A/N: Thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I'm glad that people have been enjoying it. And a special thanks to Bonnie and Mainsail for beta reading this and thus improving on the original. If you have questions or concerns about what's going on, feel free to include them in a review or a PM — I'll try to answer.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.
Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "Rocking the Boat" by DerLaCroix. After being assaulted by Vernon as soon as they get home at the start of the summer before fifth year, Harry decides to leave Privet Drive. Chased by the Order, he goes to the only person he thinks he can trust: Hermione. She frees him from bonds he didn't even know he had, and soon the two of them are off on an adventure that Hermione only ever read about in the racy novels she secretly reads.
Chapter 29 - I Got You Babe
Monday, November 29, 1995, Afternoon.
"Was that one of Jasmine's elves?" Walburga asked as Sirius walked into the hallway holding a letter.
"It was her elf, yes," Sirius answered. "Dobby."
"And he left already? Those two are always so tired when they travel between here and Hogwarts. They need to rest. They won't be much good if they exhaust themselves."
"You think I don't know that?" Sirius responded. "I tell them to rest, but they refuse. They are amazingly dedicated to their mistresses, and after all those girls have gone through, they absolutely hate to leave them alone for any great length of time. I can't say that I blame them, but I worry about what might happen, too."
Just then, Kreacher came walking by, muttering, "Miserable, disobedient, interfering, no-good elves always making more work..."
"What's wrong with Kreacher?" Walburga asked, confused.
Sirius smirked. "Kreacher doesn't like Dobby and Winky."
"Whyever not? I'd have expected him to have more regard for such dedicated elves!"
"I thought I told you about this," Sirius answered. "You remember that back during the summer, I had Kreacher keep the house looking bad so that the Weasleys would keep having something to clean up, thus keeping them out of my hair?" At Walburga's nod, he went on, "Well, I forgot to let Jasmine and Hermione in on that little scheme. They decided that they wanted to help me with the house, so they told their elves to pop in every couple of days and do some secret cleaning at night — not too much, just enough to help the Weasleys without being obvious."
"So... Kreacher was making things worse while the other two were reversing what he was doing?"
"Exactly!" Sirius said. "And since Dobby and Winky were told to avoid Kreacher, neither side knew about what the other was doing until the very end when Kreacher stumbled upon them and threw a fit!"
For the first time ever, Sirius was treated to the sight of his mother laughing. She clearly tried hard not to, but in the end she couldn't help herself. "Oh, poor Kreacher!" she finally said once she caught her breath.
"I'm rather proud of them for thinking to do that," Sirius said. "It goes to show how willing they are to take action when they see something that needs to be done."
"It also shows how important it is to keep them informed about what we're doing," Walburga added. "Denying them information leads to misunderstandings."
Sirius nodded. "There are a few things that I haven't told them, but maybe I should. Or we should, I guess. Their Occlumency should be improved enough by the holidays."
"Good," Walburga said with satisfaction. "Now, did they have anything important to say in their letter?"
"Nothing huge," Sirius replied as he read down the parchment. "Umbridge is getting worse, as we warned them she would. It's becoming harder to get the Quibbler into the school, but they are succeeding so far. The most interesting thing may be the lessons they are still getting from Albus. Hermione thinks he's working up to something important — that he wouldn't be spending so much time drawing out these lessons if it were simply to give them some insight into Voldemort's childhood and psychology."
Walburga nodded in agreement. "I've wondered the same thing myself. He's been an educator all his life, and a good one, too. I may not have liked him as a person, and his politics have always left much to be desired, but there was no denying that he was a good teacher. So all of this must have an important point — something that makes the time and effort worthwhile. I just don't know what."
"The most important things that he needs to tell them about are the prophecy and horcruxes," Sirius pointed out. "I don't see how either of them would require the build-up he's working on."
Walburga considered the problem before finally saying, "I don't see a connection either. Both can be understood without all of that background material, even if the material might help. Perhaps you should push him to reveal the truth over the holidays. Give him an ultimatum. Then we'll see if he rushes those 'lessons' or continues them afterwards anyway."
Sirius nodded slowly. "I suppose I can do that. Jasmine and Hermione need that information sooner rather than later anyway. I'll contact him about having another meeting together, maybe after the next Order meeting here."
Tuesday, November 30, 1995, Evening.
"My Lord," Bellatrix said as she bowed low in supplication. "Command me, and I will obey."
"We know you will, Bella," Voldemort said. "That's why We have called you in here. We have an important project which We are giving to you."
She looked up at him on his throne, her eyes shining with adulation. "Whatever it is that you wish, consider it done!"
"Good," he said with a chilling smile, then handed her a piece of parchment. "Here is a list of names and addresses. Each name is of a witch currently attending Hogwarts — a witch who has become close to Potter and who dared stand up to Our servants when they attacked Hogsmeade last month."
"They deserve death for that!" Bellatrix hissed.
"Exactly, Bella," responded Voldemort, "and that will be your task. We want you to scout each address, find out how many people live there, then devise a plan that will let you attack each location on the same night with the forces currently at our disposal. We want each of those witches dead."
"What of their families?" she asked with a hungry look in her eyes.
Voldemort pondered that for a moment. "Leave them alive for now. Alive, but not unscathed. You may torture and curse them, but they must be alive and sane at the end. Broken parents who have lost their children will spread more fear and uncertainty right now than dead bodies will."
"Yes, my Master," she replied as she bowed again.
"Burn their homes, too, but leave no evidence that would point to Our having returned. Do you understand?"
"Absolutely," she assured him.
"We would like the attack to take place just before they return to Hogwarts in January. We give you three weeks to gather all the intelligence you need, then two more weeks to train Our servants to carry out your plan. We want to see your plan by the end of next month, though."
"Of course — I will begin gathering information tonight! I won't rest until all those who oppose you lie dead at your feet!"
"You will not be able to use all of Our servants, however," Voldemort cautioned her. "Rookwood requires a few to help on an even more important mission." When he saw that she was about to volunteer for that mission too, he held up a hand. "It's a project in the Ministry, and Rookwood knows the Ministry better than you. You would not have been suited to such a task."
"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix said, chastened. "I will not question your orders."
"Very good," Voldemort said. "The attack which Thaddeus planned for Hogsmeade did not go so well because of those witches. We would have punished him harshly had he returned, even though the mission itself was more successful than not. He at least had the excuse that he could not have expected young witches to have put up such a fight. You, however, will have no such excuse. Remember that."
"I understand," Bellatrix said. "I will prove to you that I am far better than Nott!"
"Excellent," Voldemort said. "You may leave, then." As he watched her exit his throne room, he once again questioned the wisdom of having such an insane witch working for him. Then again, he thought, where else would We find someone who enjoys being in pain almost as much as We love causing it?
Wednesday, December 1, 1995, Morning.
"Amelia, beautiful as ever!" Sirius exclaimed as he bent forward, taking Madam Bones' hand and gently kissing it. "I never did get a chance to thank you for helping me prove my innocence. Perhaps you'd consent to join me for dinner one evening this week so I can express my gratitude more... personally?"
"Sirius Black," Madam Bones said rather sternly as the now well-dressed Marauder took a chair on the other side of her desk. "It's been a month. I know that I didn't give you a specific time-frame in which I wanted you to meet with me, but I did expect you sooner than this. A lot sooner."
Sirius looked a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry about that, Amelia. I was frankly amazed at how much I had to do once I was free. Well, no, not so much 'amazed' as 'completely overwhelmed.' Gringotts alone required several day-long meetings to go over accounts, investments, loans, and whatnot. I had old family alliances to shore up, other alliances to break... and I'm still not done! I allowed you to fall to the bottom of the list of things to take care of and... well, I shouldn't have. I'm truly sorry."
For the first time since he had entered the office, he saw the barest hint of a smile appear on her face. "I guess I can understand that. It's hard on anyone just let out of prison, and I suppose you've had it harder than most. Let's forget about it and get down to business."
"Perhaps I can express my sincere apologies in a less formal context... like over dinner some time this week?" Sirius asked hopefully.
"Business," Bones reiterated, arching one eyebrow.
"Very well — what is it you needed from me first?" Sirius asked resignedly.
"First and foremost," Bones said, "I need to know how exactly you managed to escape from Azkaban. You were the first and only... well, no, I guess that's not true anymore. I'm so used to thinking of you that way that I tend to forget what Alastor told us about Crouch Jr. Unless you had outside help as well, you're the first to escape Azkaban alone. That means there is a security hole that we need to plug."
"I didn't realize you were still using Azkaban."
"We're not at the moment," Bones admitted. "We're going to have to rework security from the ground up, preferably without the use of Dementors. This is simply one part of that project. The fact that we aren't desperate for that information right now is one reason why I'm not angrier at you for taking so long to meet with me."
"Just so we're clear," Sirius said carefully, "since I never had a trial and was never legally incarcerated in the first place, it wasn't illegal for me to break out, right? That means that I can't be arrested, charged, fined, or prosecuted for anything I did to escape?"
Bones narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Normally I'd say yes, but now you have me worried." After a moment's thought, she continued, "I guess I have to say yes anyway, despite my better judgment. But that only applies if you didn't cause any serious harm. If you killed or maimed anyone, I'm charging you with that crime. If you merely knocked them out... well, I guess I can overlook a case of simple assault, given the circumstances. Though an apology to the person would go a long way to help."
Sirius smiled and stood up. "That won't be necessary," he said just before he transformed into a large Grim. Putting his front paws on the edge of Bones' desk, his long tongue lolled out in a doggy grin as she jumped up out of her chair and took a step back in surprise.
"Woof!"
"Sirius Black!" she exclaimed. "You... you old dog, you!"
"Woof! Woof!" he replied, always amused by puns, no matter what form he happened to be in.
"Fine," she said as she sat back down. "You're an animagus. An illegal one, too, since I don't remember seeing this in your file."
"Woof!"
"Oh, transform back," she said impatiently.
Sirius was almost immediately back in his human form and sitting in his chair. "So, no charges for being an illegal animagus?"
"No, but you'll need to register."
"I'd... rather wait on that, if I can," he replied. "Until You-Know-Who is stopped, it's an invaluable advantage that no one knows about."
Bones nodded. "I can understand that. I'll make a notation in your file and seal it so that only the Head of the DMLE can read it. That will count as your official notification to the Ministry. If it doesn't happen to make it to the animagus list, well... that's not your fault, is it?"
"Thanks," Sirius said with a smile. "I'll owe you one."
Bones responded with a smile of her own, though this one a bit more predatory. "Good, I'll be sure to collect. Now how did being an animagus help you?"
Sirius gulped audibly, suddenly a bit worried about the deal he'd made. "Well, being a dog helped protect me from the effects of the Dementors — they didn't pay attention to animals. That kept me mostly sane. Once I realized Peter was alive, I had a reason to leave, and luckily my dog form was thin enough to slip through the bars. Since the Dementors mostly ignored animals, well, I trotted out at a time when the human guards were looking the other way."
Bones shook her head. "So simple and obvious, but no one ever thought about it. OK, that means we'll definitely have to take precautions against animagi. Maybe something to prevent transformation."
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" he asked.
"Perhaps," she answered. "I put a lot of effort into getting your trial, and it wasn't all for the sake of justice. It was also to eventually get rid of Fudge so we can better defend our society against You-Know-Who. I'd like your help with both, if possible."
Now it was Sirius' turn to give a predatory smile.
Wednesday, December 1, 1995, Evening.
"She shot you down, didn't she?" Remus asked, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.
"Get stuffed, Moony," Sirius growled. "I'm not out of the game yet. I'm just... a little rusty, is all."
"Oh, is that what you call it?" Remus asked as Tonks snickered in the background.
"Of course," Sirius insisted. "Back in Hogwarts, there wasn't a single witch who could resist my charms."
"Eww, even the little firsties?" Tonks asked. "That's sick."
"Put a sock in it, Nymphadora," Sirius retorted, earning a roll thrown at his head. "I need to get in the swing of things again. You'll see."
"Maybe you'd find it easier to attract a witch today if you hadn't gone through so many of them at Hogwarts," Remus pointed out. "You got a bit of a reputation."
"That, and prison didn't help," Tonks chimed in.
"What can I say? None of them could keep up with me — I had a pretty strong libido. And now that it's coming back, it needs to be satisfied." He looked a bit smug as he returned his attention to his meal.
"Sure, Padfoot, sure," Remus said."Whatever you say."
Thursday, December 2, 1995, Evening.
"I assume you're going to need more distractions on the night of the twenty-second?" Filius asked as he sipped his tea.
"Yes, and thank you," Minerva replied..
"You didn't have too many problems last time, did you?" Fleur asked.
Filius shrugged. "It wasn't difficult, but she's such an odious woman to be around regardless of the circumstances. To have to actively seek out her company... well, let's say that there aren't many people I'd be willing to make such a sacrifice for."
"We probably won't need as long for Yule as we did for Samhain, will we?" Minerva asked.
"Actually, I zink Adrienne plans on celebrating both sunset and sunrise for ze solstice," Fleur responded, "So we would need to leave in ze afternoon and won't return until breakfast ze next day."
"That will be a long night," Filius sighed. "One of these days I hope I'll get a chance to see one of the rituals. Everything I hear about them makes them seem spectacular."
"One of zese days we will not have to hide," Fleur said a little sadly. "I do not know how long zat will be, zough."
Friday, December 10, 1995, Late Morning.
The one-year anniversary of Jasmine and Hermione becoming a couple arrived faster than either of them had anticipated. Normally they were so busy that they found it difficult to keep track of such dates, but they were determined to make time for this one, regardless of what it did to their schedule. They were glad that it happened to fall on a Friday, making it easier to stay up a bit later than usual.
Originally Jasmine had assumed she'd be making the arrangements, but Hermione put a stop to that right away. Jasmine had taken the lead on planning most of their important dates, and Hermione wanted to have a chance at doing the same.
She had an idea for the Room of Requirement that she'd been mulling over for a while, and now seemed the perfect time to try it out. During the break between Arithmancy and lunch, she called in Dobby and Winky to get their input on the food, and the excited elves were only too happy to help plan the menu.
With Hermione maintaining strict veto power, of course.
Friday, December 10, 1995, Evening.
"This is amazing!" Jasmine exclaimed, gazing around her in awe. "Are we outside? How did you manage this?"
They were standing on a grassy area edged by bushes and young trees. Around them were elegantly sculpted planters full of evening primroses, moonflowers, and night-blooming jasmine, their fragrance drifting towards them on the warm breeze. The soft chirping of crickets competed with the trickle of running water which could be heard coming from somewhere nearby. Fairy lights sprinkled the trees, but otherwise Jasmine couldn't quite tell where the light was coming from.
Laid out on the grass was a blanket and a picnic basket.
"Do you like it? It's basically a big greenhouse," Hermione said with no small amount of pride. "A greenhouse is a kind of room, right? Anyway, I thought it might be a nice antidote to Scotland in December. A moonlight picnic, maybe a little stargazing..."
Jasmine looked up, and sure enough, there were stars winking overhead.
"I couldn't quite swing actual daylight," Hermione continued apologetically, "but I figured if the ceilings were high enough, something like the spell in the Great Hall that shows the weather outside might make for a suitable sky. Fortunately the Room was able to oblige me."
"It's brilliant," Jasmine said eagerly, lifting her face to drink in the breeze. "I've never been an outdoorsy kind of person, but I feel like I haven't seen a living plant outside of Herbology in months. I... I dunno, I guess I've missed it."
"I know what you mean," Hermione said with a smile. "Well, come on — picnicking awaits!" She took her girlfriend's hand and led her over to the blanket. "We wouldn't want all the elves' hard work to go to waste, would we?"
They stretched themselves out and proceeded to have a leisurely, romantic meal filled with plenty of finger foods to feed each other... and nary an oyster or avocado in sight. Afterwards they snuggled together and gazed up at the stars, occasionally kissing or sharing their dreams for what their future together might bring. Mostly, though, they were content to enjoy the peace and tranquility in each other's arms.
All in all, it was a perfect evening for their first anniversary. Or at least it was once they snuck back into the dorm and disappeared behind Hermione's sealed and silenced bed curtains.
Theodore Nott spent at least twenty minutes walking back and forth along the seventh floor corridor, desperate to get the Room of Requirement to appear. When he finally figured out that there must be someone else in there already, he spent over an hour more lurking in the same corridor, trying to see who might come out and hoping to get a little time in there after them.
Eventually he had to give up and leave, but by then it was well after curfew. Before he could make it back to the Slytherin dorm all the way down in the dungeon, he was cornered by Snape, who had been looking for him. Much to his chagrin, he was forced to endure yet another offer of help — an offer which he spurned without a second thought, like all the others. Getting some help (or even some guidance) was all too tempting, but the Dark Lord had made it clear that he was to fulfill his two tasks alone: open a way into the castle for the Dark Lord's servants while harassing the muggle-loving Headmaster with attempts on his life. And after what had happened to his father, he couldn't afford to fail...
Nearby, Blaise Zabini watched and listened while Daphne Greengrass stood guard.
Sunday, December 12, 1995, Afternoon.
"The last two times you insisted on seeing me, you had some rather surprising things to tell me," Dumbledore said as he gently lowered himself to the couch. "So I must confess, I was both concerned and curious when you contacted me yesterday about another meeting."
"Nothing quite so dramatic as the last two times," Sirius assured the headmaster, "but it is important, and it's something I wanted to talk to you about sooner rather than later to give you time to prepare. But how are you doing? You still seem to be moving rather gingerly."
Dumbledore smiled and waved a hand dismissively. "I'm still not completely well, but I'm much better than I was. I seem to improve a little every day, at least so long as I don't overdo it. Sadly, my responsibilities are such that not overdoing it is a difficult goal to achieve."
"I can't say I'm surprised, but I'm glad to hear that you are getting better," Sirius replied. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about Jasmine. I think it's time she was informed about the horcruxes and the prophecy — the full prophecy, not merely the first lines."
"Sirius," Dumbledore said with a frown, "I don't think that's a good idea. She's far too young for such a burden."
"The real burden is constantly being targeted for murder," Sirius insisted. "The real burden is having to fight for her life every year in your school. Knowing why she's targeted for murder won't add nearly so much as you seem to think."
"It's not simply knowledge of why Voldemort is after her," Dumbledore protested.
"Then what is it?"
"It's not something that I can risk getting out. Voldemort would do anything to obtain that information."
"I'm quite skilled at Occlumency, if that's what you're worried about," Sirius said. "Jasmine and Hermione are getting proficient at it as well. They practice every night and have been doing so for quite a few months."
Dumbledore's eyes widened briefly in surprise. "Really? That is interesting. Useful, too. It's good to know that a passive use of Legilimency can't be used to take important information from her, but that doesn't address my other concerns."
"My goddaughter is already carrying a heavy load," Sirius argued. "She has been ever since she was brought into the wizarding world. Too much, frankly, and if I'd been free I'd have done something to stop it — as you should have, but didn't. We can't change the past, though, so we have to deal with what we have now. That means helping her as much as we can — and I think it requires that she be informed about the full story. In a sense, she's already burdened by these things, but she doesn't know why yet... and knowing might make it easier. She needs to know why he keeps coming after her. She needs to know how he's able to avoid dying. She needs to know what she is up against."
Dumbledore sat silently, deep in thought.
"Unless, of course, you can guarantee that Jasmine will never have to fight Voldemort again in the future," Sirius offered. "I could take her out of the country, finish her education elsewhere. Then she need not learn anything more about him."
Dumbledore couldn't hide the panic he momentarily felt. "Are you saying that you would remove her from Britain if I refuse your request?"
Sirius shook his head. "As much as I'd like to, I wouldn't want to take the choice away from her. Far too many people in her life have already done that. I would, however, argue strongly in favor of leaving Britain. I'd argue that people here don't deserve her fighting for them if they refuse to fully inform her about why she's fighting and what she's fighting against. And if she decides she wants to leave, I'll happily take her."
"You would condemn Britain—"
"A community and government that put me in Azkaban without a trial," Sirius interrupted. "A community that didn't care about what was happening to Jasmine when she was living with those muggles you stuck her with. I know that you think she's the only one who can stop Voldemort, but I'm betting there's more in the rest of the prophecy, am I right?" Dumbledore remained silent. "If you want her to stay in Britain to fight in a war against that bastard, then you owe her full disclosure. Whether you think she's ready for it or not, you owe it to her because you're already burdening her far beyond what any teenager deserves by expecting her to stay and fight in the first place."
"Maybe you have a point," Dumbledore conceded with a sigh. "I... will need to think on this."
"That's why I came to you now," Sirius responded. "I'd like her to be informed during the coming Christmas holiday. I know it's a long one, so there will be plenty of time to fit it in."
Saturday, December 18, 1995, Evening.
Dumbledore leaned back in his most comfortable chair — something he found himself needing more often these days due to his slow recovery — and read through the latest issue of The Quibbler. Despite the ban imposed by Madam Umbridge, he knew that students in Hogwarts continued to obtain their own copies. He suspected that Miss Potter and Miss Granger were involved, but he didn't look into it too closely so he could honestly claim ignorance.
It was in fact becoming more and more difficult to get a copy of the magazine across Britain generally. Minister Fudge had tried and failed on multiple occasions to get it banned outright, but he was still able to interfere with its distribution in various ways. Poor Cornelius, Dumbledore chuckled to himself. He doesn't seem to realize that he's only making the publication even more popular. What was once a marginal and even ridiculed magazine is now one of the most sought-after periodicals every month.
It was not the political articles that Minister Fudge hated so much which Dumbledore was focusing on, however. Instead, he was more interested in a set of articles dealing with ancient goddesses and their relationship to magic. Although not stated outright, he recognized that they were a continuation of the previous articles dealing with feminine aspects of magic. Moreover, he could not help but recognize even more connections to old ritual magic.
I don't think that these articles were written by an expert practitioner, Dumbledore concluded, which is a relief because the amount of power such a person might be able to wield could pose a serious problem. Nevertheless, the author does demonstrate quite a bit of knowledge, which means they must be reasonably experienced. I think I'd rate the chances of rituals being behind the destruction of Tom's horcruxes as being much higher now, which only means that the importance of identifying this person — or persons — and stopping them before they do real damage is much greater now as well.
Dumbledore set the Quibbler aside and started running through all of Xenophilius Lovegood's known associations. The man was a bit of a recluse with strange interests, so it wasn't a long list. Most of the people on it were odd enough to plausibly be interested in unusual, restricted magic — and more importantly, to not care about the social or political backlash if such an interest were made public. Unfortunately, his investigations — limited as they were due to his busy schedule and injuries — hadn't turned up even the tiniest shred of evidence that any of those witches or wizards might be involved in anything remotely like ritual magic, let alone feminine magic or ancient goddesses.
He was at a dead end with no leads to follow, a position he didn't like to be in. Even worse, he simply didn't have the time to develop something new on his own because he was being pushed by Sirius into revealing to Jasmine Potter truths that he had hoped to delay talking about for a while yet. The fact that Sirius might have been right didn't help, either. I'm going to have to set the Lovegood question aside for now, Dumbledore reluctantly decided. Maybe next month's issue will have something new I can work with.
Sunday, December 19, 1995, Afternoon.
"Are you two looking forward to Yule and Christmas?" Minerva asked as she poured her tea.
"Yes, very much so," Hermione said.
"It's kind of weird to be talking about them separately," Jasmine added, "but at the same time, it's starting to sound normal."
"That's good to hear," McGonagall responded. "I'm pleased to see how well you're doing since you started adopting these practices last term. I mean, I remember some of these rituals from when I was a wee lass, so for me it's all rather nostalgic. For you, though, it represents quite a shift in perspective."
Hermione thought about that. "I guess you're right, Professor, but I have to say that aside from the initial strangeness, it's all felt natural somehow. Even the massive amount of power moving around and through us hasn't been scary or uncomfortable in any way, though you'd think it would be."
"I think it also helps that all our friends are there with us," Jasmine added. "That feels right, too."
Minerva nodded. "Speaking of your friends, have you thought at all about when you're going to tell them more of the truth?"
"Do you mean about Hermione and me, or...?" Jasmine asked.
"Any of it," Minerva said. "I'm not going to push you, but knowledge of the veela prophecy would help them understand the rituals better. It might make them even more enthusiastic, not to mention how the prophecy fits in with some of the goals you already established last term for S.P.E.W."
"And we can't explain that prophecy without telling them about our relationship," Hermione said with a sigh.
"I know you have a lot of concerns about revealing your relationship to others," Minerva said, "and caution is definitely warranted. But the closer you are to someone, the more such secrets will undermine or even poison your relationship when they finally find out. You can't keep so much of yourself from someone and still claim to be close."
"Do you think they'll still accept us once they know?" Jasmine asked, sounding nervous.
"It's impossible to say for certain," Minerva answered, "but given how positive their response has been to the rituals and the veela, I think you have a lot of reasons to be optimistic."
"What about Sirius?" Hermione asked. "Should we tell him?"
Minerva looked thoughtful. "I think you're in a much better position than when you asked me that last term, but I'm still not certain about him, either. I'm not sure I spend enough time with him to know, however. I would recommend that you pay close attention to your interactions over the coming holiday and decide based on that. Telling him over the holiday would give you a bit of time with him afterwards, but then he has next term to get used to the idea before you're home for the summer."
The girls nodded and were soon lost in thought.
Sharpaxe looked over the latest reports from Cornwall and marvelled at how much the magical and mundane landscape there and in the surrounding areas was changing. If he hadn't been there to witness the ritual, he never would have believed anyone's story about it. He even had trouble believing his own report! What's more, the effects seemed to be continuing — slowly and getting slower, but continuing nonetheless.
And now he had to make preparations for observing yet another one.
If this keeps up, he thought, we won't be able to prevent the spread of information about the rituals and what they are doing. Rumors are already spreading! We've got warding teams involved, and while we've kept them in the dark, they're not completely blind. My personal guards witness the rituals, but I know they, at least, will keep quiet. But then there are also the scouts who bring us back these reports, and while they may be trustworthy, I can't be sure that none of them will inadvertently let something drop. And I have no idea how many are aware of the High Priestess' many trips, or what she's doing when she's away.
Sharpaxe sighed as he toyed with his eyepatch. I doubt anyone has even thought about this problem. We're so concerned with witches and wizards finding something out that we've forgotten about the rumor mill in our own population. I'll have to write to the Queen with some recommendations. I suspect we'll need to make some sort of official announcement that admits to at least some of this... no later than after Beltane, but possibly sooner. This is going to be a nightmare, I'm sure of it.
Sunday, December 19, 1995, Evening.
Almost a week after his conversation with Sirius, Dumbledore was again meeting with Jasmine and Hermione to show them more memories relating to the history of Tom Riddle. This time it was the memory of a house elf which had been found guilty of the murder of a witch — a witch who happened to know Tom Riddle. It just so happened that she owned two priceless objects that had once belonged to the Founders of Hogwarts, a subject Riddle was obsessed with. Those objects turned up missing after her murder.
"I take it the elf wasn't guilty?" Hermione asked.
"I do not believe so, no," Dumbledore replied, not quite looking her in the eye. He was still uncomfortable about how their last meeting ended and wasn't sure what to do about it. "I believe that she had her memory modified at the very least, and perhaps acted under the Imperius curse. Regardless, she was not truly responsible for the crime she was convicted of." Hermione was clearly horrified at how badly the elf had been treated, though Jasmine quickly pointed out that humans could also be imprisoned for crimes they didn't commit — it appeared to be a running theme in the so-called "justice" system of wizarding Britain.
"Why would he care so much about those two items — a cup and a locket?" Jasmine asked.
"He was always quick to take things from others," Dumbledore reminded them. "Remember the stolen items he had hidden in his wardrobe in the orphanage."
"Yes, but those were things he took from kids who hurt him, weren't they?" Hermione asked. "Hepzibah Smith never hurt him. She was nice to him."
"It's true that there was more involved," Dumbledore admitted, "but that's a story for another evening. For now, I want to be sure that you understand how his desire for possessing trophies continued through his adult years. It's also important to note how he looks down on so-called 'lesser beings' as little more than tools for his personal ends."
Both witches nodded, but before they could leave the Headmaster had one more thing to say. "Miss Potter, I've been wondering something: how has your scar been?"
"My scar?" she asked, reflexively reaching up to pull her hair in front of it. "It's been fine. In fact, I haven't felt so much as a twinge in a while now. Why?"
"It's growing fainter," Hermione pointed out.
"Really?" Dumbledore asked, surprised. "May I see it?"
Jasmine pulled back her bangs as Dumbledore walked around his desk, revealing to him a scar that was much thinner and lighter than it had ever been before.
"And it hasn't bothered you at all in a while, you say?" Dumbledore asked as he leaned over and peered closely at her forehead.
"Nope, nothing," Jasmine responded.
"And what about dreams?" he asked as he stood back up straight.
"Nothing since that weird dream back in the summer before fourth year," Jasmine answered. "That one where I only heard him and saw someone that seemed to be kneeling in front of me."
Dumbledore nodded absently as he walked back around his desk and sat back in his chair.
"Thank you for that information," Dumbledore finally said. "If you feel anything at all, even the slightest twinge, please let me know immediately. And of course the same goes for any sort of dream or vision involving Voldemort. I'll instruct the gargoyle to let you through immediately if you say that it's an emergency."
"Uh, thank you," Jasmine said as she and Hermione stood to leave. "I promise to come here right away."
Once they were gone, Dumbledore stood and pulled out his pensieve. "This is most unexpected," he said softly to himself. "Most unexpected indeed. What happened to your scar, Miss Potter? You didn't explode, which is good news, but what happened to the horcrux, and what will this mean for the prophecy?"
