A/N: Hey, guys! So sorry for the long interval between chapters. I could've posted this one at an earlier date, but I didn't like how it turned out so I had to scrap about half of it and do a rewrite. I hope this comes out better and that you enjoy it.
So, in this chapter, we're finally going to get a glimpse of the Dark Lord himself and some members of the Order. It might feel like just a filler chapter in a way, but I feel it's necessary to establish where this story will soon be heading.
Anyway, thanks again for sticking with the story. Special thanks to my loyal readers who don't fail to read and review. Love you, guys! :) To Marshmallowman (glad you liked the chapter ending), pgoodrichboggs (glad you liked the new characters and the chapter), leonix2009 (don't worry Hermione and Draco will be interacting soon with the Death Eaters) and MelodyDaughterOfHecate (you're welcome, my dear).
So, read, enjoy and please, please, review!
Chapter 25
The Winds of War
The silence in the room was deafening. And if not for the frantic beating of his heart, Lucius would have thought that he had actually gone deaf. It was eerie, but it was to be expected. No one dared breathe while the Dark Lord was expressing his disappointment. The sorry figure on the floor had stopped writhing; the only evidence that it still lived was the intermittent twitching of its limbs.
The Dark Lord turned to Lucius, his pale face expressionless. "Get him out of here, Lucius. Give him time to recover. When he regains command of his faculties, question him again," he said.
It took a moment for the words to sink in and Lucius almost kicked himself for showing the Dark Lord that his actions still affected him. When he recovered from his lapse, anger nearly overwhelmed him. He must never show weakness! Especially not to this sadistic maniac in front of him. Whipping his head to the side, he caught sight of two gaping, young Death Eaters.
"You two," he said, pointing to the young men, "take this trash to the dungeons."
The men scrambled toward the unconscious figure on the floor, hauled him up and rushed out of the room without even glancing at Lucius or the Dark Lord. Lucius grimaced as the trio left a trail of blood on his pristine marble floors. He waved his wand and vanished the grim reminder of the day's events. Still, the stench of blood clung to the air like a death shroud.
"Now, that made me hungry! Let's eat, shall we? I can't wait to sample the exquisite cooking of your House Elves, Lucius," the Dark Lord laughed as he moved toward the head of the long dining table. He took his seat with a flourish and sat back, rubbing his hands together in almost childlike glee and anticipation.
Lucius felt sick to his stomach. How could this man think of food after what he had just done? Well, perhaps because he was less of a man and more of a monster, Lucius scoffed inside. He mentally slapped himself and hurriedly closed his mind. It wouldn't help to harbor such thoughts whilst in the presence of one of the most accomplished Legilimens he had ever encountered.
Carefully reining in his wayward musings, Lucius focused his attention instead on the other lower-ranking Death Eaters who were still hovering around; all looking unnerved and anxious.
"You may go now," he said with a lazy wave of his hand. There was an almost inaudible sigh of relief as the cloaked figures hastily withdrew from the room.
The rest of them - Voldemort's 'Inner Circle' - Adolphus Nott, Randall Crabbe, Ormond Goyle, the Lestrange brothers - Rodolphus and Rabastan, Pollock Avery, Antonin Dolohov, and Thorfin Rowle, took their pre-assigned seats. Lucius was, of course, seated at the right-hand side of the Dark Lord. The seat directly across him, reserved for Severus Snape, was currently empty. Two other seats normally taken by Corban Yaxley and Bellatrix Lestrange were also devoid of their occupants, most likely out on separate assignments for the Dark Lord. Voldemort never trusted his followers with the whole picture, assigning them instead into separate work cells, not one really knowing what the others were doing. Even Lucius was not privy to all of the Dark Lord's plans, just those that he was entrusted with (which were usually the most important and critical of all - those that have a direct impact on Dark wizard's larger plan).
"Lucius, will Severus be joining us tonight?" Voldemort asked, leaning back in his chair. His relaxed posture belied the tension that Lucius glimpsed in the Dark Lord's eyes. Lucius knew that the Dark Lord was itching to grill Snape about the Mudblood students of Hogwarts.
Before Lucius could reply, however, the Headmaster of Hogwarts was already sweeping into the room, his dark cloak billowing behind him.
"Apologies, my Lord, for my tardiness. I was held up," Snape said, kneeling beside the seated Voldemort, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"Look at me, Severus," the Dark Lord breathed. Snape complied, locking eyes with Voldemort. Apparently satisfied with what he'd seen, the Dark Lord tapped Snape on the shoulder and gave him a big, wide smile. "Well, take your seat, Severus. We're just about to be treated to another sumptuous dinner by our kind host here."
Snape glanced at Lucius as he rose to his feet. They exchanged sneers.
Once Snape was seated, Lucius clapped his hands and six House Elves came in bearing heavily-laden platters of food. They disappeared with a loud crack after everything was laid out in perfect order on the table. They re-appeared carrying several bottles of Superior Red, pouring them into the crystal goblets sitting on the right side of each guest placement.
Lucius lifted his and said, "To Lord Voldemort."
Goblets were raised, toasting the Dark Lord who acknowledged it with a nod of his dark head.
Voldemort sniffed the blood-red liquid before taking a dainty sip. "Mmhmm...brewed to perfection as always, Lucius," he said, raising his goblet to toast his host.
"Thank you, my Lord. I've always considered it the best product of the Malfoy Apothecaries," Lucius replied, returning the toast.
The following minutes were spent in silence as everyone partook of the scrumptious assortment of foods from the famous Malfoy kitchens. There were salads, thick pumpkin soup, buttered veggies, various roasted meats, and an extensive selection of puddings.
"So, Severus, how is Hogwarts doing?" Voldemort asked as he sliced through a thick slab of lamb smothered with gravy.
"Quite well, my Lord. Thank you for asking," Snape replied, his eyes darting to Nott Sr. The man seemed to take no notice, very much occupied with his dinner.
"Lucius told me that one of the Muggle-borns was not able to come to the Registration. Why is that?" Voldemort paused and skewered Snape with a penetrating gaze.
"Yes, my Lord. She was taken ill by a nasty case of Dragonpox," Snape replied.
Randall Crabbe choked and nearly splattered Pollock Avery with his drink.
"Watch it, Crabbe! I just had this made," Pollock snarled, brushing the sleeve of his exquisite dark, silk robe in irritation.
"S-sorry, Pollock! I-I didn't mean to," Randall stuttered with a wince.
"Dragonpox? I didn't know that anyone could still contract such a disease," Rabastan said.
"Oh, believe me, it really was Dragonpox. I saw it for myself. A very nasty case of it, too! If the girl wasn't a filthy Mudblood I would have found it my heart to take pity on her," Adolphus Nott interceded, nodding at Snape.
If you even had a heart, Lucius wanted to say.
"Well, then. She can register as soon as she's fully recovered. Lucius will accommodate her. Wouldn't you, Lucius?" the Dark Lord said, turning to Lucius.
"As you please, my Lord. I will make it a point to clear my schedule for her," Lucius replied.
"Oh, no need for that, Lucius. I know you're a busy man. I don't want to trouble you that much. She's just another filthy Mudblood, after all," Voldemort said with a mirthless grin.
"It would be no trouble, my Lord. Actually, I'm quite intrigued by the girl and I would very much like to meet her in person."
Voldemort raised his eyebrows at Lucius, unable to hide his own surprise.
"Really? I didn't know you're into young girls now, Lucius," Voldemort said, smirking maliciously.
Lucius felt his cheeks burn up at the quiet snickers from the table. With a forced laugh, he replied, "Oh, no, my Lord. Even if I were into such an interesting...(perversion, he almost said)...ah, diversion...I still would not sully myself with such filth. It's just because I've read her file and had heard stories about her from my son, Draco. They're both in the same year at Hogwarts."
"Ah! I see. That explains it then," Voldemort leaned in and whispered to Lucius, "But still, I recommend that you not limit yourself too much, Lucius. Mudbloods can be quite...entertaining and enjoyable; especially the young, virginal ones. They are quite easy to...persuade to do things you would never even dream of asking a Pureblood wife. You don't know what you're missing, my friend. Their screams are enough to make you forget that they're filthy," Voldemort finished with a chuckle, his dark eyes glinting with malice.
He could not tell if the temperature in the room had dropped dramatically or what, but Lucius felt goosebumps suddenly crawling up his arms. There were times when this man could really creep him out. Torturing their enemies, or even their wayward followers, for information, punishment, or leverage, he could tolerate and even participate in. But doing it for fun or for sexual gratification? He could confidently say that he hadn't gone down that path, yet. Nor did he intend to do so.
Of course, he could not let the Dark Lord know that so, he swallowed the bile in his throat and laughed along with him. It took him two, large gulps of wine to steady himself again.
"So, what else can you tell me about the Mudbloods? Have you found anyone worthy enough to serve our cause?" asked Voldemort.
"Yes, indeed, my Lord. I have actually found a few promising prospects," Lucius replied, relieved that the Dark Lord had reverted to his normal, politically scheming self.
"All students of Hogwarts, I suppose?"
"Not all of them, my Lord. But the most encouraging ones are. There's one that is particularly interesting, a boy from a very rich and influential Muggle family, close to royalty in their world, actually. He's already under further...evaluation," Lucius said, his eyes involuntarily going to Snape. The Headmaster seemed uninterested in their exchange as he was currently in a serious discussion with Pollock Avery.
"Splendid! Severus, did you hear that?" the Dark Lord said, turning to Snape, who immediately disengaged himself from his dialogue with Avery.
"Forgive me, my Lord. I had not been listening. Pollock and I were discussing the possibility of marketing Wolfsbane. It seems that there's a sudden clamor for the potion," Snape replied.
"Yes, I've heard about that. Someone must really get that Greyback in stocks. He's becoming more of a nuisance than an effective tool. What's the point of having the whole world under my thumb if everyone's been turned into an animal, eh?" the Dark Lord spat as he skewered a piece of steak. "Lucius, tell Bellatrix to rein in that pet of hers or else I will be forced to destroy it."
"Yes, my Lord," said Lucius. He never really did care for that half-breed. If it were up to him, Greyback would be incinerated faster than anyone could say 'werewolf'.
"Lucius was telling me that he found a very promising candidate for the position of apprentice amongst your students, Severus. You should be proud of yourself, you know. It was a brilliant move - letting the Mudbloods into Hogwarts. If I didn't know better, I'd say you'd been planning this all along," Voldemort said, leaning back in his chair as he watched Snape's reaction.
"You give me too much credit, my Lord. You're the one who had found it prudent to keep an eye on the Mudbloods. And what better way to do it than put them in a school that we can control?" Snape said. The Dark Lord laughed and clapped Snape on the shoulder.
"A brilliant move on our part, if I may say so! And now, we're about to reap the rewards of our benevolence to these filthy creatures," the Dark Lord sneered as he took a swig of wine.
"If I may ask, my Lord? Who amongst my students had been chosen for the prestigious honor of training for an apprenticeship?" Snape asked. The Dark Lord turned to Lucius with raised brows.
"I haven't decided on the others, yet. But your student in seventh-year, James Toffler, will surely be on the top of my list of new apprentices," Lucius said, sneering at the word 'apprentices'. The students would be nothing more than slaves; trained to do as commanded - disposable soldiers. As he looked at Snape, Lucius could have sworn that something flashed in the Headmaster's eyes. However, it was gone in an instant and Lucius decided that it was probably just a trick of the light.
"Ah, yes. James Toffler is one of Hogwarts' best students. He also comes from a prominent Muggle family; father's a doctor, mother's a lawyer. Quite gifted, too, when it comes to wielding magic. I'd say he's a very logical choice," Snape said.
"I'm glad you agree with me, Severus," Lucius said. The Headmaster nodded in return, his face devoid of emotion.
"Will the others be sent back to Hogwarts, then, my Lord? The ones who did not make the cut?" Snape asked, turning to Voldemort whilst taking a sip from his goblet.
The Dark Lord gave a low chuckle as his eyes turned to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. "Why, Severus, I do think you're growing a soft spot for your Mudbloods!"
Lucius smirked when Snape nearly choked on his wine. Foolish move, Sev, he thought. Careful you don't slip, my slithery friend.
"I couldn't care less what happens to those anomalies of nature, my Lord. But as you're well aware, the Muggle-born Registration in itself has garnered much criticism and is now being used by our opponents to rally support. I'd hate to think what they would do if word gets out that underage witches and wizards are continually being held against their will in the Minister of Magic's dungeons no less," Snape sighed, "My Lord, I'm merely looking after the reputation of the Ministry...and by extension, yours, of course. We wouldn't want to add more fuel to the pathetic crusade of the Order, do we? Plus, I don't want to impose upon Minister Malfoy's hospitality longer than necessary,"
Voldemort seemed to contemplate Snape's words. Then, he shrugged and returned to slicing his steak. "You've got a point there, Severus. Very well, send the useless ones back to Hogwarts, Lucius. No need to sully your home with their presence any further."
"As you wish, my Lord," Lucius replied, sending an icy glare in Snape's direction. The Hogwarts Headmaster reciprocated in kind.
The next hour was spent enjoying their meal whilst discussing mundane matters. After which, Lucius led his guests to the Drawing Room to let them sample his wide collection of brandies and imported cigars. Whilst the Dark Lord went over his other plans for the Muggle-born 'apprentices' with Lucius and Snape, the rest of the party were left to while away their time in useless chitchat. The atmosphere was, if not pleasant, then at least not unpleasant - a rarity in their clique. The quiet interlude, however, was brutally shattered when shouts from without rang in the air. Lucius was just getting up to investigate the commotion when two badly burned figures burst through the door and fell on the floor.
"Merlin! Who is that?" yelped Randall Crabbe.
Rabastan Lestrange cautiously moved toward the nearest inert body. He went down on one knee and poked it with his wand. His effort was rewarded with a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a whimper.
"Turn him over, man! Let's see who he is!" cried Nott.
Lucius saw the other cloaked figure moving, trying desperately to rise. He was about to rush to the man's side but Snape beat him to it. As the Headmaster of Hogwarts helped the injured man to turn over and lie on his back, a collective gasp came from the rest of the group. It was Thorfin Rowle, Jr. His father pushed past the other men and dived to his son's side, clutching his badly burned hands.
"What happened to you, son? Who did this to you?" Rowle Sr. screamed.
The younger man tried to speak, his lips soundlessly. Tears ran down his cheeks as he continued to mouth silent words.
The Dark Lord moved toward Rowle, Jr. and glanced at Snape, a subtle message exchanged between the two. Snape pointed his wand at the boy and muttered an incantation under his breath. Thorfin Jr. whimpered, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Then, he collapsed in his father's arms.
"Junior? Fuck's sake, wake up, boy! Junior, open your eyes! Severus, what did you do to him?" the elder Rowle howled at a frowning Snape.
"Oh, shut up, Rowle! I just put your son in a deep sleep so you can take him to St. Mungo's," Snape spat at Rowle.
"You should be grateful that I am in a merciful mood tonight, Rowle. Your son's incompetence deserves nothing but death. If he ever pulls through, I do not want him within a mile of me, you understand? I'm revoking all his rights and privileges as a Death Eater. Now, get him out of here before I change my mind," the Dark Lord said, his dark eyes blazing at the cowering, broken man.
"T-thank y-you, my L-lord," he stuttered, struggling to lift his unconscious son upright.
Lucius pointed to Crabbe and Goyle, "Help him, you fools! Put those muscles to good use for once!" The two quickly did as told, not wanting to catch the Dark Lord's or Lucius' ire. As the quartet shuffled out of the room, Lucius felt a gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach. What if that was Draco? He and his son may not have the perfect relationship, but Draco was still his offspring, flesh of his flesh and blood of his blood - his only child and heir. How would he have felt had it been Draco who had been dismissed just like that by this spawn of evil standing beside him?
Get a grip, you imbecile! Now is not the time to dwell on such matters, he castigated himself. Brusquely brushing his moment of weakness aside, Lucius focused his attention on the other badly burned Death Eater instead.
Rabastan was now helping the injured man to sit up. As he did so, the hood fell back to reveal his mangled face. In spite of the peeling flesh and non-existent brows, he was still recognizable. It was Yaxley.
Avery gasped when he seemed to have realized something. He rushed to the front and kneeled before his longtime friend. "Corban, where's my son? Where's Cedrick?" he asked in a quivering voice.
Yaxley held out a trembling hand to Pollock. Avery gazed at the burnt hand with revulsion but took it gingerly into his own just the same.
"I-I d-don't k-know if he...survived. Junior...Junior and I...barely m-made i-it...out of there," Yaxley rasped, grimacing at each word.
"Who did this to you, Yaxley?" the Dark Lord asked in an eerily quiet voice.
Yaxley shuddered as he tried to rise from the floor, his wild eyes radiating fear and something akin to excitement at the same time. He swallowed hard and said, "I-it was him, my Lord! I saw him with my own two eyes! He lives! The boy lives!"
Lucius noticed the abrupt change in the Dark Lord's demeanor. His body stood ramrod-straight, but his hands were twitching at his sides. When Lucius glanced at their leader, an unwelcome tremble slithered down his spine. The Dark Lord's pupils had turned a brilliant red as his pale face contorted into a mask of utter disgust and hatred, his lips pulled back in a macabre sneer. It was the face of evil.
"Who lives, Yaxley?" Snape quietly asked, inadvertently giving voice to the one question that was itching at the back of their throats.
Yaxley closed his eyes and said in a voice that could barely be heard, "HARRY POTTER."
o-O-o
"I don't think this is a good idea, Blaise," Ginny said, lazily stretching her arms above her head. The man beside her chuckled as his hand slid under her shirt.
"Hmmm...you weren't complaining earlier," he said, nuzzling her neck.
"Stop it! You're changing the topic," Ginny tried to push Blaise's hand away, but he was doing something so wonderful to her neck that she couldn't help but lean back against his broad, warm chest.
"Do you really want me to stop?" Blaise whispered into her ear, his tongue flicking at its lobe.
Ginny sighed and reached up, entangling her fingers in Blaise's soft curls. "Oh, Merlin! Please don't...you'd kill me if you do!"
Blaise chuckled again and started trailing soft kisses down the column of her neck, his fingers tracing lazy circles on the velvety soft skin of her abdomen. His other hand was also now under Ginny's shirt, moving up to cup her lacy bra. Ginny squirmed under his touch, leaning further back into him. Blaise responded by pressing against her, showing her irrefutable proof of his arousal. It was now Ginny's turn to chuckle.
"Oh, Merlin, Blaise...is that your wand or are you just excited to see me?" she snickered. She'd always wanted to say that line, no matter how corny it sounded. The man behind her growled and nipped her neck. She pulled his hair in retaliation.
"Ow! That hurt, Ginevra!" Blaise cried, tugging Ginny's hand away from his hair. Unfortunately, her fingers got tangled in his curls so he ended up losing a few strands when he did.
Ginny quickly sat up and turned to Blaise, a look of horror dawning on her face.
"Bollocks! I'm so sorry, Blaise! I didn't mean to!" she gasped.
"Damn, woman! Are you trying to scalp me? I'd probably end up bald within a month if you keep up with that!" Blaise complained, rubbing the spot where Ginny's fingers were.
If the situation hadn't been a tad awkward, Ginny would have been horrified by what she had done. But seeing Blaise looking so put out and glancing menacingly at the strands of hair still trapped in her fingers made her burst into laughter.
"I'm really sorry, Blaise! Here you can have them back," she giggled, thrusting the strands of dark hair at Blaise.
Blaise swatted her hand away with a glare. "Ha-ha. Not funny Weaslette," he sniped, "By the way, thanks for the bald spot, she-cat!"
Ginny guffawed shamelessly, clapping her hands together in obvious glee. Blaise rolled his eyes at the antics of his girlfriend. He snatched one of his pillows and threw it in her face. Something he should not have done as he belatedly realized after seeing the ferocious gleam in the redheaded girl's eyes.
"Oh, no, tell me didn't do that, Blaise Zabini," she growled. Growing up with six brothers did not make her meek. On the contrary, it made her just as combative as any full-blooded male. Copying her boyfriend's move, and even improving on it, Ginny threw not only one pillow but three in quick succession. Seeing that Blaise was temporarily incapacitated by the pillows, Ginny wasted no time in jumping on top of him and pummeling him with another one. Blaise tried hard to dislodge the laughing hyena on top of him but to no avail. And had they not been interrupted, Blaise was sure that he would've either died from excessive laughing or from suffocation.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?"
They both froze and slowly turned toward the source of the sound. Ginny quickly scrambled from her perch, her cheeks flaming redder than her hair as she averted the glaring looks that a thoroughly annoyed Theodore Nott was giving them. Blaise huffed and cursed, dismayed that their rowdy interlude was abruptly cut short by his tactless roommate.
"What does it look like, Nott? Can't you see that I'm having fun with my girl?" he spat.
"You call being straddled and almost suffocated by a ton of pillows fun? You really need to have your head examined, mate," Theo scoffed.
"What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were off to see Longbottom?" Blaise asked, sitting up. He pulled a still blushing Ginny into his arms and kissed the top of her head.
"Oh, right!" Theo said as if remembering the real reason why he was there. "Well, Neville actually sent me to get you. I told him about what I told you and he wants to talk it over with you."
Blaise felt Ginny's questioning look before he even saw it.
"What is he talking about?" she asked.
He sighed and turned to the inquisitive redhead. "I think we better just go see Neville. I'll tell you all about it when we get there," he said, swinging his legs to the side of the bed. He stood and turned to Ginny to help her to her feet. Ginny scowled but took his hand without complaint. They then followed Theo to a deserted classroom on the third floor where they found Neville and Luna reading an upside-down magazine together. They both looked up when they heard the door squeak open.
"Hey! Glad you could make it," Neville said, smiling. He whispered something to Luna which made the young witch close her magazine and stash it back inside her bag.
"Okay, now that we're all here, you owe me an explanation, Zabini," Ginny said as they pulled out chairs to sit on. Blaise grimaced at the demanding tone of his girlfriend.
"Alright! Let me have a seat first, please?" he retorted. Ginny smirked at him.
"Actually...I think it's better if Theo tells you all about it," Blaise said, clapping Theo on the back.
"WHAT? Damn it, Zabini! How many times do I have to repeat this blasted story? Why didn't you just tell her while you were being smothered?" Theo grumbled.
Blaise quirked an eyebrow and chuckled, "Well...it's better coming from you. First-hand info and all that. Besides, I wouldn't want to leave anything out."
Theo sighed, resigned to his fate. "Fine! Listen, Weaslette and listen well. I'm not going to repeat what I'm going to tell you, okay?"
Ginny pouted, she obviously did not like being called Weaslette. "I'm listening, Nott."
"Okay. So...remember what Snape said about Hermione being unable to go to the Muggle-born Registration because she had Dragonpox? That's the reason that he gave the Ministry, wasn't it? Well, yesterday I found out that it was a big, fat lie," Theo said with emphasis on the last three words.
"W-what? What do you mean by that?" Ginny asked.
"As you already know, since I sent you all a message through this (points at his crystal pendant), yesterday, my father came here on an errand for the Minister of Magic. Apparently, Lucius wasn't buying Headmaster Snape's excuse regarding Granger's absence so he sent my father to verify it. I'll bet you my entire collection of Chocolate Frog cards that he volunteered himself...but that's beside the point. The fact is, I saw something strange things when we visited 'Granger' at the Infirmary. Luna, what color are Granger's eyes?" Theo said, turning to Luna.
"Well...it depends on her mood...or the lighting," she said in her usual dreamy voice.
Theo rolled his eyes, "Generally speaking, Luna."
"Oh! Then they're usually brown," she chirped happily.
"Exactly! That's what I thought! But, lo and behold! When the 'Granger' who was allegedly recuperating in the hospital wing opened her eyes...they were not brown, but green!" Theo exclaimed.
"What? How could they be green? Does Dragonpox do that to its victims?" asked Ginny.
"I wondered about that, too! So, I went to the library and did some digging. There's never been a case where Dragonpox affected the stricken person's eyes! If the change in her eye color was due to Dragonpox, then this would be a first," said Theo, leaning back in his chair with a smug look.
"Tell her about the the...other thing that you noticed, Theo," suggested Neville.
"Right! How tall do you think Granger is? 5'2"? 5'4"? No need to be accurate, just take a guess," Theo said, grinning.
"Hmm...I'd say around 5'4". She's just a couple of inches shorter than I am and I'm 5'6"," Ginny said.
"And how long, do you think are the beds at the Infirmary? 6 or 7 feet?"
"Around six, I think. George used to complain about them whenever he had to stay overnight due to Quidditch injuries. He used to say that they were designed for midgets."
"So, a 5'4" witch in a 6-foot bed would have just a few inches legroom left, wouldn't you think?"
"Yes...but what does it have to do with Hermione, Theo?" groused Ginny.
"Because my dear Gryfette, the 'Granger' staying in the Infirmary was much shorter than 5'4"," Theo said with a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
Ginny frowned. "I still don't get it. How could you tell that she was much shorter than Hermione? Did you get a measuring tape to confirm your theory?"
"I didn't have to. I saw her feet moving. And they didn't reach even halfway down the bed. It clearly wasn't her! Either that or Dragonpox also has the ability to shrink its victims," Theo said.
"It was a House Elf," Luna piped in. Ginny's and Blaise's jaws dropped to the floor.
"WHAT? What are you talking about, Luna?" asked Blaise.
"Luna, Theo and I were discussing earlier the possibility of Prof. Snape posting a fake Hermione in the Infirmary to cover up her disappearance. And based on Theo's description of the impostor, we concluded that Snape probably enchanted one of Hogwarts' House-elves to look like her," Neville explained.
"And inflicted it with Dragonpox? That is so mean!" Ginny grimaced, disgusted by the thought.
"Oh, no! We're quite sure that it was also just cosmetic. Snape wouldn't do that to the poor creature. You know how he is about treating them with respect. I'll bet you a ton of Gillyweed that the Elf volunteered for the task, too," Neville winked.
"But what about your father, Theo? Didn't he notice anything?" Ginny asked.
Theo laughed. "My father, bless him, was in one of his rare trusting moods yesterday. He asked for my opinion and I gave it without batting an eye. I told him that the 'girl' lying there with green skin covered in disgusting red pustules was indeed Hermione Granger and he readily believed me. Besides, he couldn't stand the rancid smell coming from the tent, so he left as soon as he could."
"That was probably the Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Snape asked me for a few cuttings just the other day. I really thought that he was getting interested in exotic foliage. Smart man," Neville laughed, shaking his head in clear admiration of the Headmaster's cunning. Few people could stand the stench coming from the stinksap of the cactus-like plant. It would've driven even a fearless Death Eater away.
"If that Granger in the Infirmary is not the real Hermione, then where is she?" Ginny asked.
"That's what we'd like to discuss with you. Luna and I have been throwing around a couple of theories," Neville said, turning to smile at Luna.
"Well, let's hear them," Theo said. "I've been entertaining a few of my own, too."
"What if she was taken from the train - kidnapped by some Death Eater?" Neville said.
Theo shook his head. "I doubt that. Why would Lucius send my father here if he already knew where she was?"
Neville's face fell. "Right, he wouldn't have," he mumbled.
"But what if Lucius didn't know? What if it was a rogue Death Eater trying to make a name for himself?" said Ginny. Neville and Luna were nodding in agreement.
"I still think it's highly unlikely. Why would a Death Eater kidnap a Hogwarts student? For what? Ransom? Leverage? No, I don't think that's a likely scenario," Theo argued.
Suddenly, Blaise was laughing; causing four pairs of eyes to look at him like he had grown a second head or an extra arm.
"Care to share what it is that you find so funny, Zabini?" asked Theo.
"I'm sorry! I just realized how brilliant Snape truly is!"
"Well...tell us, Blaise! We're hanging on your every word," Ginny snapped.
"Look, before I tell you, we need to agree on something first, alright?"
"It depends on what we would have to agree on, Zabini," Neville said with a smirk.
"I need you all to promise me that this doesn't leave this room. It could put a few people in danger if this ever goes out. And we need to do a little sleuthing of our own to confirm my theory," Blaise said.
"Alright! Alright! Tell us already," Ginny grumbled, impatience written on her face.
Blaise took a deep breath before plunging ahead. "I think I know where the real Hermione is," he paused, searching his audience's faces. "She's been here in Hogwarts all along, right under our noses - hiding in plain sight!"
"I-I don't understand. How could she be 'hiding in plain sight', Blaise? It's not as if Granger's been living under a rock for six years, mate. In case you haven't noticed, she's quite popular around here," Theo smirked, confident that he had just shot down Blaise's ridiculous theory.
"Right! She's just the freaking Head Girl, for crying out loud. She's very recognizable, too. Damn, that hair alone would give her away!" exclaimed Ginny.
"Unless she changed it," said Luna in her typical airy voice.
Ginny and Theo had to scrape up their jaws from the floor. Strangely, both Neville and Blaise were nodding, knowing smiles painted on their lips.
"Crap! Of course! She could be running around in disguise!" Ginny said, clapping her hands to her mouth.
Theo stared at all of them with blank eyes then gasped.
"Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Theo said as he thumped on his temples with his fists.
"Whoa! What's gotten into you, mate?" Blaise cried, pulling Theo's arms down.
"Bloody hell! Why didn't I think of that? I'm such a moron!" Theo cried, slumping back in his seat. He sighed and leaned his arms forward on his knees. "Remember what I told you about Draco acting strange, Blaise?" he asked, turning to Blaise.
"Draco does that sometimes, mate," Blaise chuckled.
Theo rolled his eyes and huffed, "I know. But more so lately, right? First, I caught him getting cozy with Granger in the hallways..."
"Wait. Draco Malfoy gets cozy with 'Princess Mudblood'?" Ginny interrupted, smirking.
"Please don't call her that," Theo warned, glaring at Ginny.
"Hey, I never called her that. But Malfoy and your gang did," Ginny retorted heatedly.
Theo and Blaise winced. They didn't want to be reminded of that embarrassing truth.
"Yeah, we did. But that was before, okay?" Theo grumbled, his cheeks flaming.
"Water under the bridge. Get back to what you were saying, Theo," Neville said.
"Alright, but don't butt in on me again. It messes with my train of thought," Theo threw a warning glance at Ginny, who gave him a deadly glare, "Please? (Ginny rolled her eyes and nodded) Great! Okay, so as I was saying, Draco had been acting really, really odd lately. First, I saw him getting much too friendly with Granger and in the hallways no less! Then, he gets all defensive when we call her 'Princess Mudblood', even though he was the one who started it. So, if I were you Gryfette, I'd not bandy about that epithet around him. (Ginny threw a raspberry at him, Theo snorted) Anyway, when the Muggle-borns were about to leave for the Registration, we got into talking about Granger about how exceptional she was..IS! (he corrected after getting dagger looks from Ginny)..and how she could be in danger if the Ministry found out about her abilities. Draco got really worked up about it and ran after her. Perhaps to warn her, I don't know. But then, he didn't come back that night. And the next time that I saw him, he was fawning over that girl from Ilvermorny - Abigail Adams." Theo finished triumphantly.
"So? What's your point?" Ginny asked.
Theo threw his arms in the air and gave Ginny a look that seemed to say 'How thick can you get?' "Duh! Were you not listening?"
"Of course I was, moron. I just don't get it. Malfoy's always been a known player. Girls practically drop at his feet. He changes girlfriends as often as he changes his shirts. So, he probably got tired of Hermione and found a new conquest in Abigail," Ginny scowled.
Blaise sighed and took Ginny's hand in his. "Gin, we grew up with Draco. We know him like the back of our hands. Okay, sometimes he's difficult to read. But, major things like this, he can't really hide from us. He was serious about Granger. And he really cared for her like a lot."
"Draco may be a git, loads of times, but he's not really that bad. Those girls that you're talking about most of them were just rumors spread about by the girls themselves. But, he's never been protective of any girl. He's never spent as much time with one either. Until Granger," Theo said.
"So, it's impossible for him to transfer his affections overnight unless..."
"Unless it's the same girl," Luna finished for her.
Ginny gasped and mumbled behind her hands, "Oh, Morgana!"
"Plus, take this into consideration. Abigail Adams showed up the day after Hermione was supposed to have gone to London for the Registration," Neville added. "Only, we learned later on that she really didn't get there. She disappeared."
"Exactly!" Theo laughed triumphantly, relief written on his face. Then, as if remembering something, his face froze and turned deathly white. "Oh, Blaise. Fuck me!"
"I'd rather not, mate," chuckled Blaise.
The others laughed as Theo playfully punched Blaise's arm.
"Well, you're not my type either, dolt. But, seriously. I'm a complete moron!"
"I'm not gonna argue with that," Ginny mumbled. Theo glowered at her.
"What's got your knickers, Theo?" Neville asked, smirking.
"Well, from day one, I had been a complete horror to Abigail. Now, if our assumptions are correct...I would definitely owe her a HUGE apology!" Theo cried.
"That you will, mate, that you will," Blaise thumped Theo on the back.
"But, wait. We seem to be forgetting something. If Abigail truly is the missing Hermione, does that mean that Snape knows all about it?" asked Ginny.
"That seems likely He's the one who introduced Abigail in front of the whole student body. The question is, why did he allow it? Did he do it to protect her from the Minister?" Theo asked.
"Perhaps. Maybe Draco went to him and asked for help," Neville suggested.
Blaise shook his head, "No, Draco's not like that. He's not big on asking for help."
"Damn! This is getting much too complicated for my simple brain. Stop snickering Weaslette," Theo said, but not without humor.
"At least we've solved the mystery of the missing Head Girl," Blaise smiled.
"Yes and in the process opened a deeper, bigger, can of worms," Theo griped.
"But we also know now that Prof. Snape is not really such a terrible Headmaster," Luna piped in.
"So, what are we to do with this new 'revelation'?" asked Ginny.
"We'll keep it to ourselves for now. We've not even confirmed if our deductions are spot on. On second thought, even if we're proven correct, we still should not advertise it. As Blaise had pointed out, it could put people in danger," Neville said.
"But what if the others ask about what I found out yesterday? What are we going to say to them? I did send everyone a message, you know," Theo said.
"Just say that as far as you could tell, it was indeed Hermione at the Infirmary," said Blaise, grinning. Ginny and Neville gave him encouraging smiles. Luna just stared blankly at him.
"You want me to lie to everyone else?"
"It's not really lying per se, Theo. You're just camouflaging the truth."
"It's still lying in my book, Blaise."
"Oh, come on, Theo! It's a white lie!"
"Think of it as doing something for the greater good," Neville said, giving Theo a thumbs up.
Theo seemed unconvinced as he nodded reluctantly.
"By the way, has anyone seen either Draco or Abigail?" Neville asked.
"Draco said that he was going with Abigail to her old school," Theo said.
"To America? Wow! Talk about devotion," Ginny mused.
"It's just a cover story..." Luna said.
"For what?" Ginny and Theo said in unison.
"I don't really know yet, but, I'm sure going to find out," smiled Luna serenely.
o-O-o
Number 12 Grimmauld Place had always exuded a forbidding aura. Not only because it belonged to the Blacks - a family of Pureblood wizards and witches known for their inclination toward the Dark Arts and Blood Supremacy views, but also because of the stories surrounding it. Rumor has it that a number of Muggles and Mudbloods had been tortured and killed within its walls. And that's the reason why no one in the Wizarding World would willingly go near it much less step through its forbidding doors.
So, it really seemed strange, if anyone cared to notice, that it had been getting a steady coterie of visitors all of a sudden. This curious activity began just a little after midnight and had continued on until the wee hours of the morning. Thankfully, it was enchanted to be hidden from Muggle eyes, therefore, even if inquisitive Muggles were to sit before it, all they would see were people disappearing somewhere between No. 11 and No. 13 Grimmauld Place. Of course, they would not tell their neighbors about it, lest they are branded as going loony. They would more likely dismiss the incident offhand and reason that they really didn't see anything.
This haven of dark tales was now under the care of the Black family's only surviving son, Sirius Arcturus Black - another puzzle in his own right. Basically because, Sirius, despite his family's views and stringent traditions, was a known good friend to Half-breeds, Half-bloods, Blood traitors, and Muggle-borns. He would even have added a Muggle or two to his list of acquaintances if he only knew how to befriend them. As of today, however, with the steady stream of people going in and out of his home, making friends was the farthest from the man's mind.
"I'm telling you, Sirius. There's something big going on in his camp," Remus Lupin, Sirius' Werewolf best friend since his Hogwarts days, insisted.
"Even if that's the case, we have no way of confirming it. We'd have to wait for Snape," Sirius said as he poured drinks for Remus and himself. "No matter how distasteful that sounds," he muttered under his breath.
"I feel like we're flying blind here," Remus muttered.
"Welcome to the club, my friend," Sirius said, raising his glass. After one of his friends, Peter Pettigrew, the traitor, had tried to set him up for the murder of a dozen Muggles, Sirius had been on the run without any real news from Wizarding Britain. He was only able to return to England after Dumbledore became Minister of Magic and had cleared him of all charges. So Sirius very well knew what Remus meant by 'flying blind'; he had a year of mastering the feeling.
A loud wailing from the foyer told them that another body would be added to the visitors of 12 Grimmauld.
"I had just been to the Ministry and there were a lot of people running around there like headless chickens," a breathless Kingsley Shaklebolt said as he took a seat near the fireplace. He was one of the few members of the Order who still held a job at the Ministry mainly because he was a Sacred 28 Pureblood with 'no known political affiliations' (he's working undercover for the Order); which meant that the Ministry considered him 'harmless and persuadable'. Most of the group's other members were either in hiding or branded as an 'Undesirable' and therefore banned from holding any Ministry job.
"I bet they are," Arthur Weasley, Blood-traitor and a certified 'Undesirable', scoffed as he placed a tray laden with delicious smelling pudding on the table.
When Dumbledore was ousted, Lucius Malfoy's first order of business was to rid the Ministry of Blood traitors (Muggle lovers) and anyone even remotely suspected of having ties with the renegade Order of the Phoenix. Hardest hit of that mass layoff were the Weasleys since they fit in at least two categories of what the Ministry deemed Undesirable. Arthur and his son, Percy, were the first ones to receive a termination notice. Even Bill, who worked for Gringotts had just been put on 'indefinite leave', which was a nice way of telling him that he should start looking for another job. The twins, Fred and George, had also been receiving threats, but at least they were not yet being pressured to close down their business. Only Charlie, who was breeding dragons in Romania, was the only one who was not directly affected by the Ministry's 'purges'. Molly and Arthur, who were now in full-time service to the Order, had basically taken over the running of 12 Grimmauld Place, to Sirius' everlasting relief.
"Alright, everyone. Grab a bite, grab a bite! Kreacher and I will be preparing more so don't be stingy. There's also lots of tea for everyone," Molly came bustling in with teapots and cups. Trudging behind her was the Black family's house-elf, Kreacher, bearing trays of assorted finger sandwiches. For the next few minutes, nothing but the clinking of teacups was heard as the group took their fill.
Number 12's nearly domestic peace was shattered when another blood-curdling shriek came from the foyer followed by mumbling curses and the heavy clumping of boots.
"Mad Eye's here," said Arthur, sipping his tea. The others nodded. Sirius quietly laughed; his mother hated Moody and the feeling was mutual.
"Sirius! When are you going to take down that horrible, screeching portrait of Walburga from the foyer? If this house wasn't heavily shrouded by magic, she'd be waking the whole damn neighborhood every time someone came in through that blasted door!" growled Moody, his magical eye whizzing maniacally inside his empty eye-socket.
"We tried everything, Moody. It just won't come off! My lovely mother apparently put a permanent sticking charm on her portrait just to piss me off," Sirius griped.
"Well, you better make sure it is kept covered, then! She's getting on my nerves!" grumbled Moody, taking a seat beside Kingsley. "So, Shacklebolt, what's happening at the Ministry?"
"Chaos reigns, Moody. Nobody knows anything, but they're all on high alert," Kingsley replied.
"Typical! What a bunch of nitwits!" barked Moody. He was 'retired' from his post as Auror when Lucius Malfoy was appointed Minister of Magic.
They had just begun to settle in a quiet discussion of the day's various events when another ear-piercing screech cut the air.
"Damn that woman!" Moody roared. "Do something, Sirius!"
"I'll take care of it," said Remus as he set down his cup and rose from his seat.
"Blimey! It's war, I tell you! We're gonna have war! Le' me go, ye deranged bird!" cried an agitated man who a young woman with purple hair was dragging along by the scruff of his neck.
"Tonks! Where did you dig up that filth, cuz?" laughed Sirius.
"I saw him lurking around the corner. Probably trying to peddle these," she said, throwing a dirty bag on the floor.
Remus reached down and opened it. "You better take a look at this, Sirius. I believe Mundungus had been pilfering from your treasury again," he said, casting a jaundiced eye on the culprit.
Sirius took the bag and turned it upside down, spilling its contents on the table. There were a couple of necklaces, three watches, some silver cutlery and picture frames, an ancient-looking bronze candelabra, two silver platters, a crystal ball, and an ornate box decorated with Gaelic symbols.
"Well, well, well, you've been very resourceful, Dung," Sirius said with a raised brow.
"It's Mundungus!" he protested, shaking himself from Tonks' grip.
"You're such a lowlife, Fletcher! I've a mind to slap shackles on your scrawny legs and throw you in the dungeons of Azkaban!" snarled Moody.
"Oh, please, Moody! Yer got no autho...auto...power over none anymore! Dontcha go actin' like ye still git juice! Ye've been sacked!" laughed Mundungus.
Before anyone could react, Mundungus turned stiff as a board and fell flat on his face. The sickening crunch as he made contact with the hard marble floor was his nose breaking.
"Oh, Merlin, Moody! Did you really have to do that?" Molly groaned. Moody sneered and went back to eating a pudding.
Molly sighed, whipped out her wand and pointed it at Mundungus Fletcher. With another wave, she wordlessly flipped Mundungus right-side up. As Mundungus stirred awake, Molly cast a healing charm on his nose and cleaned up all the blood. Mundungus' eyes flew open and catching Moody's malevolent sneer, quickly scampered behind Molly.
"Aw...Molly! Why do you always have to take pity on scum like him?" complained Sirius. "Look at all these," Sirius waved at the scattered loot on the table. "He took all of that from this house, from me! He clearly cannot be trusted!"
"Now, now, Sirius. Mundungus may have a pair of sticky hands on him, but he is as loyal to the Order and to Dumbledore as anyone of us in here. He deserves better treatment than a common criminal," Molly said, hands resting on her plump hips.
"Yeh! Tell 'em, Molly!" Mundungus yelled from behind her.
"Now, don't you go getting sassy with me, Mundungus! I'll be bending your ear in a moment. Don't you dare for a minute think that I'm okay with your thievery! You need to have more self-control or I'll tell Dumbledore what you've been up to," Molly admonished the cringing man.
Mundungus may be a lowlife - a sneaky, little thief, but he would not think twice about putting his life on the line for Dumbledore. He's also useful in getting information from the underground world of outlaws - places where none of the other Order members would be welcome to visit. And that's the reason why Molly promised Dumbledore, before the great wizard went into hiding, that she would not let the others kick Mundungus out of the Order, no matter how much they wanted to.
"I'm sorry, Molly. I was gonnae giv' 'em back! If not fer this yer bird 'ere! I was on me way to tell yer all 'bout wha' I 'eard! Down at the pub, they was all talkin' 'bout war!" Mundungus said, twisting and untwisting his grimy bonnet.
"What war are you talking about, Fletcher? You must've downed quite a bit of rum again, you're most likely drunk when you heard that," scoffed Moody.
"I was nae drunk! I tol' yeh, they was all talkin'! Dem 'ooded bums showin' off 'em dark marks! They was askin' people ter join 'em before war broke out!"
An uncomfortable hush fell in the room. Mundungus may not be well educated, but he was street smart and he could tell the difference between a rumor and the real deal. He also has a knack for remembering entire conversations that he can quote word for word. The only reason why he's never been caught eavesdropping was because of his innate ability to blend in - no one ever saw him when he didn't want to be seen.
"Tell us exactly what you heard, Mundungus," Kingsley said, moving forward. The others followed suit as they waited for Mundungus to start his tale.
Mundungus sighed and sat down before Kingsley. "There were two blokes in black 'oods who came in jest past mi'night. They was not in a good mood. Dem t'rew one of 'em drunks out on the street for bein' too loud. Then, one of dem blokes called the ones playin' cards in the corner. I did nae know dem pers'nally, but dem thugs thru 'en thru. Then, the two blokes shewd 'em their arms. The others nodded 'en asked 'em ter sit wi' em. Bloke one tol' d' thugs 'bout how d' DL will be roundin' up all of dose aginst 'im. Bloke 2 sez," Mundungus then took on a different voice and said, "'After what happened tonight, after what they did to Yaxley and Rowle, the Dark Lord is done being patient. So, before war breaks out, choose your side. We're looking for soldiers. Choose OUR side for we'll be the only ones left standing after this.'" Mundungus paused and reverted to his normal speaking voice, "I di'nt stay long afte' dat! I ran owt and came 'ere ter tel yeh all 'bout wha' I 'eard!"
They were just digesting what they had just heard when another wail from the foyer made them all jump. Moody cursed and angrily thumped his staff. Sirius sighed and ran out, muttering to himself.
When he came back, George and Fred were trudging right behind him looking flushed.
"Bloody hell! Are we having a meeting? Why are you all here?" asked George.
"Fred! George! What are you two doing here?" Molly asked, frowning. She had tried dissuading the twins, all her children, in fact, from getting involved in the activities of the Order.
"Uhm...we might have...some sort of...information," George stammered, blushing. He clearly didn't savor delivering his news in front of his parents, much less his mother.
"Well, don't hold back. Tell us all about it, boys," Arthur encouraged.
The twins looked at each other, then both nodded and took their seats.
"Alright...so...we were out...uh...partying (Molly glared at the twins)...when three assho...erm...men burst into the bar and disrupted the peace. Then, they started brandishing their ugly tattoos. We knew trouble was brewing so we made to leave," Fred paused and glanced at George.
"But when we got to the door, another one of them came striding up," George continued.
"It was Thornton Parkinson, the Slytherin git from our year. His cousin, Pansy, is in Ronniekin's year. Anyway, he started bragging about the coming 'war' and how all of us Blood traitors are going to get our due...blah, blah, blah," Fred said, rolling his eyes.
"He was so annoying that I almost forgot that I'm one of the good guys and therefore not allowed to use any of the Unforgivables. If he hadn't gotten me so bored with all his talking, I would've Avadaed his ass right then and there!" George chuckled, high-fiving his twin. Sirius and Remus were laughing together with Tonks while Moody's magical eye was going crazy in its socket.
"George!" Molly shrieked in outrage.
"Sorry, mum," the twins said, blushing profusely.
"Is that all? Is that what you came all the way here to tell us, boys?" Arthur sighed, sounding just a little bit more exasperated than amused.
"Uhm...actually, no," Fred said, turning to George.
"We actually thought that he was just letting off air, but he said something that caught our attention," George glanced at Fred, who nodded encouragingly.
"He said that we started the war."
"You and Fred started the war..." said Remus.
"No! US - the Order! He said that we just declared war when we attacked Yaxley and his men!"
"That's why we came here as soon as we could. We wanted to know if what he said was true. Because if we did have an operation involving Yaxley, then it just triggered a war," Fred said, his eyes scanning the faces of the people before him, looking for answers.
"As far as the people here are concerned, there wasn't. Heck, we're barely surviving! How can we even think of mounting an operation against his forces," Sirius said in barely concealed ill humor.
"We're not even doing surveillance, are we, Moody?" said Kingsley, turning to Moody. The retired Auror grunted in agreement.
"That's what we thought," George and Fred both said.
"See? I tol' yeh! They's blamin' us fer sumthin'," exclaimed Mundungus.
"But why? And what happened to Yaxley?" asked Tonks, more to herself than anyone else.
"He almost died," said a voice coming from the alcove. They all turned to see Severus Snape leaning against the wall with a deep scowl.
"Severus! Merlin, you almost gave me a heart attack!" squealed Molly.
"How did you do that? Why didn't Walburga scream when you came in?" growled Moody.
"You didn't apparate, did you?" asked Kingsley, biting his tongue as soon as the question left his lips. The wards around 12 Grimmauld were almost as powerful as the ones protecting Hogwarts.
Snape smirked, sauntering into the room. "Such a silly question, Shacklebolt. You very well know that not even Sirius is allowed to apparate into this place. Perhaps, Walburga had just taken a liking to me. She even smiled when I passed by her portrait."
"Well, enough talk about my mother. What news do you bring, Severus?" asked Sirius. "What did you mean by what you just said?"
Snape's eyes roved around the room before settling on Mundungus. "Molly, would you please take Fletcher to the kitchen?"
Molly started to protest but Arthur pulled her aside and whispered in her ear. The matronly witch nodded and rose to her feet.
"Come on, Mundungus. As punishment for your little slip, I'm going to make you peel potatoes without using magic," she said as she grabbed Mundungus by the arm and marched him to the kitchen. When Mundungus' grumbling was beyond hearing, Snape took a seat and sighed.
"Now, talk, Severus. What happened to Yaxley and why is the Order being blamed for it?" asked Sirius, taking a seat right across the Hogwarts Headmaster.
"That's only what the Dark Lord is telling his minions. He wants to flush out the Order," Snape replied, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.
"Yaxley almost died? How?" Remus asked.
"He was apparently sent to America on a mission. It's not really clear how he was almost burned alive. We'd have to wait until he's somewhat recovered. He's now in St. Mungo's together with Thorfin Jr. The Dark Lord sent Avery, Crabbe, and Goyle to retrieve the others."
"Are you saying that Yaxley's mission wasn't connected to the Order?" Arthur asked, frowning.
"Not exactly," Snape hedged.
"What do you mean, not exactly? It's either it is or it isn't!" barked Moody.
"Is there something you're not telling us, Severus?" Remus asked as he tried to figure out what Snape was leaving out.
"Did you orchestrate an operation without consulting us?" Sirius asked quietly.
"Look, it wasn't my idea to hide this from all of you. It was just easier and safer if we kept it to ourselves, to keep everyone in the dark until it was absolutely necessary. After what happened to the Potters, we didn't know who to trust with something as big as this," Snape said.
"We? Who's we, Severus?" Arthur asked.
"Him and Dumbledore," Molly said, settling in the chair beside her husband.
Arthur and the twins gaped at their mother.
"W-what? Are you in contact with Dumbledore? Why didn't you tell us?" cried Tonks.
"Where's Fletcher?" Snape asked, purposely ignoring Tonks.
"Don't worry about him. He's busy peeling a sack of potatoes. He won't be able to hear anything, nor leave that room without me," Molly replied with a smirk.
Snape nodded. He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand through his dark hair. He knew there would be hell to pay once he started telling his tale. But there was no way that he could keep this from them any longer. He must come clean if he were to get their help and complete cooperation. The next twenty-four hours would be crucial to the survival of the Order.
But he needed to clarify something first.
"Molly, how did you know about what Dumbledore and I did?" he asked.
"Oh, I don't know what you two did! But I know you would not do anything without his consent or guidance. And since it seems to be such a big secret, then it definitely involves him," Molly explained with her usual maternal smile.
Snape slowly exhaled the breath that he didn't even realize he was holding. He felt foolish doubting Molly. He'd been under a lot of stress lately and it made him more suspicious than normal. The real reason why he was, until just now, reluctant in telling them about Harry was his fear of a security breach in the group. When Draco told him that the orphanage had been exposed, he thought someone in their group had found out about Draco's and Hermione's assignment and squealed to the Dark Lord. It was a highly remote possibility, but he still could not dismiss it out of hand.
"Well? Aren't you going to tell us what's the connection between us and whatever happened to Yaxley?" Sirius asked, barely hiding his irritation and impatience.
The Hogwarts Headmaster took a deep breath and said, "Yaxley and his men were sent by the Dark Lord to check out an 'unusual occurrence' in America. I don't know how they did it, but they learned about the existence of a certain orphanage in America - the orphanage where the greatest secret of the Order was hidden."
"Greatest secret of the Order? Wow! I didn't see that coming," chuckled Fred. George elbowed him, scowling. Fred blushed and mumbled an apology.
"What are you talking about, Snape? I'm getting tired of your cryptic nonsense," moaned Sirius.
"Spit it out, man. We don't have all day," snarled Moody.
And indeed, we don't, Snape mused.
"Harry Potter. He's the greatest secret that Dumbledore and I hid in an orphanage in America. And the Dark Lord had just found out."
Snape hated the Muggle cliche about hearing a pin drop, but it was very appropriate to what was happening now.
"WHAT? Are you saying that HARRY POTTER, the son of James and Lily Potter, the prophesied Chosen One, MY GODSON, is ALIVE?" roared Sirius. Snape nodded.
BAM!
Fuck! Now, I didn't see that coming.
Those were Snape's last thoughts before everything in his world turned black.
o-O-o
If not for the events of last night, Hermione would have thought that this was heaven. The Fawleys' house was like a five-star hotel, complete with impeccable room service and first-class amenities. It was three stories high, with seven bedrooms (each one with its own bathroom), a study/library, a game room, a fully equipped modern kitchen, a cozy sitting room, and a quaint dining room. The four-poster beds were made of thick, marshmallow-soft mattresses covered in fragrantly clean, white sheets and lots of fluffy pillows. And the food! The children had to be physically restrained from raiding the cupboard filled with all kinds of cereals, candies, jams, biscuits, and chocolate.
It was actually better than a five-star hotel. Even Draco was impressed. And that's saying a lot.
They had arrived there last night, bedraggled, hungry, and terrified. At first, they thought that they would not be able to find the house since neither she nor Draco recognized the name of the street. Thankfully, the tall girl, Jamie, shared Henry's fascination for maps and had a photographic memory. When Draco gave her the Fawleys' address, she took over and led them straight to their destination within an hour of walking. They didn't know what to expect when they got there, but it was way better than they had hoped for. After Draco whispered the password to a sleepy Owl door-knocker, it opened to reveal two, smiling house elves in neat, periwinkle dresses. A bed and a hot bowl of soup would've sufficed, but what they were treated to made even the terrible happenings at St. Milburga's temporarily forgotten.
But only temporarily. Because neither of the Figgs had shown up last night. And that did not bode well. Exhaustion overtook them all, however, so they were not able to dwell on it and had to set their concerns aside to be dealt with after their much-needed rest.
"Good morning, beautiful."
Hermione smiled, leaning back against the bare chest of the man whose arms were wrapped around her waist. She could feel his breath tickling the back of her neck.
"Good morning to you, too, handsome," she said, turning around so she could see him even though she knew he had gone back to sleep. But it was okay. She actually preferred watching him while he slept. She tended to drown in his hypnotic silver-gray eyes when he's staring at her. She would never get tired of looking at him. He was just so beautiful - especially when he's all sleepy and relaxed. There were no hard lines or frowns to mar his elegant brows, no implacable slanting of his lips, no arrogant smirks, no masks of any kind. And that's what she loved the most - when he's just plain and simple Draco. Although, with his aristocratic features, he could never, ever be considered plain.
She leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Hermione shivered. How could he make her melt with just a simple, chaste kiss? It seemed unfair - the way he had so much power over her. Still, she would happily grant him that. Hermione chuckled inside. If anyone told her a year ago that she would be snuggling in bed with Draco Malfoy, the biggest prat she'd ever known and the bane of her existence, getting all girly and giggly after kissing him, she would have hexed that person to kingdom come.
Yet there she was, getting weak in the knees just staring at his sleeping face, thinking of the wicked things she'd like to do to him and with him. What she felt for Draco, however, went way beyond the physical. And it wasn't even because of his looks. She had long ago acknowledged, even when she still 'hated' him, that he was indeed a very fine male specimen, but that was just an added bonus and not the basis of her attraction to him.
At first, she really did hate him. For years, she had tried to brush off his taunting and annoying barbs. She wanted to show him that she was not being affected by his obvious disdain and hateful words. She figured that if she just kept on ignoring him, she would get used to his mockery. But then, she realized that only Draco had that ability - to wound her with just plain words. She had been called 'Mudblood' by almost the whole of Slytherin House, yet it didn't hurt as much as it did when it was him saying the slur to her face. It didn't help either when she came to the conclusion that deep inside, she wanted his approval.
And she battled with that thought for years. Why ever would she want him to see her in a different light? Why did she care if he liked her or not? It wasn't as if she was starved for attention, she had enough of that from her doting parents and loving friends. Still, she felt that there was something missing. She even came to a point where she begrudgingly admitted to herself that she was infatuated with the 'Slytherin Prince'. The thought horrified her so much she did everything in her power to disprove it. She was just intrigued by him and her interest in Draco Malfoy was 'clinical', like the way one studied a bug.
In sixth-year, things changed a little. Her concern for him grew. She knew something wasn't right with him. He seemed withdrawn and always brooding. He didn't hang out with his usual gang much either. She had told Harry and Ron about her observations, but of course, they thought the worst of him. Then, strange things started happening. Harry kept on accusing Draco of being the one behind all of them because he was a Death Eater. She tried to reason with him, but Harry was not to be dissuaded and had taken it upon himself to expose Draco for what he believed he truly was, the culmination of which was when he almost killed Draco with a curse he copied offhand from the mysterious Half-Blood Prince's Potions book. She was beside herself with worry and tried to convince herself it was really because she didn't want Harry to become a murderer. Her belief that Draco was not really doing anything bad, as Harry and Ron kept on insisting, was cruelly quashed when he let Death Eaters into Hogwarts resulting in the death of their beloved Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. By then, she had to accept Harry's view of Draco. So, she focused her attention on Ron and for a while, she really believed she was falling for her best friend. She should've known better. One may change their minds, but never their hearts.
When the trio was captured and brought to Malfoy Manor, she had prayed she would not be forced to see him. She didn't want to look at his gloating face or hear his cruel jibes. She was slightly taken aback when she saw him, though. He looked terrible, thinner than she remembered, with dark circles under his eyes and an uncharacteristic furtiveness about him. And when Bellatrix tortured her right in front of Draco, she could've sworn he suffered just as much as she did, if not even more. It reinforced her premise that Draco wasn't truly evil. She wasn't really shocked when she saw him fighting on their side during the Battle of Hogwarts.
When things with Ron fell apart and she was forced to work closely with Draco as Head Prefects, Hermione saw a side of him she never knew existed. Slowly, the feelings she had savagely buried inside started crawling up to the surface. Was it any surprise it only took one little nudge for everything to come spilling out? And she has as yet to regret welcoming him into her arms.
He could calm her fears, make her believe in herself and that things would always work out fine. Yet, he, himself, seemed to be perpetually plagued with so many fears and insecurities. He was perfect in his imperfections. And she loved him with every bit of her heart and soul. She would do anything for him, be everything to him.
"I love you, Draco," she whispered, certain that he wouldn't hear.
"I love you, too, Hermione," he whispered back, his lips breaking into a self-satisfied grin.
She gasped and playfully slapped his arm.
"You sneak! You've been awake the whole time!" she groaned.
He laughed and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "I greeted you first, didn't I? That should've clued you in on my state of wakefulness."
"Ugh! I take back what I just said! I don't love you! I hate you, Draco Malfoy!"
He chuckled and gently pushed her away so he could look into her eyes. "No, you don't. I would've felt my heart breaking into a million pieces if you truly had stopped loving me."
"Really? Would I break your heart if I stopped loving you?"
"Most definitely, sweetheart. You should know by now that your love is the only thing that keeps me going."
She reached up, pulled him down to her waiting lips and kissed him with all the passion she felt burning inside her. She moaned into his lips when he responded in kind. Their kiss would've progressed to something more had it not been for the loud rapping on the bedroom door.
Draco cursed and hid his head under the fluffy pillows. Hermione laughed as she threw the comforter aside and jumped to her feet, casting the incantation to change her appearance into Abigail Adams again. When she opened the door, Jamie and Elena (the shorter girl) were standing outside, their tear-streaked faces looking up at her.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, a cold shiver of fear running down her spine.
The two girls burst through the door and lunged at Hermione, hugging her waist as their bodies were wracked with heart-rending sobs.
"What happened?" Draco asked, pulling a shirt on as he walked towards them.
The girls only wailed louder.
"Okay, okay. Tell us what happened. Please?" Hermione pleaded.
Draco gently pulled Elena away, cooing words of comfort. Elena looked up and seeing Draco's encouraging smile wrapped her arms around him.
"They're gone. They're gone, aren't they?" Jamie said, over and over, her tears soaking Hermione's jumper. "They're gone! And we left them there!"
"Who's gone, sweetheart?" Hermione asked, although she somehow knew the answer.
"Mr. and Mrs. Figg," Elena cried.
Draco gave her a look that told her that he had already anticipated Elena's answer.
"Who told you that?" Hermione asked, gently extricating herself from Jamie's arms.
"N-no one. B-but...they didn't come here last night…and…t-there's a-a man downstairs. T-twinkle c-called him M-Master," Jamie mumbled.
"Fawley? He's here?" Draco said, turning to Hermione. Without waiting for her to reply, Draco went rushing out the door, dragging a sobbing Elena behind him.
"Come on, Jamie. Let's go downstairs. I think we're about to meet our host," Hermione said, leading the girl out of the room and down the stairs.
She had expected to see Emmet but saw a bespectacled, older version of him standing in the foyer talking to Draco in his place instead. He must be Emmet's father.
"Mr. Fawley?" she asked tentatively when she reached the two.
"Ah! You must be Ms. Adams. Call me Gordon. My son has told me all about you. Both of you! (He added the last after seeing Draco's scowl), "Happy to make your acquaintance. I would have preferred meeting under different circumstances, but what can we do, eh?" the older Fawley said, offering his hand to Hermione, which she gladly took.
"Honored to meet you, Gordon," Hermione said.
Draco leaned down and whispered something to Elena, who was still holding on to his hand. The girl nodded, grabbed Jamie's hand and pulled her in the general direction of the kitchen.
Gordon Fawley nodded and led them to the sitting room. "I'm afraid I'm the bearer of bad news this morning, Ms. Adams, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps we should all have a seat," he said, indicating the plush couches and comfortable-looking armchairs. When they were both seated, Gordon went to the minibar and poured himself a shot of Firewhiskey. "I know it's a bit early for Ogden's Old, but after I tell you what I had seen, you will understand." He downed the drink in one big gulp, wincing as he put the glass down.
"Argh! That didn't go down so well," he groused, sitting in the armchair directly in front of Draco and Hermione.
"By the way, how are you finding your accommodations? Twinkle and Mimsy are treating you well, I hope?" Gordon said, his eyes smiling behind his spectacles.
Draco and Hermione nodded. "Everything's perfect, sir," Draco said.
"Good, good," the man said, nodding absently, seemingly lost in thought.
"Sir, you said that you're the bearer of bad news..." Hermione paused, turning to Draco.
"Yes, it's about the Figgs..."
"Did you see them, sir?" asked Draco. "Sir? Are you okay," he said after Gordon failed to reply.
"Oh! Sorry! Sorry, I was just thinking. What was your question?"
"The Figgs, sir? What happened to them?"
Gordon took a deep breath, shook his head and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. His eyes had a haunted look that chilled Hermione in spite of the thick jumper that she was wearing.
"When we arrived at St. Milburga's before dawn this morning, it was already crawling with cops. Thankfully, my companion and I had anticipated this so we were wearing our own transfigured NYPD uniforms, giving us the ability to blend in. The scene that greeted us, however, we weren't prepared for. The orphanage had been practically destroyed, but the Figgs were still there..."
"Still there? Were they badly injured? Why weren't they taken to the hospital right away?" Hermione asked, hoping against hope that her fears would not be realized. But it was not to be.
With another shake of his head, Gordon looked up at them, the horror of what he had seen clearly reflected in his eyes. "What we saw is beyond words. It's a sight that no one should ever be forced to see. Their bodies were badly burned in the fire, but we still saw faint traces of the curses used on them. The Muggle policemen did not recognize the telltale signs of dark magic, of course, but we did," he paused and took another deep breath before continuing. "They were tortured really bad, by Death Eaters. I regret to say that they died horribly."
Tears fell down Hermione's cheeks. She hardly knew the Figgs, but from what little she did know about them, garnered from the short time they had stayed at the orphanage, she saw a glimpse of how wonderful they were, of how they loved the children like their own and would do anything for them. She saw how they were strong and courageous with hearts of gold. They stayed behind - sacrificed themselves - to give her and Draco enough time to bring the children - their children - to safety.
They could have come away with them, raising the possibility of being followed, and thereby putting the children at greater risk. By staying behind, they had ensured that the Death Eaters' attention remained focused on them and them alone. A warm arm wrapped around her shoulder and she leaned back against the familiar comfort of Draco's body. When she looked up at him, she saw mournful gray eyes brimming with unshed tears looking down at her. There was sorrow in those orbs, but behind that, she also saw a ferocious anger brewing just beneath the surface. He would never let this incident go unpunished or un-avenged. She felt the same way.
They would mourn later, his eyes seemed to say. And she agreed wholeheartedly. For now, they needed to find the culprits behind this tragedy.
"Gordon, you said that they were tortured by Death Eaters. Just how did you know that? Were there bodies other than the Figgs? Bodies with the dark mark?" she asked.
"No, only the Figgs remained. There was a Death Eater mask left behind, though, which I was able to take without the Muggle cops noticing. I know they are quite unique and designed specifically for its owner, like an identification of some sort. I thought it might help us find their killer."
Draco disengaged himself from Hermione and leaned forward. "May I see it?" he asked.
Gordon hesitated. He looked like he wanted to ask Draco something, but thought better of it. He reached into his coat pocket and took out a small, silver item. After returning the object to its normal size with a tap of his wand, he passed it on to Draco.
Hermione looked at the mask with a combination of disgust and admiration. If it didn't signify something so vile, she would've considered it beautiful. The mask was formed to mould the wearer's face in a dull silver finish at the front and the back, the one that touched the skin, was lined in soft, black velvet. The intricate etching that framed the eye sockets and the cheekbones were proof of the maker's impeccable craftsmanship while the tiny diamonds and emeralds that arched to form eyebrows screamed of wealth and privilege - things that characterized the elite.
"It's Yaxley's," Draco said as he turned the mask delicately in his hands. "You're right in saying that each mask is unique, Gordon. It helps them identify each other easily, even with masks on."
"Yaxley? Are you sure? Isn't he…"
"In the Dark Lord's inner circle? Yes," Draco said, nodding.
"Then, that means that the Dark Lord himself sent them," Hermione said.
"Yes, possibly. Draco, would you know if Yaxley is allowed to work on his own, I mean, go on a mission without the Dark Lord's knowledge or approval?" Gordon asked.
Hermione felt Draco stiffen beside her. This was not their original timeline, after all, and things could be different here. She understood why Draco was hesitating to answer, he didn't want to give out false information if he could help it.
"You mean, is he allowed to act independently?" Gordon nodded. "I-I'm not really sure. Safer to assume he was acting under orders from the Dark Lord. As far as I can remember, only my fa-" he choked. Hermione squeezed his hand. "Only Lucius had been given that… pleasure and privilege," he finished, nearly hissing at the end.
"If that's the case, then we need to act quickly. You have to go home as soon as possible. This could be the beginning of war…" Gordon trailed off as he slowly stood from his chair, his eyes focused on something behind them.
"War, indeed. If it's what they want, then that's what they'll get," said a very familiar voice.
Hermione's breath caught in her throat as Draco turned to her, his eyes as big as saucers. He recognized that voice as well. Holding on to Draco's arm, Hermione let him guide her to her feet. Tears fell down unabated when she turned to see the most welcome sight she had ever seen since they were viciously flung into this alternate timeline. Standing by the entrance of the sitting room was the very image of her best friend, her brother, her hope. She would've flown into his arms and hugged him until he passed out, if only she didn't remember that in this substitute reality, he wasn't really all that to her. Still, she couldn't help but feel relief at finally coming face to face with this timeline's version of him.
"Henry? Henry James?" she asked before she could stop herself.
"No, Henry James is dead. My name is Harry Potter."
A/N: hahahaha Wasn't that last line just too cliche? hehe (Couldn't help my self, sorry!) Anway...I'd really like to hear from you, my dears. Is the story dragging? Are the chapters getting too long and hard to read? Please let me know...I live to please! harhar
'Til next time, my sweeties!
xoxoxo
Liz