A very big "Thank you!" goes to fredfred for betaing. His help has improved the story a lot.

Chapter 36: Fast Track

London, Diagon Alley, September 11th, 1998

"Out of the way, we need a Healer!"

Bathilda Meringworth wasn't quick enough, and the older Hit-Wizard pushed her to the side in his rush to get into the Leaky Cauldron. Another Hit-Wizard was leaning on the man, her grey robes stained red - blood, Bathilda realised as she stumbled and barely caught herself before she fell. The entire sleeve of the witch's robes was ripped to pieces. And the arm underneath...

She gritted her teeth and drew a shaky breath. This wasn't how she had envisioned her first week as an Auror going. She was supposed to learn how to catch criminals and make Britain safer for everyone, not… not… not this!

Next to her, Elton was retching - he had lost his breakfast already, she realised, and the bitter stench almost made her vomit, too, but she managed to cast a Bubble-Head Charm in time. Just like Cedric had taught her. She shook her head. She had to focus! Others depended on her!

"Get a grip, Elton!" she whispered as she vanished the vomit.

Elton coughed. "Merlin's beard!" he mumbled, wiping his mouth and leaving traces of vomit on his sleeve. "Did you see that witch?"

"Yes," Bathilda replied, bending over to help him up.

"Meringworth! Smith! Get moving!" Dawlish's yell startled her and she almost lost her balance when Elton grabbed her hand.

"Yes, sir!" she yelled back automatically. After a moment, she added. "Where to?"

"To the front!" he yelled, pointing at the opening in the brick wall of the Cauldron. "We're pushing the mob back to get at the wounded, and they need backup there, not here!"

Bathilda swallowed dryly. Go into the Alley. Where people got their arms cut up. Or worse. She didn't want to go. She wanted to go home. To her parents. Where she was safe. She blinked, noticing that her eyes were wet. And that she was trembling. She swallowed again. She couldn't do this.

Elton was moving, though. And he was still holding her hand. Dragging her with him. She didn't know if he even noticed. And then they were past the brick wall and in the Alley proper. Where smoke covered the sky and half the street and the wounded were screaming for help.

"Come on! We need to push them back as far as Gringotts!" Dawlish yelled. "Keep together! Don't split up! Stunners only!"

And Bathilda was obeying. Moving with Elton and Nott. Into the smoke and fire, or so it felt. Past bodies on the ground, some moving, some not. Stunned, she told herself. They're stunned. Until she saw a body missing most of its head and so severely burned that she couldn't tell if it had been a witch or a wizard.

And she retched and vomited until she was spewing bile. When she got up, on still wobbly legs, she realised that Elton was retching too and Nott was shaking. And that they were alone.

They must have gotten lost in the smoke, she realised. Accidentally went down the wrong side alley when moving around that fire. She looked around. She didn't know where exactly they were, but they couldn't be too far from the main street. But they had to move!

"Elton! Theo! We need to move!"

Elton blinked, startled, but he was nodding. Theo, though, was still staring at the body. Bathilda reached over and shook him, and he jerked, panting.

"We need to move back to the Alley!" she said through clenched teeth. "Now!"

"Yes… yes."

"But where?" Elton asked.

"Back to where we came from," she snapped. Didn't he know the way? He didn't, she realised when he looked at her with a desperate expression. "Follow me!" she ordered. "And keep your wands ready!"

Bathilda hoped that she had remembered the way correctly. All those side alleys looked alike, with the cursed smoke turning them even darker than they normally were. And some of those crazed rioters - why would they even attack the Aurors, anyway? - could be hiding in each nook and behind every corner.

She clenched her teeth and took point, as the instructor had called it - she couldn't trust either of the boys, anyway. Leading with her wand, as she had been trained, she turned the corner. Empty. On to the next. She took a deep breath, then turned that corner. Empty too. But for a few bodies. And ahead of her was the main alley. She almost cried with relief. They had made it!

Or… she glanced over her shoulder. Yes, Theo and Elton were behind her.

Her relief was short-lived, though - they were still in the middle of the Alley. And she couldn't see the rest of their group. Only a few unknown Aurors and Hit-Wizards. And Healers. They must have gone on to Gringotts, she realised. "Follow me!" she yelled. They had to find the others.

They caught up with Dawlish and the others just as they reached Gringotts. It looked like a battlefield, Bathilda thought, shocked. Bodies were strewn everywhere. Red-robed, gray-robed and civilians. About a dozen Aurors and Hit-Wizards were standing, most of them wounded.

And Potter and Weasley. They didn't look shocked. Or wounded.

Bathilda shivered.

They looked ready for more. Even eager.

London, Ministry of Magic, September 11th, 1998

Mr Fletcher had taught Hermione Granger to maintain her cover. To play a role and mask her emotions. Working as Sirius's secretary had taught her to keep her composure and hide her thoughts behind a mask of polite manners, even in the face of bigots trying to provoke her. And keeping her training and true skill in Defence a secret from Harry had taught her to act. She had spent years mastering her skills.

But now, listening to the reports from Diagon Alley, watching the wounded - the walking wounded, those who were not sent straight to St Mungo's - stagger into the Atrium to be treated by the Healers on duty, she had to struggle not to blow her cover and rush to the Alley herself. Harry and Ron were out there, facing a mob!

They were risking their lives, and all she was doing was standing next to Sirius and taking notes. This was worse than in the Battle of the Ministry!

"It's not as bad as it looks," Sirius said in a low voice.

"What?" She barely kept from snarling at the dog. What did he know?

Sirius didn't react to her almost-outburst. He pointed at the Healers. "They don't seem to be having any trouble - no dark curses, then."

"Those would have been sent directly to St Mungo's," she retorted.

"Yes. But we didn't hear anything about dark wizards either - and trust me, such news would spread quickly among my esteemed colleagues," he added with a sneer. He shook his head. "No, I think most of the wounded will be quickly healed. It's not as if the average wizard is very skilled at fighting, after all."

"The sheer number of wounded would seem to refute that statement," she pointed out.

He nodded. "It seems standards for Aurors and Hit-Wizards have slipped more than I thought. A bunch of scared wizards who haven't duelled since Hogwarts shouldn't have posed a problem for our Aurors."

"Unless a few dark wizards took the opportunity to hurt the Ministry," Hermione said.

Sirius nodded again. "That is a possibility, but I think things would be worse in that case."

"Worse?" She stared pointedly at the over half a dozen wounded still waiting for treatment.

"Worse. The last war was worse. Much worse."

"And yet they sent the new Aurors in - Harry and Ron!" Hermione said, trying not to grind her teeth - that would damage them.

"Judging by how this lot is faring, Harry and Ron were needed." He chuckled, but it sounded more than a little forced, so Hermione didn't push him, even though his words seemed to contradict his earlier claims.

"I still worry about them," she said quietly.

"So do I," he answered. Then his eyes widened. "There's Nott."

What did that git have to… he was in Harry's group, Hermione realised - Harry and Ron had complained about him often. Which meant that the bedraggled-looking Aurors there would be the other rookies. But she couldn't see Harry or Ron. "Why aren't they with them?"

"I don't know," Sirius answered, not bothering to appear confident any more. "Let's go ask them."

People parted in front of them, despite the situation - due to Sirius's expression and his reputation, Hermione thought. She didn't mind as she followed him.

But before they reached the group, movement at the fireplaces caught her attention. Dawlish had arrived. Hermione clenched her teeth. That was the man who had ordered her friends into this mess. She should… there was Harry! And Ron!

She rushed towards them, dodging around some idiot Hit-Wizard who tried to stop her and ignoring whatever Dawlish was saying. Harry's eye widened when he recognised her and then she was hugging him. And trying not to cry with relief.

Harry Potter had barely stepped out of the fireplace when he saw Hermione charging him. He managed to brace himself so she didn't bowl him over when she jumped into his arms, but it was a near thing.

It felt good to hold her and have her hug him, though. Especially after the riot. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Hermione, as expected, was talking fast. "What happened? Why weren't you with the others? I feared the worst!" Then she hugged him a little tighter, and he winced and tensed when her arm pressed down on his bruised shoulder.

She must have noticed since she pulled back. "Are you hurt?" She stared at his robes.

He was tempted to answer with 'It's not my blood', but that wouldn't be received well. "I'm fine," he said instead.

Which wasn't received well, either, as he should have known. Hermione glared at him. "You always say that, no matter how hurt you are!" She turned to Ron.

"I'm OK," Ron quickly told her before she could ask. "Harry's the one who got slammed to the ground when the rioters charged us."

Harry glared at his friend, but Hermione was already fussing over him, her wand out.

Sirius came to the rescue. "He looks fine to me," he said. "A little banged up, though."

Hermione huffed but nodded.

"Why do you believe Ron and not me?" Harry asked.

"Because he never claimed to be fine when he had broken bones;" Hermione answered.

"That was in our second year," Harry blurted out, then winced - that incident had, ultimately, led to Hermione getting expelled. He hadn't wanted to remind her of that.

She sniffed. "And you haven't changed since." She turned to Ron. "He hasn't, has he?"

Ron looked from her to Harry and back, then shook his head. "We need to report to Dawlish."

Harry nodded. "Yes. We'll talk later about this." Much later, he added to himself. He hugged her again, smiled at Sirius and went over to where Dawlish was waiting.

Nott was sneering at him as they approached. Apparently, he had recovered from his shock at seeing a real fight - he had been staring blankly with his mouth hanging open most of the time he and the other rookies had spent in front of Gringotts.

Harry ignored him and saluted Dawlish. "Aurors Potter and Weasley reporting back," he snapped. "We were relieved by the Hit-Wizards."

To his surprise, Dawlish didn't comment on the scene with Hermione but simply nodded at them. "Good."

Nott, though, scoffed. "Finally managed to tear yourself away from your girlfriend, Potter? Can't wait until we've finished our shift?"

Harry was about to tell the git where he could stick his attitude, but Dawlish cut in before he could say anything. "Shut up, Nott!" he snapped. "If your girlfriend worked in the Ministry, you wouldn't have walked past her either."

After such a rebuke for the git, Harry didn't bother to correct Dawlish's assumption that Hermione was his girlfriend. But he grinned at Nott as soon as Dawlish turned away.

"Nott has a girlfriend?" Ron whispered to Harry as they joined the rest of the group in a semi-circle around Dawlish. "Must be a conjured one."

Harry had no trouble refraining from laughing out loud. It wasn't that funny - he didn't have a girlfriend either, after all.

"Alright," Dawlish started. "Overall, you did decent enough - for rookies." He looked at Bathilda. "Meringworth, you managed to get lost with your group in Diagon Alley. That's not impressive." The witch's lips started to tremble, as if she wanted to refute that accusation but didn't dare to speak. Dawlish went on: "However, you led your group back out again, and then to where we were supposed to be. You kept your nerve, too. Well done there." He nodded at Bathilda with a smile.

The witch didn't return it - she seemed to barely be able to hold back tears, or so Harry thought.

Dawlish was already talking to the others, though. "The rest of you, well… you didn't break. You followed orders. But you could have done better. You'll have to work on that." He glanced at Harry and Ron and snorted. "Don't give me that glare, Potter. I'm not talking about you two." He shook his head. "Looks like Mad-Eye was right about you. Stood your ground like veterans. Someone's going to have fun figuring out what to do with you. Fortunately, it won't be me." He grinned. "Scrimgeour will be handling your debrief."

Scrimgeour, unsurprisingly, didn't have the time to debrief two rookie Aurors while Diagon Alley was still in danger of burning down and the wounded and stunned filled St Mungo's wards and the Ministry's holding cells, respectively. Which was why Harry Potter had been ordered to help guard the holding cells together with Ron 'until further orders'.

"Do you think they've forgotten about us?" Ron asked. "You'd think they'd send some relief so we can go to lunch, at least."

"I don't think so," Harry said.

"When I was little, Dad used to tell me stories about employees getting assigned to some obscure task," Ron said, leaning against the wall next to Harry, "and working for years without anyone checking up on them." He chuckled. "After I started Hogwarts, I thought he was just taking the mickey. But now?" He shook his head. "In all the chaos up top…"

"I think if anyone's forgotten about us, they'll remember quickly when Scrimgeour starts asking where we are," Harry said. Though he couldn't help wondering if someone might have chosen to 'forget' them at their posts.

Ron nodded. "Makes sense, I guess."

"You guess?" Harry frowned at him.

"After today I'm not sure everything has to make sense. Why would you attack Gringotts when you're angry at the Ministry? Hell, why would you attack the Ministry if you're scared of Voldemort? That would just help him." Ron scoffed and shook his head. "And why would you charge a line of Aurors and Hit-Wizards if you can't even cast a Shield Charm?" He looked at Harry. "Do you think someone caused this riot? I mean, not like Skeeter, but with Compulsion Charms or the Imperius Curse."

Harry frowned. "It's possible, I guess. On the other hand, you know what Moody said about crowds and mobs."

"'If a crowd turns into a mob, people lose all reason and are as likely to attack as flee if you show any weakness'," Ron quoted the old Auror. "They certainly did, today. But I bet that a lot of them in there will claim they had been put under a spell," he added with a nod towards the holding cells.

Harry snorted. "That's a sucker's bet." One wizard who had woken up while two Hit-Wizards were levitating him into a cell had claimed exactly that. Loudly and repeatedly. The man was probably still screaming that he was innocent, Harry thought, but the cells were spelled to block sound.

Ron grinned, then pulled out his enchanted mirror again. "Luna should now be on her lunch break as well," he said. "I need to let her know that we're OK."

Harry nodded. "I'll do a round," he said, nodding towards the hallway lined with cell doors. He didn't need to, but it would give Ron some privacy.

When he returned a few minutes later, Ron was still talking to Luna. Harry cleared his throat, loudly - he had no intention of catching any intimate talk.

"Alright, Harry's back. I'll call you in the evening," Ron said. "Sorry. I'm really sorry. Yes. Love you too." He stowed the mirror and gave Harry a nod.

Harry nodded back and took up his old spot at the wall. "No sign of lunch or our relief?" he asked after a moment.

"No. Guess Moody's been proven right about one more thing," Ron answered, pulling out a sandwich from his enchanted pocket. "Carrying food really is a good idea." A quick duplication charm later, he stowed the original again.

Harry sighed but followed Ron's example. If someone had purposely 'forgotten' about them, then leaving their post to get some food would be a bad idea, even if only one of them left to fetch a meal. That was the kind of mistake upon which Umbridge and her ilk would gleefully jump.

And Harry wasn't about to let that happen.

Hours of boring guard duty later, they were finally called to Scrimgeour's office.

"Ah, Potter and Weasley. Take a seat!" The Head Auror greeted them as soon as the door opened. He didn't look particularly stressed, Harry Potter noted. Probably a few Cosmetic Charms - his robes looked freshly cleaned, too.

"Thank you, sir," Harry answered, sitting down.

"I heard they had you guarding the cells," Scrimgeour said as he shuffled some parchment on his desk.

"Yes, sir. The holding cells," Ron confirmed.

"Probably meant to free up some more experienced Aurors, I guess." Scrimgeour leaned back in his seat. "Short-sighted, if well-meaning." He waited a moment, but neither Harry nor Ron said anything. With a faint smile, he went on: "I've checked with a few of my Aurors. According to everyone, you handled that sticky situation at Gringotts very well. Even better than most Aurors, if we're honest."

Harry nodded.

"Which is a problem - and an opportunity," the Head Auror said.

"A problem?" Ron asked.

"Yes." Scrimgeour interlaced his fingers. "You are the most capable new Aurors we've had in decades. Not surprisingly, given Moody trained you two for years. But, as you may have noticed, the Corps has certain customs regarding rookies. You might even call them traditions."

"Graveyard shifts," Harry said.

Scrimgeour nodded. "That's just one aspect. Basically, rookie Aurors are expected to learn from the more experienced Aurors. That's why we pair rookies with veteran Aurors for their first year." He sighed. "But we won't be doing that with you."

Harry was surprised. "Why not, sir?"

The Head Auror grinned. "Well, after talking to Moody, I was left with the impression that you've learned more than fighting from him."

"He did tell us about Auror work as well," Harry said, "But we studied the Auror handbook extensively on our own time."

"I didn't mean that. I meant your attitude." Scrimgeour lightly shook his head. "The way you move. The way you seem ready to fight at the drop of a hat. But most importantly, the way you react to others."

Harry blinked. "Sir?"

"You don't suffer fools lightly, do you?"

Harry frowned. "That would be a bad idea when our life depends on them doing their job well."

"That is correct. But I fear that your idea of who's a fool is closer to Moody's than to any other Auror's. Much closer." Scrimgeour leaned forward. "And I don't think either of you would work well with most veteran Aurors. I don't doubt that sooner or later, you'd question their orders." He chuckled. "There's a reason Moody's had very few partners in the last decade. He'd be a good partner for either of you, but like the others who might be able to handle the Boy-Who-Lived, he can't be spared to teach the ropes to rookies. Even though," he added with a cynical grin, "he obviously managed to train you in his spare time. And before you ask - I can't assign you to his section."

"Investigations," Harry said.

"Exactly. Assigning two rookies to Investigations would see a number of promising Aurors waiting for their transfer to Investigations quit in protest. And the Corps can't afford that. But what I can do, especially after today's performance, is to pair you up with each other as a regular Auror team."

That was unexpected. Harry glanced at Ron, who was frowning, then looked at Scrimgeour. "That will ruffle some feathers as well."

"It certainly will. But not as many. And not important ones. Consider it an opportunity to prove yourselves."

A test then. Or even a trap - Harry was aware that, for all their training, they didn't know everything they needed to be actually working as Aurors. But he had faced Voldemort and won; he wouldn't let a bunch of jealous idiots defeat him, either. On the other hand, Moody had hinted at something like this, hadn't he?

So he smiled at Scrimgeour. "Thank you, sir. We won't disappoint you."

And they would talk to Moody at the first opportunity.

London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, September 11th, 1998

"You'll be working as normal Aurors? After a week?"

Hermione could sound a little more impressed and happy about this, and less shocked, Harry Potter thought as he cut another piece off his roast beef - Kreacher had done a marvellous job with the meal. It seemed Jeanne threatening to take over the cooking had worked out well. He nodded. "Yes. Apparently, we impressed everyone with our handling of the riot, and so we get to skip the usual training period."

"It's more like Scrimgeour thinks the other Aurors won't be able to handle us," Ron cut in, "so this was his compromise." Harry glared at his friend, but Ron blithely ignored him. "It's an opportunity - or a trap. Probably both, as Percy would say."

"I see," Hermione said, pursing her lips.

"He's setting you up to fail?" Sirius was frowning.

"No, I don't think so," Harry quickly said. Having Sirius intervene on their behalf would ruin everything. "It's just the best option for us, given our special training from Moody."

"And the safest way for him," Ron added. "Whether we prove ourselves or not, it won't be his fault. He can claim any successes, and blame any failures on us." He shrugged. "Office politics."

Ron had been talking with his brother and father about the Ministry a lot, Harry knew. He nodded. "Yes. But we can handle it." Hermione still looked dubious, so he added: "We'll be talking with Moody and Tonks so that we won't get blindsided by jealous people. Trust me: we can do this."

She nodded, although a little reluctantly. She should have more confidence in him. "I've heard a rumour that you used excessive force to deal with the rioters."

"Probably Nott," Ron muttered.

Harry scoffed. "I did nothing worse than what we do and suffer when training with Moody." Nothing a Healer or experienced Auror couldn't fix in a minute or two. "The worst was a Bludgeoning Curse to the chest, but that guy was trying to strangle me with his bare hands." Or probably would have tried, if Harry hadn't dealt with him. He noticed that Hermione was gaping at him. "Ron fixed him up."

She waved that away. "I don't care about that - he was strangling you? He managed to break your Shield Charm?"

Harry shrugged. "He charged me. Literally jumped at me." She was still gaping, so he added: "It really wasn't any worse than training with Moody. Probably less, actually."

Hermione pressed her lips together. "Does that mean that I should call ahead to St Mungo's before our next Defence lesson and reserve a bed?"

He frowned at her. As a teacher, he wasn't nearly as tough as Moody! "It won't be that bad! And you need the training!"

She huffed but didn't try to continue their argument. He took another bite of his beef.

"Besides, our orders were clear: We had to use any means to protect Gringotts," Ron added. "And if those idiots had managed to break through our line, they would have been massacred by the goblins. The buggers were waiting for them."

Harry nodded. "The goblins looked eager, even though they should know that if they murder wizards like that, it would mean war."

"That's probably because they want a war," Sirius said.

"What?" Jeanne looked aghast. "After the last one? Are they mad?"

Sirius shrugged. "It's been over two hundred years since the last Goblin Rebellion - that's a longer time for goblins than for wizards. Memories fade. And goblins are a bloodthirsty bunch. They probably think Britain's weak, too, after Grindelwald and Voldemort, and with Dumbledore dead."

Jeanne said something in French that Harry didn't catch. Judging by Hermione's reaction, it must have been a nasty curse, though. "Why didn't they attack us, then?" They had wanted to, he was certain of that. The sight of them, ready and waiting, their weapons out, and their eager smiles...

"They can't afford to break the peace treaty," Sirius explained. "Other countries would get involved in that case - no one likes the little buggers, after all. But if the British Ministry can't protect them from the wizards and the goblins can claim self-defence? With Dumbledore gone, and given Britain's current situation in the ICW, that might just be enough for the other countries to leave us to deal with this alone." He shrugged again. "It's still insane, but the goblins don't think like we do."

"And yet the wizards let them guard their gold," Hermione said. "They granted them a monopoly, even."

Harry's godfather chuckled. "That was a bone thrown to the goblins to get them to stop rebelling. And it wasn't as if the Old Families were using Gringotts to store their gold anyway - they had their warded manors, after all. It was the rest of the wizards who were forced to either use Gringotts or risk a thief breaking into their poorly defended homes." He took a sip from his glass of French wine. "Things changed a little since then. All Old Families now have vaults in Gringotts, since it makes moving large sums easier - and probably safer, too - when dealing with others. But I don't think that any Old Family would keep all, or even most, of their valuables in Gringotts."

"Wards have improved too, though," Ron pointed out. "The ones on The Burrow are nasty."

"But Curse-Breaking has advanced as well," Hermione retorted. "Most families still can't afford reliable wards. They have to rely on Gringotts."

"Your wards don't need to be able to stop a thief - they just need to delay them long enough for the Aurors to arrive," Harry explained.

"I guess so," Hermione said. She didn't sound as if she were convinced, though.

She really should have more confidence in the Auror Corps, Harry thought with a frown. Or at least in Ron and himself.

London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, September 11th, 1998

Hermione Granger peered around the corner, then flicked her wand to check for spells in the hallway. There shouldn't be any - this was Grimmauld Place, after all, and it should be safe. But Harry and Ron had become a little paranoid lately, and she wouldn't put it past them to cast a few Alarm Charms into the hallway to alert them should anyone pass. Moody would approve of such antics, she thought with a frown.

She couldn't make out any spells. That didn't mean that there were no other alerts. Another spell didn't detect any, though. Once more she was tempted to use her mask - it would be far more convenient to activate the spells with a touch rather than to cast them with her wand each time - but if Harry or Ron stumbled upon her while she was wearing it… She winced as she imagined their reaction to an intruder in Grimmauld Place. And even if they recognised her, it would lead to very awkward questions - at best.

There were means to ensure that they wouldn't catch her, of course. But first, she needed to cast an alarm charm of her own, to alert her should her friends wander the house. Then she changed.

Hermione didn't make any sound as she sneaked past the door to Harry's room - the thick carpet and her soft paws ensured that. She didn't let her guard down, of course - Harry was a wily one. She hadn't forgotten how he had thrown her out of the house after ruthlessly interrupting her nap! And now she was forced to sneak around in her own home as if she were a mouse!

She turned the corner and padded past a secret entrance to the servants' passages. If she used those, she wouldn't have to bother with checking for spells and traps in her home. But there were spells on the passages to prevent anyone but the house-elves from using them, and Kreacher couldn't be trusted to adjust them so cats could pass as well. Even if he really should.

She reached the stairs and made her way to the basement's secret entrance. That one, at least, was properly enchanted to allow her in no matter what form she wore. A few quick swipes of her paw hit the bricks in rapid succession and the wall flowed away, forming a door to let her enter the lair.

"Ah, there's our kitty. I was worried that Harry had caught you again and thrown you out."

She glared at the grinning dog - that had only been one time! And Harry had cheated! - and contemplated pouncing on him. His nose could do with a good whack to remind him to treat a cat with the respect she was due.

But that would likely cause him to hold up their planning session in favour of trying to get back at her. And with two paranoid Aurors in the house, they didn't have the time for such antics.

She changed and scoffed at him. "I was merely cautious. Moody is a very bad influence on Harry and Ron."

Sirius grinned. "You could always claim that you were trying to sneak into his room to seduce him."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the trite joke. If she wanted to seduce Harry, she certainly wouldn't sneak into his room. And if she did sneak into his room at night, she'd be wearing something far more risqué than her house robes. Not that she would do that. It would be far better to let him make the first move - men liked that - and simply lead him on a little, maybe during a Defence lesson that got a little physical. It wouldn't take that much to ensure that her clothes ripped just the right way… She clenched her teeth as she forced the stupid thoughts away.

She nodded at Jeanne and Mr Fletcher, who had arrived through one of the escape tunnels. "Let's get this started while Ron and Harry are asleep." She summoned the map she had prepared earlier and spread it over the table with a flick of her wand, then tapped a building. "Borgin and Burkes. A shop in Knockturn Alley well known for trading in 'unusual and ancient artefacts'." Jeanne looked puzzled, so Hermione explained: "Dark artefacts. They have a certain reputation among the Old Families for discreetly dealing with such merchandise."

Mr Fletcher snorted. "They also work as fences. They're willing to take the kind of loot other fences won't touch, but they won't pay much."

"Upstanding members of society, in other words," Sirius said, "fleecing the poor and helping the Old Families circumvent some of those pesky laws about dark magic."

"And helping Death Eaters frame muggleborns for crimes they didn't commit," Hermione added.

"Ah." Jeanne nodded in understanding. "So this shop will be our next target?"

"Yes," Hermione said.

"Is that wise?" Jeanne asked. "Right after the riot?"

"The Aurors will be busy in Diagon Alley," Hermione said, "and the residents of Knockturn Alley will be keeping their heads down to avoid attracting attention." She looked at her tutor.

"Aye." He nodded. "Although some of the more daring scum might be thinking along these lines as well, so don't count on the Alley being deserted and safe."

She nodded. "I'm not." And he should know that. "We'll be casing the joint carefully before deciding how to do this."

Jeanne cocked her head as she looked at the map. "And what is our goal once we've broken into the shop?"

Hermione grinned. "Loot it to the bedrock, of course!"

"Even the dark artefacts?" Sirius asked.

"We can destroy those. Or leave them for the Aurors to find," Hermione said.

With the exception of any books, of course. Those would find a new home in her growing secret library!

London, Ministry of Magic, September 12th, 1998

"Come in!"

Harry Potter had just been about to knock on the door to Moody's office when the old Auror's yell startled him. He exchanged a wry smile with Ron - he should have expected that, even though the walls and doors were protected against the enchantments on his glasses - and opened the door.

Moody was sitting behind his desk, wand aimed at them. Harry stood still while the Auror closed the door with a flick of his wand and then cast several spells on them.

"Alright," Moody said. "What do you want?"

Harry cleared his throat. "You've heard that Ron and I have been partnered."

Moody nodded. "Rufus is a smart man. Sometimes a little too smart for his own good."

"We figured that out," Ron said. "But that still leaves us with half the Department hoping that we make a mistake and get humiliated."

"Half?" Moody snorted. "You're an optimist!"

Ron scoffed. "Not enough of an optimist to trust anyone but you and Tonks to help us. And Dad and Percy - but they don't know enough about how the Aurors work."

"And Tonks is currently on an assignment," Harry said. It was unlikely that she had been sent away just so she couldn't help them, but he wouldn't dismiss the possibility.

"So you came to me." Moody nodded. "Smart. All the idiots who think too highly of themselves will be watching for an opportunity to curse you in the back - and the Corps is full of them." He scoffed. "Useless idiots, the lot of them. After their piss-poor showing yesterday, I should bust all of them back to rookie Auror and train them properly."

Ron laughed. "That would be a sight to see."

"Oh, yes." Harry nodded. "Speaking of the riot: When we were guarding the cells, several suspects claimed to have been compelled to attack us."

Moody sneered. "Of course they would!" He shook his head. "People are pack animals. Or herd animals, in most cases. The Ministry allegedly covering up the Dark Lord's return certainly was enough for many to go out on the street to protest - especially the muggleborns. Black's frequent speeches in the Wizengamot about bigotry in the Ministry didn't help, of course. And once you have an angry, scared crowd, all you need for a riot is to give them an example or two."

"So there weren't any traces of Compulsion Charms or the Imperius Curse?" Harry asked.

"I didn't say that, did I?" Moody shook his head with a twisted grin. "There were some. Not nearly as many as people claiming they were compelled. But someone definitely helped the riot along."

"Who would do that?" Ron asked with a frown. "And why?"

"Too many possible suspects," Moody answered. "Some scum might have done it because they're twisted. Or because they hate the Aurors, the good citizens or both. Could've been Malfoy, trying to show that we need even more Aurors and funding. And maybe get rid of Bones and Scrimgeour by painting them as incompetent at the same time. Could've been an Auror wanting to look good in their report." He grinned at them. "Or perhaps the goblins, trying to find a pretext for a war."

None of those possibilities struck Harry as particularly likely. But he didn't have any better ideas either.

"Do you already know what you'll be doing?" Moody asked.

"No. But we expect to do patrolling," Harry answered. After all, Aurors were always patrolling, so it would be easy to put them to work.

"Unless they find an unsolvable case for us." Ron grinned cynically.

"Giving up already?" Moody's grin would have curdled milk.

"Of course not," Harry said. "But we have a few questions about filing reports."

"And other paperwork," Ron added.

Moody's face twisted into a grimace. Harry carefully refrained from smiling.

London, Knockturn Alley, September 12th, 1998

"What was it that Scrimgeour said? 'We don't send rookies into Knockturn Alley - that'd be a recipe for disaster.'?" Ron scoffed.

"Well, he also said he wouldn't treat us like rookies," Harry Potter pointed out as he tapped his glasses to check the corner ahead of them. And the roofs. And the sewers - Moody had shared a lot of stories about ambushes in Knockturn Alley. "Clear," he said.

Ron nodded and moved a little ahead, covering the closest shadows with his wand. "I'd believe that if we hadn't gotten the graveyard shift - on a Saturday!"

"So?" Harry shrugged as he kept an eye on the low roof ahead of them. That would be an ideal spot to catch them in a crossfire if someone attacked them from the side alley ahead. "With all the wounded, they must be short on Aurors. And it's not as if you are missing out on anything important. Even if today were a Hogsmeade weekend, Luna would've been back at Hogwarts long before our shift started."

His friend snorted. "There's more to the weekend than going out with your girlfriend, you know. Or should know." He took a step forward and aimed his wand down the side alley. "Clear."

Was that a dig at Harry currently being single? "Such as?" Harry asked.

"We could have gone to a pub." Ron moved up to the next side alley.

"We did go to a pub until our shift started," Harry pointed out as he glanced behind them, checking if anyone was sneaking up on them. His Human-presence-revealing Spell didn't show any markers, but its range was limited.

"We didn't drink much, though," Ron said.

"Would you have gotten drunk if we didn't have the graveyard shift?" That would have been an interesting talk with Luna over their mirror, Harry thought.

"Well, no, but it's the principle of the thing. Besides, if we don't get upset at these shifts, they'll think we're OK with them. And that would be a major annoyance in nine months and one week." Ron said.

"Are you actually counting the days until Luna finishes her year?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron said, then held up his hand.

"Trouble?" Harry asked as he came up to Ron's spot.

"Possibly." Ron pointed ahead. There were several people standing in front of the entrance to the 'Drunk Pixie', a notorious dive popular among thugs and other criminals. "The other pubs we passed didn't have so many people outside." None, actually, who weren't leaving.

"Those were closer to Diagon Alley," Harry said. "They might feel safer here." And wasn't that ironic?

"Optimist," Ron replied, snorting.

"I don't spot anyone lying in wait," Harry said, using his glasses. "But they might just be incompetent."

"Used to other Aurors." Ron grinned. "Let's see what they'll do?" He cast a Shield Charm.

"Yes." Harry nodded and followed Ron's example before he started to walk towards the group. Ron fell in a step behind and to his right. As they got closer, Harry once more used his glasses to check for hidden threats. There were none - but the group, six in total, had spotted them, and they were now fanning out with wands drawn but kept at their sides, pointed down.

And that wasn't normal behaviour, even for Knockturn Alley. Unless they were looking for a fight.

"No one on our flanks," he whispered.

"Idiots," Ron answered. "I'll take right."

As they walked closer, Harry studied the six thugs facing them. Four men, two women. Shabby-looking robes in various styles, but sturdy boots and gloves. And they all had enchanted wand holsters. Experienced and moderately successful thugs, then.

But not smart ones, he thought.

As if on cue, the apparent leader of the thugs spoke up. "What do we have here, gents? A pair of rookie Aurors on their first patrol, huh?"

Harry's eyes widened. They knew this was their first patrol. And they knew that they didn't have an experienced Auror with them. This was a set-up, not some random trouble.

"They look more like students dressed up in transfigured Auror robes," the woman next to the leader spoke, "I wonder if they…"

Harry cut her off with a Bludgeoning Curse to the stomach.

For such a shabby-looking shop, Borgin and Burkes had very strong wards, Hermione Granger thought as she studied the house from the roof across the Alley, hidden in the shadow cast by a particularly large chimney. That had been expected, of course - no shop specialising in dark artefacts would have weak protections. Especially not in Knockturn Alley, where Aurors feared to tread.

Feared to tread so much that they sent rookie Aurors to patrol it at midnight instead of experienced ones, she thought, clenching her teeth at how rotten the Auror Corps had to be to allow this.

She shook her head and focused on the shop again. There was a covered side alley on one side. If she dealt with the wards, she could go through the wall there. Vanish or transfigure the bricks to create a hole. But that would leave traces, even if she fixed it afterwards. And they were likely to have put spells on the walls, just in case their neighbours had designs on them. Still, it might serve well as a distraction - for Borgin, and maybe the DMLE.

Because she would be going in through the windows of the second floor. The first floor's windows had a convenient ledge at their bottom. A little too convenient, in her opinion, to risk using it. And the roof lacked an attic window.

But she'd have to deal with the wards first. And they were nasty wards. Older than a century and probably containing a number of spells that were now illegal. But she would have to be closer to the building to analyse its wards. And she didn't like the roofs of the neighbouring houses. And the Alley… She shook her head. Even with most of its regular denizens keeping a low profile while the DMLE was sorting out Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley wasn't a safe place for dealing with lethal wards.

She sighed. She would have to use a floating platform. She could enchant an invisible platform easily, but she'd need a lookout while she analysed the wards. Which meant she would need help. From Sirius, since Mr Fletcher didn't want to slow her down, as he put it, and Jeanne didn't have enough experience with that kind of work yet.

She hoped her tutor get over his… depression, she thought. Losing his foot didn't mean that he was useless. If only he'd see that as well!

But if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. She tapped her mask and took a closer look at the protruding windows of the shop's ground floor. Not quite display windows, and reinforced with spells, she was certain. And probably enchanted to show nothing but a cluttered shop no matter what was going on inside - she didn't think distinguished members of Old Families wanted to be seen frequenting this shop. She'd have to check that up close as well; it would make it easier to avoid detection by passers-by once she was inside.

Not that the passers-by in this area would be likely to alert the DMLE, should they spot a thief. They were more likely to try and exploit the opportunity to loot the shop themselves. Which would be a problem as well, of course.

At least the neighbouring shops didn't look like they would attract clients at this time of the night, she noted as she looked them over. No pubs or brothels, just more shady shops and cramped flats. She didn't spot any hags or other creatures nearby, but that didn't mean anything; they would be the first to hide in the current situation - if someone was willing to attack the goblins, they might be willing to attack a hag as well. Or a vampire, she added, shivering slightly as she recalled her encounter with Tripe.

She sighed again. This heist would require a longer period of time spent casing the joint than she had hoped. At least Harry and Ron had pulled the graveyard shift for the week, so she wouldn't have to go to great lengths to cover up her own absence during the night.

Hermione was about to climb down in the side alley next to her perch when a flash followed by an explosion drew her attention. She whipped around. More flashes - various spells, she realised - and more explosions, and not too far away.

She blinked, then gasped. Harry and Ron were on patrol in the area!

A moment later, she was jumping to the next roof as she made her way towards the battle.

Harry Potter's curse doubled the witch over and threw her back almost a yard. She collapsed, clutching her stomach, as Harry dropped into a crouch and cast another Bludgeoning Curse at the wizard next to her while the thug was still staring at her. The curse caught the man on his shoulder and whirled him around. A Stunner finished him off before he hit the ground.

Ron had dropped the apparent leader with a Stunner to his face and followed up with a Bludgeoning Curse to the man's wand hand that broke both wand and bones.

The three remaining thugs, though, overcame their shock and a yellow curse splattered against Harry's shield. He almost returned fire with a Piercing Curse to the head, but lowered his aim and hit the man in the leg instead. The thug fell and started screaming as Blasting Curse flew past Harry and blew up part of the front of the house behind him.

Harry dropped to the ground and rolled to the side, moving his wand to curse the witch who had just tried to kill him, but Ron was quicker and the witch's screams joined the thug's as Harry's friend smashed her legs with a curse.

Harry kept rolling - another spell missed him and covered the ground with some liquid - and came up with his wand aimed at the last thug standing. A second later, Harry's next Bludgeoning Curse hit the man in the head, knocking him back and out.

"You alright?" Harry heard Ron ask as he looked for more threats.

"Yes. You?"

"Yes. They weren't fooling around," Ron said and stunned the thugs who were still conscious.

Harry kept an eye on the Drunk Pixie. The pub was still open, and they had to have heard the battle. He didn't see anyone coming to check what had happened, though. Anyone frequenting that dive would have good reasons not to get involved no matter who won the fight, of course, but still… it looked very suspicious to Harry.

"Someone cast an Anti-Portkey Jinx," Ron said, holding up the Portkey that should have transported the thugs back to the Ministry.

Harry muttered a curse under his breath. The thugs could have done that - or it could be the work of someone else. Someone still around. "Get them bound and stuck together," he told Ron, "I'll cover us." That would let them float the six suspects out of the Alley with one spell.

"Alright." Ron started to cast and Harry kept his wand trained on the pub's front as he looked around for more enemies.

The fighting had stopped before Hermione Granger reached the scene of the battle - she couldn't see any more spells flashing, nor did she hear any further explosions - and so she didn't keep rushing forward, but stopped two houses away and changed.

A moment later, she was moving again, on four paws. It didn't take her more than a few seconds to reach the last roof, and, even slowing down to avoid drawing attention, she was at the roof's edge, peering down at the Alley, before more than twenty seconds had passed - she was familiar with the area, after all.

There was Harry! And Ron! And half a dozen unconscious thugs! She stared. Her friends seemed unhurt. Unlike their enemies, who were unconscious, paralysed, and apparently about to be stuck to one another by Ron.

Clever, she thought, once Ron finished and levitated the entire group. She'd have conjured a plank, though, in his place. She looked around. Harry was covering the pub with his wand while Ron floated the captured thugs away. Smart, she thought, remembering her own visit to the Drunk Pixie.

And then Harry turned in her direction and she recoiled, ducking down. Had he spotted her? She held her breath, pushing herself against the cold roof - her fur must be getting all filthy - so she wouldn't be visible from below, not at that angle.

Seconds passed. Nothing happened. She started breathing again. After about a minute, she slowly raised her head and peered down at the Alley again.

Her friends were gone. She sighed in relief.

Movement! On the roof? Harry Potter whirled around, wand rising, then stopped. There was nothing there. His Human-presence-revealing Spell didn't show any markers either - and the roof was in range. No Invisibility Cloak, then, nor a Disillusionment Charm.

He activated his glasses, then grinned. It was just a cat. The battle must have scared it - it was hiding in the rain gutters.

Shaking his head, he followed Ron out of the Alley. They had half a dozen thugs to process.

And find out who had ordered the scum to ambush them.