Chapter 155: Fears and Foibles
'Christ Sirius!' Hermione cried, whirling away from the ghastly sight and grabbing madly for Sirius's arm.
He was white as the figure, his eyes locked on the nightmare image, huge and watering; his wand drooping in his fingers.
Her mind empty of sense, Hermione lunged for Sirius's other arm, grabbed it, and shook him – anything to make the figure disappear.
'How,' Sirius croaked, seemingly unable to tear his eyes from the lifeless body on the ground, 'the fuck am I supposed to make that funny?'
'Just – ' Hermione shoved him, pushing Sirius bodily away from his boggart. 'Just move away – let – '
A rising whirl clouded into Hermione's head, fogging it with the feel of shuddering, clammy cold; probing, violating fingers, and rising, bloodcurdling shrieks. Her hands freezing to a frosty clamp on Sirius's arms, Hermione's head whipped around to look over her shoulder.
The Dementor was there. But it was her boggart, it seemed. Not Sirius's.
Black robes billowing with some intangible breeze, mottled with decay but animated by soul-sucking life, the Dementor seemed enormous above Hermione – bearing down on her body. Bearing down on Sirius.
She felt suddenly tiny and useless under the screaming weight of her terror. Her vision tunnelled: Rowle and Flint on either side of her as something horrible was being pushed inside her; Sirius buckling between two Dementors, his feet dragging on flagstone floors; him keeling over on the dirt, looking like death –
And more – all at once. The wails of a woman begging to be allowed to go back to her family. The giggles of Umbridge. The final shriek of Tonks as Remus's body fell to an empty heap across the landing of a Hogwarts staircase. Molly's mourning yowls as she draped herself over Fred's lifeless body. The desperate cries for the body between Hagrid's arms to please – please – not be dead, as Voldemort's cold mirth echoed around them. Dropping into the arms of magnificent man she was terrified she'd see the end of the very next day. The hair-raising cackles of Bellatrix Lestrange as Hermione felt her body yield. And images, compiled of glimpses caught, of Sirius flat on a dirty stone floor, the hills and valleys of his ribcage, ink black tattoos scored over them – bars and cold stone; him giving up in a collapsing, bone-weary slump –
It was worse than her doors to doom. It was like an enormous void of nothing – of a horrific and inescapable end – bearing down on her. Hermione wrenched herself away, forcing her pinpoint focus on Sirius, her hands fighting for a better hold on his limp arms. He'd sunk past white to grey, his eyes glossy. Between Hermione's hands, he swayed. For that second she could see him fall: waxy skin, yellowed teeth, bony hollows at his temples, and sunken eyes. Devoid of his great, brilliant life. Clattering to the ground.
Hermione shoved. She scrabbled them away.
Sirius stumbled with her. And then there was another hand helping. Remus's hand, pulling Sirius away as Harry appeared beside Hermione.
'Just go,' Harry said, pressing Hermione forward, one hand on her, one on Sirius. Hermione blinked. Harry was white too. His hold trembling. 'It's okay – just…'
Tumbling from the room, there were more voices in Hermione's head. A huge number of them. Some she thought she knew. Not screaming, but, suddenly, whispering in her head.
Hermione swung a last look back toward the Dementor. It wasn't there. It had been replaced by the dwarfing structure of that Veil in the Department of Mysteries, its arch expanded from ceiling to the very edges of Regulus's old bedroom. The hung curtain swayed and blew out with ominous meaning. And, the image sticking fast in Hermione's spinning mind: Harry stood, lone and rigid, before it.
And then the door to Regulus's bedroom swung shut.
It took long moments after Hermione had been encircled into Sirius's gripping arms for it to feel like the world had stopped spinning. For the tumbles of terror to stop rocking her body. For her to feel she was standing upright. She found her arms gripping Sirius back, and, realising it, gripped his firm, strong, shivering body all the harder.
Sirius's breath was rapid and ragged against Hermione's forehead, his mouth and nose pressed into her hairline.
Grabbing his hand, not caring about any panic it might give her, Hermione pushed it down to press against her lower belly.
'Hasn't happened,' she breathed. 'Not going to. Monkey's fine, Sirius. I'm fine.'
Worst memories: that was her greatest fear. Sirius's wasn't. He was terrified of what could come.
Sirius didn't say anything, but his one hand cupped a hold on Hermione's shoulder, his arm cradling her head against him. The other flattened to her belly, splaying over that slight bump of his child as Hermione felt his face screwing up next to hers, his Adam's apple jumping as a shiver ran down his spine.
It was too much for Hermione – overwhelming – but, at the same time, it felt profoundly like Sirius doing his damnedest to hold onto his family. To keep them close. Keep them safe.
Keeping him tight in her arms, Hermione eased her head back to look up at Sirius.
A little of his colour had come back. His face was more pale than a cadaverous grey. His eyes had been tightly closed, but as Sirius sensed Hermione looking at him, they opened in his bowed head.
His throat lifting in a tight swallow, Sirius met her gaze. His fingers smoothed gently though Hermione's thick mop of hair.
'Sirius…'
Sirius's head lifted as he drew Hermione back against him, tucking her under his chin. This time, Hermione felt rather than saw his gulped swallow.
'I don't want to talk about it,' he muttered, his voice hoarse and clenched. Resettling his arms around her, Sirius dipped his face again, and Hermione felt the long, lingering kiss he pressed to her temple. 'Not yet, Mione, just…'
Just let him recover. Hermione filled the words in for Sirius, rubbing her hands up and down his back.
When he was ready, she'd be there to hear it. And Sirius knew that. But… To think an image like that lived inside Sirius's mind… For how long? Somehow, Hermione didn't think his worst fear, with all its gory details, was as much a new realisation for Sirius as it was for her.
The hurried, careless sounds of Regulus's bedroom door being yanked open made them pull apart a little. Hermione leant to look around Sirius's shoulder.
Remus, having flung the door back shut, slumped against the corridor wall. His head tipped back against it, his chest looking like he was trying hard to school his breathing into steady ins and outs. For the first time, in all Hermione's experiences with high-adrenaline events, she actually noticed a pulse beat in another person's neck – Remus's going a mile a minute.
Sirius cleared his throat.
'Full moon finally decided to fuck off, did it?' he asked.
To accent the pounding pulse in his neck, Remus's Adam's apple seemed to convulse.
'Yes,' he responded on a controlled exhale. 'Its replacement can get fucked though.'
'Easier to do when you're a carefree idiot, isn't it?' Sirius said, his voice flat. 'At least with my dad I could camp him up a bit. That was worth a laugh.'
Remus sucked a longer inhale of air. A small, humourless laugh accompanied his exhale.
'Carefree,' he muttered darkly to the ceiling. 'Relatively speaking.'
The door eased open again. Tonks slipped out, Teddy pinned tightly to her chest. She alone still had colour in her cheeks. Perhaps Teddy did too, but Tonks was holding his head close against her shoulder, her hand obscuring his face. With a couple fingers lifted from the baby's bum, Tonks pressed the door shut, blocking out the sound of Ginny's stuttery 'Ri-idiculus!'
She turned to Remus, whose eyes had shut tightly enough to make deep wrinkles visible around them. Wordlessly, releasing Teddy's head, Tonks rested a light hand on Remus's arm.
Remus swallowed forcibly.
'Dora…' he breathed, the sound somewhere between a protest and a warning.
Hermione glanced quickly to Sirius, wondering whether they should move away – give the couple a bit of privacy. But Sirius was watching his old friend closely, an unreadable expression on his face.
'Take him,' Tonks said quietly. Hermione looked back. Tonks was holding Teddy out, the gesture the first half of a passing over: the visual cue that, almost always, a person responded to automatically by taking whatever was being handed to them.
Remus's arms dangled at his sides.
Hermione's fingers dug into Sirius's top. This was why he was watching: Remus foraying into attempted banter with Sirius wasn't the true test.
'Remus,' Tonks tried again, voice still soft and patient, 'take your son.'
Teddy wasn't crying. Half his fist had just been inserted into his mouth, but he looked okay bit for the big, uncomprehending dark blue eyes he had on his father. Okay enough for Hermione to hope all that they had experienced in that room had gone right over Teddy's head. That the worst experience in the baby's day would be his dad's odd, momentary – Hermione fervently prayed – latency in taking him from his mother.
It was Remus as Hermione had seen him only a couple times before, and she realised it more slowly than Tonks and Sirius had. Remus was fighting with something. Some block Hermione didn't comprehend within himself, his hands repeatedly balling into fists and releasing. His arms still dangling by his sides.
It didn't take long for Hermione to assume something werewolf-related – a fear that involved at least Teddy, if not Tonks too – as the form that had replaced Remus's previous boggart. A fear worse than a hovering full moon.
Tonks didn't try to coax him verbally again. She stepped straight up to him and leant her head against his shoulder, pressing Teddy between them. Hermione saw Remus's face screw up, like he couldn't stand their contact; saw his breathing grow more rapid. Hermione's cheek found Sirius's arm and nuzzled it, willing Remus to respond.
Sirius's arms hadn't dropped from around Hermione. It was a stark difference: for all they'd likely seen similarly horrific images, Sirius had responded by gripping Hermione tight. Remus hadn't. Hermione watched the awful scene from within Sirius's possessive grasp, wanting badly for Tonks and Teddy to receive the same.
Visible over Tonks's arm, Teddy's short-cropped, curly hair lengthened, straightened into a neat combing, and grew slivered streaks into the sandy brown. He gripped a pudgy hand into the front of Remus's robes and tugged.
'Aba – dada!' Teddy uttered thinly.
Hermione's lips pinched firmly shut. She wanted, badly, to shout at Remus. To make him snap the hell out of it. This was heart-breaking.
'Look at him, Remus,' Tonks whispered.
Remus's head was still tipped against the wall, muscles tight in his neck, cheeks, and temples. Sirius's body relaxed in Hermione's arms. It seemed he'd spotted a clue she hadn't. No difference to Hermione's eyes, but, even so, as though Remus's personal business was some group conquest, she found herself following suit with a silent sigh of relief.
Remus lifted a hand to hold Teddy's little one to his chest. Tonks eased into him, her face tilting to rest on Remus's upper arm. With a deep breath, Remus opened his eyes and looked down at Teddy's bright-eyed, trusting little face. It wasn't easy for Remus. Even Hermione could tell that. His hold of his son's hand was unnaturally ginger.
Tonks whispered something inaudible that had Remus's gaze flinching away even as his other hand jumped to the small of her back. Hermione stopped watching, settling into a rest against Sirius, rubbing his back in long, appreciating strokes and stretching up to press her lips to his throat. He wouldn't push her away. Not anymore. Never again.
They had a few moments longer of quiet recovery in the corridor before the door to Regulus's old bedroom opened once more. Neville looked out at them.
'It's okay,' he said, somewhat tremulously. 'Ron's finished it off.'
At that, Hermione felt a twinge of disappointment in herself. They had had all managed to confront their fears.
It did seem, though, that not one of them had any inclination to remain anywhere near the room. Neville had stepped aside and leant himself against the wall, his skin colour a lot closer to matching the remnants of paint on his cheek than his usual cheery pink. The other three filed out promptly after him. Ron looked reasonably all right, his freckles only a little more visible than usual. Harry and Ginny both looked like they'd been witness to a bomb going off. Ginny, in Harry's jumper and with an arm around his waist, was chewing at her thumbnail, a habit Hermione knew she'd worked hard in her third year at Hogwarts to break, Ginny's usually audacious brown eyes very distant. Harry had that look he always acquired when there was some need for him to jump into a dangerous task: that quiet, serious, outwardly-aware look.
'How about,' Hermione suggested quietly, 'a pick-me-up? Hot chocolate or a butterbeer? Or… something stronger?'
They took her up on the offer, heading down together, Hermione's gaze taking comforting note of the bright and inviting appearance of her home all the way down to the kitchen. A kitchen that quickly became cosy with the scents of steeping tea and melting chocolate. No one tried very hard to begin a conversation until second helpings of chocolate pudding were doled out by a Kreacher eager to supply succour, and glasses, cups, and mugs were topped up.
'Ahm…' Tonks shot a quick glance at Remus. 'Well… this might not be… the best time to mention it…'
Mouths full of rich chocolate, hot and sweet tea, or the organ-heating effects of either butterbeer or straight whiskey, they waited for Tonks to continue.
'I've got a bit of a shopping list from Merida,' Tonks went on. 'Clothes mainly – for Nadine, 'cause it's not like anyone let her pack a suitcase… She's just been borrowing clothes and shoes. A few things for her parents…
'So, I thought… if I've got to pick up some stuff for Teddy, and if you want to get some maternity things Hermione? If anyone else needs something, we could make a day of it. Go to some safe Muggle shopping centre. Better if there are more of us with eyes out, I reckon…'
Hermione's gaze shifted to Sirius. She really did want to buy some new clothes. She was down to just the skirt and the two tops that weren't so tight around her bust they were constrictive and fought her any time she tried to stand up straight.
A visit to Muggle shops wasn't the riskiest thing she could do, but considering what Sirius had just seen his boggart turn into, Tonks's suggestion had probably come at a time when Sirius was more interested in bolting Hermione inside the house.
It certainly looked that way: Sirius had slid his plate away from him and dipped his head into hands that combed clawed fingers through his hair.
'We got away with it in Edinburgh,' Tonks went on, handing Teddy back a half-chewed biscuit. 'Brian said they didn't even seem to notice we were there, potential Tracking spell on Hermione or no. And if we go tomorrow… Even you said the Ministry had bigger things to be fretting over, Remus. Increasing security at the Ministry after that protest… hopefully doing something about the Dementors…'
Remus, having left Teddy to Tonks, was just sitting silently, staring off at nothing. He, of them all, was still very pale. He looked even older and more tired than he had when Hermione had first seen him that day. He swallowed, and just gave Tonks a small nod, not meeting her gaze.
'It'd be nice to get out for a bit of a light-hearted change, wouldn't it?' Tonks said dispiritedly, looking more toward Hermione and Ginny this time.
It would. Especially if tomorrow was as sunny as today was. Hermione eyed Sirius's depiction of head-in-hands stress. What she was more worried about were those Dementors. She didn't want Sirius going anywhere near them.
'It'd have to be somewhere south of Scotland,' she said slowly. 'And… well, if Umbridge doesn't do anything about the Dementors, we should probably pick up things we need sooner rather than later. It could get worse.' A very decent possibility it would all get worse. That they'd become even more locked up in their homes than they were now.
Reaching over, Hermione gave Sirius's wrist a small rub. He sighed and dragged his hands down over his face as he lifted his head up.
'You did say you needed new clothes,' he said to her, very unenthusiastically.
Most left for home or watch after that, and Remus went to check whether the area around their cottage was Dementor-free enough for them to return home. It was an action that set Tonks to jumpy nerves again. Handing Teddy to Sirius, she hurried after Remus when he got up to leave, caught him, and pulled him aside. Their whispered discussion looked one-sided, Tonks hissing frantically at him as Remus said barely three things.
'If he runs,' Sirius told her stolidly when Tonks sunk, shaky, back into her chair. 'I'll track him down and drag him back.'
Tonks gazed miserably back at him. Hermione watched the tears start to well in her eyes.
'Do you think he'll hand himself over to the Dementors?'
Tonks had barely whispered the words. It was more like Hermione had to lip-read the question.
Sirius jiggled Teddy on his knee. Though it was a question that stunned Hermione, it didn't appear one Sirius was surprised by.
'I doubt it,' he told Tonks. 'I don't think he's that far gone.'
It seemed Sirius's assurance meant a lot to Tonks. She sucked in a deep breath, nodded, and swept the tears from her cheeks.
'It's full moon tonight,' she mumbled, rubbing at eyes that continued to water. 'He's been taking his potion, and I'll force-feed it to him tonight if need be… But…' Tonks shuddered and hid her face in her hands. 'Wh-what do I do?' she whined. 'I-if the De-dementors come back!'
'Come here,' Sirius said.
Tonks shook her head.
'I can't leave Remus th-there alone w-with Dementors!'
'Bring him,' Sirius said levelly. 'Grab him by the wolfy scruff of his neck and portkey here.'
Tonks scrubbed the last tears from her eyes, sniffled, and lifted her head. She gave a robust nod, as though emboldened by Sirius's frank direction, then looked to Hermione.
'He'd be transformed,' she said. 'Would you… mind?'
'Not at all,' Hermione assured her.
Remus did send word that the Dementor had moved away. It sent Tonks, gripping Teddy tight, hustling home after him.
'I wish,' Hermione said, cautiously, in the kitchen that was now empty but for her and Sirius, 'I could have… done more… against my boggart.'
Sirius had been staring, face blank, across the room. He blinked, then met Hermione's eyes. He nodded a little. It took him another moment to respond.
'I hate Dementors,' he said darkly. 'If all boggarts did was look like them, that'd be fine. Instead they become the whole bloody deal.'
Sirius was silent for another moment, his jaw tight. Then, with vehemence, he went on.
'I've always thought it stupid Azkaban's a tower. It should be a pit. A deep, dark, fucking hole in the ground that sea water likes to close over so you get to feel like you're drowning physically too. It's why people go mad in there. Try feeling like every other part of you is dying while you can still, somehow, breathe.'
Sirius's hand had found his face again, pinching over his eyes. Hermione sucked at her lip. She shifted her chair over closer to his and slipped an arm around him.
It was more blatant than Sirius usually spoke about Azkaban. More, this time, like he could see Azkaban in the now rather than it being something in his past.
He dumped his butterbeer bottle on the table and clasped Hermione's arm, holding it to him.
'The higher you climb out of the pit,' he said, more quietly, 'the more terrifying the fall back into it.'
Whether his words were more self-recriminations, or more an understanding response to Hermione's self-recriminations, she wasn't sure. Both, probably.
'Yours used to be a Dementor?' she asked.
Sirius nodded.
'Got to see one in this kitchen,' he said, his voice rough and hollow. 'I couldn't ignore that boggart. It was in the liquor cabinet. Couldn't deal with it then either. Just fled and let Remus and Mad-Eye take care of it.
'Haven't any idea how to make that one funny either. You don't need Ridikulus. You need a patronus. Good joke, that: patronuses are downright impossible to conjure when you've got what's left of your soul disintegrating inside you.'
Sirius didn't object when, Hermione standing up, she moved to slide onto his lap. He waited for her to get comfortable, then slipped his arms around her.
'Know why they teach boggarts before OWL-level?' he asked, sounding less haunted.
'Because children have sillier worries,' Hermione said, and Sirius gave a humourless laugh and nod. 'It was your father… back then?'
'Mm. That one I could make funny.'
Sirius wasn't inviting further discussion of his current boggart, so Hermione didn't ask. He'd started rubbing her shoulder with his thumb.
'Harry's…' he said slowly, as though remembering it. 'The Veil?'
That's what Hermione had seen too, and she only understood it a little better than Sirius did. Or, rather, she had a few different ideas, from what more sinister personalities Harry could have, unwittingly released from behind it, to a symbol of his own weakness he'd given into – not that, on the second option, anyone was currently complaining.
For the others… Hermione knew Ginny's had been becoming possessed, like Voldemort had done to her when she was eleven. Hermione wasn't sure whether that was still Ginny's greatest fear, however. And for Neville, Hermione wondered whether his fear had to do with him accidentally killing Alecto Carrow. She'd requested Neville talk to someone when he'd gotten himself, jumpy, up to go home. He'd promised her his grandmother would make him talk, and Hermione wasn't so sure that was entirely in Neville's best interests.
'Remus's…' she said, slowly, to Sirius. Hermione could guess, but she wanted his confirmation.
'I think he saw Dora and Teddy as wolf chow, yeah,' Sirius confirmed. 'I should've shut him out of that room. He'd better take his potion,' Sirius went on, very seriously, 'otherwise full moon's going to be hell.'
Having an inkling of Sirius's mood, Hermione wasn't at all surprised when, on the way back up the stairs, Sirius lit the fire in the library with just a single passing glare at it. Pink flames, Hermione was glad to see, taking a peek. The rest of his restless energy was used to move the furniture out of Regulus's room and into Sirius's old one, doing half of it with magic, half, once his restless magic tired out, by hand. It left a much more settled Sirius in its wake.
It was back down to the kitchen, later, for a late Order meeting. Remus was, unsurprisingly, absent from the group crowding into the room, as was Tonks. Sirius had checked in, and while Tonks had sounded just as anxious as before, her message had carried the reassuring news Remus had taken his final dose of Wolfsbane Potion and had shut himself into the cellar to transform.
Bill had brought a copy of The Prophet with him. It took a while, the entire table leant towards the photo of Quidditch players – waiting eyes peeled – for the famed placard to be raised into sight by a person who'd hidden themselves beyond the frame. Seeing it sent a whoop through the Order.
'Talk of the day in our shop!' said Fred happily. 'Umbridge never learns! The moment you censor something already leaked, everyone goes out of their way to get a glimpse of it.'
'Great gossip,' said George, nodding. 'Open for all kinds of speculation. People want to know more.'
'Heard a couple indictments against the arrests of protestors too,' went on Fred. 'One bloke in particular was telling everyone who looked at him that he was at the protest outside the Ministry. I let him talk for a bit at the register, so I think that story's getting 'round.'
'"'Ee won't doin' nufin' but sittin'!"' quoted George. '"Jus' sittin'! Tellin' 'em Min'stry bounders 'em could slurp 'is beater down to the chin-ticklers!"' (Molly groaned hopelessly) '"Sittin'! And they's nabbed 'im up to the bean beggary!"'
'Bit of an uncouth sort of fellow,' Fred admitted offhandedly.
'He did buy about four dozen Canary Creams, though,' added George. 'Oh – so, by the way, Brian – and you too, Audrey, Angelina – if anyone offers you anything that looks like a custard cream, don't eat it.'
'I've…' Angelina took a moment to cool her snickers. 'I've heard the anti-Ministry murmurs all day in our department. First time in a long while anyone has spoken up. No great surprise: we didn't have a job until Umbridge herself turned up at about one in the afternoon and told us we had to make the Quidditch strike end. How in the world are we supposed to do that?' she demanded. 'We can't force the teams to play.'
'I'd keep your head down,' Brain warned her. 'They'll pin the blame for the strike on anyone in the Department of Magical Games and Sports just for the fun of it.'
'Not in our department,' said Audrey. 'We've been silent as Jobberknolls for weeks. I only heard about the protest when Percy told me – which is ridiculous, as the protest occurred on the Muggle street outside! We're the department that makes excuses for that! Instead they just sent out every single Hitter and made a scene!'
'Have they stepped up security?' Kingsley asked.
Audrey and Angelina nodded.
'More Secrecy Sensor check points,' Brian provided. 'Extra night guards. Tighter controls on visitors. And the Wizengamot have all been assigned bodyguards. Umbridge hes five.'
All eyes on him, Brian gave the side of his head a quick rub and settled in to report.
'There were no more than thirty people protesting autside the Ministry this morning,' he said. 'Thirteen arrests were made, and the rest scattered. The arrested are in the Ministry's holding cells below the courtrooms because we don't heve a full Wizengamot to be able to try them.'
'Is that how it's going to stay?' Sirius asked.
'I hope so,' Brian answered him. 'Umbridge has played fast and loose with some laws, but so far she's stuck to Ministry and Wizengamot bylaws.'
Elphias cleared his throat, but Arthur got there first.
'It's easier to unseat her if she contravenes those,' he said, and Elphias cleared his throat again, and just nodded.
'Any luck finding Cornfoot?' asked Kingsley.
'No,' said Sturgis. 'He'd better have sense enough not to go home, though,' he added. 'He'd be walking into an ambush.'
'It's the Hitters staking out his house,' said Katie. 'One inside the house, another two outside it.'
'Get another watch on Goyle's place,' Brian advised. 'They think Cornfoot will turn up there – and I'm starting to think it's because he has a reason to.'
'His family?' Kingsley checked, and Brian nodded.
'I'm thinking that's where they're being held,' Brian confirmed. 'Just my suspicion.
'After today,' Brian went on as Kingsley added the watch, 'it's quite possible Cornfoot won't be sentenced with anything but being forced to serve in the Wizengamot again. The arguments over who has a better relative to gooi into his vacant seat have gotten nasty. Rowle and Orpington even called in Carrow to try to convince Umbridge to just choose him.'
'And?' Kingsley prompted.
A wry expression filled Brian's face.
'Not a chance,' he said flatly. 'The man's aut searching the jungle for the Grootslang.'
There was a single moment where Kingsley's eyebrows contracted into a confused frown.
Brian lifted a lopsided smile.
'He's hopped on the beck of the speedie bakkie and is on his way to the malhuis.'
Hermione could take a guess as to what that might mean. Brian chuckled.
'He's lost his marbles,' Bill explained, spoiling Brian's fun.
'Lost 'em completely,' Brian confirmed. 'Doesn't know who killed his sister, so he's decided to blame it on, if you'll excuse me, Hermione, "the Mudblood". Anyone correct me if I'm wrong, but when he and his sister served as professors at your school, he was not respected by the teachers, pupils, and parents?'
Seamus snorted. Ginny gave Brian a look of wide-eyed significance.
'We feared them,' Neville offered.
Brian gave a short nod.
'Carrow has decided he and his sister were some of the best teachers Hogwarts has ever had, and respected as such by everyone of a class to attend. He thinks the only people who could care to raise a wand against him or Alecto are the outsiders: Muggles and Muggle-borns.'
Hermione spotted Sirius's wary stare. She tried to suppress a shudder.
Brian went on to tell them he had no idea what Umbridge was planning to do about the Dementors, and that, beyond gathering evidence for trials that couldn't happen, members of their high court, Brian included, were being tasked with walking the halls to keep a visible and commanding presence in the Ministry. Both tasks, as Audrey readily pointed out, that weren't their jobs.
It was with talk about Wiseman Hugh and the Dragon Pox outbreak that the suggestion to restart the Quibbler was raised – and not by Hermione. Lee brought it up.
'If we're waiting for an opportunity to take the risk,' said George, 'now's a solid time for it.'
'With a Wizengamot paralysed,' Minerva said significantly, 'we are protected.'
Protected from Azkaban – until, Hermione added silently, Cornfoot was found.
'And if we don't do anything now,' Sturgis said, 'we will continue having this stupid debate for months.
'How 'bout we just start with confirming what everyone's suspecting?' he went on, irked. 'This Wiseman Hugh's deluded followers are the only ones trying to report the real news. And they're thick as bricks.'
'I agree with Sturgis,' Hermione said. 'It would get people to start listening to us again, if we tell them the truth now they're all getting a sense of it. I'm happy to meet with Skeeter,' she offered, looking to Kingsley, 'and make sure she writes only the articles that address what the public are already talking about.'
Gradually, they muddled towards a decision on it. In the end, the motion was passed.
'Meet with Skeeter and the Lovegoods tomorrow morning,' Kingsley ordered Hermione and, taking the list of allowed topics for articles – those things that wouldn't reveal they had a spy – Hermione agreed.