It was the last Saturday of March, the month had passed faster than expected, settled routine chewing through the days and weeks greedily. Hermione and Harry were presently huddled around her desk in the shared study room, the project they had started in February was coming along nicely.
She had moved into Harry's room and moved his desk into hers, with the ability to use magic, the reorganisation had taken very little time. The bed that previously had occupied the space had been shrunk down to dollhouse size and stored in a drawer in her desk. The desks had been pushed together to face each other, so they had space to spread out, but could also chat over assignments and anything else. It was nice to share a study space separate from their bedroom, and not have to take over the dining room table. She had also moved a bookcase into store their school texts and reference books. It was shaping up to be a room she'd always wanted and better still she had someone to share it with. Harry might not appreciate the aesthetic, but he appreciated the work she'd done and happily used the space with her.
Their current project was two plain silver men's rings. The rings were to be a birthday present for Fred and George. Which was a front for getting more information back to the Order by a means that didn't automatically flag up their whereabouts. They were out of the loop as far as the Order was concerned, no longer aware of who was dealing with what. They had an idea that Fred and George would be up for delivering the information if only to show off their birthday presents.
Initially, they had planned to send it to Ron. He was their friend, and the guilt of leaving him behind made them feel like they should try and include him. Her parents had advised against it. Ron, they had pointed out was their friend, and as such would be under observation in case, they did try to get in touch. He was also inside the castle which the Headmaster controlled, he was not a free agent within the school, he could be compelled to obey. Putting him in a position where he had to pick between his friends who had left him, and the Headmaster of the school he was still attending would be grossly unfair. They had exchanged an unhappy look and agreed.
The rings were going to hold a glamour much like the ones she and Harry used to go to school and extra classes. Those rings changed subtle things, they didn't make you shorter or taller like polyjuice potion did, turning you into an entirely different person. But changed hair colour, as well as texture. Eye colour and shape. Skin tone and appearance of age, so that you were still you, just a very different looking version of you.
Harry said she looked like herself if she had been born a tawny blonde with straight hair, killer cheekbones and an all year tan. Which, she took to mean, she looked like herself but nothing like herself. Harry looked like a surfer dude. It was the easiest way to describe him, she'd had to change his eye colour because it was one of his most remarked features. Instead of green eyes, he had blue eyes the colour of calm seas. His messy hair was sun bleached blonde, and he also sported a tan. In short, he looked like he'd washed in from a Californian summer and never gone back. His scar was hidden, it had been too large a risk to leave it visible, as it would immediately make him stand out if they were hunted on this continent. As much as it had been one of the few links to his past and parents he had agreed that hiding it was the best thing to do.
The charms had been embedded into the rings, a nifty bit of magic she'd found in an old grimoire in the Hogwarts library. By feeding power into the rings as well, the charm could be triggered by putting the ring on and disabled by removing it. Casting a Finite Incantum had no effect on the charm. The spell had no way to separate the charm from the magic powering it, protected as they both were by the physical barrier of the metal ring.
The things they were going to send the twins had a more commercial value. They contained a glamour charm combined with a transfiguration so detailed it created stable props. The idea was triggered by her Helen's comment on how useful the rings would be for fancy dress parties. Slip on a ring and hey presto! You look like whoever you want, and you've just clothes to sort out. Harry had asked Hermione if the spell she had, could transfigure the clothes the wearer was already wearing to suit the needs of the costume. Ready to rise to a challenge, especially one her mother was interested in she'd hit the books and come up with the answer of yes.
It had progressed to conjuring props, and now the final test was before them. Could they place charms in the ring that would turn the wearer into a seafaring pirate, complete with hat, cutlass and peg leg? With the other ring, they would be trying to create a musketeer, with hat complete with feathered plume and a sword.
The costumes had been chosen due to the sheer volume of images of both, because they both came with hat and sword and the period detail was similar, reducing the amount of work they would have to do. The thought of the chaos Fred and George could cause with such spells had also provided enough giggles that they had been willing to try.
Hermione taught Harry the spells she used on the glamour rings they wore, and with a lot of scribbled notes, a fair bit of trial and more than a few errors, they thought they had cracked it.
Hermione had finessed the spells down as much as she could to maximise their efficiency, as the rings were limited on the amount of magical energy they could hold. Rechargeable rings were next on the list of improvements they had made as they had designed.
Hermione was going to layer the spells into the ring, then Harry was going to feed in the magical power that would activate the spell. The magical power had to be tied into the rings, and Harry had been consistently better at it than her, so she'd handed the job over to him happily.
The rings glowed slightly as the transfer of energy caused them to heat. Once they were charged, they allowed the metal to cool. Helen, who had come to watch her idea become a reality, brought them a drink and snack. Hovering a finger over the ring, she checked how hot they had become. "I suppose magic is energy, so it makes sense that heat is a waste product, but I think it's the first physical manifestation I've seen if you know what I mean. Other than the light that happens when you cast certain spells, it's invisible."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Transfiguration is a good example. You say the words and make the wand movement, but you can't see the physical magic interact with the item you are transfiguring, just the item itself changing. You're told to hold the image in your head, but I think that's a confidence booster or a way to keep your mind on track because there's nothing to see until the spell works."
Helen nodded her understanding then pulled a small Dictaphone out of her pocket. "This is what I think you'd be best using. It's from the practice in England. It's a standard model so they should be able to pick up a player for the tape. Wouldn't sending the whole thing be easier, though?"
"Yes and no. Yes, it would be easier in that they wouldn't have to find something to play the tape. But we don't know how somewhere as magical as Hogwarts would react with the electronics. We are assuming it's going to work. None of the muggle borns ever mentioned having cassette or CD players with them, but it wasn't exactly something that you would advertise anyway. If we send it, then it's possible the ambient magic of Hogwarts will break it. If the tape is inside it might break the tape, and we've sent them junk. If we just send the tape, the twins will know what it is because Mr Weasley has all sorts of junk in his shed and they used to experiment on their products in there. It's more likely they will play it before sending it up to Hogwarts, thus reducing the chances of it being wiped by the wards before anyone works out what it is. Electronics might be a complete no go, or it might work, or they might have a sound duplicating spell or something. We need to hedge our bets as best we can, it's not like they can tell us if the tape gets mangled," Harry said.
"Do you really think this will work?"
"The only other way we suspect you can destroy horcrux is with the sword. They say it can only be taken and used under conditions of valour and need. Which for a weapon seems pretty stupid, it's hardly Excalibur. If they can't use the sword, then they need another way. Basilisk venom is a controlled substance and really expensive. Assuming the Headmaster allows it to be bought on the school's account, it seems ridiculous to do so when they have a whole one rotting in a cavern under the school its self," Hermione said.
"Not doing something that is easily done for minimum risk seems wrong," Harry said. "I know we left, but our friends are still there and still in the line of fire. If we don't do this and Ron or Ginny, or Fred and George or Neville get hurt, I'm not sure that I could live with that. If Professor Dumbledore decides to make a new hero out of one of our friends, then it will be our fault they are in harm's way. I need to know we've done everything we can to help."
Helen hugged him to her. "I wasn't saying you shouldn't do it, I think if it doesn't put either of you at risk then yes, of course, you should offer all the help you can. But please, remember, you are not responsible for other people's actions. If the Headmaster picks another student to send into harm's way that isn't on you, that's on him. You are not responsible, they are. You can only be responsible for yourself." Helen leant backwards so she could see his face, he still looked troubled and guilty. She smiled warmly and gently nudged him back to the desk. Then settled in the comfy armchair, Hermione had smugly conjured for her when she'd asked to stay and watch them work.
Helen sighed internally. How could anyone think to drop the survival of society onto the lap of a child was beyond her. When Hermione had first written of Harry describing the events of the incident with the troll, she and John had returned to the books they had bought Hermione and re-read the stories. Stories seemed an apt description, the series of events appeared to be a little fanciful, two grown adults dead but a baby survives to vanquish the monster. Had it been a coincidence his mother had died just beforehand? Was the child not the survivor rather than the saviour? It seemed that this was more likely. Hermione's friendship with Harry had kept them abreast of the goings on, but they had drawn their own conclusions. Something about Harry wasn't quite right, the Headmaster who had no interest in getting to know the other students personally seemed very involved in this particular young man. The parental alarm bells started ringing, but they were helpless to do anything but encourage Hermione to be safe, and look after her friend.
Hermione's fourth year had been challenging for them; the rigged tournament, their daughter, sent under a lake for hours, in February of all months! Her newly fledged relationship with her friend, then the death of that poor boy and the return of the monster. They had sat reading her letters as they came in, clutching each other wondering if this was the year Magic stole their daughter and returned a corpse.
It turned out as bad as they thought her fourth year was, not that any other year had been a picnic, it was her adventure to the Ministry, a year later, that nearly killed her.
She was, when they collected her at the train station, wan, pale and weak. She had pulled a small box out of her bag stuffed full of potions she had been told to take for the next fortnight to counteract any traces of the curse she had been hit with. The prophecy, which they had been sent to retrieve, confirmed their fears about Harry and their suspicions about the Headmaster.
It had been the final straw when she wrote of the law. She had thrown herself into her new world, and they kept spitting her back out bruised and sore. As her parents, they had had enough. If the British magical community didn't want their daughter, then that was fine with them, they didn't want it to have her either, especially not on their terms. They had broken their promise and told her no.
Hermione had taken it well, she explained about non-compliance, got them copies of the law, so they knew what she was facing. This law was no law at all. The wording was so archaic they had initially wondered if they had been sent it in error or as a joke mocking the Muggles. They had contacted a friend who was an amateur historian who liked to dabble in archaic law. They asked him to explain it to them, without telling him it was genuine and applied to their daughter.
She had been required to marry into any pureblood or qualifying half-blood magical bloodline four months after her coming of age. In return for her oh so unselfish devotion to duty to the magical society, all her needs would be met by the family she was marrying into. She wasn't required to produce children by law though their friend had pointed out that it was loosely worded and open to interpretation. Which they had taken to mean at some point it would be enforceable. It had made their beautiful, intelligent daughter legally no more than a cow or horse, goods to be bartered for. The law held no provisions for the family of the witches who would be married off. They were to simply hand over their daughters and go on their merry way.
It hadn't been as crass as to say it was just for the muggle born witches but it had said the law applied to anyone with a muggle in their bloodline up to three generations. Which was all but the same thing. Some of the half-bloods would escape, some wouldn't, but all the muggle-born would be caught in the net.
She presumed that since applications could be submitted, it gave the witches in question the opportunity to marry who they wanted. Assuming who you wanted, applied for you and was of legal age. Applied for, it was just so dehumanising.
It had been the nail in the coffin, though, they had accepted that she would choose the magical world at some point and move there full time. They had convinced themselves it would be no different if she had elected to go to the other side of the world for a job. Difficult, but she could return for visits, and it wasn't until she had finished school and it might not be straight away. They could still have her until then until even that was snatched away.
The law in full laid out the consequences and they had been dire, even their friend had raised his eyebrows at how totalitarian it had been, he had expected fines and levies, not life imprisonment. As a magical person, Hermione was expected to live past a hundred years old if her health was good. They had immediately put the house on the market, their daughter was not going to be handed over to the highest bidder, nor was she going to be locked up for over a hundred years in prison for being born to muggles. They couldn't change her birth, but they could change her future.
By the time her birthday rolled around making her subject to the law, they had hashed out the basis of their plan. The first and only application she had received disabused them of any lingering notion that their daughter would be treated fairly. The practice went on the market half an hour after the owl had left the kitchen.
Hermione asking to take Harry with her had come as no surprise. Their daughter was loyal; she would want to give him a choice. Taking two adolescents was really no harder than one. Hermione had handed over an adoption certificate they hadn't asked any questions about, and they had sent off for his passport. He could come if he wanted and if Hermione got around to asking. The fear of the answer being no pushed the asking to as close to her leaving date as they dared. Plane tickets had to be purchased, it had been then, or never.