think about it, his father abandoned him, to then sit in his place and pride about the family his father had hated would have been a triumph for him.'
Harry was slightly taken aback by her understanding, but pressed on. 'Even if we find that no one's there, we can still search for clues. They might have references to other houses that were used at that time.'
Ron nodded and picked up the bottle of wine to refill his goblet. When he turned to fill Hermione's, she put her hand over it and smiled.
'No thank you,' she smiled mischievously, 'I'm pregnant.'
