.

So far... The reborn Hermione launched the Cathesis League to fight Dark corruption, and Crest defensive training at Hogwarts where she'll soon begin her third year. Harry has been grounded by Sirius, and is feeling more and more confined and useless as his friends enjoy their summer freedom. Theo Nott is suspected of helping the Black Arc. Mike's agents watching his home saw Draco enter. Neville thinks it was Harry in disguise, but when they return to Grimmauld Place, Harry is still fast asleep from the effects of an earlier magical potion. Now read on...

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Chapter 72

A Well Thought Out Plan


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The Wink

The cool drinks and snacks the old elf had delivered to Harry's bedroom looked delicious, but while Harry continued to sleep, Neville and Luna took only sips of fruit juice else nibbled at sandwiches as they muttered and murmured over the day's events together.

Meanwhile, Hermione strutted the carpet alone, softly huffing and snorting to herself. As she waited impatiently for Harry to awaken, she frowned at the others, and the room in general. "I can't believe you'd even bother reading Unfogging the Future," Hermione grumbled at the blonde girl. "Divination is rubbish."

"How do you know the book is not worth reading?" said Luna.

"Well, I uuhm... I've read it."

Luna smiled, and turned back to continue her discussion with her boyfriend.

"And I suppose Neville's taking Magical Creatures with you?" Hermione grumped. "If Hagrid brings a Hippogriff to the first lesson, you'd better watch out, seeing as Draco was injured my first time round."

"Good," muttered Neville distractedly.

"Not really. You know his father has a lot of clout at the Ministry – fat purses passed and suchlike. They had the Hippogriff tried and almost executed. You'd better keep your eye on Draco and drag him out of harm's way – what are those other books in your pile, Luna? You bought more than I did!"

"The new Tutomees for next term," said Luna. "Mummy said to bring them at the same time. She's added Astronomy to the History and Potions ones and has bigger references not for Hogwarts: a guide to healing, banking advice, even things like shopkeeping tips for new traders."

"Goodness! How can she – I mean, find the time, let alone have the knowhow?"

"Oh, they wrote themselves! That's how all our own Tutomees are duplicated. Mummy propped them open with other books and used a new charm so they could turn the pages and learn."

Hermione growled irritably. "Seems your mother took more from using Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem than the one task promised!"

Luna rose to her feet with an unusually dark expression. "Mummy did NOT break her promise! The diadem left her wiser than you know!" She turned away with a rush to look frantically around the bedroom.

"Luna, I..."

Neville smiled. "Surely you're not searching for such a tiny little thing – are you, Luna?" None of his girlfriend's behaviour should have surprised him, yet frequently did. With amusement, he observed her scurrying around waving arms hither and thither in the warm afternoon air – dimmed and shrouded by the drawn curtains.

Hermione frowned. "Searching for what?"

"Harry will show us when he wakes, I'm sure." Luna paused to squint into a shadowed corner, daring it to reveal its secrets. "They like to nest where darkness and solitude cling – I do hope it doesn't roost!"

"What on Earth are you looking for?" Hermione stopped pacing, the muffled creaking of the boards beneath the carpet silenced, and her stabbing stares toward the sleeping form of Harry ended with a scowl at Luna.

Luna sighed back at her, eyes white, then at Neville. "We're too late. If there is a Glumbumble in here then it has already vexed Hermione quite badly."

"I am NOT vexed!" snapped Hermione. "I'm just..." She hesitated. "You're right. I am... somewhat irritated with both Neville and Harry which is completely silly. I mean, Harry's not done anything except sleep, and Neville, you were right to voice your concerns that he might have gone to Nott's home. Still, I–"

"–What!" Now it was Neville's turn to express both irritation and confusion. From the vicinity of Harry's Favourites shelf, he cast a puzzled look in Luna's direction, to draw inspiration.

"Aah..." said Luna, "She doesn't know. That explains everything."

"–I mean," continued Hermione, "I really ought to be there waiting for Draco to come out from Nott's home so I might get a chance to slip inside. It's terribly important, you know. Instead I'm stuck here... what did you say? What explains everything?"

"Harry's blue cape is still warm," Neville said, speaking quite softly as if expecting Harry to overhear him, "and–"

"–warm? Oh, come on, Neville, it's midsummer and– what's that?" she added, seeing Neville lift a small rod from the shelf.

"His junior wand. The one you sent him for Christmas when he was only six."

"The toy–?"

"–And the book he left as a clue, Hermione!" cried Luna, not at all concerned about disturbing Harry.

Hermione's nose wrinkled in puzzled frustration. "What clue, Luna?"

"The cover. He left it wide open for all to see, but knowing only you would understand what it meant!" Luna held it out.

Hermione took it and scornfully read out the title, "Blackbeard's Wicked Raid on Camelot? Nonsense! They're not even the same era! Why does Harry read this pulp drivel?"

"I bought it him last Christmas," pouted Luna. "I thought he might enjoy it."

"I – oh ... I didn't..." Hermione cringed with sudden awkwardness. "I mean it's fine as fantasy and uuh..."

"The cover illustration, Hermione! The brave knights are raining down arrows on the invading pirates through those narrow slits in the wall. They're called loopholes."

"–I know what they're–!"

"–And the Blacks have a magical loophole in the attic!" Neville cut in, " to allow owls in – and out – through the Fidelius charm!"

Astonishment and disbelief overwhelmed the embarrassment Hermione had felt. "That ... is the biggest ... pile of–"

"–Eh?" Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Harry! Tell them you didn't... you couldn't have. ... Did you?"

Harry grinned. "The loophole folds the magic back on itself like an S-bend so nobody can see through. I wriggled around it until I was above the roof, summoned my Nimbus from the garden, then–"

"You performed a summoning charm with a toy?" Hermione gaped her astonishment. "Then you walked into a suspected Arcanist's home without a proper wand?"

"Well, I think Harry was very brave," said Luna.

Hermione shook her head in continuing amazement. "But why didn't Kreacher notice you were – ah, I think I understand now..." Her tone lacked certainty. "You were only inside a few minutes, weren't you? When Theo checked the windows and opened the door, you slipped out wearing your invisibility cloak, right?"

"Not exactly," smiled Harry as he opened the curtains and enjoyed his moment in the sun. He took his time.

"Well?" Hermione flapped her arms with exasperation.

Face glowing in the bright daylight, Harry turned back to the others. "I pretended to Theo that I was going out with my cloak but instead I slipped upstairs to search for his dad."

"You ... did ... WHAT? Come on, tell us the whole thing. I can't believe you waltzed into Theo Nott's home and asked him for a hair – or did you grab it while under the cloak?"

With a shake of his head, Harry dug into a pocket and pulled out two pieces of folded parchment. "Here's your butterfly-bird, Luna. Sorry, I broke it accidentally."

"Ah, there you are!" Luna accepted her origami masterpiece with delight. "I can fix you, don't worry."

"What's...?" Hermione said.

"That paper bird is Mike's letter to you with the details about Nott's place. This is what really matters." He held out the other parchment to Hermione.

Hermione read it out, "I solemnly swear to be faithful to Crest and its members?" She cast a detection charm upon it. "This isn't worth the parchment it's written on. Nott might sign anything not cursed if it helped his cause. Doesn't mean he'll keep his word."

"Look at the signature again, Hermione."

She did so, then her mouth gaped as widely as her eyes. "BLOOD! You got Theo to prick his thumb and press it here so he could sign over it!" Hermione's face had lit up.

"I figured he might notice if I yanked out a hair, so what better way to get something of his that you can use in your Polyjuice."

"Polyjuice? I don't want this for Polyjuice, Harry!" – his expression sagged, but lifted immediately when Hermione continued in a greatly excited manner – "Better than that! This will help me to determine if one of the Arcanists who died near the motorway was Nott's father. If so, it not only adds to our knowledge of who Cathesis must track and bring to justice, it changes how we regard Theo. Will he be happy, if he becomes free of his father's influence, or bitter at his enemies?"

"He tried to hide his feelings but seemed upset and confused to me," said Harry. "There was no sign of his dad anywhere."

"So he's covering up for him," mused Hermione, eyes drifting vacantly to the wall. "That might mean his father had previously coached him then went into hiding, or they'd already arranged Theo should call him in sick if he went missing."

The significance of Harry's reckless achievement hit her, and Hermione's attention promptly switched back to the boy she loved, the signed parchment held high as a triumphant banner. She would not spoil his mood. "This is brilliant, Harry, just brilliant! So like how I knew you back at Hogwarts when–" Sudden sobs and laughter fought each other to gush out feelings and memories she'd thought lost so long ago. "Y–you must have b–broken at least f–fifty rules!"

"Hermione, you're crying...?"

"Oh, H–Harry, it's been so hard without you, I didn't think I could continue on my own for–"

"–on your own? Hermione, you're getting me mixed up with–"

"–a single moment longer. But you've come back to me. I prayed you would."

"Hermione," he said in a soft, worried tone, "you're getting me muddled up with that other Harry."

"No," and she smiled through shining tears, "it is you. You're the same one now, the same Harry Potter I loved before."

Then girlishness took command and she yielded to its appeal, aware only that she was lost in the clumsy embrace of a mere boy, yet shaking with strange emotions because of it. "You did it, Harry. You really did it."

Harry stroked the thick mess of her hair, delighted she was pleased with him yet deeply ashamed he'd wished it: her caring about him should have been enough. "So... we're...?"

"–never needed to prove yourself to me, Harry."

Her whisper was a breath of life-giving air to a boy who'd been drowning in self-doubt. She was on his lap, whether on chair or bed neither knew, and if the sun was still shining in through the window, they didn't care, for their shared inner light and warmth was more than enough. Long, long moments passed before they became conscious of anything but themselves.

Absently, Harry murmured, "Luna and Neville ... gone downstairs I think." He felt Hermione nodding into his neck, then he continued, "Don't tell Luna, but I was only reading that book while I waited to fall asleep. I did fake drink a tiny bit of the potion the first time, then I just sipped another small dose when I got back here. Kreacher thought it was one long magical sleep but it was two small naps."

"So it wasn't a clue? You didn't know arrow slits are called loopholes?" She pulled her head back a little to study his expression.

"Not the foggiest idea!" He screwed up one eye.

"Call that a wink?" smirked Hermione. "That's worse than Luna's!"

Outside the bedroom door, Harry's mother heard them laughing softly together, and she lowered her outstretched hand before the knuckles could knock, then backed quietly away, a smile on her lips.

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Dirty Tricks

The sudden descent of several owls caused Hestia to brace herself against the stair rail. "Wha...!"

"Could not stop invasion, Mistress," called the old house elf from higher up the stairwell. "Too many at once for poor old Kreacher."

With a muttered grumble, Mrs Black galloped down after the birds which were now winging back and forth through the entrance hall, uncertain which way to go.

"Sirius!" Hestia's voice carried down to the front parlour faster than she could run.

The door opened and Sirius ducked within its frame as one of the birds sped over him. He was chuckling by the time Hestia joined him. "It's only three ... or four ... or five of them – anyway, one is just the Evening Prophet."

"Two for me!" cried Luna. She snuffed twice at one of the owls then reached for the one she recognised.

Neville was already unrolling a scroll from his.

Sirius sagged lazily onto the sofa, put up his feet, and unfolded the newspaper. "Kreacher! Tea and crumpets, please!"

"Gran's writing ..." murmured Neville.

"Ginny flew her Firebolt up the Great Pyramid!" Luna curled up on a comfy chair as she read.

"There's one for Hermione," said Hestia thoughtfully.

Neville wrinkled his brow. "Mum and Dad have been sent to Spain on a special investigation. Gran says, if I want I can stay overnight at – Luna, can I sleep at your place tonight?"

Sirius roared with laughter.

"That's not funny!" sniffed Hestia. "They're – what? What are you reading?"

But Sirius could scarcely speak sensibly, so great were his rapturous convulsions. He held up the front page of the Evening Prophet sporting a full width moving photograph of Snape shovelling his arms into Bletchley's impossibly-humongous discharge. "How c–could – Sss–Snivelly – have b–believed – th–that was real sshhh–"

"–Shame on you, Sirius!" cried Hestia, gathering baby Cadence up in an attempt to bury those precious little ears within her bosom. Yet Hestia smiled despite herself as the kids joined in: Luna squealing and clapping, a wet-eyed Neville gasping out giggles, even the muffled chortles of little Cadence could be faintly heard amidst the merriment.

Swiftly, Mrs Black directed attention away from the news. "Luna, if you want, why don't you and Neville stay here till tomorrow? Keep Harry company?"

"Thank you, Mrs Black." Luna wiped her eyes and gave Neville's arm a squeeze.

"How are the Weasleys?" continued Hestia.

"George looks really sunburnt. Percy gave him a... strong rebuke for not reapplying his protective charm but Ron thinks he's faking dark skin with a hex because he fancies one of the local witches."

" 'Rebuke'?" grinned Neville. "Since when did you start using words like that?"

Luna whispered close to his ear that Ginny had used a naughty word she ought not to say aloud.

Hestia frowned. "Who's that brown owl from, Sirius? Looks like it might be from Remus."

"Yes, Remus ..." There was a short pause as he skimmed it then he laughed once more. "Asking if I'd seen this evening's Prophet!"

"And that great grey on the cabinet?" She walked over and reached up for the tiny folded parchment almost obscured by a remarkable depth of feathers. "Seems overkill to – ouch!" Hestia sucked on the soft skin between her thumb and forefinger where the bird had nipped and pulled herself and Cadence well away. "Well, that answers my question – must be a security bird."

"It's for me," said Luna. "I told him to please hold on because I wanted to read Ginny's first. Two snuffs means 'stop' to an owl, and one snuff means 'go'." To demonstrate, she snuffed once and, with a vigorous waft of air, the grey flew down to perch on the chair back beside her shoulder.

"Then who is this one for, I wonder?" said Hestia, walking over to a small tawny that was investigating the fruit bowl on the sideboard. She reached forward cautiously but the bird was preoccupied wondering if a fallen pear stalk might try to crawl away.

"For Hermione..." mused Hestia.

"Want me to take it up?" offered Sirius, half-rising to his feet. "I just need to show Harry the headline picture!"

"Uumm... no, best not erm... disturb them."

Sirius laughed again and flopped back to carry on reading.

"Have to go." Luna was on her feet, rushing to the door.

Neville jumped up. "Luna? What's...?"

Luna stopped herself by grabbing the doorframe and whirled around, eyes wide, shouting her sudden realisation so loudly that her distress echoed around the main hallway, "MUST BE YOU TOO, NEVILLE!"

"What must?" Mrs Black, seeing the hurt look on Luna's face, rushed to her. "Whatever's the matter?"

"Summonsed. I'm going to be summonsed." Luna's tone was numb. "Have to see Mummy."

"What's going on down there?" Harry's voice bawled from high up the stairwell.

"Summonsed to what?" said Mrs Black.

Luna thrust a small parchment into her hands which Hestia squinted at. "Symbols? Someone's drawn symbols?"

"They're Swedish pictograms," said Luna dully. "He must have read the article I wrote for the Quibbler while I was learning about them at Beauxbatons."

Hestia stared at the final moving symbol below the message. The icon was clearly two hands shaking, but flaring round it in yellow ink, was a circle radiating lines like the sun. "Who, Luna? Who sent you this?"

"Why, 'a friend', of course – see the tiny handshake? It must be Paul Ingleton. I added a faint halo to my picture of him when he was cleared of stealing the Ministry Christmas fund."

"The Minister's Undersecretary? What does it say, Luna? What's it say!"

"Something happening?" Hermione and Harry, looking slightly dishevelled, had entered the room.

"I'm to be charged with violent behaviour," explained Luna – Neville's mouth fell open in shock as Luna continued – "at nine on Monday morning, but look – there's a question mark against the little clock."

"Fudge is up to his dirty tricks again!" growled Hermione. "Let me see that!"

She winced at the icons. "I've only a hazy knowledge of... what are those ones, Luna? Help me read this."

With Luna's assistance, Hermione finally grasped the importance of the message. "There's to be a disciplinary hearing that will inquire into the events outside Flourish and Blotts. Luna will have to answer charges of aggressive behaviour. Neville, you can be sure you'll be summonsed as well."

Eyes flaring, Neville said, "But when? If it's for Monday, why haven't we both received an official writ by now?"

Hermione groaned. "He did something similar to Harry a ... a lifetime ago. Tried to make him too late to defend himself."

"Then we'll get there early!" cried Neville.

"You can't," said Hermione, waving the cryptic message. "Paul is risking his position by leaking this information. Nobody must learn you've been forewarned."

"Yet ..." – Hestia shook her head – "they must NOT arrive late!"

For many minutes they debated what to do. Luna was clearly anxious to hurry home to consult her parents, and so was Neville until he gloomily remembered his own message: "They're in Europe on a special assignment. Only the Auror Office can contact them."

Hermione gaped at him. "That confirms it; Fudge must have arranged for them to be out of the way so they can't be called as witnesses." Her eyebrows knitted together in thought."You need legal representation, Neville, and no one better than Barty Crouch."

"Of course!" Sirius nodded. "Listen, we might turn this to our advantage. If we can discredit Fudge, his position will be weakened and Barty's strengthened."

"That's right!" said Hermione. "What do you say, Neville? Would you like me to contact Mr Crouch? You too, Luna?"

But while Neville eagerly nodded, Luna still seemed troubled. "Must see Mum first."

Hermione shook her head. "Bole and Bletchley will have to be questioned and likely their families will consult the best lawyers they can. You need expert representation, Luna."

"Must see Mummy."

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Theatrics at Fortescue's

An extra-large, multi-coloured, whipped-cream cone lay untouched, softening in the sunlight on a table outside Florean Fortescue's – a rare fate for the dessert of a pudding devotee. The pale blue book absorbing Luna Lovegood's interest was both small and thin, unlike any authority on law that Hermione had ever known or imagined.

"Are you certain that's all you intend to use in your defence?" said Hermione. Sunlit filaments of gold glittered in her hair as she shook it doubtfully.

The book snorted.

"Wha...!"

"I can assure you, young lady," sighed the book, fluttering its pages indignantly and with such vigour that Luna's light hair fluttered in their breeze, "I have five centuries of legal knowledge and understanding to draw upon."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't..."

"Humph!"

"There, there," soothed Luna, stroking the book's spine as she hugged it protectively to herself.

A welcome distraction came from Neville who had finished his ice cream early and seemed braced like a sprinter on starting blocks ready to race up Diagon Alley. He nudged his empty dish even further away and pressed himself back on his chair a few inches.

"It's almost quarter to, Hermione! Shouldn't we go?" His knuckles clenched on the table top in preparation to thrust himself up.

"For the tenteenth time, both of you must receive the official summons before we set off. We want people to see us in public and remember the time of day so there's no suspicion we already knew. And after that...?" she prompted them with arched eyebrows.

Luna closed her book to recite, "I shriek like a crazy person: 'But it's almost nine!' to attract the attention of–"

"–of that reporter you anonymously tipped off that we're meeting the one and only boy who lived," grumbled Neville. "Yes, yes, we do remember, Hermione. It's just that I never imagined it would be this close to the hour. We'll never walk to Whitehall in less than thirty minutes."

Hermione smiled. "True, but it's only thirty seconds on the Knight Bus so we–"

–FLOP! THUMP!

Chocolate sprinkles were scattered wastefully. Two officious-looking packets had dropped from above onto the table, but the imperious owl delivering them deigned to stay one second longer than had been necessary.

Luna leapt to her feet, waving her book and shouting, "BUT IT'S ALMOST NINE!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and hissed, "Read it first, Luna!"

Neville was already tearing his envelope open and speaking in one long rush, "OH NO! HOW CAN WE GET TO THE MINISTRY IN FIVE MINUTES! THIS IS AWFUL! THIS IS A CALAMITY! THIS IS DREADFUL!"

Before he'd finished, Luna was running, with Neville after, and shouting as loudly as she could, "NO, NEVILLE. WE MUST KEEP THIS SECRET! OH, THE DISGRACE IF THE DAILY PROPHET FOUND OUT!" With the back of one hand across her forehead, she swooned into his arms – but quickly recovered when the poor boy was unable to carry her more than twenty paces on his staggering run to the Leaky Cauldron.

Wincing at the dreadful over-acting, Hermione hurried after them, with a tiny backward glance to make sure the reporter and his photographer were eagerly pursuing them.

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All Gone

BANG! SCREEEECH!

Stan Shunpike yawned and muttered hoarsely, "Leaky Cauldron," for the sixth time. "Where to now?"

"Leaky Cauldron," grinned Sirius Black, holding out his fare, and winking at Harry who was sat on the bed beside him.

Stan winced. "But we're already at–"

"–Yes, but we liked arriving so much we want to come here again."

" 'ere that, Ern? 'e wants us to–"

"And step on it – no!" – he'd spotted Neville erupt out of the Leaky Cauldron's street door – "Stop! We're here." Sirius and Harry leapt to the boarding platform as if to get off. "Luna! Neville! Hermione! We coincidently just got here!"

"OH! THAT WAS LUCKY," cried Neville, breathlessly. "Back into the bus. We have to get to the Ministry in a hurry."

BANG!

BANG! SCREEEECH!

The reporter and his cameraman barely had time to jump aboard before they'd all gone – arriving at Whitehall within seconds.

Three minutes remained – and three minutes they took to race through the corridors of power to the room designated. They tumbled into a small, windowless receiving chamber whose dark-panelled walls were lined with stiffly-upright chairs lit by a single candle. There was a bright flash as the press photographer aimed his camera.

"STOP!" A man wearing the starched robes of an assistant court bailiff, who had been lounging across a settee, held up his hand and struggled to his feet looking astonished. Two burly, badged helpers posted themselves at his sides. "You're early! I mean... you're ... not ..." He squinted at a large fob watch he'd pulled from his pocket. His frown deepened, then he took control of himself and the room. "Which is Lovegood?"

Luna stepped forward with a dreamy smile; everything was going to plan.

"Longbottom?"

"That's me." Neville joined Luna.

"IN!" ordered the bailiff. "No, not you lot, just the prisoners."

"The devil, you say!" cried Sirius forcing himself forward against the impediment of the thuggish aides. "They are NOT prisoners."

"Lord Black!"

Sirius turned.

Barty Crouch had entered close behind them and his eyes blazed caution. "I just received message to represent Neville Longbottom," – his eyes flickered briefly towards Hermione but displayed no recognition – "I will go in with them."

"You shall not," insisted the bailiff's man. "You will enter when I admit you and not before."

"The accused have the right–"

"–My sworn duty is to follow orders, and follow them I will!"

"How long must we be held back then?" demanded Crouch.

"I shall await instructions until I drop if need be," replied the staunch officer, and settled himself back on his sofa in an upright posture from where he kept a watchful eye on everyone present.

The pressman, whose attention had been swivelling back and forth between the two adversaries paused his racing quill to await developments.

"Forgive me," said Crouch, turning his gaze sideways and down, "are you Miss Granger?"

"I am, sir."

Crouch whirled back to the obstinate officer. "Miss Granger is a witness for the defence!"

"She must wait to be called," drawled the man, barely even swaying in his alert position.

"I am defence counsel for one of the accused. How is Miss Granger to be called if I am not already within."

The official made no reply other than a flicker of what might have begun as a shrug. His henchmen remained standing and, Hermione noticed, their legs were slightly braced ready for action.

Harry pulled Hermione to the furthest corner of the small, dingy chamber, whispering. "Do they expect us to storm the place?" His meaningful look suggested he'd be ready if that was what Hermione planned.

But Hermione had no fallback strategy prepared. Confident in their well-thought-out case and the growing influence of Cathesis in the Wizengamot, she had not considered who might have filled the minor but strategic Ministerial posts or what the Black Arc might have–

–"Where's Snape?" hissed Harry.

That confirmed it in Hermione's mind. Snape would have been the main witness for the prosecution. Since he was not waiting here with them then he'd already been warned away or... "Maybe he's already in there!"

Crouch, who had been listening in without making it too obvious, strode over to the bailiff. "Your name?"

"Bland."

"That's your name? Bland? Really?"

"Bland."

"Well, 'Bland', it is illegal to obstruct the course of justice and you are allowing yourself to become involved. If you wish to remain a free man you had better ask your guards to step aside."

"My sworn duty is to follow orders," recited the officer, and the glazed look that Hermione suddenly glimpsed in his eyes sprung her to action.

"What are you doing there!" The bailiff was on his feet and advancing towards Hermione who, though she had obscured herself behind Sirius and Harry, could not completely hide the reflection off the little polished table of the faint blue flash departing through the wall.

"I was trying to lighten our spirits in this gloomy place," replied Hermione.

The man sniffed. "Shame on you for not yet being able to cast Lumos at your age, silly girl! Go and stand by the candle if you're frightened of the dark."

His two deputies laughed softly, slouched a little, then jerked stiffly to attention as a mournful siren was heard from the outer corridors.

"A Magical emergency!" gasped the bailiff. "Never thought I'd see the day when–

"–Then what is your sworn duty?" said Hermione.

"OUT! Everyone gather in the Atrium for clearance or further direction!"

In the stampede to the exit, few noticed Hermione easing open the door to the courtroom.

"Empty..." she said dully. "All gone."

She was vaguely aware of the press photographer tugging at her sleeve and his bright camera flare reflecting off a badly damaged book discarded on the floor – a little blue book whose pages were feebly fluttering.

.

—oOo—

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Author's Notes

This is my longest delay yet, and I regret it. One might suppose I have done no writing for months then rushed this chapter but the opposite is true. Most of the days during this period I applied myself but could only squeeze out a few sentences or sometimes nothing. Creativity will not be rushed and it seems I serve it at its own pace. Gradually I have reached the conclusion and will begin immediately on the next chapter. Let's hope inspiration will now flow more rapidly because I am determined to complete the book.

DriftWood1965 and bosk asked why Harry is systematically excluded in this fic. That is a consequence of making the fic very Hermione-centric and making extra use of other characters while allowing Harry to grow in prominence more gradually. Remember, we are not yet halfway into the whole story. Harry will become more important through this Book 3.

Specky Clarke wondered if Harry was dreaming in 'The Enchanting Folds' scene in his bedroom in the last chapter (71). No, he was stir-crazy and bursting for action while trapped in his room. Take it literally. Eager to help. A reckless spirit. A lot of imagination. A desire to please Hermione. All bubbling through that scene. The result is shown in this chapter, of course.

NiffytheGoldenNiffler asked if I have an overarching 8 book rough outline? Well, I did - I do - have an overall plot but it was never divided specifically into 8 books. My main objective was to have all new adventures while still retaining some of the flavour of the Hogwarts years of the original story and central characters. Then I created the Black Arc as the general nemesis/antagonist to replace Voldemort and the Death Eaters while having the global catastrophe as an additional backdrop to be dealt with. Will the main theme run to 8 books? I don't know. If not, should I extend it to 8 with a new theme and new adventures? Will I? I don't know.

Many thanks for all comments and reviews. These are most welcome and very encouraging. Let me know of any weaknesses or faults – I'm always trying to improve my writing so feedback is really useful. :)

– Hippothestrowl

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