My dears!

I finally finished It Was Her Ginger Hair, and it was quite a bittersweet feeling.

THANK YOU ALL, for all your reviews and love, seriously, it's amazing and you are all amazing, and I'm incredibly happy! Schoolwork has been mental, exams are happening starting in the middle of next week, so if you don't see any updates for the next few weeks, now you know why.

Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)

My tumblr: indiebluecrown. tumblr. com

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

As always, for Sable and Lais xxx (I think you'll like this Sable hehe)


Previously…

"What do you want?" Hermione asks gruffly, no niceties, no pleasant formalities. Dead and narrow, straight to the point.

"Hello again, Miss Granger. Is Mister Lupin home?"


"Mipsy!" Hermione calls out, still blocking Dumbledore's entry into their home.

The Elf appears with a pop a moment later, wiping her wet hands across the front of her apron, "Yes, Miss Granger? Mipsy was just washing dishes she was," the House Elf was looking downwards until a beat after she finishes speaking. Her wide eyes travel upwards and then she sees the tall wizard standing on the other side of the door.

"Oh! Why is Dumbly here? Dumbly do bad things," Mipsy says crossly, her hands on her hips and her stance one of defiance.

"That is a brilliant question, Mipsy," Hermione exclaims with mock joy. "Yes, Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, what brings you to our humble abode?" Hermione asks in an overtly enthusiastic tone, but there's deep rooted distrust shining in her eyes, coated in a layer of fire and brimstone as she appraises the wizard before him.

"I wish to see Mister Lupin," Dumbledore says in a calm tone-one which is infinitely irritating to Hermione.

"There are a lot of things I wish for, unfortunately, wishes don't always come true," Hermione smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She takes a deep breath, tightens her hold on the edge of the door and then angles her face down to Mipsy-who had walked until she was standing beside Hermione, "Mipsy, if you would be so kind as to inform Dorea that Dumbledore has decided to pay us a visit."

Mipsy gives a curt nod, and vanishes as Hermione turns her focus back to the wizard in front of her.

"Missus Potter needn't be involved," Dumbledore frowns, tapping his left foot on the ground softly, once.

"Needn't Mister Lupin," Hermione says wryly, lips pursed, her chin raised.

There are a few tense, uncomfortable moments, but then Hermione's heightened hearing picks up the angry sound of bare feet slapping against wood, and a small smile graces her face-the first since she had laid eyes on Dumbledore.

Finally Dumbledore must hear it as Dorea gets closer, and his calm facade splinters slightly, he tries to hide it, but she sees the desperation in his eyes, "please, Miss Granger. You must understand I am only working towards a better future, everything I do is for the-"

"-greater good?" Hermione asks, acid flying off her tongue. She narrows her eyes, "I think you forget that I know all about your greater good...and it isn't mine."

Dumbledore's expression shifts back into the friendly one that it previously held, to give the impression that he is just a wise, old man that wishes to help. She supposes to him, he is, but she did it his way once, and she sure as hell wasn't doing it again. The memories of starving, of losing hope in the middle of the forest, of being frustrated at how vague all of Dumbledore's instructions and clues were-are still fresh in her mind.

Closer and closer the footsteps get, and then Hermione hears irate footfalls behind her as Dorea practically flies down the grand staircase.

Hermione turns to look at Dorea, and her eyes widen slightly. Dorea's hair is flying about wildly, she's barefoot, she's dressed in casual emerald green day robes that came to her hips-however they are open and reveal her lacy black bra-and a pair of black satin shorts, that cover everything that need to, but it's the least dressed Hermione has ever seen the woman. It's also the most vehement she has seen her, and she inadvertently takes a step closer to the door to allow for Dorea to have a better view of Dumbledore.

Dorea's wand is clasped tightly in her hand, and a storm of emotions rolls across her face, tumbling and cracking, like the dark grey-darkening by the moment-rain clouds that are heavily floating about in her irises. There's magic crackling across her skin, and it looks like Dorea could shoot lightning from her fingertips if she so desired.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing here?" Dorea snarls out, absolutely livid. Hermione wouldn't doubt that Dorea would win a duel between the two in that moment.

"Dorea, may you please cover your-" Dumbledore says, gesturing to her chest, and Dorea's eyes narrow to slits.

"Oh, please, some tits are Albus Dumbledore's weakness? The Great Albus Dumbledore was defeated by some breasts, I'm sure the Prophet will go mad with that article, front page," Dorea rolls her eyes.

"Dorea, please-"

"Hush, I know they don't bother you. If it was Charlus out here with his dick out, then maybe you'd have a problem."

"What did you just say to me?" Dumbledore bit out, his pleasant exterior finally crumbling, and he took a menacing step towards Dorea, who merely raised her chin to maintain eye contact.

"You think I don't know? I know that you are gay, Dumbledore. I don't give a shit. You can be with whoever you want, that is of no importance to me. What is important to me, is the fact that you poisoned my son! Better, I should say, you got someone else to do it for you," Dorea's words lash out of her mouth like fiendfyre, the brilliant tongues wrapping around Dumbledore's limbs, cutting into his skin.

He deflates slightly, and is silent for a moment before saying, "Dorea. You must let go of your personal feelings in this matter, we need to know Voldemort's movements, and part of that is knowing what is going on in the werewolf packs."

Dorea had seemed to lose some of her fire for a moment, but her eyes snap open a fraction wider, a vein in her forehead pops and she raises her wand, pressing it under Dumbledore's chin. In a quiet voice she says, "that's what this is about? The werewolf packs?" She takes a deep breath, and Hermione can practically see the steam coming out of her nostrils.

"The FUCKING werewolf packs!" Dorea screams, digging the tip of her wand in deeper, and Dumbledore grimaces uncomfortably.

The commotion has of course, drawn the attention of the others, and at that moment everyone else in the house is standing at one entrance to the foyer or another. Emmeline, Harry and Ron from the kitchen, Sirius and Lily from the Sun Room, and Charlus, James and Remus are standing at the top of the stairs.

"Mum," Remus says then, it's soft, but it seems to cut through some of the heat radiating off of Dorea. "I can handle this."

Dorea glances over her shoulder for a moment, a radiant smile on her face, and honey dripping from her voice, "sweetheart. I know you can, but I've been wanting to do this for a while now. Plus, there's no fucking way I'm going to let him in a room alone with him, where he can try and guilt you into this madness."

"Mum," James tries, but doesn't utter another peep when his Father puts a hand on his shoulder.

"I would be doing Hope and Lyall a disservice if I knowingly let their son enter such a reckless agreement. Most of those werewolves have been ostracized from society-from the wizarding world. They will either detest us, or not be interested in our affairs. The chances are a few will join Voldemort, especially most that were bitten by that mangy creature Greyback.

Those that don't will be scared for their lives, they didn't ask to be treated as lesser because of something they can't control...but you must understand that they will be more wolf than human, they will have long since given into their primal urges." Dorea says as she pushes Dumbledore out the door, walking forward slowly.

"Dorea," Dumbledore warns, and it seems to spark a challenge in Dorea.

"I, Dorea Potter, challenge you, Albus Dumbledore to a Wizard's Duel," Dorea says, as Dumbledore walks backwards down the front steps, and as she descends them gracefully.

"Dorea."

"Would you shut up, Albus and take out your ruddy wand?" Dorea sighs, she pauses as her feet sink into the grass, but she sidesteps to her right, eyes still on Dumbledore.

Albus begrudgingly takes out his wand, "what are we duelling for?"

"If you win, then you are allowed to have ten minutes alone with Remus…" Dorea trails off, cocking her head to the side.

"What happens if you win?"

"Then you will not meddle in any of my family's affairs, unless we come to you for help-it's doubtful, but I think I ought to leave that in there, just to be on the safe side," Dorea says mockingly. "Do you accept?"
"The wager seems a little unfair," Albus pipes up.

"Fine, you get ten minutes and a cookie on your way out the door," Dorea growls. "Now, do you accept?"

Dumbledore studies Dorea for a few minutes, he waves his wand and the package that he had been holding in his hand floats over to where Hermione is standing-she holds out her palm and catches it. "That is a properly brewed batch of Wolfsbane, I'm giving it to you in good faith," Dumbledore says softly, and Hermione suspiciously sniffs it-it smells as it should.

The others pour out onto the porch, but Hermione remains where she is, and she feels Remus come up behind her, placing his chin on her head and wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"She's going to win right?" Hermione asks softly.

Remus shifts his head, and places a kiss to the top of her head, and hugs her to his front tighter, "she'll burn down the world for us-you included, she's claimed you, I have faith that she will."

Remus takes a deep breath, and she can hear how fast his heart is beating-he isn't calm, not in the slightest, and then he continues, "she may be the Mother of a bunch of cubs, but I think that everyone forgets that she's a snake."

Hermione looks back out into the yard, at the two wix facing each other off, and she swallows, her mouth feeling dry. A light breeze blows through Dorea's raven hair, and hits Dumbledore, blowing his silvery hair out behind him.

"I accept."