Hermione had screamed along with the rest of the spectators when the thing that wasn't quite a man came out of the cauldron, then fallen silent, her hands rising unconsciously to her mouth, when dozens of masked and robed Death Eaters apparated into the cemetery.

The whispers shouldn't have surprised her, but they did. "Is that - You-Know-Who?" and "The Dark Lord!" and others, but no one spoke his name: Voldemort.

Voldemort was back - at least, the people around her believed he was back - and still Callen's team didn't attack.

Hermione was grateful the feed didn't have sound - Harry's reaction alone made it clear that Voldemort had cast some kind of pain-causing spell. She wouldn't be surprised if it was the Cruciatus, but she was selfishly, shamefully, glad that she couldn't hear Harry's screams.

Then the attack came, spells and weapons firing in a manner that looked wild but was, at least on Callen's side, planned and precise.

Then a mass of bodies hurtled through the image - Goblins? Why are goblins fighting beside Callen's team? - and the image on the screen became so chaotic that she couldn't follow it at all.

When the dust finally settled - not that spellfire caused much dust compared to firearms - Callen's team was largely unhurt, and all of the Death Eaters were on the ground or had their hands up in the universal signal of surrender.

And then …

Then …

Then Harry stepped forward, accepted a gun from Callen, and shot the thing that had come out of the cauldron.

Hermione knew what Callen's and Sam's jobs were, that they were law enforcement officers and sometimes their jobs required them to kill. She knew that Harry attended a magical and military school, where among other things, he'd be taught to kill in defense of his country. She understood that, or thought she had.

But she'd just watched Harry murder someone, something, who was helpless on the ground.

But was it murder? Was it murder when that thing had already tortured Harry, and was surrounded by Death Eaters - she recognized the masks from her outside readings on the history of the magical world - who supported that torture and whatever else might have followed if Callen's team hadn't been there?

Shouts drew Hermione from her musings, and she looked to the screen to see that someone was unmasking the Death Eaters one by one, their faces, more than ten times life size, illuminated on the screen for all to see.

The shouts were disbelieving - "Impossible!" and "This must be faked!" and "I don't believe it!" - but underneath the disbelief, Hermione sensed a weary, resigned acceptance. She felt that same way when Lucius Malfoy's face was revealed.

"Preposterous!" That shout echoed across the Quidditch pitch and the maze with such force that Hermione suspected an Amplifying Charm, though she didn't recognize the voice.

The final face was revealed, and the crowd settled uneasily while they watched Sam administer some kind of field healing to Harry while Kensi and Deeks bound the surviving Death Eaters with what looked like magic-inhibiting handcuffs.

Callen's apparently friendly exchange with the goblins drew a few murmurs of surprise, and then the goblins apparated away.

After a few minutes of apparent conversation between Callen's team and Harry, Sam and Callen dragged the thing that might have been Voldemort closer to Harry. Callen knelt between Harry and the body, placing one hand on each, and then the three of them apparated …

… only to reappear on the judges' platform.

The champions' boxes were closest to the platform so that the victor's family and friends could join him, and Hermione was halfway out of her seat to rush to Harry's side when Callen's Amplified voice sat her right back down.

"Any Aurors on site?"

A woman's Amplified voice returned, "Ten of us, Callen. Joining you now."

Hermione saw Callen's grin. "I have a portkey for you. The rest of my team are keeping the prisoners quiet."

Then the Aurors were climbing the steps to the platform, and Hermione knew better than to interrupt now, so she strained to see Harry, to see if he was all right, as if she knew anything about what all right might mean in this moment.

Harry was on the platform floor, leaning against one of the posts supporting the canopy over it, his eyes closed, though his body seemed to tremble a little sometimes. Hermione allowed herself to relax, just a little.

Keeping one eye on Harry, Hermione listened to Callen - without the Amplify charm, though his voice carried to her in the cool night air - give the Aurors a brief report on what to expect once they arrived at their destination, as if they hadn't seen everything on the screen just like she had.

Harry will be okay, she told herself over and over. He'll be okay. He has to be.

Just as Callen was giving the Aurors the activation phrase for the portkey, another voice rang out.

"Aurors! Arrest them!"

Hermione jerked around to see a portly man wearing a pinstriped cloak - and, of all things, a lime green bowler hat - hurrying toward the platform.

The Auror Callen had been speaking to - a square-jawed woman wearing a monocle - turned to the man as he heaved himself up the stairs.

"Arrest whom for what, Minister?" she asked evenly, and Hermione blinked.

This was Cornelius Fudge? Why had the Minister for Magic attended the final task of a silly inter-school competition? Hermione shoved the questions aside to focus on the platform.

"Them!" The Minister pointed at Callen and Harry. "For murder!"

"No!" Hermione shouted, and hers wasn't the only voice raised in protest.

"You watched it, all of you!" Fudge shouted. "They killed dozens of respectable members of society!"

"Is this a respectable member of society?" Callen asked, nudging Voldemort's body with his boot.

Fudge - Minister Fudge, Hermione corrected herself - sniffed. "I don't know what that is - but I recognize Lucius Malfoy, and Fergal Avery, and David Crabbe, Edward Nott - all prominent citizens. All dead - by your hand!"

"And every one of them had come at that thing's call," the woman replied. "They answered a call and helped that thing, as you put it, torture that young man there - in case you haven't realized, that's Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived."

"H-hate th-that name." Harry's voice was just loud enough for Hermione to make it out. The minister and the Aurors didn't hear, or they paid it no mind.

"We have no proof of that!" Fudge shouted. "There was no audio on that - that -"

"We don't need audio to see the effects of the Cruciatus Curse," the Auror replied, her tone stiff. "Some of us remember seeing it quite clearly during the Blood War."

That slowed the minister down for a moment, but only a moment. "Those effects can be faked, Madam Bones. Arrest them, by order of the Minister of Magic, or I'll have your job!"

"You will not."

The command, spoken in a feminine voice that brooked no argument, came from beside Hermione, and she turned to stare at Alexandra. The woman had risen from her seat, a determined expression on her face.

"You will not, Minister," she said again. "Madam Bones, you and your Aurors will work with Mr. Callen to capture and detain the terrorists who attacked Harry Potter."

Hermione returned her attention to the spluttering minister. "Who are you to give me orders? I'm the Minister of Magic, and -!"

"For, Mr. Fudge," Alexandra replied. "You are the Minister for Magic, not of Magic, and you may be assured we will be discussing that further. As to who I am - I am Elizabeth, second of that name, by the grace of Magic your Queen."

Hermione felt certain her eyes were as wide as her mouth as she watched a glamour fall away from slender, young Alexandra to reveal a more mature woman in a bright purple dress and coat that just matched the cap in the crown on her head.

Hermione recognized her, of course - probably everyone in the world with a telly would recognize her - and she fought the urge to curtsy. Only Sirius' murmured "Protego" brought her back to the present, her curiosity burning.

Why would Sirius feel the need to protect his queen? Who would -?

Hermione scanned the people on the platform, and then around the stands. Most everyone was in shock at the revelation. Some were already dropping into curtsies or bows. A few -

A few looked angry, perhaps even ready to kill, and that surprised her more than Alexandra's - Her Majesty's - revelation had.

Her wand slipped into her hand. She wasn't certain what she, a fourth-year Hogwarts student, could do that Sirius or Callen couldn't, but she was a subject of Her Majesty, and she would defend her Queen as best she could, or die in the attempt.

The minister's snort cut through her sudden tension. "You think I'll let a Muggle tell me what to do?"

A gasp echoed through the stands, but Her Majesty looked unruffled - the result of a lifetime in the public eye, Hermione decided.

"I don't have to think it, Mr. Fudge," the Queen replied. "I know it. You are - for now - the Minister for Magic, serving at my pleasure." Minister Fudge started to speak, but she held up a hand. "I know, you'll talk about elections and such, and that is true, to an extent. However, in these moments, you have acted unconscionably -"

"Avada -"

Hermione didn't know who'd started to cast that dreadful spell - she knew only that Sirius' shield wouldn't protect Her Majesty from it. In a moment, she had transfigured the seats around them into six-foot-tall block walls.

The walls shook, and bits of masonry tumbled, but they held.

"Good work," Sirius said, and Hermione flushed even as she cast spells to reinforce the walls.

For a few minutes, spellfire and shouting surrounded them, and then Callen's voice rang out.

"All clear, Sirius - everything's copacetic."

"Copacetic?" Hermione repeated. "Who uses words like that?"

Sirius was already in the process of re-transfiguring the walls she'd erected. "We do - when we need a code word."

That made a strange kind of sense, Hermione decided, adding her spells to Sirius'. A minute or two later, the walls were down and she could see the victors' platform once again.

In addition to Harry, still lying semi-conscious against the table, three other people lay on the platform, though they were all apparently stunned and bound by a Binding Spell. Minister Fudge, however, stood gaping at the scene, unable to do much more than breathe.

"Thank you for your quick actions, Mr. Black, Ms. Granger," Her Majesty said. "And to you and your team, Mr. Callen, for securing the scene so quickly. I believe you were giving the … Aurors … instructions before this spot of bother?"

Quickly, Callen finished those instructions, and the Aurors apparated away. While he did that, Her Majesty asked Sirius to escort her to the platform, and Hermione fell back into her seat.

I met the Queen. I helped save the Queen. Mum and Dad are never going to believe this.

"Now," the Queen said as she faced Fudge - Minister - or maybe not anymore? - on the platform, "we have things to discuss. Perhaps your office?" Fudge managed a nod, and the Queen turned to Sirius. "My apologies for keeping you from your godson, Mr. Black, but I require your services as magical escort just a little longer."

"Of course, Ma'am," Sirius said. He looked at Fudge. "I'll have Her Majesty to your office in ten minutes. I'm sure you won't keep her waiting."

That seemed to shake Fudge from his stupor. "N- no, of course not. Your Majesty."

He apparated away as well, and with a glance at the Queen, Sirius crossed to Harry, knelt beside him, and leaned forward to whisper something that Hermione couldn't catch, even as she made her way to the platform.

Then Sirius and the Queen were gone, and she found herself staring at Callen with only one question on her mind.

"What really happened out there?"