Chapter 16: Precipice
May 19, 1998 Tuesday
A loud pop echoed along the hillside. Bellatrix pointed to the safe house in the distance. "I think the Ministry knows about this place, but it's never been used. We can reinforce the defenses. Give us an early warning if someone gets too close. I think you'll find the house more suited to your needs."
Tom studied the property. He kept waiting for things to feel familiar. Knew that was foolish. This hadn't been his life. The pair walked forward, wands out. The shields recognized him. When he was able to step through without effort he turned to look at the invisible barrier.
Bellatrix shot out a charm that tested the barriers. Her brow creased when red sparks flew up from the south side. They both walked over to the spot and studied the broken rock face.
"That's my rune," Tom said, pointing to the mark.
"You… your double established this property for yourself. No one else has used it," she explained and mended the rocks. Satisfied the rest of the outer wards were intact, she turned to the house. Hefting up her bag, she shook her head. She should have just left the memories there, secured behind the wall. In the end though, she felt better having them in her possession.
Walking through the house, Tom lit up every room's torch. Searched for any evidence of intruders.
While he was distracted, Bellatrix quickly cleaned up the ashes and scorch marks in the chair. She hadn't been able to deal with her failure until that moment. There was another clone that needed her attention. She also repaired the wall that had housed the decades of memories. They needed a more worthy space to be kept them until Tom was ready. Moving an empty chest to the living room, she placed each vial in with reverence. Satisfied they were secure she found a spot on the counter that was meant to function as a bar.
"I think we secure this room. Doors with strong magical locks. Wards to keep someone from apparating in or out," Tom said entering from the kitchen. "Oh good. It even has a bathroom. The windows need to go though."
"The house is secure."
"I would like a spot that is more secure," he said, sounding reasonable.
"I think this would be easier if you had Voldemort's memories."
"I heard your opinion. I'm not ready to be him and I'm not ready to reveal myself," he dismissed her. "Make the changes to the room."
"My lord—"
"Make the changes! Crucio!"
The curse was a shock to her system. One she had never once experienced herself. To feel it at the hands of Tom Riddle was an even greater insult. When he released her, she got to work on transfiguring the windows. Conjuring doors and configuring an intricate locking system. She took an extra step to reinforce the wall by transfiguring the plaster to stone and creating air vents with sturdy grates. When she was done, she was surprised that it reminded her of the Slytherin common room. It hadn't been intentional, but she could tell it was familiar to him as well.
"Good, this is good. Next, I need to know what's been happening at the Ministry after the war. I need to understand the political environment."
Bellatrix's brow furrowed. "Like copies of the Daily Prophet?"
"That's a start."
"To learn about Hermione Granger." It was a statement not a question.
"Did I say that?" he asked, sitting in the chair his clone had died in.
Risking his wrath again, she pressed. "Can you… It would help me if I understood why you want to do this. She's nothing to you."
"She's not nothing is she? She should be. A mudblood. She shouldn't even have been allowed to attend Hogwarts. Despite this, the Minister has appointed her to his cabinet? While I have to work in secret. Convince people to join me in the shadows? Her only experience is that she escaped and survived me and now she'll be influential in reshaping the entire Ministry of Magic. And you wonder why?"
She shifted uncomfortably but waited.
He seemed to sense she wasn't convinced. "You want me to rebuild my followers. Don't you think there are many across the country that are insulted that Hermione Granger, teenage mudblood, has more influence on our way of life than nearly every other wizard in this country? I can rally support by rising from the grave, my body renewed. But it will take time to convince people. I will gain more ground by also empowering those who don't want to be ruled and lectured by mudbloods who know nothing of our heritage and legacy. People who are afraid are the easiest of all to manipulate and I'm sure purebloods are afraid right now. Afraid of an overreaction to favor muggle-borns at the expense of our most ancient families. They're afraid they'll be left behind during the Ministry's grand reconstruction. We need to understand the political landscape to know how to manipulate it. Hermione Granger seems like the perfect flash point."
It was a sophisticated observation. Clearly, Tom had gotten more than education in the Dark Arts during his years in Albania. "I think I understand. I'll get information for you."
"Excellent. I'll be here."
~~/~~
May 19, 1998 Tuesday
"Maybe they'll let us keep the car," Harry said to Hermione as they waited on the elevator to arrive in the department of mysteries.
"We don't need the car." She sounded stern. He could tell she was uncomfortable.
"I know we don't need it, but it would be pretty cool to have it."
When the doors opened to the familiar hallway, she rolled her eyes, and took his hand. They met Remus and Dumbledore in the entrance to the hall of prophecies.
"Hermione, how are you?" Lupin stepped forward and kissed her cheek.
"Better. Not sure I believe how helpful this is," she said, waving toward the shelves of crystal balls.
"Humor us," Harry said and pulled her forward.
"All of Cassandra's contributions are in the same section," Dumbledore explained and led them to a large section that stretched on for sixty feet. Looking up there were twelve tiers of shelves. In all, Hermione guessed there were tens of thousands of prophecies. "She was quite prolific."
"Where would we even start?" Hermione asked.
"Well, based on her assessment, she only had visions about you after Voldemort sought her out to learn about you. Then, she believes the only time she was able to see you was when you were there, in her time," Dumbledore continued, and produced a list of dates.
She studied her old friend. He looked unreasonably tired. Deciding her aversion to divinations was silly compared to the threat they were facing, he looked at the shelves. "I guess that narrows it down."
Harry found the date of the prophecy they already had. The tag read: July 29, 1979. Subjects Unknown. "Hermione," he got her attention.
She reached out her hand and let her fingertips brush the glass. Cassandra's voice echoed in her head. "When time is broken, only two will know the truth and only one can make it right. Love chosen will save the mother's love given." She gasped. With the voice, came flashes of images. They left her confused. Her hand recoiled.
"Hermione?" Harry steadied her left arm. Remus and Albus joined them.
"Hermione, we need you to pick it up," Lupin encouraged.
She shook her head and backed away. "No."
Albus came up to place a hand of support on her right arm. With the strength of the two most important men in her life, she took a step forward. They felt her tremble. Finally her hand reached out again, and she picked it up. The weight of the vision was overwhelming. Dumbledore had to steady the hand that held the fragile vessel while Harry kept her upright.
Her eyes were focused straight ahead of her, seeing something her companions couldn't. Remus dug in his pocket for a pouch that normally stored a vial of Wolfsbane potion. It was padded to protect the precious liquid. Eight days past the full moon, the pouch was empty. Holding it out, Dumbledore helped her deposit the glass ball in the protections of the fabric.
Once she was no longer touching it, she snapped out of her trance. "Oh. Merlin. No."
"What did you see?" Harry asked her.
She blinked her eyes. Tears trailed down her cheeks and a sadness clouded her eyes. "The end of the world."
Harry would have laughed if anyone else had said those words. Her reactions alone were enough for him to take her seriously. "Let's go out. Lupin can look for more prophecies that might be of interest. That's the only one we know is in here."
"No. You said Cassandra had more. From 1971," she protested.
Albus and Lupin exchanged knowing looks, both decided it was not the time to broach the topic of meeting with Sybill. "We'll talk about those later. Go get some air and we'll meet you upstairs."
When no more protests came, Harry led her from the room and back up to the conference room now solely dedicated to their small taskforce. He got her in a chair, and poured her some water. "I'm fine, Harry."
"I'm not," he said. "Just sit with me for a minute." He didn't want to make her explain what she saw twice and decided it was best to just let her calm down and wait for Remus and Dumbledore to rejoin them.
They weren't waiting long. As they expected there were no more prophecies in Cassandra's section that could possibly apply to Hermione. The two men sat down across from Harry and Hermione. "Can you explain what you saw?" Albus asked.
"Everything was wrong. We didn't win the war. No one knew we should have except myself and someone else… I couldn't make out a face. I think it was male," the revelation even seemed to surprise her. "Then I saw Tom. Before he was Voldemort."
"He changed the past?" Harry asked.
She nodded. "I think he killed Lily. I was too late. I didn't save her."
"Shh. You did it, you saved me."
"No. This is different. I think I do save her eventually, but…"
"But what?" Harry asked fear creeping up.
"But in order to save her this time. I don't think I make it. I think either Voldemort kills me or the wizarding world as we know it falls."
"In the past?" Lupin asked.
Hermione held her head in her hands. "I don't know. None of it is linear. I don't know if that's because it's a vision or if it's because of time travel."
A knock at the door stopped further conversation.
"Am I early?" Sybill asked. "I was afraid I'd be late."
Lupin stood. "I can take her for a coffee."
"No, no it's ok," Hermione relented. "Is this about the other prophecies?"
"According to Cassandra, she gave them to Sybill but died before she could retrieve them," Dumbledore said, shifting uncomfortably.
Sybill sat confused by the explanation.
"I wasn't able to elicit the recall, so we thought if you were in the same room, she might have better luck," Lupin finished quickly. As far as Sybill was concerned the prophecies from Cassandra's were a result of her own talent. No one wanted to shatter that illusion. It couldn't be helped.
"Hermione, this can wait," Harry interrupted.
"I'd rather just get this over with."
"We just need a representative from the halls of prophecy," Dumbledore pointed out.
"Here," a quiet voice said. A stout wizard entered and set down a small briefcase. "Jordan Goode." As he introduced himself, he opened the case to reveal empty glass balls to retain the copies of the prophecy. "It will help if we remove as many distractions as possible."
When no one moved, Hermione took charge. "Just give us some privacy, I'll take notes and Mister Goode will get a copy."
Albus, Lupin, and Harry reluctantly left, closing the door behind them.
"Right, then. Sybill, this won't be unfamiliar for you. Hermione, you may want to sit across from her."
Hermione nodded, and walked to the over side of the table. The two witches faced each other. Sybill held out both hands. Hermione took them, let the divination professor concentrate.
After twenty minutes, Hermione's back was starting to ache and she moved to pull away. Trelawney's grip tightened reflexively. "One will become two... ior will mark the end of the beginning, but beware the end is just beginning... The traveler will hold the secret to the dark lord's downfall."
Hermione watched as Jordan captured the prophecy much like the duplication of memories, but instead of silver strands, smoke escaped the joined hands. The smoke followed by Jordan's wand tracing a path to one of the awaiting globes. He frowned as the haze seemed to partition within the glass. "It seems the prophecy is fragmented. There are pieces that may be lost."
Thinking it was over, Hermione started to pull away again to ask what he meant but jumped when Trelawny spoke again. "Two will become one again when the past and future collide... The traveler will decide which one will survive… each must die at the other's hand."
Jordan repeated the process of catching the smoke. It too partitioned itself.
Then one final prophecy was spoken. "When the dark lord rises again, a muggle-born will challenge him. Nevertheless, time will be the true enemy of both. When memories change, the traveler must meet the half blood in the shack where this began."
When the globes were secured, Hermione scowled at them. "Could I hold one?"
"Of course, they're about you," Jordan said and pushed the case toward her.
With a tentative reach, she touched just the tip of her finger on top the first prophecy. Nothing happened. She picked it up and waited for the visions. "Nothing," she said in a whisper.
"What's that?" Jordan asked.
"The last prophecy I touched showed me… things."
His eyes grew wide. "That is not a common occurrence. Only the most potent of prophecies can result in such experiences."
Frustrated, she held each one, confirming they were each partially about her. Not only were they vague, they were incomplete. She smiled at the witch sitting across from her. "Thank you Professor Trelawney."
"Of course my dear," she said, looking genuinely surprised to see three legitimate prophecies being catalogued under her name.
"I knew your grandmother. She was a talented seer," Jordan told her. Securing and locking the case, he handed Hermione a parchment with the catalog number and recorded words of the prophecy.
"I have one more question. Is it possible that a prophecy might invade someone's dreams if the seer and the subject are in the same building?"
Jordan looked from Hermione to Sybill. "Well, yes. If a prophecy was trying to get to the subject in time for it to provide the necessary knowledge it can travel a short distance. You and Professor Trelawney would have been in the same classroom multiple times. Did you two never touch during that time? I can't imagine such a drastic action was needed."
"I didn't finish Divination class. My schedule was too full," Hermione admitted and looked at her former professor. "I had a very strange dream right before Tom Riddle took me. It was really a warning. A warning that actually helped me."
"Yes, well, if the prophecy was urgent enough, the seer would have been capable of sending it to you a short distance," Jordan confirmed and left the conference room.
With the door open, Hermione could see the queue that had formed. She was surprised to see the Minister waiting with the others. She jumped up and met him. "Minister, I'm sorry. Your meeting here must be running late because we tied up the room."
"I came down early. You should stay for the update," he said, and took his seat at the head of the table.
Trelawney stood awkwardly. "I should go prepare for my next class. I hope my prophecies help you, Miss Granger."
"It seems they already have, Professor," she said with a small smile.
Dumbledore praised the seer on her way out of the door, and joined the rest around the table. Hermione sat next to Harry. Everyone listened to Williamson assess the protections around their house and detail the search strategy to find Bellatrix. When the topic of the prophecy came up on the agenda, all eyes focused on Hermione.
She shifted uncomfortably. "The prophecies from Professor Trelawney were incomplete. It would be irresponsible to assume anything can be known because of these visions. We also have no way to know if these prophecies were about events that have already happened."
Kingsley smiled. "Divination isn't an exact science. I will give you that, Director. Until arithmancy can provide us with some clues, we'll have to make due."
Relenting, Hermione read out the words from each prophecy and finished with the visions she received from Cassandra's prophecy. A lively debate proceeded in the interpretation of each one. No consensus was achieved.
"Okay," Shacklebolt silenced the debate. "We can agree these prophecies are concerning, I don't think any of them will change our current planning. Finding Bellatrix Lestrange remains the priority."
"Minister," Hermione interrupted, waited for him to motion her to continue. "It could be worth it to consider alerting the public that Bellatrix is alive and in the country. We have evidence that this is true. Keeping it classified only helps her."
"I disagree," Williamson interjected. "For now. Our only advantage is that she is unaware of our knowledge. As long as she thinks no one is looking for her, the better chance we have that she'll make a mistake."
"I'm inclined to agree with Henry," the Minister decided. "Until we've exhausted all our resources. Then we'll turn to the public."
She couldn't argue with the logic. And she trusted those in the room with more experience than her.
"Is there anything else?" the Minister asked. Silence confirmed they had no additional leads to discuss. "Okay. Director, join me? I'd like to discuss your report and your plans for staffing your department."
Hermione followed him to his office, trying to switch gears. She wasn't unprepared to have the discussion, it hadn't been her plan either. Once they were settled in his sitting area, he smiled at her. "I don't mean to put you on the spot."
"It's ok. I'm glad to take advantage of any time you have to spare. I wasn't sure I would make it in this week. I planned to make an appointment as soon as I was clear to apparate."
"As I said, I read your report. You seemed to have conducted a very thorough review of current policies," he said with a grimace.
"I couldn't do much other than read last week. I'd be interested in your advice on my stated priorities."
"You've established an ambitious road map. Summer school for muggle born students prior to entrance into Hogwarts, a beast and being resource center which would include free and anonymous access to wolfsbane potion, a request-for-freedom process for house elves, giant relocation services, a goblin cooperation embassy, a freedom of information department, free law clinics for all members of our community, whistleblower protections, a heritage preservation center, and a dark arts historian with a neutralization squad," he ticked off each recommendation. "You'll need a large staff to implement these initiatives. I've prepared a budget."
A parchment appeared in front of her. The investment was substantial.
"There are start-up costs in there, and we'll need to revisit an annual budget once you're up and running."
"This is… very… this is a lot," she finally said.
He laughed. "I'm not here to leave things as they are. I am curious about one item here. The heritage preservation center."
"When I was in the past, I read several issues of the Daily Prophet. With the benefit of future knowledge, it was easier to see how Voldemort was able to prey on the fears of the purebred families. I can't imagine those insecurities are much different than they are today. We have to show those families that we're not trying to rewrite our history, that we plan to honor our legacy through progress. They may be more inclined to give us the benefit of the doubt. I thought a heritage center highlighting the sacred twenty-eight, showing the incredible progress we've made as a community, could be an olive branch."
"I think it's a smart strategy. Put together a department organizational structure and job descriptions for key personnel you'll need to implement this. Send a copy to Myrtle and she'll help you navigate the hiring process."
"Thank you," she finished and left the office. Realizing she needed to wait for Harry to go home and he likely had work to do she approached Myrtle. "Sorry to bother you. I wondered if I had an office?"
The admin laughed. "Of course! We weren't expecting you this week so I didn't think to show you around. I can take you down. Just give me one minute to make sure the Minister has everything he needs for his next meeting."
Hermione waited awkwardly. She had no parchments, no quills… had no idea how to navigate the Ministry building or bureaucracy.
"All set, come with me," Myrtle said and marched with purpose toward the elevators.
Once they got in, Hermione cleared her throat. "The Minister asked me to work with you to handle staffing. I don't want to take up too much of your time. Perhaps you can help me find an admin who could help me?"
"Oh, of course, Director. We have a steno pool. When we get down to your office, I'll request a temp for you. I know most of them, and will make sure they send someone I trust."
They got off on the fifth floor. "We extended this floor for you. It seemed to be the best fit as we assume you'll have more international visits and may need to work with the international law offices."
Hermione stopped in front of a set of glass doors etched with the words, Department for Ministry Reconstruction, Director Hermione Jean Granger. It overwhelmed her for a moment.
Myrtle held the door for her. "After you."
"This is amazing, thank you. Thank the Minister for me," Hermione said, running her hand along a cherry wood desk.
Myrtle laughed. "This is for your administrative staff. This way."
Directly behind the marble wall was a sitting area and three wings of office space. Straight back down the middle hallway was another set of glass doors, a reception area, and then finally, one more set of doors to her personal office suite. It had floor to ceiling bookshelves around the entire room. A sliding ladder was made from the same cherry wood.
"The Minister suggested you would have a lot of books." Myrtle explained from behind an enormous desk. A small wireless intercom was the only object on the pristine surface. "Janet, Director Granger is here today and would like to get some work done. I wondered if you had a secretary who could assist?"
"Of course Myrtle. Anyone in particular?"
"Is Madison Tailor available?"
"She is. I'll send her straight up."
"You'll like Maddy," Myrtle told Hermione. "She's muggle-born and she asked me to tell her when you started hiring. Consider this a trial run."
"That's great. Thanks again, for everything."
"Hello?" a voice called out followed by a knock at the inner door. It opened and a woman who looked to be in her early twenties peaked her head in.
"Come in Maddy. Come meet Director Granger."
She was a tall witch with a dark complexion. She stuck out her hand, "Maddy Tailor. It's an honor to meet you." Her accent was clearly American.
"Madison, or should I call you Maddy?"
"Maddy is best."
"Well, you're in good hands, Director. Maddy can contact me if you need anything from the Minister's office. She can also requisition office supplies for you."
When the pair were alone, Hermione motioned to the sitting area. "You're from the States?"
"I am. My husband is British. He's a lawyer in the international law office. I met him when he was studying MACUSA law in New York."
"You went to Ilvermorny then?"
She sat straight with pride. "I did. Horned Serpent house."
"Myrtle said you were asking to work for me."
Her face turned a light shade of red. "My husband, Jonathan, saw what was happening last year and got us out and back to the states before the Ministry cracked down on muggle-borns. We barely made it out. When the war ended it was really important to Jon that we come back and help rebuild. I don't have an advanced degree yet. Working for you would be my best opportunity to really contribute to the cause."
"And you don't have a problem working for someone younger than you?"
"Mind! What? No. You're a hero. I meant when I said it was an honor to meet you."
Hermione smiled at her. "Okay then. Let's get to work. I need office supplies and some books. May I give you the titles and you could track them down?"
She had her quill ready. "If we don't have it in the library I'll submit a requisition and have it delivered today.
Sitting back Hermione made her requests, then shared her priorities with the eager witch. She even gave Maddy the task to write some first drafts of the key personnel job descriptions hoping she had access to templates from other departments to make it easier. When Hermione was alone, she took out her texting parchment and sent a note to Harry.
HG: "I have an office suite… actually an entire wing. It's on the fifth floor. Come by when you're ready to head home. "
HP: "You're own office suite! Sounds fancy. But do you have a staple obliterator? "
HG: "I'll add it to my list. I have plenty to keep me busy all day, so don't rush. "
Suddenly, the inner doors opened again and three stacks of books lined up at the nearest shelf and promptly put themselves away. It took all her self control not to jump and clap for joy.
~~/~~
On the car ride back to Godric's Hollow, Hermione chattered on about her office, the books Maddy was able to get for her, and her plans for positions. Harry let her fill the silence with her excitement. They both knew she was avoiding the prophesies. He let her continue to outline her priorities through the house, to the study. He caught Gerty's eye and wordlessly asked for a pot of tea. As she settled into a high back chair she was fond of, a tea service appeared with steaming pasties. Harry put a cup and a pasty in her hands.
"My biggest concern is finding qualified people willing to head up each initiative and report to someone so young," she finished, taking a bite and chewing absently.
Harry sat down next to her, lit the fire. They both stared into the flames for a few minutes.
"I think the reference to ior was a prophesy that already happened. In that house. I can't be sure since Jordan was certain it wasn't a complete record," Hermione finally broached the topic she knew he wanted to discuss. "One will become two... Ior will mark the end of the beginning, but beware the end is just beginning... The traveler will hold the secret to the dark lord's downfall."
"It doesn't sound entirely over. We don't know the secret to defeating this dark lord. It can't mean the horcruxes or it wouldn't have singled out just you."
"That Voldemort is gone isn't he."
"That clone is gone, yes. We have to assume Bellatrix is still trying to make a stable clone."
"It's just not possible. The Hyslop sisters said as much and they should know. I requested a text detailing the notes found about the development of the doubling charm after they die. I read it this afternoon. They never found a way to even attempt cloning a person."
He smiled. "You read the entire book this afternoon?"
"It wasn't very long. Just their notes, their theories, and current interpretation of the mechanism. Harry. It's just not possible that Bellatrix worked out how to do it on her own."
Harry sat straighter. "Maybe she didn't do it alone?"
"You said yourself she was in hiding. Trying to avoid detection."
"Now yeah. She has a time turner. What if she used the time to practice?"
"I don't know. That would have required quite a bit of planning in order to remain undetected. Even with the paradox."
"Sirius told me we shouldn't underestimate her. She may seem a bit—a lot—crazy because of her time in Azkaban, but he told me a few times she was a powerful witch. Never really cared about theory and such unless it suited her needs. If something did, then she was relentless."
Hermione rubbed her chest, remembering the force of her cruciatus curse. "We'll have Fiona and Gilford check the Hyslop sisters' timeline. Make sure there are no discrepancies."
"Two will become one again when the past and future collide... The traveler will decide which one will survive… each must die at the other's hand," Harry quoted, moving to the next prophecy.
"That sounds familiar doesn't it," she admitted. "Neither shall live while the other survives …"
"You said you thought you'd have to make a choice. Your life or the future you saw."
She shook her head. "The images were all jumbled. I think I saw myself die. It seemed connected to the changes to the future. It was overwhelming and didn't make much sense."
"Hermione."
The emotion in his voice caught her attention. She put her cup down and turned toward him. "This is why I didn't want to go down this path. We can't be sure about any of this. We can't know what's supposed to happen verses what we make happen due to all of this speculation."
"It's not speculation to understand you'd sacrifice yourself to save the ones you love. To save the future of our world. I have some experiential data that says you'll do so without blinking."
"I don't know what to say to that. Other than to tell you, I love you too much to make you endure my death. You've lost so much in your life, I don't want to be the one who brings you more pain. I don't have a death wish, and can't imagine a scenario where you're in my life and I throw my life away knowing the pain it will cause you. So don't leave my life," her voice cracked at the end of her pronouncement.
~~/~~
May 22, 1998 Friday
A memo flew into Hermione's inbox while she reviewed a stack of job descriptions. Glad for the diversion, she opened it. She was surprised to see it was a dictated message from Fernando routed through the department of international cooperation. It seemed Snape had made some progress on the memory potion but wanted to work with the Portuguese potioneer extraordinaire. They were inviting her to work with them that evening.
She scribbled a quick tentative acceptance at the bottom and noted the ink disappeared. Her response was recorded and on its way. Hermione flicked her wand at a silver bell on the edge of her desk. Within seconds Maddy was walking toward her, quill and parchment in hand. "Maddy, when is my last meeting over with today?"
"Noon. Your 3pm was rescheduled to next week."
"I might need to catch a portkey to Portugal. Okay if we wrap everything up early?"
"I can have everything that needs your attention organized before you leave. If it's alright with you, I'd like to use the afternoon to submit final drafts of your staffing requests."
"That's great Maddy, thanks."
"Can I arrange the portkey for you?"
"No, this isn't an official trip. Just a side project," Hermione admitted and handed her admin the stack of approved job posting. The top parchment was for her executive secretary with a stamp labeled "position filled".
Maddy stood and got halfway to the door before noticing the stamp. She spun, a huge grin on her face. "Really?"
"If you want it, the job is yours," Hermione said.
"Of course. Thank you. You won't regret it."
"I know I won't," she said and watched the excited witch bounce out the door. She took out her texting parchment.
HG: Change of plans. I might be going to Portugal this afternoon to meet about the memory potion
HP: Are you going to shack up with Snape?
HG: Very funny. I'll probably get a room in Porto. If you want to join me?
HP: I wish I could. This might be an all nighter here. I was about to text you myself
HG: We'll catch up Saturday night then?
HP: Text if you need me. Love you
HG: Love you too. Stay safe
That done, she looked at her inbox. It was filling up from the bottom. She sighed and picked up the top folder. "The red tape around here could use some reconstruction," she said to herself.
As it turned out the lunch meeting was also rescheduled and Hermione decided to take advantage of her new freedom allowing her to apparate again. She signed everything Maddy put in front of her and wished her a good weekend before heading to the atrium. One floo trip and one apparition later, and she was blessedly in front of Flourish and Blotts. Her justification was that she needed a potion's theory book. As she stepped up to the door she noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet slip around the corner and headed toward Knockturn Alley. She thought about ignoring it, but chose to follow it's trail.
Hermione rounded the corner carefully and was surprised to see the walkway was a dead-end between two buildings. There wasn't a Daily Prophet in sight. A brick wall blocked her path. Before she could turn, she thought she saw a ripple of movement. Stepping closer, she saw a subtle distortion. Suddenly, she came face to face with Bellatrix. Pulling out her wand, she started to cast a stupefy spell. Feeling a presence behind her, she spun on the spot. She was looking into the familiar dark brown eyes of Tom Riddle. The shock was all that was needed for Bellatrix to disarm Hermione from behind and grab her around her waist while Tom pressed his hands on both of her shoulders. Dragged through the brick, then she felt like she was falling. A portkey.