I'd like to thank brianna-xox, fredfred and Otium for betaing. They improved the story a lot.

Chapter 34: At Hogwarts

'At first sight it might seem odd that even after having fought together in the bloodiest battle in the war so far, the Ministry's wounded were sent to St Mungo's while the Order of the Phoenix and their allies, as well as the Resistance, moved their casualties to Hogwarts. However, the close cooperation that followed the battle was largely the work of Dumbledore, who managed to convince the Resistance and the Ministry to join ranks despite the bad blood between the two factions. But the separation of the wounded heralded the fact that while the three factions were at this point united against the Dark Lord, they had by no means truly reconciled. Deep rifts remained, a situation the Dark Lord was poised to exploit.'

- Excerpt from 'The Second Blood War' by Hyacinth Selwyn

Hogwarts, January 18th, 1997

"Good morning, Aberforth." As usual, Albus Dumbledore greeted his brother with a friendly smile. And as usual, Aberforth ignored his greeting as he sat down in front of Albus's desk, staring at him.

Albus didn't sigh. "I trust you have heard about the events at the Ministry."

"Yes. Quite the massacre." Aberforth scoffed. "Why did you let that happen? You expected the Dark Lord to launch an attack following that vote in the Wizengamot."

The Headmaster shook his head. "I took precautions, but the sheer number of spies Voldemort had inside the Ministry hindered my and my friends' efforts." He might have been too cautious, Albus knew, but if Tom had learned of his precautions then the Dark Lord would have been able to counter them. The battle had been close enough. If not for the Resistance and the Delacours and d'Aigles, the Ministry would have fallen.

"Really?" His brother snorted. "Didn't the battle end just as you wanted, with the Ministry both weakened and indebted to the muggleborn and your friends, and the Death Eaters broken?"

"I certainly did not wish for so many good people to die," Albus said, forcing himself to remain calm. That there was some truth to this accusation made it harder - with both the Resistance and the Ministry suffering such terrible losses, they were unlikely to attack each other until the Dark Lord had been defeated, and Albus hoped that by then, the rift would have been mended sufficiently to avoid further bloodshed.

"Hah! You may claim that, but no matter what you intended, people keep dying while you scheme and plot," Aberforth sneered at him. "Children as well."

Albus knew what his brother was not quite saying. Decades had dulled the pain of the loss of his sister, but not the shame he felt for his part in it. He felt the urge to lash out at his brother, remind him that there had been three wizards fighting each other that day, that Aberforth was guilty as well, but he knew he couldn't afford it. He needed Aberforth's help.

So he slowly nodded, denying his brother the satisfaction of seeing him react with anger. "I try my best, but the Dark Lord is no ordinary enemy."

Aberforth scoffed again, but didn't press the matter. For a short while, neither Albus nor his brother said anything. Then the Headmaster broke the silence. "The Dark Lord has lost most of his Death Eaters in the Ministry. He will be looking to recruit more unscrupulous wands to fill up his ranks."

"There are not many left in Britain who'd follow him," Aberforth said. He had to know what Albus was asking. "And I think your French friends will not look kindly on attempts to recruit their scum."

The Headmaster nodded. "But Tom will look further abroad as well. He spent years in Albania as a shade." He didn't react to his brother suddenly growing tense.

"He couldn't have built up a network of contacts as a shade," Aberforth answered.

"No. But he had ample time to remedy that since his return - a number of his inner circle are not accounted for." Albus folded his hands and propped his elbows up on his desk. "I am not asking you to go there." Aberforth relaxed minimally. "But I need a few names friends of mine can contact there. Trusted mercenaries. And mercenaries who would be joining the Dark Lord."

"If you try to put pressure on them not to join the Dark Lord you might cause them to join him out of spite," Aberforth said. "They're a prickly sort."

"I am not planning to do that," Albus said, shaking his head. "I intend to hire them myself, although the less trustworthy ones I would probably send to guard something unimportant abroad, just to deny them to Tom."

"Expensive, but effective." Aberforth chuckled. "Although they'll grow restless sooner or later."

Albus spread his hands. "I would rather have them grow restless after a few weeks than attack us straight away." And if things went well, Tom would be dead before this became an issue.

"I'll give you a list. I don't know if any of them are still alive, though. Is that all?"

Albus doubted his brother's professed ignorance of the fate of his former comrades. Aberforth was far too loyal to the thieves and other shady people he associated with to have abandoned those he shed blood with during the troubles in the Balkans. He shook his head. "Tom will try to recruit in Britain as well. If your friends could keep an eye and ear out for his recruiters…"

"I'm not going to have them risk their lives for you, Albus."

"Shouldn't that be their choice?" Albus said softly.

Aberforth muttered a curse, but he couldn't very well accuse Albus of manipulating others like puppets, and then try to make such decisions for his friends. The Headmaster waited until his brother had gotten up, then spoke up again. "The Resistance might need your help as well."

Aberforth whirled around. "What? Are you sending them into harm's way again, before they have recovered from this debacle? They lost half their number!"

Albus made a mental note that his brother had kept track of the Resistance. That and his reaction meant he cared for them. The Headmaster shook his head. "No. But as you said: They lost a number of dear friends. They, or rather Miss Granger, might need to talk to someone who has gone through this before." Albus couldn't help but feeling a small bit of satisfaction at seeing his brother jerk - Aberforth wasn't the only one able to use old tragedies against another.

His brother stared at him, then nodded, and left the Headmaster's office without a further word.

"Good morning, Alastor."

"Morning Albus." The old Auror's peg leg made a loud noise with each step he took. Albus ignored it; Alastor was doing this so his enemies, both real and imagined, would not suspect that he could move far more quietly if he wanted to.

"You sent your brother off on his errands already?" Alastor said, sitting down on a chair he had conjured himself.

Albus nodded.

"Good to see the old bugger doing something helpful, for a change." His old friend snorted.

The Headmaster shrugged. He might still harbor hope for a reconciliation with his last family member, but he was certain Alastor and Aberforth would never be civil to each other. There had been too much bad blood, back when Aberforth had just returned to Britain from the Balkans, and both men carried grudges like no one else Albus knew. "What did you find out?"

Alastor grinned, his scarred face twisting. "Ah, I got lucky - the very first traitor I interrogated was the one who snuck those cursed aeroplanes in."

Albus leaned forward. That was very important news. "Did they know what curse was used?"

His friend shook his head, the enchanted eye spinning wildly. "No. The fool just did what she was told to, without knowing exactly what would happen. She knew that it was a dark curse, and that the spell would not hit anyone near the target - but that might have been a lie told to her as well." He scoffed. "Two Aurors were behind that nasty business, Malcolm Parkinson and Brenda Brocktuckle. They organised the traitors in the Corps, sent those cursed planes out, and fought in the coup. Parkinson was the leader of that group, but Brocktuckle had quite the authority, for a recent recruit. We got the names of the others in their cell too - but they were killed in the fighting."

"Did either know the Dark Lord's hideout?" One of them, at least. Mister Parkinson had been a very well-connected Slytherin; it was not impossible for such a wizard to have gained the Dark Lord's trust.

"Parkinson knows the locations of the spots where he met his master. Which means that the Dark Lord is certainly not living there. And with his Death Eaters captured, he'll know we now know those spots as well."

"I see." He remembered Miss Brocktuckle. A very determined, stubborn student at Hogwarts. A good Auror too. To think she had joined Tom… "Is there any chance that Miss Brocktuckle was just a follower?"

"Technically, she was just a follower, but she was being groomed for more by Parkinson. He wanted to sleep with her too." Alastor chuckled. "Won't be doing any of that, not any more."

Albus nodded. With so many Ministry employees and even Wizengamot members cursed, and the Ministry and the Wizengamot almost falling to the Dark Lord, mercy would be in short supply. "How is the mood among the surviving Aurors?"

"Mixed. They still don't trust each other, even though everyone claims to want to avenge their dead comrades and fight the Dark Lord." Alastor shook his head. "There's talk about dosing everyone with Veritaserum."

Albus frowned. Veritaserum was a powerful tool, but it was not infallible. There were a few of ways a spy could foil such an interrogation, provided that they knew it was coming. And it threatened to expose several actions taken by his own agents.

Alastor scoffed. "They don't realise just how much skill it takes to spot memory charms, or someone skilled at Occlumency." He sighed. "The Corps will take a long time to recover from that blow. Traitors, and then so many dead…"

"You will be busy getting the survivors into shape then."

"Yes." For a moment, the old Auror looked almost apologetic. "I'll still be training the boys, of course. But if the Corps can't pull their act together, then the Ministry's going to be doomed."

Albus nodded. His friend was correct. That Alastor, for all his complaints about the younger generation, and the useless rookies and Ministry, still cared for the Auror Corps, didn't change that. But while his training of Harry and his friends was essential, Alastor would be missed on the other missions he had undertaken for the Order. "There might still be spies among the survivors." In Tom's place, Albus would have ensured that not all of his spies exposed themselves.

"Of course there'll be spies! But we'll find them." Alastor grinned. "We'll get more names from the prisoners. Would be easier if we had more prisoners. Your friends were quite bloodthirsty."

Albus ruefully spread his hands. "They will kill rather than risk their lives to capture a Death Eater." At least unless they had specific orders, or the opportunity to capture a member of Tom's inner circle. Although Bellatrix had proven that even then, capture might not be an acceptable option.

"Yes. Like Hit-Wizards." Alastor shook his head. "Is your spy any closer to getting the Dark Lord's location, now?"

"Such things cannot be rushed, but I think the sheer scale of the casualties the Death Eaters suffered means there'll be an opportunity for us."

"Let's hope so. It would be a shame if so many people died just for the war to go on as before, after a recruiting period." Alastor snorted. "There's another thing: Both of the traitors were living in a muggle house. And they assume many others did so as well."

Albus nodded slowly. He didn't think that Tom would live among muggles - the Dark Lord had no fond memories of his childhood in muggle Britain - but other Death Eaters might have followed Parkinson's example. But how to find them… he might have to ask Miss Granger for some ideas.

Hogwarts, January 18th, 1997

When Hermione Granger left Harry's room with Ron, they ran almost straight into Ginny. "Ron! Hermione!" The younger witch was whispering, and glancing around, even though no one in the main room seemed to be paying any attention to her. "How's Harry?"

"He claims he's fine, but that's up to Madam Pomfrey to decide. You know how he is," Ron said. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

Ginny glanced at Hermione, then back at her brother. "No one's paying attention in class, not after the Daily Prophet arrived this morning." She huffed. "I'd rather see my friends and family than Snape." Glaring at Ron, she added: "My family and friends who almost died in those battles."

Hermione stepped in. "Ron and Harry didn't plan to fight. The Dark Lord surprised them."

Ginny gasped. "So it's true! You fought the Dark Lord!"

"Dumbledore and Harry did. I was being chased by Death Eaters," Ron said.

Hermione saw that he was wincing - he must be remembering the wizard he had killed. "How are the students taking this?" she asked. She hadn't left the infirmary yet since she had arrived.

The girl winced. "Those who have family in the Ministry are trying to find out if they lost someone. The rumours are crazy. The rest... " She shrugged. "I think they are happy that the Dark Lord was defeated, but with so many killed…" she sighed, then looked at Hermione. "You were fighting in the Ministry, weren't you? The Prophet claims the Resistance was called in by the Minister and Dumbledore."

"Yes." Hermione hesitated, then continued. "Dean Thomas and Mary Smith were killed." They had been Gryffindors, and Ginny had known them. She nodded at the area the Resistance had taken over. John was standing guard now. "Tania and Seamus were hurt, but should recover soon."

"It looks like half of Gryffindor is in the infirmary," Ginny said.

"More like half the patients here are Gryffindors," Ron said.

He might very well be correct, Hermione thought - the members of her old house certainly were living up to its reputation. "I'll have to check up on my group," she said when Ginny eyed the door to Harry's room. It would be good for Harry to have more visitors. Her friend was too prone to blame himself for everything if left alone.

Ron hesitated a moment, then nodded. "We can grab something to eat afterwards."

Hermione bit her lower lip. She wanted to take him with her, but… she was checking up on her group as the leader of the Resistance. She wasn't visiting friends in the infirmary. "Alright." She nodded, and left the two siblings.

"Any trouble while I was away?" she asked John once she reached the corner where the Resistance members were being treated.

"No." He shook his head. "Lots of glances, but no one bothered us."

Hermione wasn't certain if that was a good or bad thing. The Resistance had fought side by side with the other wounded in this room, after all. On the other hand, the transfigured curtains and conjured cover didn't look inviting. Quite the contrary. It was understandable that no one had approached them.

"Justin, Sally-Anne and Seamus went to get some food," John continued.

Something Hermione should have taken care of. They had food in their enchanted pockets, but the meals the house-elves cooked were far superior, and Hermione should have organised that. Another mistake. "Good," she said, passing him. "I'll check up on the rest."

True to Madam Pomfrey's diagnosis, Louise was fine and up already. The former Hit-Witch was sitting at Jeremy's bed when Hermione entered the improvised room, looking at her cursed friend, who was still, or again, asleep. Seeing the two, Hermione felt another pang of guilt. If she had planned this better...

"Hermione!" Louise smiled at her. "Madam Pomfrey said he'll be cured in a month."

Hermione had known that already. "Yes. And Tania should be fine in a day or two." After another day of suffering from Skele-Gro's effect. She shuddered.

"We used to get stunned when we had to take that potion, in the Hit-Wizard Corps," Louise said, glancing at the bed next to her. "She didn't want to, in case we had to fight. Took her hours to finally fall asleep."

Hermione shook her head. "Stubborn idiot," she muttered under her breath.

"How are your friends?" Louise asked.

"They were lucky. Ron's fine and Harry should be fine." He better be fine, she added to herself.

"Did they really face the Dark Lord?" Louise sounded doubtful. "Bellatrix Lestrange almost killed all of us, and the Dark Lord is even worse."

"Dumbledore arrived in time, and fought the Dark Lord off, but yes - they faced him, although they were running rather than fighting." Hermione frowned at the look of awe on the other witch's face. Then she reconsidered - this might help her friends get accepted by her group. Still, she felt a little bit vexed. The Resistance had bled fighting Death Eaters, and saved the Ministry. They should be proud of that.

She heard someone approach, and drew her wand without even thinking about it. Louise had done the same, she realized, when Justin and Sally-Anne entered, floating a large tray between them.

"Hermione!" Sally-Anne was smiling, no, beaming, at her. "Did you sleep well? Ron's waiting for you outside."

Hermione sighed. Her friend was anything but subtle. "Yes." Let the other witch make of that what she wanted. "Did you get enough rest?"

Sally-Anne nodded, and Justin didn't frown, so she was not fudging the truth, Hermione thought.

"Good. I'll have to check up on a few things, but I'll be back soon," she said. "Have you talked to your friends here yet?"

"Not yet," Justin said.

"We'll stay another day here, until Tania is fine. Keep one guard posted, but otherwise…" she trailed off. She couldn't tell them to enjoy the day, not with two of their friends dead.

Justin nodded. "We'll be visiting our friends here." He looked at Sally-Anne. "They don't know about us yet."

Hermione nodded. She hoped that the couple would keep Lavender and Parvati busy enough to not bother Ron and herself. She wouldn't put it past those two to use the Marauder's Map to track the couple down.

Harry Potter wasn't quite relieved when Ron and Hermione left the infirmary, but he couldn't help but relax a bit. He had been the one who had hared off to Hogsmeade on a whim, forgetting about Moody's lesson that if he could see the enemy, the enemy could see him. Ron had dutifully followed. If his friend had been killed it would have been Harry's fault. In hindsight, he should have known better than to underestimate Voldemort.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked.

Harry sighed. "Hermione's going to blame herself for the deaths. I need to talk to Ron so he can talk to her."

"I can talk to her as well." Sirius coughed. "But there's something we need to talk about."

Harry closed his eyes. "I'm sorry for flying off. I really thought it would be safe."

"You shouldn't have left Hogwarts." Sirius didn't raise his voice, which somehow made Harry feel even worse.

"I know. But… I couldn't just do nothing." He narrowed his eyes at Sirius. "It's not as if you stayed back either."

"I wasn't behind the strongest wards in Britain," Sirius said.

"Second-strongest then."

"That's a long way from the best, in this case." Sirius snorted. "Besides, I'm an adult, and we were under attack. You should have stayed safe."

Harry pressed his lips together. Arguing otherwise would make him look foolish. Even more foolish, at that.

His godfather sighed. "I know how bad it is, to wait while others risk their lives. James was the same. James was ranting about hiding like a coward. Not where Lily could hear him, of course."

For a moment, the older wizard seemed lost in his memories. Memories which, Harry hoped, were slowly returning to his godfather as he recovered even more from his ordeal in Azkaban.

Sirius shook his head. "Sorry."

Harry simply nodded.

"As I was saying, you need to stay safe. You know why."

"Yes." That didn't mean he had to like it, Harry thought. "But he knows now."

Sirius cursed through clenched teeth. "We need to tell Dumbledore."

The Headmaster would likely have realised that already, Harry thought. But it wouldn't hurt to ensure that he knew. He nodded. "Please carry on with your rant about my security."

Sirius glared at him. "You're supposed to be all contrite and repentant."

"Didn't you tell me not to be predictable?" Moody had said so as well.

"Foiled by my own short-sighted words!" Sirius shook his head, but he was grinning, if only a little bit.

Harry forced himself to chuckle. Before he could say anything else, they heard a knock on the door.

Harry drew his wand at once. He didn't bother with finding an excuse for it, like levitating a glass of water over or such. He had just survived a battle with the Dark Lord, after all. "Yes?"

"Harry?" Ginny peered inside, then slipped into the room. "Sirius."

"Ginny." Harry nodded at her, lowering his wand.

"Miss Weasley." Sirius sketched a bow and grinned at the witch. "Welcome to our humble but temporary home. Harry picked it out." He was keeping up appearances, Harry knew, and played along by scowling at his godfather.

Ginny didn't seem to be fooled, though, and smiled politely. "How are you doing?" She grimaced. "Or rather, how are you holding up?"

"I'll live."

"You're not 'fine'?" She touched his sheet with her left hand, running her fingers over it. Not quite sitting down, not quite keeping her distance.

He snorted. "Pomfrey recently threatened to give me Veritaserum if I didn't stop answering her questions with that."

Ginny giggled at that. "That would fit her." Then she took a deep breath, and grew serious. "I heard some of what happened from Ron and Hermione. Dad, Bill and Percy told us a bit about the Battle at the Ministry, enough to sift through the Prophet's propaganda."

"Technically, it should be our propaganda now," Sirius said. "Since the Ministry is now allied with the Order and the Resistance."

"There's more to it, though, isn't there?" Ginny was looking at him.

He closed his eyes, sighing, then blinked. The Dark Lord probably had another wand too, since there hadn't been that weird effect that had happened back at the graveyard. "I can't tell you more. Secrets."

She huffed. "My whole family is keeping secrets. Everyone but me."

"Well, they're not sharing them with me either," Harry said. "That's just how the Order's organised." And he shouldn't even talk about the Weasleys being in the Order, even though that was pretty much publicly known.

Sirius nodded. "He's right. Back in the last war, we suffered from traitors a lot."

Harry knew which traitor his godfather was thinking of. If he ever managed to find the rat...

"I need to learn Occlumency then."

Harry shook his head. "That's not a perfect protection, not against Veritaserum, for example." And a few other things Moody had taught them about.

"Perfect or not, it'll help." Ginny looked determined.

"That's rather pessimistic, Ginny," Sirius said. "You presume that we will not have dealt with Voldemort before you'll be eligible for the Order?"

She looked at him. "The last war lasted for a decade."

"Well, I think we have learned a few lessons from that," Sirius said.

"But so has the Dark Lord," Harry added.

No one had an answer for that.

"How's Gryffindor?" Harry asked, to break the silence.

"Full of rumours. You'll get mobbed once you're back. Ron too. Some of them might even mob Hermione, if they meet her."

"They better not," Harry spat. It wouldn't do to ruin her time with Ron.

"We're keeping the map under close guard." Ginny grinned. "Though if they head to the Great Hall, it'll be their own fault." She nodded at him. "I have to head back now." With a grin, she added: "Snape's lesson should soon be over." Then she slipped out of the room again.

"She's skipping Snivellus's lesson?" Sirius grinned. "There's a Gryffindor for you!"

Harry nodded. Though knowing how many Gryffindors had died last night, he wasn't quite certain if that was a good thing or not.

Ron Weasley had thought that taking the long way around to the kitchens in Hogwarts was a good idea. Hermione had agreed - it was a detour, so almost no one used those passages. The twins probably had used them for their pranks, but they had graduated last year. So when he heard footsteps coming closer, he glanced at Hermione, and the two split up, wands out. Just in case.

The blonde witch walking around the corner stopped when she saw the two of them aiming their wands at her, but didn't shriek, or go for her wand. She didn't even look scared. "Hello, Ron."

Luna Lovegood hadn't changed much, Ron realised. The weird blonde witch was smiling at him and Hermione, and not quite looking at them. Those strange fruit earrings of her were floating near her ears, and she had her wand stuck behind her ear.

"Luna." He nodded at her.

"Hello, Hermione." The Ravenclaw cocked her head sideways and stared at her. "I would like to thank you for saving my Daddy."

"Your father?" Hermione looked surprised.

Luna nodded several times, her head bobbing up and down. "He was covering the Wizengamot session, and was trapped there when the Death Eaters attacked. He's in St Mungo's, getting treated. I'm on my way to visit him." Her smile widened. "I've just heard the news that he's there."

Ron winced. That meant that she had not known whether her father was alive or not for the whole night.

"You're welcome," Hermione said, if a bit belatedly.

"If you need The Quibbler for your mind-controlling propaganda, you'll just have to ask. Although you'll have to figure out a way to get past the tinfoil hats our readers are certain to be wearing." Luna beamed at the witch.

Hermione was lost for words, so Ron nodded. "She'll get back to you - such things take careful planning."

"Of course! Like the Rotfang Conspiracy!" Luna smiled. "Is your family safe? Your dad was there as well, wasn't he?"

Ron nodded. "Yes. They're all in the infirmary here."

"Oh." Luna blinked. "That makes visiting them easy. Do you think I can get my father transferred as well? We have no other family, so he'll be lonely in St Mungo's."

She was asking with such an earnest expression, Ron felt even worse for being annoyed by her. "You'd have to ask the Headmaster, I think."

"Right. It's his school, after all." Luna nodded again. "Are you looking for Death Eaters here? Or looking for secret passages to sneak in and out of Hogwarts?"

"We were actually on the way to the kitchens," Hermione said. "We want to avoid the crowds."

"Oh." Luna blinked again. "But the Nargles have largely disappeared from Hogwarts, so the crowds should be safe. For now, at least - they breed quickly, after all."

"Nargles?" Hermione asked.

"Invisible animals," Ron quickly said. Luna beamed at him. "But we shouldn't hold you up any longer, Luna. Your father is waiting, isn't he?"

"Oh, yes. I shouldn't get distracted. Have a nice day, you two!" Luna said, then continued on her way.

"I hope her dad is not too badly hurt," he said, once they were again covered by a privacy spell. "Her mother died six years ago."

"I don't know what happened to him," Hermione said, answering his unasked question. "Do you think Dumbledore will move him to Hogwarts?"

"I don't know." Ron shrugged. "But I think he'll have a hard time refusing her."

"The Quibbler… They covered some of our leaflets. We had considered contacting them, you know." Hermione smiled, a bit ruefully. "But nothing came of it. Or rather, we didn't get around to doing anything about it."

"Well, you heard her - she's offered to help you." Ron wasn't quite certain how much help the Lovegoods could offer the Resistance, but it was a nice gesture.

"Yes, she did. I might take her up on that. Provided I can spare the time." The witch sighed. "Which doesn't look like it'll happen any time soon."

Ron wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a quick, or not so quick, kiss. They had to make the best of what time they had, after all.

Hermione Granger saw the two witches the moment she entered the Hogwarts kitchens with Ron at her side. She recognised them too, which was why she wasn't quite aiming her wand at them.

"Hermione!" Lavender said, loud enough to be heard over the noise filling the kitchens as dozens of elves worked to make and serve lunch for hundreds of students and teachers. "See, Parvati? I knew Ron would head to the kitchens."

Ron muttered something about being too predictable that Hermione didn't catch completely. She was watching the two witches carefully as they approached. They were Gryffindors, and had helped guard the school, according to Ron and Harry, but why were they looking for Ron? She knew Lavender had asked him out, and Ron had turned her down. Narrowing her eyes, she took a half-step closer to Ron.

Parvati grinned. "Ah! You are a couple!"

"Lavender. Parvati." Hermione nodded at them.

"You cut your hair!" Lavender looked at her.

Hermione frowned. She should have thought of wearing a wig. Technically, she didn't have to hide from the Ministry any more, but she wouldn't trust them even if Dumbledore were the Minister; they had too many spies for the Dark Lord in their ranks. And too many bigots. "Yes. It's more practical."

"Well… it suits you." Parvati nodded.

"Why were you looking for me?" Ron asked.

"Because you were with her," Parvati said. "I heard from Padma that the Resistance was in Hogwarts as she'd met John Emmet earlier, and since Harry's still in the infirmary, we decided to look for you. We checked the library first, but you were not there."

Hermione was slightly impressed by the reasoning, but then, the two witches always had shown considerable talent when it came to gathering gossip. "And why do you want to meet me?"

"We want to drag you to our dorm to talk, of course! We haven't seen you for months!" Lavender sounded very excited.

Hermione almost groaned. If those two thought she'd waste time gossiping with them while the war was still going on and she could be with her friends… On the other hand, she had to think ahead. "I'd been planning to visit later, when the lessons were over." Ron looked at her in surprise. She nodded at him. She'd tell him later.

"No one's paying attention to the lessons today. Not even the teachers themselves!" Lavender said.

"We still need to eat first," Ron said.

"Alright! Let's get a table!" Parvati waved to the closest elf.

"So! Tell us! When did you get together? How was your first date?" Lavender was almost twitching with excitement, looking back and forth between Hermione and Ron.

Hermione stared at the two witches. That was what they wanted to talk about, when the Ministry was in ruins, the wounded and dead filled St Mungo's, and Hogsmeade had barely escaped a Fiendfyre conflagration? On the other hand, it would be nice not to talk about the war, about death and killing. About the friends lost and cursed. For a little while at least.

And Lavender had asked Ron out, hadn't she? Hermione sat down very close to Ron - their sides were touching - and leaned into him. "We became a couple some time ago, but our first date was a wonderful evening in muggle London." Then she proceeded to give the two witches a detailed account of her first date with Ron - though bereft of names and locations.

For a little while at least, the war was far away.

"...and so I wanted to ask if Daddy can be transferred to Hogwarts, Headmaster. So he'll not be alone in St Mungo's."

Albus Dumbledore smiled at the earnest young witch in his office, though he was torn. It would be easy to grant Xenophilius's daughter her wish, but what if other students asked for the same? He couldn't turn Hogwarts into a hospital. Not only would that compromise the school's security, Poppy would be hard-pressed to treat so many people. She was already straining.

On the other hand, it was known that members of his Order of the Phoenix were treated here instead of St Mungo's. One more wouldn't cause much suspicion - although the public might assume that Xenophilius was a member of the Order as well. Which might put him and his daughter at risk. Ultimately, it would be up to the editor of The Quibbler to make that sort of decision. He nodded. "I will ask him if he wants to move to Hogwarts later today, Miss Lovegood. Now off you go to St Mungo's - he'll be waiting for you." Provided that the man was not hurt worse than Albus expected. Which was unlikely, unless Xenophilius had joined the battle. Not entirely impossible, of course. "You can use my fireplace," he added. "That will save you some time."

"Thank you, Headmaster!" Miss Lovegood beamed at him, bowed, and grabbed some Floo powder. A few seconds later, she had disappeared.

The old wizard kept smiling for a bit longer, then leaned back, sighing. Another family hurt by the war, and doing their best to cope. And with Tom now aware of his connection to Harry, Albus would have to readjust his plans. If Severus succeeded in gaining the Dark Lord's trust… the Death Eaters had suffered so many casualties, there were bound to be some openings in the Dark Lord's inner circle.

The spell on his fireplace alerted him that his next visitor was about to enter his office. Right on time. He flicked his wand and opened the Floo connection. A second later, Remus stepped out of the fireplace, cleaning the soot from himself. "Headmaster."

He glanced at clock. "Good afternoon, Remus. Please have a seat." While the younger wizard sat down, Albus asked: "How are things at home?"

Remus looked confused for a moment, which told Albus that the other wizard still felt as if he was a guest at Grimmauld Place - being an outcast for almost all his life, shunned as a dark creature, had left Remus with more scars than the ones visible on his face. Albus still hoped Sirius would be able to help his friend, but once more, the necessities of war would offer scant opportunities for that. At least if Remus followed Albus's plan.

"But for the Tonkses and myself, no one is currently there," Remus said. He didn't have to tell Albus where the Delacours and the d'Aigles, those still alive, were. Nor where Sirius was. And the Weasleys had moved into Hogwarts as well, with Arthur, Percy and Bill getting treated there. "But we're prepared for their return. Provided they wish to stay."

"That is up to them, but, as they are French, I doubt that even such losses as they have suffered will deter them from seeing this war through." Albus smiled grimly, but he was glad for the French élan - Britain could use all the help it could get, right now. "But let us talk about why I called you here."

The other wizard nodded at him. He looked tired, but determined. The full moon was still almost a week away, so this was not related to his curse.

"The Dark Lord has lost many of his followers, including Bellatrix Black. I expect him to step up his recruiting efforts both in Britain and abroad, to make up for this. We cannot let him do so unopposed."

"You think he will court the werewolves again, and wish me to put a stop to that," Remus said.

"No." Albus shook his head. Remus was not well-liked among the British werewolves. Many envied him his Hogwarts education, or scorned him for hiding his affliction for so long. "I would like you to head to Albania."

"Albania?" The younger wizard looked puzzled. "I'm not very familiar with the area."

Albus knew that. He hoped Aberforth's 'friends' would help there. "But you are very familiar with who I assume is Voldemort's main agent in the area."

Remus's eyes widened and his voice sounded almost like a growl. "Peter."

Albus nodded. "Peter Pettigrew has not been seen in Britain since the Dark Lord's return, and he has been to Albania before." Pettigrew had been the one to fetch the Dark Lord's shade from there. As young Mister Diggory's murderer, the animagus had been a political liability for the Dark Lord's cause. Sending him abroad would have served Tom's purposes most, Albus thought, and there had been a report about a man whose description fit the traitor from one of Albus's friends in Greece. "He might call him back, but the Dark Lord will need wands, and Albania and Northern Greece are rife with mercenaries."

"I'll find the rat." Remus was definitely growling now.

"Just be careful - there might be other agents. And spies, and traitors."

Remus scoffed. "Just like in Britain, then. I may not be too familiar with Albania, but I am familiar with mercenaries."

Albus was aware of that, of course. It was an open secret that many werewolves, those whose families were unwilling or unable to provide for them, turned to that life. Being seen as a dangerous dark creature was not a drawback for most mercenaries. He nodded. "I would ask Sirius to go with you, but…"

"...he'll not leave Harry." Remus finished for him.

Not again. Albus knew that Sirius having left Harry to chase down Peter Pettigrew was one of the decisions Sirius regretted most.

And while Albus didn't like to admit it, as a member of the Wizengamot and the head of the Black Family, Sirius was needed in Britain right now. Far more than Remus.

For a seventeen-year-old girl, she was feeling very nostalgic, Hermione Granger thought while she and Ron walked towards the Gryffindor dorms. The familiar hallways, the moving stairs, the smell, even - all brought back memories of her time at Hogwarts. Mostly good ones.

But she also was almost painfully reminded that that time had past, and would never return. She wasn't wearing school robes, but fatigues. She was not returning to her dorm, but visiting. And she was not carrying a bag full of books, but enchanted pockets with weapons, ammunition, and explosives, while keeping an eye out for ambushes, her wand ready to cast.

She wasn't the girl who had left Hogwarts at the end of her fifth year. And she'd never be that girl again. Even though Lavender and Parvati acted like she still was their dormmate.

They reached the entrance to the Gryffindor tower. The painting let them pass, but then, it probably let everyone with the correct password enter.

"Everyone! Ron and Hermione are here!" Parvati yelled into the common room. Which promptly erupted into loud yelling as everyone jumped to their feet. To Hermione's surprise, the Gryffindor students didn't rush to mob them, but stopped after a few steps. After they had seen her, she realised. Of course, being Gryffindors, they didn't stop for long, and soon surrounded the four, far too close for her comfort, and asking questions all at the same time.

"Oi! You lot!" Ron yelled. "Back off a bit!"

It took quite a while for the excited students to back off and settle down. It was worse than after some of Harry's adventures, in Hermione's opinion. She wasn't quite certain any more that it had been a good idea to come, even though she had to talk to the students. But she wouldn't quit now. She owed it to them, and to her friends.

A quick Amplifying Charm helped her be heard over the whispers still going on. "Please listen. Yes, we have beaten the Death Eaters at the Ministry, but at great cost. You already know that many Aurors and Hit-Wizards died, and more were cursed. They weren't the only ones. Dean Thomas and Mary Smith were killed fighting Bellatrix Lestrange. Tania Dennel and Seamus Finnigan and two more of our group were hurt and are currently being treated." The Gryffindors weren't smiling any more. Many of them would have lost family members as well, she realised. But they deserved to hear about the death of their friends and fellow Gryffindors.

"Did you kill Lestrange?" Neville asked. She hadn't seen him joining the crowd.

"I shot her while Seamus and others cursed her. She was dead the instant her shield failed, and fell down into a fire," Hermione said.

Neville slowly nodded, but he didn't look happy.

"We had her cornered, but she still killed several of us and the French," she added. Just in case Neville had wanted to kill her himself. "It was the worst battle I've been in." Yet, she added to herself.

"Did you fight the Dark Lord?" a young boy asked.

"No," Hermione said. "He wasn't at the Ministry. Ron met him."

Her boyfriend shot her a glance, then smiled wryly. "I wouldn't say I fought him. He and his Death Eaters were chasing Harry and me, and we tried to escape. We didn't, but managed to stay alive long enough for Dumbledore to save us, and took out a Death Eater or two." He snorted. "They cast Fiendfyre at Hogsmeade, but the Headmaster put the fires out before too many buildings burned down."

That made a number of students shiver - mostly the youngest, and the oldest, Hermione noticed. Probably the most impressionable, and those who had read up on Fiendfyre for their Defence N.E.W.T.s.

"How many Death Eaters did you kill?" A third-year student asked. He reminded Hermione of Dennis Creevey.

She had expected that question. "I don't know, and it doesn't matter. In war, what matters is that you achieve your objective in a battle. And for that you need to work together."

"But you have killed Death Eaters!"

"Yes." She forced herself to keep smiling. "I didn't keep count, though." And she didn't know how many of those she had killed had been Death Eaters anyway.

"Shouldn't killing Death Eaters be the main objective?" an older student asked.

"It's usually one objective. It depends on the mission, and the battle."

"We won't have peace until all of them are dead," Neville said. "Every last Death Eater and the Dark Lord himself."

Hermione agreed with him, though she wouldn't have said it like that. It sounded far too bloodthirsty.

"Dead or in Azkaban," Ron said.

"They escaped from there once already. They'll do so again." Neville glared at Ron.

"We certainly cannot trust the Dementors any more," Hermione said. "And Azkaban relied heavily on them to keep the prisoners from escaping."

"I doubt that the Wizengamot will show much mercy to Death Eaters anyway," Ron said. "Not after so many in the Ministry were killed or cursed."

"And after the Death Eaters attacked the Wizengamot," she added.

"Now that you're allied with the Ministry, will you be returning to Hogwarts?"

That question, coming from Fay Dunbar, almost made Hermione wince. "We're needed in the war. Some of us might, though that's up to them." Colin and Dennis would be safer here, and able to take up their studies while waiting for a cure for the withering curse. But she doubted that the two brothers would want to 'desert' their friends.

"And afterwards?"

"I don't know yet how long this war will take." Or if she would be alive at the end.

But, Hermione thought, she knew that she wouldn't return to Hogwarts. She didn't fit in here any more. She had organised and led the Resistance. Fought in the war. Killed scores of people. Her, going back to be a student again? Having a curfew? Listening to Snape berate her for being a Gryffindor, and a muggleborn? Dealing with all that petty teenage drama?

No. She wouldn't do that. She was past that.

Harry Potter was watching his godfather pace in front of his bed. Back, and forth, back and forth. Like a caged animal. He probably would be changing into Padfoot soon. And in a way, Sirius was caged. And it was Harry's fault.

"You know, you don't have to stay in Britain. You can go with Remus and hunt Pettigrew," he finally said. He'd miss Sirius, of course, but his godfather would be happier that way.

Sirius stopped pacing and stared at him. "What? No, I can't."

"I'll be safe at Hogwarts."

Sirius snorted. "I doubt that."

Harry shrugged. It wasn't as if anyone could help him if or when he and Voldemort met inside their minds. "I know you want to hunt down the traitor." He would like to do that himself, but he was needed in the war.

His godfather sighed. "I want to, yes. But I'm needed here. And not just because my godson is suicidally brave," he added with a smirk. Shaking his head, he continued. "No, Albus needs me in the Wizengamot. And with our French friends. Apparently, I have become a diplomat and a politician without noticing. What a shame!"

Harry chuckled despite himself.

"But yes, Harry, I'm also staying here in Britain for you. I left you once to chase Wormtail, and we both know what trouble that caused. I'm not making the same mistake again." He grinned. "So, no more talk about me leaving, alright?"

"Alright." Harry couldn't help but feeling happy at hearing that.

Sirius didn't resume pacing, but Harry could see that his godfather was tapping his foot. He was about to tell him to change into Padfoot and go for a run when the door was opened and a blonde head appeared, looking around.

"Hello, Luna," Harry said, after he had recognised the blonde.

"Hello, Harry. Hello, Mister Boardman," the Ravenclaw said.

"I'm not Stubby Boardman," Sirius said.

"He really isn't. His singing is so bad, it drives people and pests away," Harry said. "Luna, this is my godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius - Luna Lovegood."

"Ah, of course," Luna said, stepping inside and smiling. Her tone told Harry that she was just humouring them.

He glanced at Sirius and shrugged. There were worse fates than being mistaken for a famous but dead singer.

Meanwhile, Luna was peering under the beds, and lifting the sheets off the bed next to Harry.

"Ah, Miss Lovegood, can we help you?" Sirius asked when the blonde started to pat the mattresses.

"Oh!" She turned to them, then nodded. "Yes. How comfortable are the beds here? And how exciting is the room?"

"How exciting is the room?" Sirius sounded as lost as Harry felt.

"Yes!" The witch jumped to her feet. "I'm looking for the best bed for my Daddy! He'll be moving to Hogwarts from St Mungo's, and I don't want him to be bored while he recovers." She gazed at Sirius with wide eyes. "Although I guess if he's sharing a room with a famous singer and the Boy-Who-Lived, he'll see a lot of groupies sneaking in."

"Groupies?" Harry asked.

"Witches who want to sleep with famous wizards," Sirius said.

"I know what groupies are," Harry retorted.

"Why are you asking then?" his godfather shot back.

"I'm not a groupie," Luna said. "I'm a bed-scouter." She looked at Harry. "Though I could be a groupie, I guess."

Sirius coughed, and Harry shot him a glare.

"I think this room will suit Daddy. You're quite entertaining. I'll inform the Headmaster!" The witch skipped out of the room.

"Maybe I'm really not needed in Britain," Sirius mused.

"You're not leaving me alone with her or her family," Harry said, glaring at his godfather.

"And my thoughts are with you."

After finishing, Albus Dumbledore remained smiling for a moment longer, then leaned back and sighed. He had done this before, several times. Just in case his next mistake would be his last. And he had come close, in Hogsmeade. Very close.

His near-escape wasn't the reason he had done this again, though. That was because of the changes in the Ministry, which had necessitated a few plans be adapted. He summoned two vials with his wands, unsealed them, and vanished the silver ribbons curled inside them. Then he touched the tip of his wand to his temple, and drew copies of the memories he wanted out, storing them in the two vials.

For a moment, he held them in his hand, as if he could weigh their contents. This wasn't his legacy. It wasn't even his last will. It was just a precaution. A very important one, though. One he hoped he'd never need. Or rather, he hoped would never be needed.

He looked at the clock on his wall. Severus was meeting with the Dark Lord. It was a longer meeting than Albus had expected. That could be a good sign. Or it could mean that Severus had been found out, and was now dead, or wishing he was dead. Albus hoped the younger wizard's own precautions would work, in such a case. Death was but the next Great Adventure, but no one should start that after hours of torture.