Shield Chapter 1, a harry potter fanfic

Summary of the story so far: Percival who had been captured and left to die by Grindlewald is offered the chance at a second life if he agrees to be the Sword and Shield for Death's favoured wizard Harry Potter. He agrees. Throughout their fifth year at Hogwarts they start collect the Horcruxes and are made aware that Harry scar contains a piece of Tom Riddle soul. Hermione falls more deeply under the sway of an evil Albus Dumbledore. At the end of the year Hermione is tricked by Delores Umbridge (on the verge of becoming a Death Eater) into getting Harry into the Department of Mysteries so that the 1) Tom Riddle can get the prophecy and 2) Harry can be captured. However, Percival and Ron raise the alarm, ensuring that some members of the Order of the Phoenix sweep in to rescue them. While Percival is fighting to capture Tom Riddle so that a ritual can be conducted to send all of his soul to the afterlife, Hermione kills him and is declared The-Girl-Who-Conquered.

The mission had been a disaster.

A very battered and bruised group popped into existence in the Foyer of Malfoy Manor. Not one of the five men was uninjured. Only those who had appropriate approval had been able to apparate from the Ministry so by necessity they had left the others behind. Except in the case of Nott Senior who had the appropriate clearance but had taken a cutting curse to the face, and that was after Potter had broken his nose with an elbow to the face. Despite the mask, there was every chance the man would still lose his eye. The ministry employee had not made it out of the Hall of Prophecy, because he had not had the focus to cast a spell, let alone apparate without splinching. It was rather demoralising to realise how much damage had been inflicted on eleven of the Dark Lords best by two students who had literally just finished sitting their OWLs.

Rookwood sneered as he surveyed his fellows, "Of all the incompetent…"

"Oh, do shut up!" Lucius Malfoy gasped pressing a hand to the wound on his arm to stop his blood from dripping onto the floor. He did not need Narcissa yelling at him on top of everything. Lucius wished he was as good with healing spells as his wife was, though it was probably best she was currently staying at their holiday home in France. She would not be pleased by the blood on the floor, having been against the mission in the first place. By necessity he called an Elf and requested healing potions for them all. The various vials were consumed with relief. The blasted boy had surprised them with his willingness to use more than simple stunning and disarming spells. The girl not so much as she had already hit Draco in their third year.

The fire in the hearth burned green causing all the men to go on the defensive, turning quickly with wands drawn, despite knowing full well that the wards would not allow just anyone to enter the manor.

Bellatrix Black spun out of the fireplace, falling with uncharacteristic gracelessness in a heap on the floor.

"Please! I did not know, Master," she began begging incoherently.

"What has happened?" the Malfoy demanded.

"The prophecy broke," she whimpered. "Smashed, smashed, smashed. Shattered glass. Pretty colours, on the floor. Mist in the air. Smashed!" Then she turned wide brown eyes on her Brother-in-Law and said viciously, "Potter's Mudblood bitch Avada'ed the Dark Lord, but he will return to kill them all!" The last came out as an almost ultrasonic squeal, before being followed by a peel of hysterical laughter, which ended as her voice dropped back into its normal range and she began ranting about all the things she was going to do when she caught the girl, none of them pleasant.

"The question is what we do now?" mused Lord Malfoy, turning his back on Bellatrix as he paced the room, her mind too fractured for her to be of any use in the coming conversation.

This situation was in no way similar to the end of the previous conflict. There would be no denying the Dark Lord and going about their lives pretending that they had been outstanding citizens. They now knew that their Lord could be returned to life and he would expect them to do it. The consequences of not seeking him out this time would be exponentially worse than they were a year ago. The question was how? Surely if that idiot Pettigrew had managed it the last time, it should not be too much trouble, should it? And there would certainly be benefits to it appearing that the Dark Lord had been killed at the Ministry, they would not expect him to be resurrected a second time.

With a gust of cold wind, a cloud of black miasma coalesced in the centre of the room. How it had been drawn to them they did not know but there was no doubt that it was the remaining manifestation of their Lord. With goosebumps pimpling their skin each man dropped immediately to their knees; Bellatrix grovelled on the floor.

"My Lord," Rookwood addressed the cloud. "Let me assure you we will not make the same mistakes as last time. I assume the Rat has a copy of the ritual to give you a body?" There was a sense of dissatisfaction bordering on anger. "Perhaps a more comprehensive ritual might be discovered in the Department of Mysteries." This was received more positively.

No longer willing to let someone else act as spokesperson Lucius Malfoy suggested, "Perhaps we can find a suitable subject for possession while Augustus is locating a ritual?"

The cloud circled the room, as if judging their worthiness, not even pausing as it passed over Bellatrix, despite her excited bouncing and squealing 'pick me, pick me'. It eventually settled by the door. A hiss alerted the occupants as to who was waiting on the other side, apparently drawn by her companion's presence. Once the door was opened Nagini slithered into the room, a smaller python at her side. The cloud hovered over them for a moment before with a dark whirling tornado it sank into the smaller snake.

"Well…." the Lord Malfoy swallowed uncomfortably. "Let us call for Pettigrew."

-o0o-

Albus' mind turned furiously, so many things had happened in the space of a few hours. He had of course been aware that the examiner who had been introduced as Malfada Hopkirk was none other than Delores Umbridge under the influence of Polyjuice potion and that she was there to enact some plan on Voldemort's behalf. He had even expected that she would use his own protege in whatever 'cunning' scheme she had concocted. However, he had not predicted how it would all turn out. He had hoped that Hermione would have been able to at least tell that the person giving her instructions was not himself and would then bring the plot to him so he could turn it to his advantage. She had not, which was rather disappointing. The ploy that Hermione had come up with to get the boy to the Ministry was… not at all ingenious, though functional. He had only gone to the Ministry himself because he could not allow his pawn to die this early in the game. Oh no the public outcry would have been too great; the boy would have been martyred. Besides swooping in to save the day meant he was cast once again into the role of rescuing hero, which was always beneficial, especially when it came to debasing the conquering hero.

Albus had rather hoped he would be able to, after coming to Harry's rescue and unfortunately not being able to save Mr Graves who would indubitably also be there, use the knowledge of the Prophecy to his advantage in manipulating the boy. That avenue was not entirely cut off, with the prophecy destroyed he was the only one aware of its contents. Just the boy had not seemed to be interested in it at all. From the little Hermione had been able to tell him, Harry had used it as a bargaining piece and nothing more. Maybe he could get Severus to plant a few false visions in their next Occlumency lesson. Yes, he could get Severus to continue them over the holidays.

He shook his head slightly as he surveyed the destroyed fountain, it was a metaphor for the way that Hermione had damaged her relationship with the boy. Bringing him here against his will! No, that bit was not as well thought out as he had come to expect. It would make Harry even harder to engage. Perhaps he needed to find another protege … no, managing one at a time was enough. However, there was that old alchemical potion… A liquid Imperius, giving control of the drinker's mind over to the brewer. Some of the old elixirs were worth the time in studying, being old enough to not be on the Ministries prohibited substances lists, having long been replaced by spells. The Flamel library had been full of texts and the old fool had not thought to secure any of them. Quite a number had ended up in his personal library.

Maybe he could turn this all to his advantage. Hermione would certainly have a large body of public support if the Prophet could be convinced to publish his version of events as soon as possible. He would have to speak with Barnabus Cuffe. Rufus Srimgeour would be more difficult to manage. They had never seen exactly eye to eye, but he had worked with harder headed Ministers before. It was all part of the challenge. Having seen Voldemort hit with the Killing curse would certainly aid things. Though there would be those from the Department of Mysteries and perhaps the DMLE (Amelia Bones could be rather intelligent at times) who would believe that a lack of body was an indicator that the wraith had merely moved on and that the wizard was not truly dead. Though they would be quite small in number and so should be easily managed, ridiculed or ignored.

Then there was the fact that Voldemort was not actually dead … yet. He needed to think through how this would affect his plans. He observed the thought from all sides, finding it good. Later on, in a year or so he could find evidence that Voldemort was not as deceased as he seemed. If he could work it right he just might be able to use all of this to extend his vision just a little bit more. Eventually he would live long enough for Harry to be turned into the next Dark Lord. Then it would only be a short jump to convert that belief into it having been caused by the muggles. They really did need to be brought to heel. Just as he had told Gellert all those years ago, it was all for the Greater Good, and who else was intelligent enough to guide the Wizarding world into the new age? He had nearly succeeded with Gellert but, really there could only be one person with the ultimate power. Albus Dumbledore did not share power.

After a little deliberation, Albus decided he could still follow through with the plans he had for the summer regardless. Voldemort's death was merely a complication. The whole situation was terribly inconvenient, Hermione would have to be punished for it. It would be so much harder this time with Harry being supported by Sirius and Seraphina Picquery, at least that ruddy werewolf was out of the way. He had not heard anything from the wolf he had coerced so it could be assumed that Remus had met his demise, just as he had told the boy.

Sharp eyes watched as Harry and Percival disappeared from the Ministry foyer without so much as a 'by your leave'. They really ought to show more respect but perhaps it was for the best. Now he would have exclusive access to giving a statement to the Daily Prophet and swaying the Ministry. The photographs taken would only include himself and Hermione, which would leave a strong image in the public eye. Yes, he could work with this. Producing a handkerchief, he waved his wand to turn it into a portkey, which he passed to his protégé. Conveying in the action how dissatisfied he was with her.

Hermione was busy smiling genially at the nice cameraman and did not notice the look her mentor gave as she took the 'kerchief from his hand. They posed for a moment in the act of passing the portkey to allow the photographer from the Daily Prophet to take another photo, and then Hermione disappeared in a whirl. Re-appearing a moment later in the Headmaster's office where she was to wait patiently for Dumbledore to arrive.

Hermione was beside herself with happiness. She had done it! Not Harry nor Percival Graves, no she! Hermione Jean Granger had risen above them all and she had Albus Dumbledore to thank for it. She sat in the chintz chair across from his desk, crossing her feet at the ankles, a smile on her face, trying her best not to wiggle in excitement as the portraits all looked down on her sternly. Harry would have to listen to her now, and Ron … Ron would be so stunned that he would finally overcome his emotional constipation and ask her out on a date! She might not give him an answer straight away now, after how long he had made her wait. Yes, she would … keep him hanging … as it were, until finally when she was sure that he had learnt his lesson she would graciously acquiesce to his request. It did not matter that he came from a poor family really, as surely the fame that she achieved through this one act would provide them with an income for the rest of their lives. Her name would become synonymous with advances in spell design, research and ... enchanting, yes! Her mind was filled with the accolades she would receive.

Ha, some Dark Lord he was, able to be beaten in a duel by a mere teenager. Thinking back, she still could not believe that Graves had not gone for the kill shot. He clearly had Voldemort pinned down and his guardian had surely taught him some useful spells. He must have been trying to impress. She had seen Harry, tucked out of the way being protected by one of the statues from the Fountain of Magical Brethren, making her wonder what spell had been used to hold him there, the boy dodged remarkably well after all, and if he had not been involved in the fight up until then she was not the Boy-Who-Lived's best female friend. That was probably it, both the boys must have been working to bring Voldemort to the point of becoming tangled. Yes, Harry would have fought him and kept him distracted before, unsurprisingly, being outclassed and trapped behind the statue. Graves must have come in at the last moment, he had left the Department of Mysteries after Harry, and cast the rope spell. Internally she scoffed, surely it was just some jumped up version of Incarcerous, maybe an Incarcerous Maxima? Yes probably. Certainly a spell achievable by a strong-ish, and she was being generous saying that, fifth year. Even that, Voldemort had fought. No, it had taken something … someone special … someone trained to know just when one must step in and shoulder a sterner responsibility to actually end the confrontation. Neither of those boys would ever be able to do what she had done. She had killed the Dark Lord!

Lost in her musings Hermione did not notice when the Headmaster silently appeared in the room.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, as he took in her excited fidgeting at a glance. Currently the child was basking in her success, if he punished her now, she might believe that she could continue on without him, that had been the mistake he made with his last student. Disciplining them on the heels of what they believed to have been their success. Filled with excitement and buoyed by a onetime triumph, his last protege had decided to challenge Albus himself. In fact, Albus had initially decided to use that formula as his template for Harry, until he had learned of Hermione and adapted his plans. Moving to sit at his desk, he decided he would put her punishment off until later. If he left it, there was more chance she would take the lesson on board. In fact with the right encouragement, she might even figure out for herself what she had done wrong and his forgiveness would cleave her to him even more. He cleared his throat to gain her attention.

The girl emitted a squeak of surprise as she jumped. "Sorry, sir, I was lost in thought."

"As well you might be," he gave her a small smile. "Are you aware of what you have done?"

"I…I killed the Dark Lord," she said happily.

"Yes … and then also at the same time … no, Miss Granger," the Headmaster said cryptically, to ease her away from her internal celebration.

"No … Professor? I don't understand," Hermione confessed in confusion. "I hit him with the Killing curse, how can he not be dead?"

"Ah, that is the question is it not?" Dumbledore prevaricated. "Lord Voldemort," he said gravely pausing for Hermione's little gasp, a little surprised when it did not eventuate, "has gone further than any other along the path to achieving immortality. I believe he has secured at least one device which he can use to return …"

"The diary …" Hermione whispered. Dumbledore was delighted at her leap of intuition, it demonstrated perfectly why she had been chosen.

"Yes indeed, like the diary. A device into which he has placed a part of his soul."

"Oh!"

"Yes, indeed Miss … Hermione," his voice softened. "So, you see our conundrum, when … not if, but when he is invariably resurrected again, you will be a prime target."

"I will fight him again," she said determinedly. 'Hermione the Defender of Witches and Wizards everywhere' had a nice ring to it. Albus Dumbledore did not need to use Legilimency to see what she was thinking, she was practically broadcasting it aloud.

"Possibly so, though the prophecy does say that Harry is the one who will defeat him in the end. Unfortunately, it doesn't not give any indication that you might be its subject."

"You … you know what the prophecy said?"

"But of course, it was made to me," the Headmaster admitted casually. He raised his wand to his ear and pulled forth a silvery strand. Hermione excitedly got to her feet to move closer to the desk. It was always an honour to be allowed to see one of the Headmaster's memories.

Once the Pensieve had been summoned and came to rest on the desk, Dumbledore dropped the strand into the basin. He lent back and watched his memory swirl and drift inside the Pensieve for a moment, like a silver strand of spagetti in a bubbling pot of steam. Then, with a sigh, he raised his wand and prodded the silvery substance with its tip.

A figure rose out of it, draped in shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size behind her glasses, and she revolved slowly, her feet in the basin. But when Sybil Trelawney spoke, it was not in her usual ethereal, mystic voice, but in the harsh, hoarse tones Harry had described at the end of his Divination exam in third year.

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…..born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies….and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies'

The slowly revolving Professor Trelawney sank back into the silver mass and vanished.

The silence within the office was absolute. Neither Dumbledore nor Hermione nor any of the portraits made a sound. Even Fawkes had fallen silent.

"But Professor," Hermione said importantly, "I have always thought that Divination was a rather woolly subject. How do we know that this was a real prophecy?" He internally sighed, there was the beginnings of arrogance, it was something he would need to keep his eye on.

"Ah, this is the first of the true prophecies made by Sybil. There are special magical devices in the Department of Mysteries that detect a certain … we shall call it" Dumbledore waved his fingers mysteriously, "magical resonance when a prophecy is made. They copy the resonance, using it to create the orbs that you saw in the Department of Mysteries. The resonance is only ever seen in true prophecies."

"Oh."

Dumbledore scooped the memory back out of the Pensieve, tipped his head to the side and dripped it into his ear. Pulling on his earlobe to jostle it back into the right place. He then sent the Penseive back to its stand. Hermione noticed this was not the one the Headmaster had previously and could not help pointing it out.

"Sir, your Penseive is different!" now that she thought about it the basin had not been engraved as ornately as the last either. In fact, this one was rather plain with simple runes carved around the edges. It looked rather utilitarian. She remembered coming into the office when the Headmaster had been discussing his missing Penseive with Professor Snape, but she had assumed it had been found.

"Hmm, yes the last one was in need of repair," he lied somewhat disgruntled. "This is much older, in fact it is an old Dumbledore family heirloom." He was still rather put out by the other one going missing, he had punished the Elves most severely for being so careless. Not a one could tell him what had happened to it, even when he had ordered them to with all the power of being their master. Those particular elves no longer attended the Headmaster's Tower. The Potter Penseive had been so much more impressive and ornate. The runic work was magnificent, and it had been warded to ensure that it was not damaged. The Dumbledore one was functional but did not convey the same sense of status. Well when he said 'Dumbledore'…

"I feel that it might be best if I arrange for you and Harry to have some private lessons with me this year," Dumbledore said, turning his twinkling gaze on the bushy-haired girl. As her face lit up, he knew he had her right where he wanted her, despite her growing egotism.

-o0o-

Severus rather awkwardly removed his arms from Harry, though the boy did not let go. Black eyes turned to look with some consternation at Sirius, who grinned back at him unhelpfully.

"There is something that I feel I must confess at this juncture, Harry," the Potions Master said sombrely.

"Professor?" Harry cocked his head to the side, taking a step backwards and finally letting go of his Professor.

Snape took the few steps required to cross to the table and pulled out a chair, Harry sat between Severus and Sirius.

"Your mother and I had a falling out at the end of our fifth year. She'd had some concerns about the friends I had made in Slytherin for some time. She was not wrong to have those concerns." Severus studiously ignored the faces that Sirius was pulling. "Once she was no longer in my life, I became even more bitter and angry. Riddle offered me all the things that I thought that I wanted. Support, a family, recognition for my achievements and revenge. Revenge on my father who was much like your Uncle. Revenge on Remus for taking my only friend away from me, at that point she was not friends with your father or Sirius. I joined him willingly, Harry," the black eyes he turned on Harry were misty.

"We didn't help," Sirius added quietly. "We were … we were bullies, that really is the only way of describing us. We did nothing to stop you being pushed that way. I am sorry I did not see it at the time."

"I am still responsible for my own decisions. I did not kill or maim. Nor did I participate in the Muggle baitings. I made potions, bad ones," Severus swallowed. "There came a night, where he asked me to keep an eye on Dumbledore. I followed the Headmaster to his brother's pub. There he was interviewing the latest candidate for Divination Professor. I crept up the stairs and overheard a little of the events within before I was discovered and evicted from the establishment by Aberforth."

"What did you overhear?"

"I overheard part of the prophecy. I understand that the recording orb was destroyed, but I still remember the part that I heard and can tell it to you if you wish."

"Oh," Harry fidgeted. "It didn't actually break." His lips twisted in an almost suppressed smirk, his fingers twisting around his wand holster.

Percival turned to Harry, "But you told Bellatrix …"

"Yeah, I kinda lied," Harry shrugged.

"But Riddle said he saw, when he …"

Harry grinned fully now and tapped his temple with his index finger, "The alarms worked, and I was able to show Riddle the memory I wanted him to see. When Hermione and I were in that big room with all the Prophecy orbs," he paused.

"The Hall of Prophecy," Sirius supplied.

"Well, some of the orbs got smashed and one was a lady giving a prophecy. It was jumbled with another one, but there was enough there that when he tried to bust in I just threw that memory at him along with some others. I had the memory of the actual orb on the shelf, the spell hitting that same shelf, the orbs falling and smashing on the floor and this misty lady saying bits of her prophecy overlaid by the other destroyed prophecies."

"Well done Harry," Sirius beamed

"It's not that impor …"

"Harry, it does not matter how much importance we place or do not place on the prophecy. What is important is that you fooled a direct Legilimency attack by Riddle," Sirius said proudly.

"Indeed, that is most impressive Harry," Severus agreed.

'How about we hear the prophecy?" Percival asked.

"Alright," Harry removed the orb from his holster. "Err, how do we watch it?"

"Well, it depends if you wish to keep the orb or not. If you do, then we can have Dobby get the Potter family Pensieve for you to watch it in. If not, then we can just smash it on the table and …."

Sirius had not even finished speaking before Harry had placed the orb on tabletop and tapped it hard with a teaspoon as if he were cracking the shell of a boiled egg. The side split apart and fell slowly to the table releasing the vision within.

The figure of Professor Trelawney faded away.

"Well, that is rather ambiguous," Severus huffed.

"I'll send a copy of it to Seraphina to have the International Masters of Curios (IMC) look into it," Percival said.

"Have them look into the rituals as well. Surely someone else will have dealt with horcrux issues before. We cannot be the only people in history to have had this problem," Sirius said.

"Everything turn out alright?" Remus asked making his way into the kitchen.

"It did thanks to Severus," Harry muttered, turning his suppressed anger on his godfather, who was sitting by his side, "Stupid, mutt! Making stupid jokes when he should have been paying attention!" Whack, whack, whack. Harry punched Sirius in the chest to emphasise each point. "What if you had gone through that veil? Where does that even go? Do you know?"

"Veil?" Remus asked curiously above the sounds of Sirius being punched in the chest.

"In the Department of Mysteries," Severus said amusedly, because Sirius was otherwise occupied.

"Oh, the Veil of the Dead." Remus automatically went into teacher mode. "It is said to be the ultimate judge. Whom so ever passes its curtains, enters the Meadows of Asphodel from which, depending on how they are judged, they pass into the Elysian Fields, the Halls of the Dead or everlasting Damnation."

Harry hit Sirius one more time for good luck, "After all the shit you pulled at school, you would be lucky to spend eternity in the Halls of the Dead! I would never have seen you again."

"Hey," Sirius said softly, reaching his arms out to encompass his son. "I'm right here. You are right, I got too cocky. I had plenty of opportunities to incapacitate her and I didn't take them. But I am here, I'm alright."

"Thanks to Severus," Harry sniffled into Sirius' chest.

"Yes, thanks to Severus. But I'm just not sure if he would cope right now if I gave him a hug a well," he added in a theatrical whisper.

Harry chuckled, "Never again old man."

"No. Harry, every time you are in danger, I will come. And if I lose my life, saving yours, that is on me, not you and it would be absolutely one hundred percent worth it." The smaller arms pulled him tight against the boy once more as a face pressed hard against his shoulder.

"As thrilling as watching this display of emotion is, I had best return to the school."

"Be careful Severus," Sirius said quietly. "Remember if it becomes too much…"

"I will be fine mutt," was the dour reply before the man stepped into the floo.

-o0o-

"Ah Severus," Dumbledore walked into the Potions Master's lab without knocking. "I was wondering if any of your associates have contacted you after the events at the Ministry."

"No. As you are well aware, I was de-masked in the Department of Mysteries and so will be persona non-grata amongst the Death Eaters. As such I am not expecting to be contacted."

"Your actions were not well thought out my boy," the old man chided. Albus was internally fuming, what use was a spy who could no longer infiltrate the enemy?

"I would disagree. How do you think the boy would have responded if another person close to him had died? After the behaviour displayed by the passing of the wolf, it is safe to say that he would have shut down in grief. You have stated your belief that the boy is important in this war, is it not better that he is functioning?"

"Ah, this war that is no more," Dumbledore smiled. "Your Dark Lord died after all."

Snape just fixed him with his patented glare, rolled up his sleeve and displayed the faded, but still clearly visible Dark Mark.

"Whether or not he lives on is not open for debate the only question is how quickly he will return this time."

"Which is why I must ask you to make contact with your old associates again. We need a man on the inside," to his credit Albus did sound sorry to have to ask.

"No Headmaster. I cannot take on this role anymore. They know!"

"Then you must be convincing," there was that twinkle, "tell them that you had to save Sirius to maintain your cover with me."

"No, Dumbledore," Severus remained firm. "Saving Sirius Black is not something the Dark Lord would ever condone. The Gods only know how many times he turned him down in the past. He would have wanted me to try and fail. Bellatrix will never forgive it once she finds out. She above all others holds the Dark Lord's ear and had already expressed her doubt in my loyalties. My life would be forfeit the moment I showed my face. There will be enough trouble once the children come back next year, you can be guaranteed that some of them will make an attempt to kill me, pressured by parents hoping to improve their standing with the Dark Lord."

"Severus think of Lily," Dumbledore wheedled. "The information you might learn could be valuable in keeping her son alive. You … more than anyone else, know that's what she would have wanted. You made a vow Severus."

"I made a vow to help protect her son. A vow that I cannot uphold if I become deceased. A vow, need I remind you, that you have already bought to the perilously close to the point of collapse by housing him with that shrew!" Severus hissed, angry at Dumbledore's attempted manipulation.

"I beg your pardon Severus," the Headmaster said indignantly. "You know full well that he was placed where he was safest."

"Safest? Shoved in a cupboard under the stairs, starved and who knows what else!"

The bearded man clucked, if Severus had not been so angry, he might have actually laughed in disbelief at what the man was going to try. "Surely you do not believe those lies, my boy. You have seen for yourself how very like his father the boy is. I would have never allowed Harry to stay in a home where he was treated so poorly."

"Just as you never allowed me to stay in house where I was beaten, Albus," Severus said pointedly.

"Ah, and for that I am most sorry," Dumbledore tutted again. "But my hands were tied you see. Your mother …"

"Was only alive until the end of my fourth year. At which point I should have been moved into my Grandfather's care as my only magical relative."

"Hmm," Dumbledore nodded sagely. "However, I was unable to get the paperwork passed through the Wizengamot quickly enough …"

"You would have needed to present it at all Dumbledore. Do not think that I am unaware that you failed to do so!"

"Now Severus, I am a very busy …"

"At the time, you were only a sitting member on the Wizengamot and Headmaster."

"Still, I had no evidence that there was anything untoward was happening at home."

"You mean the bruises and broken bones I turned up with each year were not enough?! I rather suspect you intervened. I know that the Evans' made reports to the police a number of times. Yet whenever they went in to follow things up, the reports had mysteriously disappeared and the officers they had talked to remembered nothing, not even their faces."

"As I said there was no evidence and I do not think I like what you are implying Severus," Dumbledore said with clipped words. "You would do well to remember just who was responsible for your current freedom."

"And when will I stop paying for it?" Severus replied.

"When I believe you have earned it!" the reply was snapped fast and combined with enough magic to be physical, forcing Severus to step backwards.

"It may surprise you, but I did not actually participate in any of the raids," said Severus as calmly as he could.

"But you created potions that allowed people to be injured, manipulated and taken advantage of."

"Prove it!" Severus hissed.

Albus Dumbledore smirked as though Severus had just fallen into his trap, "I don't have to. My word is enough, especially in light of current events."

The anger curdled like sour milk in his stomach. Suddenly Severus doubted his decision to return, perhaps he should have stayed at Grimmauld place after all. He had been acting like a bloody Gryffindor, but who else would be there to protect those Slytherins who did not want to support Riddle? Who else would be there to keep an eye on Harry? The Gods knew that trouble always found the boy.

"It will take a while for them to regroup and then to locate an appropriate ritual to reconstitute Voldemort once more. I doubt he was happy with the results last time. In the meantime, I want you to continue with Harry's Occlumency lessons. I will leave some memories to assist with the process," Dumbledore did not even try to mask the order as anything else.

Severus paused on the point of walking out, there had to be a catch, but he could not see it. "Fine Albus." At least it gave him an excuse to leave the school and head to Grimmauld place. From there his memories could be sent to the ICW. After all a Slytherin always had a backup plan.

-o0o-

They were back in the dank wreck of house, on the outskirts of the most Muggle town there ever was. Pathetic. Pettigrew had been, while not a wealth of information, still a valuable source of it. Without access to a regular supply of fresh Unicorn blood, something none of the Death Eaters were willing to harvest (Bellatrix had been unable to get anywhere near the creatures), to allow for possession like Quirrell had agreed to, Riddle's only option was to continue possessing a variety of small creatures. Inevitably the snakes that Nagini could find and lead into Malfoy Manor. Being relatively small and fragile, their bodies did not hold up to the strain long. They would only live a week or two and did not allow any direct communication between the Dark Lord and his followers. A situation which he had made clear, by biting people repetitively, was untenable. The next option was a ritualistic possession of a human child, as he had done when he had first been found by Pettigrew. Which would give them enough time to locate another ritual. That was the reason they were back in the old Riddle Manor. They needed to procure an appropriate body. Malfoy glanced over at Rookwood, a tight smile on his lips, it felt as though nothing had changed since the height of the Dark Lords reign. After all what was this but a spot of muggle-baiting.

-o0o-

Dear Harry,

Harry unfolded the message from Ron that had arrived with Hedwig that morning, with a guilty sigh. He really should have sent a message as soon as they got back to safety.

Saw Snape last night, he was being his usual batty self, so we have assumed that you are at the very least alive and hidden away with Sirius and Percival. McGonagall appeared in the Common Room and asked Fay to bring out Hermione's trunk as she apparently is in the Hospital wing and might not get released before the Holidays. Not sure what happened there, but there are a number of people (Fred, George and Neville) who wish to have words with her about absconding with our best mate. Still that will wait.

Talking of Fred and George. Well you know how they were planning to go out with a bang, they did it. It was magnificent. Apparently, they had been working on a new range of fireworks to compete with Filibusters. They look small to begin with but then they didn't disappear for absolutely ages and if anyone tried to vanish them, they multiplied and grew. Some turned into showers of stars, there was a dragon's head and Lavender swears that there was one that turned into a herd of full-sized Unicorns. I guess they know how to appeal to their target audience, the girls could not talk of anything else. Then they turned the corridor outside of the classroom Umbridge used and created a massive swamp, complete with alligators that have taken to chasing some of the nastier Slytherins around. The class inside needed to be rescued in boats. Flitwick was most impressed and herded a portion of the swamp into a corner of the corridor. It's been fenced off with a little plaque dedicated to the twins attached to the ropes. They also transfigured everything in McGonagall's classroom to be made out of balloons. Like balloon furniture and everything! A glowing path of arrows pointed the way to the astronomy classroom and they managed to set up a ceiling that looked like the night sky but was actually just sheets of sticky paper. Apparently, they are charmed to follow the position of the stars. The Potions classroom kept releasing a gas that was smellier than dung bombs and classes had to be abandoned. Talk about hilarious. They have certainly drummed up a lot of business with this stunt. They were contemplating jumping out of the Gryffindor tower windows on their brooms and doing a bunk, but McGonagall caught them and convinced them they would have more opportunities to sell their wares on the Hogwarts Express. She even thanked them for waiting until the exams were over before 'commencing their antics'.

Iris, just popped in with a message asking me to visit Hermione. Not sure if I should go or not? Guess I won't find out what she wants if I don't go.

Right well, write when you can mate.

Ron.

Harry summoned the necessary utensils to write a reply while he had the time. The house was quiet at the moment with only Sirius being home, and he had not yet risen for the day. Harry chuckled as he re-read Ron's letter. It sounded like the twins were making the most out of the Triwizard money. He almost wished that he had returned to Hogwarts so that he could have seen it all. At least it sounded like the swamp would still be there next year. Hedwig flew off with a reply for Ron as the delivery owl bought the day's copy of the Prophet. Harry pushed it aside as he heard Sirius start moving around, and he moved to make breakfast. Kreacher grumbled at having been relegated to making tea.

"I just feel that I need to be doing something right now, Kreacher, I promise I will stay out of your way at lunchtime," Harry tried to explain to the disgruntled House Elf.

It was not long before breakfast was served, along with a steaming fresh pot of tea.

"What do we do now?" Harry asked, staring at the Newspaper headlines complete with a picture of Hermione curtsying to the camera as she took a handkerchief from Albus Dumbledore's hand. The image repeated.

Apparently, Dumbledore and Hermione had released a joint statement about the events in the Ministry. Harry was just glad that it appeared no-one had noticed he was there at all and Seraphina had been squashing all the rumours of Percival battling Tom Riddle to a standstill. It had taken only the one lawsuit as fortunately the cameraman was too late arriving to take a photo of Voldemort trussed up like a chicken, but he had a picture of Hermione with wand drawn pointed at a set of black crumpled robes on the Ministry floor, Percival just visible in the background.

"Would it be possible to re-work the ritual somehow?" Harry mused.

"Not the one we were planning to use. We had already pushed it to the limit," Sirius shook his head. "I'll have to start looking for another."

"But could we still use it to get rid of the pieces we've already got?" Harry asked. "Or all the loose pieces when we find them?"

"I don't know. Part of the reason we knew it would work was because you both shared the same blood, so we were able to treat it as a sort of possession, just with two bodies. You would essentially have been calling back what he had taken from you and asking Magic's judgement on his soul."

"I'm not really keen on donating more of my blood just to do it though," Harry frowned.

"And I would not ask it of you," Sirius agreed.

"Should we remove the rest of his father's bones from the grave?" Harry grimaced in distaste. "That way he can't use that ritual again. He could easily get around not having me there, I suppose any of his enemies would do?"

"Remus will do that while he is checking out the wards with the cursebreakers and Amelia ready for their attempt to investigate the Gaunt's hut."

"At least there is one thing we know."

"What's that?"

"He won't be gone long," Harry said emphatically. "Not with Bellatrix still out there, I know she is crazy and all, but I get the feeling she was a quite a bit more intelligent than Pettigrew. So if they can't bring him back the same way they did before they will find another way."

Sirius grudgingly agreed.

"I don't get it you know," Harry added after a while.

"What's that Pup?"

"Dumbledore knows about the Horcruxes right? So why is he now going along with the whole Riddle's been killed thing?"

"My guess Harry?" His son nodded. "I honestly think it is so that he can set you up as the next Dark Lord."

"What?" Harry looked startled.

"Think about it, we know he had been priming you to be the one chosen to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort, but what was he going to do with you afterwards? I have a sneaking suspicion if we dig back far enough …"

"You think he's done this before?"

"Well, I don't know about that but I suspect he certainly had a hand in making Grindlewald and Riddle into Dark Lords."

"History is written by the Victors," Harry quoted.

"Indeed."

"I wonder …"

"What?"

"There was a diary in the Chamber of Secrets, we think Riddle wrote in it."

"You think that it might tell us more?"

"Or possibly it might tell us lies, how would we know?"

"You won't until you read it. I'll talk to Severus about taking you back down there. He sent a message saying that he has been told to continue your Occlumency lessons over the holidays."

"How long do you think it will take?"

"To what?"

"For them to come back?"

"Who?"

Harry fixed Sirius with a very unimpressed glare, which caused the older man to chuckle, "I don't know Pup, but it will be a while, wards are a tricky business and they want to plan everything out first before they try and find that Horcrux. Percival will certainly be back first."

Sirius was right, not an hour later Percival was back after saying goodbye to Seraphina. She was heading back to the States to start the IMC looking into how to deal with the spirit of Tom Riddle. They were hoping that amongst the various tribal nations of the world who were more familiar with Spirit Magic, that there might be a solution. She also had Severus' memories and statement to lodge with the ICW as well as documents for MACUSA. Sera had eventually talked Severus into applying for a visa and had provided him with a direct portkey to her apartment in New York.

"Any news?" he asked looking at the pair still sitting at the kitchen table.

They both shook their heads.

"How did the appointment go?" Percival nodded to the staircase.

"We'll know soon enough," Sirius said as a footstep sounded on the stairs.

"Ah, there you are," Addison Hedgerow said.

"Tea?" Harry offered, slightly awkwardly.

"Yes, I rather think that I need one," the Healer said as he sat with a sigh.

"Were you able to help her at all?" Sirius asked. "If you can tell us."

Addison nodded, "She gave permission for me to tell you what happened and to keep you updated." He paused to take a sip of tea, "I was able to help a little. A lot of it will be up to her though."

"How did it happen?"

"As you expected. In battle. A number of people dressed in dark robes and white masks. The last thing she remembers is the voice of someone coming up behind her and casting Obliviate."

"But she remembers some of her life before?" Sirius said confused.

"Yes, that is because she was a rather remarkable Occlumens. I hope with some deep study that she will find a pathway back to all her memories."

"Why would they Obliviate her and not just kill her though?" Harry asked. "That doesn't sound much like the Death Eaters does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Addison agreed, "and as the voice came from behind her, it stands to reason that it was someone else. From her description of the room that they were in, there was only one door behind her, and it led from the floo foyer. The attackers had all entered over the lawns, overwhelming the external wards with a wardbuster. She still needs to check her memories but instinctually she believes that wards on the floo were still active."

"Do you think that she knew something that whoever did it, did not want the Death Eaters finding out if they captured her?"

"That's a possibility. Though again, capture and interrogation was not their regular MO at the time either, they were more into terrorising people. That was why we thought they went after the McKinnons in the first place. The McKinnons were all, not just good, but exceptional fighters. Their house was known to be almost as well protected as this one. No-one would have ever thought that they would succumb to an attack."

"So how did they then? Surely a wardbuster would not be enough? I don't remember any around then that were strong enough to take out a Manor houses wards in war mode."

"I tend to agree, but we still don't have enough details."

"Hopefully, as I said, Ms McKinnon will be able to retrieve those memories soon."

"Is she okay after the treatment today?" Sirius asked softly.

"It was a difficult session, though I believe she will sleep for a little while, then she will need company."

"I wish Mooney was back," Sirius rubbed his hands across his face.

"Thanks Healer Addison," Harry said.

"You are welcome Harry," Addison smiled as he dropped the floo powder into the fire.

Kreacher popped in to remove the extra cup and saucer.

"How was Seraphina?" Sirius asked.

"Good," Percival grinned. "Showing up how bad the British Ministry is, is her pet hobby at the moment. So, getting Severus a trial at the ICW is right up her alley. Though negotiating with all the tribal nations is going to be a challenge. She is hopeful that one of them will be able to help us."

"Does she have any ideas?"

"Not really but she has a lead through an old friend in the Amazon. It does mean that she will be gone for a while though."

"But what if something happens to Severus?" Harry asked worriedly.

A hand reached out to clasp his, "He'll end up in Seraphina's apartment in New York. It's alright Harry. I am sure that Severus is quite capable of looking after himself. If she isn't home."

"Indeed I am. Put your concerns aside Harry," Severus said.

"Professor?"

"Did the mutt not tell you? I have been instructed to continue your Occlumency lessons throughout the holidays. As such I am here to inform you that as the Headmaster will be away from the school tomorrow that shall be our next lesson. I expect you and Mr Graves to floo into my office promptly at nine am."

"Yes Sir," Harry blushed still a little embarrassed over how emotional he had been the last time he had seen Snape.

-o0o-

Four pops sounded signalling that Remus had returned from Little Hangleton, drawing the occupants of the house into the parlour.

Sirius looked his friend over, not seeing any immediate injuries he asked, "Was anyone hurt?"

"No," Remus said a little breathlessly shaking his head.

"Were we right?"

"We were indeed, Sirius," said Amelia Bones, one of the other three who had apparated into the room. Sirius had changed the wards to allow the four, Remus, Amelia, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody, who were going to participate in the mission with the cursebreaking team from Gringotts to be able to apparate or portkey in, just in case they were injured or otherwise need to make a quick getaway.

Moody held up a velvet bag "I'll just dispose of these out the back," he said gruffly, stomping out of the room.

"There was a problem though," Amelia admitted sitting at the table.

Sirius called for Kreacher to bring a tea service.

"I was interviewed by the Muggle Police," Remus said. "They've had a report of a mother and child missing. At first they thought that Ma….Janey was missing as well, which is why they wanted to speak to me, as I was the last person that she was seen with. However, I was able to convince them that she was alive and well. Though I do need to take her back there tomorrow."

"Do we think that the missing lady is related to the Death Eaters?"

"Not that I know of, I'll have to check with Janey but I believe she and the child were muggles. We didn't ask too many questions given they were already investigating me," Remus admitted. "Thought it might look suspicious."

"Did anyone ask if the lights are still on in the mansion?" Percival asked.

"Of course," Moody said, re-entering the room, smelling unpleasantly of smoke. "They stopped about two nights ago."

"Not that night?"

"They were out that night, then lit the next, then out again. Haven't been back on since."

"I…I bet they were lit the night that the people disappeared," Harry said in a horrified whisper.

"Why?" Moody asked sharply.

"Before the tournament Riddle was … he was in a small body, about the size of a four-year-old. After the Ministry he would have needed something to possess. The possession of Quirrell didn't go well even with the unicorn blood but he must have been in that little body for more than twelve months," Harry's speech stalled, not able to put his thoughts into words.

"Adult possession is either a fight for dominance, like you experienced at the Ministry, or one soul stepping aside for the other. Both are fraught with danger but the second almost always leads to the body degenerating and if the spirit is forced to leave the body then the other soul is no longer attached enough to re-inhabit the body and so the person dies."

"So Quirrell was already dying?"

"Yes, as soon as he accepted sharing his body with Riddle he was essentially a dead man," Sirius reassured him.

That statement which backed up something Healer Addison had told Harry, relieved a pain in him that he had not realised he had still been carrying and he let out a long sigh.

"But the child …" Harry started to say.

"We will let the muggle police deal with it, they were already there investigating. There are contacts between them and the DMLE that will pass the message along, should it be needed," Moody said in a no fuss tone. "You just trust in the system this time Harry. I'll keep my ear to the ground as well. Unfortunately, laddie, if they have been taken by Death Eaters it might well be too late already."

-o0o-

Hermione skipped out of the Hospital Wing on the very last afternoon of term. The Hogwarts Express was due to leave the next morning and Dumbledore had promised that after she spent two weeks at home with her parents, she could move back into Grimmauld place, for the rest of the summer. It did briefly cross her mind that perhaps she should contact Sirius Black and ask if that was alright by him, but she pushed it from her mind safe in the knowledge that Albus Dumbledore was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and so the ultimate authority, regardless of what Sirius had said at Christmas. Really it was a relief that she would not have to spend a lot of time with her parents. They just did not understand her new world. They certainly would not understand her new celebrity. With a little snort she realised that if they ever found out they would probably ground her for breaking into a government building, and knocking out Harry, regardless of the fact that it had all been for his own good. No, that was just another thing that she could not tell them, another little thing that divided them further and prevented them understanding her.

She barely paid attention to the looks that were coming her way from the other students as she traversed the corridors. If she had thought about it at all she would have expected it, after all she was the saviour of the Wizarding World. Well, if you did not count that fact that Voldemort was not truly dead, but they did not know that just yet. This must have been what Harry had experienced when he had first come to Hogwarts, everyone gawking and staring, whispers taking up in her wake. Hermione was not going to ignorantly waste the opportunity. No, Hermione had made up her mind that she was going to use it. Smiling to herself she gave the password to the fat lady and climbed through the portrait hole.

Ron was sitting on the couch, Parvati next to him on the sofa, practically leaning all over him as they talked, while Lavender joined in the conversation from the chair opposite. Now that just would not do. It would not do at all! Gazing around the room, Hermione could see Seamus and Dean, indulging in some weird game that appeared to be a hybrid of exploding snap and something with Bertie Botts Every Flavoured Beans if the smoke and smells were anything to go by. Who else was there … Cormac McLaggen. She noticed the blonde boy at the back of the room. He was enormously stuck up, he had been boasting at the start of the year about becoming the Gryffindor keeper. It had annoyed Ron greatly however the boy had then ended up in the hospital wing after eating doxy eggs and so had missed the try-outs all together. He might do. A dark-haired sixth year, walked up behind him, covered his eyes with her hands and whispered seductively in his ear. Hmm, still it had potential for next year.

"Hi Ron!" she said quietly walking up behind the boy. He did not appear to hear her. "Hey Ron," she tried again speaking louder as she leaned over the couch on which he was sitting, putting her head in between the pair.

"Um, Granger? Was there something you wanted?" he looked at her a little startled by the intrusion.

She folded her arms across the backrest and leant to rest her chin on her forearms. "I just wanted to discuss our plans for the holidays?" she smiled at him winsomely, ignoring the odd choking noise Lavender made.

"I don't know what you have planned Granger but, I am pretty sure that I will be spending time with my family," Ron said bluntly.

She winked at him exaggeratedly, before gushing, "Oh, of course. Good idea not to discuss … well I won't say anymore I promise." She stood up and did her best to sashay away.

The group on the couches watched her go, the girls not even trying to hold in their laughs at her odd gait.

"What was that all about?" Parvati asked.

"Honestly I have no idea," Ron said with a shrug. "I suppose we'd best get down to the Leaving Feast."

It had been a very awkward meal, Hermione having squeezed herself into the non-existent space between Neville and Ron, practically sitting on top of Ron's lap. She blithered on about her plans for the school holidays, which primarily seemed to be along the lines of staying at Grimmauld place. Ron had begged a pen and piece of parchment off Parvati before the end of the feast say that he wanted to send a quick letter to Bill in order to get Hermione off his back. Instead he sent a warning to Harry.

On the way back from the owlery Ron turned the corner towards the Fat Lady's corridor, slightly dreading his return to the common room, when he saw somebody up ahead fastening a note to a board on the wall. A second glance showed him it was Luna. She turned her head to the sound of his footsteps as he approached.

"Hello," said Luna vaguely, glancing around at him as she stepped back from the notice board.

"How come you're not at the feast?" Ron asked.

"Well, I've lost most of my possessions," said Luna serenely. "People take them and hide them, you know. But as it's the last night, I really do need them back, so I've been putting up signs."

She gestured to the noticeboard, upon which, sure enough she had pinned a list of all her missing books and clothes with a plea for their return.

As he perused the list an odd feeling rose in Ron; an emotion that he had only ever felt in regards to his best friend before. It was a few moments before he realised that he was feeling sorry for Luna.

"This must be nearly all of your things, how come people hide your stuff? How … just … " He asked her, frowning.

"Oh … well … " she shrugged. "I think they think I'm a bit odd, you know. Some people call me 'Loony' Lovegood, actually."

Ron looked at her and the new feeling of pity intensified rather painfully.

"That's no reason to take your things," he said flatly. "D'you want help finding them?"

"Oh, no," she said smiling at him. "They'll come back; they always do in the end. It was just that I wanted to pack tonight. Anyway … why … aren't you at the feast?"

"Just had to send a letter. Hey, do you want to meet us on the train next year?" he asked an idea forming in his mind. He smiled at her when she nodded. "Good, now … Dobby?" he said unsurely.

There was a pop and the small elf appeared in front of them.

"Master Harry Potter's Wheezy asked Dobby to come?"

"Yeah, sorry Dobby. I wanted to ask a favour, but only if you have time," he glanced sideways at Luna, who was now twisting a lock of her hair through her fingers absentmindedly. "Um, someone has come and taken Luna's things," he reached over and pulled the list of the wall. "Do you think you could find them and return them to her?"

Dobby took the list and looked over it, then turned his bulbous eyes on the thin girl, before taking a step closer and sniffing the air around her. "Dobby cans be doing, Master Harry won't minds."

"I don't think he would either. Thanks Dobby." Dobby just clicked his fingers and disappeared.

Luna blinked at the empty space where the elf had been, "Well, I guess I'll just go down and have some pudding and wait for my things to turn up … Have a nice holiday Ronald."

"Yeah … yeah, you too."

The journey home on the Hogwarts Express the next day was eventful in several ways. Firstly, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who had clearly been waiting for Harry to return to strike, had finished waiting. They had decided that Ron was a good secondary target and attempted to ambush him halfway down the train as he made his way back from the toilet. The attack might have been successful had they not unwittingly chosen to stage the attack right outside the compartments housing the rest of the Gryffindor fifth years. By the time Lavender, Parvati, Fay, Seamus and Dean had finished using a variety of the hexes and jinxes that they had learnt in the Rec room, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle resembled nothing so much as three gigantic slugs squeezed into Hogwarts uniforms. They were quickly levitated into the luggage racks of an empty carriage and left there to ooze.

"I must say, I'm looking forward to seeing Malfoy's Mother's face when he gets off the train," said Ernie McMillan, who had passed by as they were clearing the corridor.

"Goyle's mum will be really pleased, though," said Ron. "He's loads better looking now." He stopped as he was distracted by the rattle of the food trolley from further up the corridor. "Thanks guys. I'd best be getting back."

Ron managed to intercept the lady with the trolly and procure a couple of cauldron cakes and pasties before returning to his compartment where Hermione, whom they had not been able to get rid of, was reading the latest article on her exploits in the Daily Prophet, Ginny was doing a quiz in the Quibbler and Neville was stroking his Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which had grown a great deal over the year and now made odd crooning noises when touched.

Two hours later Ron finally managed to distract Neville from his in-depth discussions into the breeding plans he had for his plants with a game of exploding snap. They were halfway through the match when with a pop Hermione turned into a toad.

'Croak'

"Um," Ron looked around the carriage in bemusement.

"It wasn't me!" Neville said indignantly, as Ginny snorted.

"Fred and George aren't here, so that leaves you Ginny," Ron stated.

"Nice detective skills," Ginny said in amusement. "However, you are lacking a motive."

His blue eyes peered at her, before he was distracted momentarily when the pile of cards in front of him exploded.

"Well, who was it then?"

"Oh, I didn't say it wasn't me, just that you did not have any proof," she grinned.

"If the worst she gets after this year is that she is turned into a toad, for a few minutes…" Neville started.

"Oh, who said anything about a few minutes," Ginny said, getting up. "I'm going to see if I can find Luna."

"Say hi from us," Ron said as his sister walked to the door, "And tell her she's still welcome to join us if she wants."

Ginny stuck her head back around the door, "Oh and it shouldn't be able to understand you at the moment. Just so you know." Then she was gone.

"Muffliato," Ron cast.

"But Ginny said…."

"I'm not taking any chances," Ron said sombrely. "Could we just dump her in the corridor do you think?"

"Maybe," Neville replied thoughtfully. "Do you think that is the only thing that's going to… " he began to ask but was interrupted as with a pop Hermione changed into a rat. "Never mind," he ended with a grin, "Perhaps the corridor isn't such a great idea, with everyone's cats on board." He glanced at Crookshanks who was eyeing his owner hungrily, from inside his basked. "Besides this might be amusing."

"I don't know how Ginny is doing it?" Ron asked puzzled as Hermione popped into the shape of a small poodle that barred its teeth at them before it changed into a fly.

"Well obviously she got the potions off the twins."

"Yeah, but … you know what it doesn't matter. It just means I can save these," he showed Neville a handful of sweets that were clearly the twins inventions, "for later."

"What do they do?"

"Don't know," Ron shrugged, "but it should be fun to find out."

Ron and Neville spent the next few hours playing cards as Hermione popped between various shapes. As the train slowed as it approached King's Cross, a very disorientated and dishevelled Hermione resumed her usual shape.