Alright, moving forward at last. You'll find this chapter condenses a lot of the information that Rowling spread out over a few chapters, but I hopefully brought a new side to it with how that information is brought to the trio.

You'll be happy to know I've been working on several chapters at the moment, so I can promise that you'll have at least two more chapters this month. Additionally, I am almost ready to publish the other story I have had on backlog. I've made the decision to begin a story during Harry's 3rd year. More on that later, but that story will go all the way from 3rd year to 7th year. It will be a big undertaking, but I'm very excited for it as well.

For those wondering about the delay, I've been busy at home with a very pregnant wife. Things are slowing down again so that only means more writing :)

As always, it all belongs to Rowling.

Chapter Eighteen: Where Werewolves Fear to Tread

"Harry, relax; pacing around the living room isn't going to bring Kreacher back any sooner," said Hermione on the third evening since Kreacher had left, her eyes peering over the top of her book. She was currently sprawled over the length of the couch, her back propped up with several pillows and her legs bent in a soft angle with the book resting against the top of her thighs.

"I don't understand it," said Harry, slumping down into the chair beside her. "I just assumed that if he could escape a cave full of Inferi, tracking 'Dung down shouldn't be very difficult."

"We don't know where Fletcher is, Harry; finding him will take time," she said, closing her book. "And he'll need to be careful too. He can't just grab him in the middle of Diagon Alley, can he? Not with Death Eaters roaming about."

"I know, I know," said Harry with a deflated voice. "I'm just sick of being cooped up in here with no other leads. I need to be doing something."

"This was never going to be like our other adventures, you know; this one is going to take time."

"I hope Ron gets back soon," said Harry, his eyes darting to the hallway entry. "He's been gone for a couple hours."

"He'll be fine," said Hermione, "he Disapparated directly to the Burrow. He has the cloak, and you gave him the piece of parchment, right?" Harry nodded. The plan was to give the parchment containing the address of Grimmauld Place to Mr. Weasley so that he could follow Ron back from the Burrow and give an update on what was going on. It also gave them a contact to the rest of the Order.

"Then all we can do is wait," said Hermione. She then opened The Tales of Beedle the Bard again and started to read.

"Have you found anything from the book," asked Harry after a few minutes of silence. Hermione shook her head and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"No," she said disappointingly. "As far as I can tell, it's nothing but cautionary tales for children. The Warlock's Hairy Heart has some semblance to Horcruxes; the warlock views the act of falling in love as a vulnerability, so he locks away his heart. But so far, that's the only thing I've found. I'm sure that Dumbledore gave this to me to help, but I don't know what I'm supposed to find."

"You'll figure it out," said Harry earnestly. "You always do." She smiled at him broadly before turning the page. As they sat there in silence, Harry couldn't help but observe Hermione as she read. Throughout their time at Hogwarts, she had always appeared most at ease when reading a book and it was no different now. It gave Harry a small portion of comfort to know at least one thing in her life hadn't been disrupted with all the turmoil. He watched as she once more brushed aside the stubborn strand of hair that obscured her vision and tucked it behind her ear. He watched her for several minutes and found his own unease slipping away and with it, the burdensome thoughts of Kreacher's whereabouts. He knew he shouldn't continue to stare like he did, but each attempt to avert his eyes elsewhere failed as they darted back to her face and her subtly moving lips.

"Harry, you're staring," said Hermione giving him a quick one-eyed glance. "Is there something on your mind?" Harry quickly averted his eyes to the floor and shook his head.

"Harry, I know when you're trying to avoid answering," she said, closing her book. She shifted on the couch into a sitting position, though her back still rested upon the arm of the couch.

"It's just, well, it's silly," said Harry, not sure what to say.

"Well, go on then," she encouragingly. "I'll judge whether or not it's silly."

"I guess, given everything that's happened—I'm just really glad some things haven't changed."

"What do you mean?"

"You for instance," he said, "laying on the couch with a book propped open and studying and…looking peaceful. For a moment it felt like I was in the Gryffindor Common Room. I'm just glad something in your life is still the same."

"Harry, that's not silly at all," she said while shuffling to the end of the couch nearest Harry. "It's actually quite sweet." He was surprised to see how radiant her smile was in that moment.

"I suppose," said Harry, shrugging. "I guess I was just feeling guilty knowing that you won't be Head Girl this year. No one deserves it more; seeing you just now at least made me feel like you hadn't lost everything and I feel guilty for being comforted by that."

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, Harry," she said, her smile fading a bit. "I plan to go back after this is all over, and don't think I won't be dragging you and Ron along with me."

"I'm not sure I could go back, Hermione," he said quietly. "Can you imagine what it would be like for me? I'd never have a moment of peace."

"I'll make sure you have peace," she said. "I couldn't go back without you, Harry. Promise me you'll come with me?" Harry felt his stomach twist. He already knew he'd break one promise before the end. He didn't want to make another.

"Can I at least think about it?"

"Yes," she responded with a slim but content smile. "But know that I won't take no for an answer."

"Fair enough," said Harry, glad for the reprieve but guilty all the same. It had never felt right to keep anything from her. Indeed, he started to understand Dumbledore more; how could he tell her that he had to die for Voldemort to be finished?

"Have you ever read these tales, Harry," she asked after a moment.

"I'm like you, Hermione; I was raised Muggle."

"It was rhetorical, Harry," she said, patting the seat cushion beside her. "Come on, we can read the next one together. Besides, maybe two of us might figure out just what Dumbledore wanted us to know." Harry doubted very much that he'd find anything Hermione hadn't, but he nodded and took a seat next to her. The book was small, leather-bound and well-worn. Hermione opened the book again, placing it between them.

"Which ones have you already read," he asked.

"I've read them all at least once," said Hermione as she quickly thumbed through several pages. "Babbitty Rabbitty, the Hopping Pot, and the Fountain of Fair Fortune, can all be ignored I think—none of them contain anything remotely useful other than simply being what they are; cautionary tales. The Warlock's Hairy Heart, as I just shared, has parallels to Voldemort and his Horcruxes, but the purpose of the story is that love is not vulnerability, but rather, it is the essence of humanity. Truthfully, it only leaves one story; The Tale of the Three Brothers." Harry caught her tone at the end of her summary.

"Sounds like you think the last story is a bit more outlandish than the others," said Harry.

"It's the sort of thing that Luna or her father would believe is based on fact," she said. "And yet, like the Warlock's tale, it's ultimately about outsmarting death, which I can't deny has the same similar parallel to Voldemort's goal."

"Well, let's take a look at it," said Harry. Hermione read the tale aloud as Harry followed along. Once or twice he found his attention waver momentarily as his eyes would shift from the words on the page to the soft skin of Hermione's hands when she would flip a page. He also found himself taking short glances at her face, some of which was obscured beneath the same stubborn strand of hair that Hermione appeared to perpetually tuck behind her ear without thought. Most notable was the returning sense of comfort.

"Well," said Hermione, finishing the story. "What do you think?"

"Hard to imagine that those sorts of magical items could exist," said Harry. "An unbeatable wand? Can't say I wouldn't object to having one..."

"I've never been so perplexed in my life, Harry," she said shutting the book. "Just what does Dumbledore want us to know?"

"It might not be obvious until the time is right," said Harry. "He said the same thing to me about the Snitch."

"Why couldn't he just tell you, Harry?"

"I dunno," he said, shaking his head. If he was honest with himself, he too was frustrated by the lack of direction the headmaster had given. "We honestly ran out of time in the memory, but Dumbledore's always been like that—it's the teacher in him—he always wanted me to figure out the big things on my own."

"Harry, this isn't a classroom assignment—this is your life—our life at stake. We don't get this right…"

"I know," he said. "We will—that's why you're here; you've never let me down before. You'll make sure we get it—"

Harry didn't finish his sentence though as a sharp pain erupted from within his forehead. He reached up instinctively, his hand pressing on his scar as he held his eyes tightly shut.

"Gregorovitch," he said, looking down at the terrorized woman. She began to speak rapidly in her native German tongue. He had no time for such nonsense.

"I want Gregorovitch." The woman cried and shook her head.

"I know him not," she pleaded. "He no live here!"

He drew his wand.

"Do not lie to Lord Voldemort; where is he?"

"I know not, I know not!"

He raised his wand and pointed to the pitiful sight before him.

"It is unwise to test Lord Voldemort's patience. Answer me and you shall receive mercy; where is Gregorovitch?" He watched as two young children came running in to the hall. He felt excitement flood his veins as he eyed each of the children. The mother ran between them, her arms outstretched in the attempt to shield them. He uttered the incantation and there was a flash of green light—

"Harry!"

Harry opened his eyes; Hermione's face looked down upon him, inches from his own. Glancing quickly he found she had wrapped him in her arms as his head rested where she had been seated moments ago. As the room came back into focus, he discovered they were no longer alone. Ron stood at the back of the couch overlooking both he and Hermione. Arthur Weasley and Remus Lupin stood nearby, both gripping the backs of chairs behind Hermione. They both carried worried looks.

"What did you see, Harry," she asked.

"It was nothing," said Harry, quickly.

"Don't you dare," she said. "I know you saw something. Was he trying to get in again?"

"No," said Harry in a defeated tone. "It was different this time—it was passive. It didn't happen at all last year and I don't understand why it's happening now."

"You need to close your mind, Harry," she said. He could see the worry in her eyes.

"I don't know how, Hermione," said Harry. "I didn't exactly have a good teacher."

"I'm sure you can find a book on Occlumency here in the library," said Remus. "Still, I thought Dumbledore believed that the Dark Lord would not try to gain access to Harry's mind again after the events within the Department of Mysteries."

"We can't take that chance," said Hermione. Harry nodded and gave his quiet thanks before sitting up again.

"I wasn't expecting you, Remus," said Harry.

"Disappointed," he asked.

"No," said Harry quickly. "I'm more curious as to why you referred to him as the 'Dark Lord' and not—"

"No," shouted Remus. "Don't say the name—I'm sure it's okay here since the house in under the Fidelius, but you need to break that habit."

"But why," asked Harry

"The name has been jinxed," said Arthur. "Ministry has put a trace on it—under You-Know-Who's orders most likely. They can instantly track anyone who uses that name." Harry and Hermione gave each other a knowing glance.

"So that's how they followed us," said Hermione. "And that's probably why there are Death Eaters outside—they know someone in the area is using his name, but because of the Fidelius Charm, they can't find us."

"You were followed," asked Remus.

"Yeah, the night of the attack," said Ron. "We were waiting out Harry's potion in a diner when two Death Eaters—Rowle and Dolohov—followed us in. If Harry hadn't noticed their wands they very well might have got us before we could react."

"Makes sense," said Hermione. "What better way to find Order Members or those who stand against him. We are the ones most likely to use the name."

"Precisely," said Arthur. Harry turned to Ron.

"Why'd it take so long to return?"

"We had to be careful as we've been watched continuously," said Arthur. "There's also a pair of Death Eaters nearby—new recruits judging by how poorly they conceal themselves. We took the liberty of placing them under a Confundus Charm and sent them on their way."

"One less thing to worry about, thank you," said Harry.

"You still haven't answered my question, Harry," interrupted Hermione, her eyes squinting suspiciously.

"I didn't see much," admitted Harry. "He's not in the country, though. He was with a woman who spoke German, I think. He kept asking for Gregorovitch. She didn't know where he was…there were children too…" No one needed Harry to finish.

"So he's after wand makers," said Remus breaking the silence.

"Why's You-Know-Who after a wand maker," asked Ron. "Didn't they already capture Ollivander?"

"We don't know for certain he's been captured," said Remus. "But he's been gone for considerable time now."

"It's because our wands are brothers," said Harry. "He borrowed Malfoy's the night we left the Dursley's. It didn't work for him, so maybe he's looking to have Ollivander or Gregorovitch to make him a new one."

"Your wands are brothers," asked Remus, giving his first curious glance of the evening.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Ollivander told me when it chose me. We share feathers from the same Phoenix—Fawkes specifically—Dumbledore told me."

"I see," said Remus. "They don't work properly when their owners confront each other, is that correct?"

"That's how Dumbledore explained it."

"We'll put the Order on lookout for the other well-known wand makers then," said Arthur. "Anonymous tip, of course," he added giving Harry a quick wink.

"So what's been happening," asked Harry, looking between Arthur and Remus.

"Well, I won't lie to you that if it hadn't been for Kingsley's warning, we'd have fared much worse after you three left," said Remus. "Mixture of Death Eaters and Ministry people, but for all intents and purposes they're the same thing now."

"And Scrimgeour," asked Harry, not too sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Gone," said Arthur sadly, "tortured considerably by the sounds of it before the deed was done. If the rumors are true, You-Know-Who saw to it personally. He was looking for your whereabouts, Harry, and if that's the case, he didn't give you away."

Harry could never pretend that he liked Scrimgeour. Still, he felt a wave of gratitude to the now deceased Minister. In the end, he was an Auror to the core.

"We were questioned for hours," Arthur continued. "Nothing surprising, mind you; they were very obvious who they were looking for." Arthur's eyes met Harry's.

"But surely they couldn't have been that direct, even if You-Know-Who's got people in the top positions at the ministry," said Hermione. "I mean, wouldn't they find that behavior unusual at the least?"

"Ah, well," said Remus, pulling out a folded copy of the Daily Prophet. He hesitated for a moment, and then handed it to Harry. "This is why most people aren't questioning it."

Harry shook the paper open and immediately caught the headline. A large photograph featuring himself filled the paper with flashing words over it:

WANTED FOR QUESTIONING: SUSPECT IN THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

Harry felt his stomach drop as he sunk into the couch further. He dropped the paper onto the living room table. Hermione sat down beside him as she briefly placed a hand over his before reaching the paper and reading.

"This is outrageous," said Hermione, tossing the paper to the side. "How stupid and gullible are people? With a known history of fabricating stories for personal attention, combined with an unstable mental state from several tragic life events brings into question the accuracy of his statements regarding the celebrated Headmaster's death…We at the Daily Prophet believe such testimony should be considered cautiously by our readers… wasn't Harry and Dumbledore vindicated already? Does the wizarding populace have that short of memories? Harry loved Dumbledore…"

"It's mental," said Ron, shaking his head.

"We know, Hermione," said Arthur. "The transition has been smooth and near silent. Most are not even aware that the ministry has been infiltrated and completely taken over from within."

"That's right," said Remus. "As far as the public is aware, Rufus handed in his silent resignation and was replaced by Pius Thicknesse. We first suspected Imperius Curse, but we now have information to suggest he's acting completely on his own."

"Even so, it's not gone as smooth as He would like it to be," continued Remus. "There are whispers among many both within and outside the Ministry, but it doesn't matter; the point is they only whisper. They are too afraid to be open and defiant because they don't know who to trust. You-Know-Who didn't make it this far last time. And we know why that is."

"Dumbledore," said Harry, his voice barely audible and still feeling quick sick to his stomach.

"It's brilliant in its simplicity," said Arthur. "They pin the blame on you—the Boy-Who-Lived—the obvious symbol and rallying point for any resistance in the absence of Dumbledore. He's effectively sown doubt and fear into many who would have defended you."

"And it gets worse, I'm afraid," said Remus, pointing to the heavily abused paper beside Hermione. "Page two." Hermione reached for the paper again and turned the page. After a few moments of watching her eyes dart back and forth while shrinking into a distasteful glare, Harry was sure the news wouldn't be good.

"In a bold move, the Ministry seeks to understand how 'Muggle-borns' have attained their magical abilities. Research from within the Department of Mysteries reveals magic can only be passed from person to person when Wizards reproduce. It is therefore theorized that where no proven Wizarding ancestry is present, Muggle-borns are likely to have obtained their magical abilities by theft or force. The exact method of how this phenomenon is achieved is still under much research." Hermione scowled as she turned the page once more with a furious flick, tearing a portion of the page. "The Ministry extends an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for evaluation by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission." The group fell into momentary silent.

"This can't be happening," said Ron. "I mean, how are they supposed to have stolen magic? It's completely mental; if you could steal magic, why wouldn't Squibs do the same?"

"It is happening, Ron," said Arthur. "I've watched them come into the Ministry. It isn't a pretty sight." Ron looked over at Hermione.

"Dad, what if we were to swear Hermione's part of our family? I'll tell everyone Hermione's my cousin—"

"Thank you, Ron, but there isn't any point, is there?"

"It'll be easy," continued Ron, undeterred. "I'll teach you my family tree so you can answer anything anyone asks you."

"Ron, you're forgetting something very important," said Hermione.

"What?"

"You two are well-known friends of Harry Potter," said Remus with a slight smile. "Even if the commission where to believe Hermione was part of your family, it wouldn't do any good. They aren't interested in preserving Muggle-borns. It's just a public rallying piece to turn against them. And it's working; Muggle-borns are being turned in at an alarming rate."

"And as Remus pointed out," interjected Arthur, "Hermione, as well as yourself, are well-known friends to Harry. Anyone associated to Harry will not receive any mercy under this regime. And don't forget, you're at home, recovering from Spattergroit."

"What about Hogwarts," asked Hermione. "I assume since the Ministry is under his control, I take it so is the castle?"

"Hogwarts is now compulsory attendance, but only those who have had their blood status confirmed are allowed to attend," acknowledged Remus with a nod. "That's never happened before as far as I'm aware; Hogwarts has always been optional. Parents were allowed to send their children to another school or instruct at home."

"So not only will the Muggle-borns be weeded out of magical society, but Hogwarts will be used to further substantiate the claim of pureblood supremacy," said Hermione, clearly disgusted.

"That's exactly what he's doing," agreed Arthur. "I'm glad I only have one child going to Hogwarts this year; I'd keep her home but it would actually be more dangerous to do so. I take some comfort in knowing she's in Gryffindor where McGonagall will look after her and the others."

"Isn't she the Headmaster now," asked Harry.

"Afraid not," said Arthur sadly. "Severus Snape has been appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"Bloody hell," shouted Ron. "They put him in charge of the school? Dad it's not safe for Ginny to go there!"

"It's not safe anywhere, Ron," said Arthur. "But it's safer for her to be at the school than it would be to keep her home. I would come under severe scrutiny at the Ministry, lose my job, and probably worse. I don't like it any more than you do, but I can do more good within the Ministry than outside it. Ginny is as protected as we can hope for, given how things are shaping up to be."

"Which brings us to the reason of my tagging along," said Remus. "Harry, as the Order understands it, you, Ron, and Hermione, are on a mission for Dumbledore. Is that right?"

"Yes, it is," said Harry, cautiously. "I can't tell you what it is though, I'm sorry."

"I figured as much," said Remus, looking thoroughly put-out. "Would you consider letting me accompany you three? I wouldn't need to know the details."

"You don't know how tempting the offer is, Remus," said Harry, glancing to the hopeful looks of Ron and the surprisingly suspicious look Hermione was giving Remus. "But I don't see any way of you remaining ignorant of our quest if you tag along." Hermione's scrutiny became obvious when she spoke next.

"What about Tonks?"

"I've discussed it with her," said Remus, looking uneasy. "She'll be safe at her parent's place, and she doesn't particularly like it, but she also understands my desire to do what I can to help you." He looked at Harry with a haunted expression.

"I failed your parents once, Harry," he said somberly. "I failed you too. I failed you and Sirius the night Peter escaped; you lost your one chance to live in a home that should never have been denied to you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Remus, I really do," said Harry, picking up suddenly on Hermione's suspicion. "But why is Tonks hiding at her parent's place? You two are married. And she's an Order member; she's not one to go into hiding willingly." Remus turned white for a moment before taking a deep breath and continued speaking.

"Tonks is in hiding," he said, his voice low and almost hollow, "because she is pregnant."

"That's wonderful news," said Hermione.

"Congratulations," said Harry.

"Alright," said Ron, clapping him on the back. "A baby cub; well done." The remaining color in Remus' face drained. Arthur dropped his head to hands. Ron realized what he'd done and immediately began to apologize.

"Remus, I didn't mean—"

"It's, it's alright," he said, waving Ron away. "Won't know until the baby is born, but…"

"Is everything, alright, between you and Tonks," asked Hermione tepidly.

"Yes, things are fine between Tonks and me," said Remus, heavily, "but, I never should have married Tonks. I went against my better judgement. I've put her and her family in danger, and now, the child…I'm sure the child will be just like me."

"But you love her, don't you," asked Hermione.

"That's irrelevant," he said. "You three don't understand. You've only ever seen me at Hogwarts, or within the Order; outside, in the real world, I'm a monster. They try to hide it, Tonks' parents, but I can see it when they let their guard down. No parent wants their daughter wed to a full-fledged beast. I've made her, and now a child, an outcast to our society. It is the most irresponsible thing I have ever done, and trust me; I've done plenty of irresponsible things in my lifetime to know this takes the prize."

"Remus," said Harry, "I can't pretend to know how difficult it's been for you, but I think you're forgetting something, something deep down inside you know to be right, but refuse to believe it." Remus opened his mouth to interject, but Harry held his hand up.

"Dumbledore once said that a time would come when we would all have to choose between doing what is right, and what is easy. I know in your mind with all you've experienced tells you the right thing to do is separate yourself from Tonks, but it's actually the easy route. Say you come with us; what happens if you die?"

"Harry, in all likelihood that fate awaits us all in this war" said Remus wearily, as though he'd heard this argument several times before.

"Yeah, but you're only thinking about what happens to you," said Harry. "What happens to Tonks? What happens to your child? What happens when they ask about their dad? What will people tell them?"

"Harry," began Remus, his face grimacing, but Harry did not relent.

"What good is fighting and winning this war against pureblood supremacy if people like you aren't accepted," asked Harry, anger rising in his voice for the first time. "This is your chance to prove that Werewolves can live normal, healthy, happy lives within society. You want to find something worth fighting for? It is right in front of you, Remus, and I think Sirius and my dad would have told you the same thing. More importantly, it is what Tonks would like to have, isn't it?"

Remus stared at Harry, his eyes watering. Harry chose his next words carefully.

"I know you're no coward, Remus; but pulling yourself away from Tonks and your unborn child to chase us halfway around the country isn't exactly Gryffindor, is it?"

"You're right," he said, his voice catching as he hastily rubbed his eyes. "You're absolutely right; I'm being foolish. I've spent so much of my life as an outcast to our society that I can hardly imagine things getting better, but that's exactly what we're fighting for."

Hermione beamed at Harry.

"None-the-less," continued Remus, his spirits visibly lifted, "what of you three? Is there truly no room in this operation for me or Arthur to help?"

"I'm sorry, Remus," said Harry, shaking his head. "If Dumbledore didn't tell you what we're doing, then I don't think I can either. I know the decision is ultimately mine now, but I trust Dumbledore's wisdom that what we're doing has to be kept between us. Failure isn't an option. We don't get this right, we lose—"

The sudden loud pop of Kreacher Apparating onto the living room table disrupted them. More astounding, however, was the balled-up heap of clothing on the floor.

"Get yer hands off'a me, ya bleedin' 'ouse-elf," barked Mundungus. His clothes were in shambles and smelled strongly of Firewhiskey.

"Harry, what's going on," asked Remus, looking from the triumphant Kreacher to the very harassed Mundungus.

"Mundungus has some explaining to do," said Harry simply, with a smile, his wand already pointing at the thief's chest.

"I bloody panicked, alright," pleaded 'Dung, his hands held in front of his face while Kreacher held him in an invisible restraint. "I never wanted to be a part o' the mission."

"I didn't bring you here to talk about Mad-Eye, 'Dung," said Harry. "We have something more important to discuss."