Summary: Azkabam escapees, politicians, dementors, divided loyalties, difficult questions and, soul mates? Things are getting complicated. Mentions of slash & 3soms. Violence and some language.
realdarkangel: I kind og hate that I can't work that in.
FEARMEfrancis: What is it with people making awesom sugestions just when I can't get them in the story?
Firehedgehog; -grins-
lordamnesia: That was kinda fun
mist shadow: I'm going with a bit of both
Misting Rain: You may be right, but spell check was not helpful on the subject.
aminegirl1994: Cheers.
Sakura Lisel; I think Percy suffers from manners an the urge to commit murder.
FallenHope-Angel; Er, Nevs gonna have to sort himself out. Goku+hormones tends to tie my brain in knots.
Holysinner5527: My Percy is pretty damn cool, I have to say.
Sandy Anderson: Good point. Din't his little brother get poisoned? I forget. I apoligise for saying you aren't insane, but you just seem pretty funtional to me. Sorry.
Chaos Babe: Trust me, you don't scare me nearly enough to be acused of Ginny Weaslyism.
Authors Note:: It has been almost a month. I am sorry. I am really sorry. My muse is playing silly buggars again.
Morafus Grea: Next chapter. Promise.
: Hey, person with no name. He is indeed, only without some of the creepy, and the obsessed shinigami. I kind of want obsessed shinigami...
The Edge of Disaster
Molly Weasley was a good, if somewhat over-protective, mother. She would accept nothing less for her children than their being securely married, happy and loved. She wanted what was best for them.
The howler that Penelope Clearwater had sent incinerated itself over the remains of the breakfast she had shared with her husband less than an hour before.
Molly sat down quickly. The girl couldn't mean- Not really-
Arthur found his wife still sitting there when he returned home in search of a cooked lunch.
Xxxxxxxxx
A curious mood had settled over Hogwarts. The closest comparison that Dumbledore could find was that of a bladed pendulum, perfectly balanced and ready to cut either way at the slightest touch. It wasn't quite right though.
People had checked the old year books. Facts had been verified. He had not been able to remove them in time.
There was a lot of anger, and a lot of shame. The Snakes were holding themselves with a certain injured dignity and the Gryffindors were somewhere between fury and self-disgust.
It could go either way.
The Slytherins could accept the tentative offers of friendship that the others houses were slowly extending and join the school properly. They could lash out and remain as the outcasts they had always been, or a fight could begin and make the divisions worse than even.
Much as it galled him to admit it Dumbledore could not actually affect the outcome of this scenario, not without tipping his hand too far, and possibly losing what remained of his reputation in doing so.
He did not want the Slytherins to integrate; it would disturb the balance of the school entirely too much. He could not stop them.
Or perhaps…
The escaped Death Eaters were heading towards Hogwarts. If they got in, if even one Slytherin took their side, the majority wanted to believe the worst after all…
Perhaps he was not as powerless as he had thought.
Xxxxxxxx
The Hogsmead weekend was always going to be awkward.
No-one was going on a date this time, not with the aurors watching them; the groups that went were tense, wary and watching for an attack.
Well, most of the groups anyway.
"Oh, it's so pretty!"
"This shade of blue would go wonderfully with your eyes."
"I was thinking ivory for the ritual robes…"
"What about lace?"
"Dressing Percy will be the real difficulty, he's so tall…"
"Are you having bridesmaids or will it be a druidic ritual?"
Even in the midsts of disaster wedding planning cannot be put on hold. Not where there are robes to be made.
There was only one robe makers in Hogsmead, and the proprietor had not expected to be overrun by a pack of noisy teenagers trying to find, or design, suitable wedding robes. The scene was chaos and Kingsley Shackelbolt, watching from the relative safety of a corner, was more than a little bit scared.
"It's kinda nuts."
Neville Longbottom, the grandson of the woman who had gotten the aurors posted to Hogwarts in the first place, the furious dementor-destroying source of gold-orange magic. He didn't look capable of doing what he had done, he didn't seem as dangerous as most of the other members of the Hit Squad.
Never judge on appearances.
"I don't get the whole wedding party thing." continued the boy vaguely. "What's the point of spending all that money on a robe that ya' only wear once?"
"It's a special day kid."
"Yeah, but it'd be a special day anyway, so why bother with the clothes?"
It was sort of hard to argue against that point. Hell, it was pretty hard to argue with the kid, period. He had a mix of common sense and obtuse-ness that was seriously off-putting.
"I think it's a woman thing." hazarded Kingsley absently. "They find this sort of thing important."
The boy gave him a disapproving look.
"Don't be sexist."
Kingsley blinked and then blinked again.
"Er, sorry?"
There were probably scarier things than a kid capable of mauling dementors and then still seeming innocent frowning at you, but none sprang to mind.
"Lady Bones is your boss. You should know better."
These kids were just not goddamn normal! What was with them!
"Hades take it do you want the bloody things or not?"
Zabini of the cannibalistic relations appeared to have reached the end of his tether. It was about bloody time someone did.
"It is a simple matter of economics, we cannot afford-"
"There are two lords and multiple rich heirs in the room! You are not picking up the bill! You will not touch the bill! You will not as much as look at the bill! The bill is a non-entity! Forget the bill!"
"…You couldn't have said all that earlier could you?" groused Wood. "Would have saved a lot of time."
"I apologise for overestimating your situational awareness." snipped Zambini, proving his Slytherin-ness once and for all. "I assumed you would pay some degree of attention."
"Dude. Harsh."
"Oh shut up Ronald. They thought they were paying for their own wedding. What kind of people pay for their own wedding anyway?"
There was a long moment of silence as the probably hypothetical question was considered by the majority.
"They pay for their own weddings." mused Greengrass, seemingly perplexed. "Weird."
"Is this a Pureblood thing?" asked Granger of the world as a whole. "Explanation, please."
"No, I am reasonably certain that this is a Dark sider thing." said Miss Bones, her expression one of mild confusion. "Who does pay for the wedding then?"
"Friends, extended family, though no-one closer than a cousin, business or political allies, battle kin, people looking to curry favour with you or your family and anyone who is just scared shitless of you." said Zabini promptly. "But only when you get married the first time, divorcees and the widowed pay for their own weddings."
It was completely unnecessary to ask how he knew that last part.
"I have a question." said Kingsley, slowly raising a hand. "What happens if people don't want you to pay for their wedding?"
"We would be extremely offended." stated Bulstrode, somehow sounding menacing despite her perfectly even tone.
"Well then, we might as well go all out." said Clearwater brightly. "Let's see how much we can spend."
The general chaos resumed immediately.
Kingsley sank back into his corner to ponder this newly revealed aspect of Dark-Pureblood life.
"It's not what you expected, was it?" asked Davis from where she was trying to vanish into a dress rack. "Do not think us to bright and shiny about such things Professor Shackelbolt, many of the old families still practice arranged marriages."
"Way to kill the happy vibes kid."
"One does ones best."
Xxxxxxx
The atmosphere in the Huffelpuff dorms had been interesting since the start of term. The initial anger and denial had turned to acceptance and embarrassment. There was also a certain sense of shame and confused pride.
Bellatrix Lestrange had been one of them. The most feared, most insane and most personally dangerous woman in Wizzarding Britain had been one of them. Voldemort's most loyal servant had been one of them, which should not have been as surprising as it was.
Well, no-one could say that the Huffelpuffs were just a load of duffers anymore. At least, no-one sane.
"Ladies, gentlemen and undetermined, something must be done!" The 7th year prefect had her audience captive from the first over-the-top shout. "A former member of our house has wronged, most grievously wronged a current member! This state of affairs in intolerable!"
There were murmurs of agreement from all over the room. Huffelpuffs stuck together, torturing one another's parents to insanity was just not on.
"I can see only one possible solution, but we must be in agreement on the matter!"
"Your proposal elder sister!"
"Let slip the dogs of war little brother! Lestrange must be neutralised!"
The debate continued well into the night.
Xxxxxxxx
Hogsmead village lay in the valley below them, undefended and fat and ripe for the burning.
Latter, once the others were here to join in the battle and share in the glory. Once they were strong once more.
"We could just-"
Josephine silenced the Norseman with a glare.
"No."
"Just one tiny raid?" asked Trelor pleadingly. "Just to make certain that we are still in practice?"
"And alert the entire Ministry? Don't be a bloody fool!"
"When do we go to Hogwarts?" snapped Carrow across Trelor's sulky mutterings. "When?"
"Information is the basis of any successful attack." said Luke, her beloved, calm, sensible Luke. "We must know more of the defences before we attempt to enter the castle, it would be foolish to assume the protections ha not altered since we attended. What's more we must know our targets, and have a safe place to interrogate them."
Bellatrix laughed lightly, and the really disturbing thing was that she had a pleasant laugh when she wasn't cackling.
"A croaked house upon a croaked hill where in a croaked minded wolf once howled away his moons."
Why did the woman persist in talking in riddles and pure nonsense? The croaked house was easily enough deciphered, but what was this about a wolf?
"The shrieking shake could hardly be called secure."
"Warded well enough to keep the wolf contained is warded well enough to hide for a few hours. Long enough to suffer and break."
Well they did have the Dark Lords best torturer with them after all. Make use of her.
"Recognisance first."
It was unnerving that Bellatrix did not protest. It was slightly more unnerving that she smiled, stepped away and started singing to herself.
"Sing a song of six pence, not a penny less/ Four and twenty blackbirds make a lot of mess…"
That was not the nursery rhyme that she remembered, but when you were as insane as Bellatrix it probably mattered little if you made up new ones.
It was time to move on.
Xxxxxxxxx
There was something a little bit hypnotic about watching Indigo design wards. Not quite as fascinating as watching Harry make potions, but a close second.
The fact that he was lying on the sofa with one foot in the small of his own back was also interesting, but considerably less important in Hermione's eyes.
Another rune, Nordic by the look of it but not one that she could name, joined the design and then Indigo when still, propped up on one elbow and tapping the fine paint brush absently against his cheek.
"You are going to get ink all over your face." commented Hermione idly.
"Meh. It wouldn't be the first time."
"Or even the twelfth time." said Tracy, laughing lightly at her blond friend, who waved the brush at her.
"Shush you."
Hermione repressed the urge to twitch at the friendly exchange. Really, this nonsense should have stopped by now. She had been on a single timeline for months now. The effects should have faded.
"What are you working on? It doesn't look like any of the assignments."
"It's not. I'm trying to work out a way to turn ambient magic into a viable substitute for electricity."
"To what purpose?"
"Working computers, television and I-pods. And Google of course. We need Google."
"My, what glorious aims you have. And you would also need a way to transmit and receive signals for the T.V and the internet to work."
"Magic doesn't scramble signals Mia." said Tracy gently. "Just electricity. For some reason it doesn't flow within fields of high magical concentration."
"Oh, and I had thought that the wizzarding world had jumped of the technology bandwagon in the Victorian era just to be difficult."
"No darling, we just got distracted by the corsetry."
Tracy's deadpan statement startled a laugh from Hermione, and the smile that spread across her friends face in response was radiant. Beautiful.
Hermione gave herself a mental smack.
"Corsetry?"
"Never before had we seen such an inspired use of dragon's bone. It was most impressive, and still is."
"Both of my grandmothers have corsets." said Indigo mildly. "And normally I wouldn't care, but Mel wants me to cross dress and they look painful."
"Mel?"
"Melody Black."
"Melosanyerasi di Lucifer." Indigo shrugged at Hermione's incredulous stare. "They like long names where she's from. It's a thing."
"Normally I would enquire about the Lucifer part, but I sense that I don't really want to know. Can electricity be generated within a magical field?"
"No, generators just don't work for some reason."
"In-ter-es-ting." Hermione frowned into space. "Perhaps a disruption of the magnetic field? But that would not explain the blocked electron flow within the wires. Perhaps a free flowing positive/negative charge in the air generated by the interaction of magic and water vapour? It could disperse the current…"
The two purebloods stared at her as though she had grown an extra head.
"You have absolutely no idea what I just said, do you?"
"Not a clue." said Tracy. "Tell us more."
"Well, water in the liquid form is actually a very mild acid as there is partial disassociation into H+ and OH- and that can carry and electrical charge. It the magic were to create such molecules in the air…"
Their fascinated expressions were pleasing for some reason. Maybe this was why people taught?
Xxxxxxxxxx
"'sup man?"
"Eek!"
Ron paused, and gave Harry an incredulous look.
"Again? Harry you seriously need to pay more attention to your surroundings. I should not be able to sneak up on you, like, even. It ain't natural."
"You may have a point." Harry smiled ruefully. "It is starting to look alarmingly like a habit."
"No kidding." drawled Ron, settling against the railing beside his friend. "So come on, what's up? You ain't normally this spaced."
"I was talking to Luna earlier."
"That's a good reason to feel spaced. What did our confusing seer girl have to say?"
"Little that was definite." Harry rubbed his forehead and waved Ron closer, placing the Marauders map between them. "The Death Eaters are coming here, and Luna implied that they would enter together but not where they would enter. There are simply too many passages, and probably some more that we don't know about, there just aren't enough people to cover them all adequately."
Ron huffed and glowered at the map.
"Can we get the aurors to help?"
"My assumption was that we would. We are, after all, still children and somewhat lacking in weaponry and experience of magical battles."
Ron paused, and an expression of vague disgust spread across his face.
"Harry, please tell me we are not getting other people to fight our battles for us."
"We are making people do their jobs and teaching them a valuable lesson about putting the fate of the world in the hands of children in the process. It is not our duty to clear up their messes."
"We've done it before."
"Yes, and that, in hindsight, was unwise. It set a precedence that now works against us."
"Dude, we can handle-"
"Do you consider the Hit Squad battle ready Ronald?"
"Er…" Ron wilted slightly under the stare. "No."
"Then stop arguing with me." Harry returned his attention to the map. "What idiot made all these thrice damned passages?"
"A very, very board one." Ron did his best to sound solemn. "Probably a Gryffindor. Cheer up, we don't know when they're coming, it could be after the end of term and not our problem."
Harry gave him a look.
"Happy thoughts man! Try out optimism once in a while!"
The look became a Look and gained the unspoken suggestion that Ron had gone potty while Harry wasn't paying attention and really that was no way to behave.
"Oh fine. Gloomy bastard."
"I prefer realist. Our lives simply do not work like that."
Ron huffed, and then looked thoughtful for a moment.
"No Ronald, you may not petition the goddess to swing things in our favour. Se has no influence on our karma and would probably refuse anyway."
"Mean… Does it bother you that we just had a conversation based mostly on body language?"
Harry shrugged helplessly. Ron nodded.
"Yeah, it was always gonna hap- Goddamn it! Not cool!"
"What did I say?"
Next time: Battle