A/N: Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing! BTW, I know some people have
been talking about the lack of fluffiness in the last chapter...the plot's
kinda developing at this point, so yeah. I promise there'll be some in the
next chapter, though!
Disclaimer: Most everything's J.K. Rowling's. The name 'Treno' is from Squaresoft's Final Fantasy 9, but in this story, it's a jenky old town instead of an upper-crust type place. Everything else is mine.
Say hello to the girl that I am
You're gonna have to see through my perspective
I need to make mistakes just to learn who I am
And I don't wanna be so damn protected
There must be another way
Cause I believe in taking chances
But who am I to say
What a girl is to do
God, I need some answers
What am I to do with my life
How am I supposed to know what's right?
I can't help the way I feel
But my life has been so overprotected
-'Overprotected,' Britney Spears ::smirk::
The town they landed in was dark and imposing, with buildings that were obviously once very grand, now derelict and unused. Dead trees waved their skinny limbs feebly, as if trying to warn them. The sun was a strange beam of light in a town that was obviously full of the dark. Ron and Hermione could feel people's eyes on them, staring at them from slits in their drapes...it looked like an unfriendly place.
"This is where they've been chased to, isn't it?" Hermione asked. Her entire body was tensed, and her hand was stuck into the pocket of her jacket, where her wand was.
"Yeah, how'd you know?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm not an idiot, Ron...I know what's happening here even if I'm staying in the States." She averted her eyes from a man sitting on the steps of his front porch, his lips curled in a sneer. "This is Treno, isn't it? Reminds me of that story by Poe, 'The Fall of the House of Usher.'"
"Let's just hope we don't meet a Roderick along the way," he interjected. "We're supposed to meet our contact here...he's one of the last double agents working for the Ministry. It took me a while to get his group to let him talk. " They stopped in front of a seemingly unoccupied manor. "Keep alert."
"No shit, Sherlock." She clutched her robes a little more tightly around her as the wind howled towards them. Her eyes scanned the horizon, watching for the familiar black, hooded robes of the Death Eaters.
After about half an hour, a tall, broad man emerged from the old building behind them. "That building needs to be demolished," he sighed.
"Pity," replied Hermione. "It should be preserved as a national treasure." Ron's face twisted into one of disbelief.
"How'd you know what to say, Herm-"
"Herm-own-ninny. It is good to see you again." Viktor Krum's black eyes stared at the both of them from underneath his hood.
"YOU're our contact?" Ron's voice was an angry whisper. "I should have known, you came from Durmstrang...school for the Dark Arts, I knew all along you weren't trustworthy-" Viktor scowled at him.
"If I vasn't trustvorthy, I vouldn't be speaking to you." He turned abruptly. "Follow me."
**********
The building they had both assumed was abandoned and rotting was, in actuality, a gigantic palacial estate. It was gloomy, yet still elegant. Black velvet drapes hung from the windows. An old tapestry depicting scenes from Dante's 'Inferno' hung from one of the walls, while the others were wallpapered with gray tones. The furniture was overstuffed, made of the same black velvet as the draperies. Their footsteps were muffled on the black-carpeted floor. There was a black marble fireplace as well, with a larger version of the waterproof bluebell flame crackling inside. Sets of swords and spears were framed and hanging from the walls too. A grandfather clock stood in a corner, ticking ominously.
"You live here?" spat Ron. "Doesn't it make you depressed?"
"It's very comfortable," interjected Hermione, eager to step on his rude tirade. "It was when I stayed here during winter vacation fifth year." She watched in satisfaction as he shut up, his ears turning red. He settled for muttering angrily to himself.
"Vell, my family kept this home to stay in during the winter...Bulgaria isn't exactly ze best place to be at that time. I find zis place very com- for-ta-ble." He sounded out the word carefully. "Please, zit down." Ron gave him a suspicious glare and remained standing. Hermione, however, took a seat next to him on the sofa.
"Did you really join the Death Eaters?"
"Vell...yes, I did." Ron looked smug at Hermione's shocked expression. "But it vasn't what you think, Herm-own-ninny. I was vorking vith Dumbledore and the British Ministry of Magic, and they needed a double agent. Their last one had veen found out and assasinated, so I volunteered for the job."
"How do we know you're to be trusted?" At Ron's question, Hermione remained silent. It was a sensible thing to ask, after all.
"You don't. And I don't know that you vill honor our agreement and keep me anonymous. That's ze danger of it all." The broad-shouldered man stood abruptly, clearly agitated. "That's why we must make zis as quick as possible."
"That's fine with me," replied Ron. "Why did the remainder of the Death Eaters take Treno as their stronghold?" His quill was again poised over some parchment, but this time Hermione was there to see it in the flesh.
"Vell, Treno was already hometown to many Dark allies...Lord Voldemort himself lived here, before launching the attack that almost killed Harry Potter when he was a baby. So anyvay, there are obviously many people that are sympathetic towards the cause."
Ron fixed his eyes on his subject, ready for the next question. "Why do you think the Ministry hasn't taken any measures towards uprooting the town when it's obviously evil?"
"Oh, I vouldn't say it's evil...just easily influenced. The people here were once very rich, and Voldemort promised them that he vould restore their powers if they helped him."
The only sounds in the room for the next twenty minutes were the muted voices of Ron and Viktor, as well as the scratching of the quill. Ron's brash attitude towards the former Bulgarian Seeker wasn't entirely misplaced, as he WAS still technically a Death Eater.
"That's it, I suppose. I'm going to turn this stuff in to the Ministry before publishing it…" He carefully avoided Viktor's eye at his next statement. "Thanks for talking to me."
"You're velcome, Mr. Weasley." As he shook both Ron and Hermione's hands, his sleeve slipped a little, the garish Dark Mark now pale and white, was still clearly etched into his arm. "I suggest you go now, before anyvone gets suspicious."
*********
The two didn't say much as they headed back to Diagon Alley. Instead of heading back to the Prophet's HQ, Ron steered the two of them back to the road leading to the U.K.-U.S. Apparition Point.
"Sorry I couldn't help you with the writing and stuff," he commented, hands stuffed into the pockets of his robes.
"It's alright…at least I got to see a professional reporter in action." She gave him a rare smile, and he felt all the force of the simple compliment. When the farmhouse came into view, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. There was a long queue of people, all impatient, some yelling. Some harassed-looking Ministry members were holding them at bay. "What's going on?" Hermione asked, catching a guard by his sleeve.
"Emergency…the American Minister's just been assasinated. They think the person who did it came through here, and so the Point's shut down." Hermione swore under her breath.
"How am I supposed to get home then?"
"Sorry, missy, but that's not my concern." He gave an apologetic look and sauntered away.
"'Not my concern,' my arse…" She looked back to see Ron watching her amusedly. "What?"
"Nothing. I've just never heard you curse before."
"I've heard you curse more times than I can remember."
"Damn straight." He smiled at her comment ("Ron, don't swear!") before continuing. "Seriously though, d'you have a place to stay?"
"Erm, no, but I suppose I can room with Ginny for a night or two…"
"She lives with Harry."
"What does your mum think about it?" Somehow Hermione didn't think that the conservative Mrs. Weasley would approve of her only daughter living with a man, even if it WAS Harry.
"They're already getting married, what can she say?" He shrugged. "I guess she resigned herself to it…and mostly everyone else lived with their signifigant others before getting married."
"Did you?" Ron didn't answer at first, but when he did his answer was brief.
"No."
"Why not?" She pressed. "I bet Kate would if you asked her to."
"What does my secretary have to do with anything?"
"I didn't say she did…you're the one who's making those assumptions." Ron glared at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the horizon.
"So where are you going to stay?"
"The Leaky Cauldron, most likely…or I guess I could go back to Treno and ask Viktor." Ron's face grew darker, his scowl more evident.
"That smarmy git? You must be out of your mind!" She looked nonchalant beside his stewing fury.
"I assure you, Ron…I'm perfectly sane." She smiled at him, increasing the speed of her gait until he had to almost run to catch up to her.
"Okay, I get it. You suddenly can't stand to be close to me." His face was totally unreadable.
"It's not that...I just don't like to hear one of my friends slandered like that."
"You consider that...that...THING a friend?"
"I've had enough." She began to run-walk again.
"Alright, alright!" He put on a burst of speed and easily caught up with her. He swerved to the left, blocking her path and grabbing her by the shoulders so she would stay put. "Listen, what I was trying to get to is...you can always just stay with me."
A/N: Next chapter is full of fluff, I warn you!
Disclaimer: Most everything's J.K. Rowling's. The name 'Treno' is from Squaresoft's Final Fantasy 9, but in this story, it's a jenky old town instead of an upper-crust type place. Everything else is mine.
Say hello to the girl that I am
You're gonna have to see through my perspective
I need to make mistakes just to learn who I am
And I don't wanna be so damn protected
There must be another way
Cause I believe in taking chances
But who am I to say
What a girl is to do
God, I need some answers
What am I to do with my life
How am I supposed to know what's right?
I can't help the way I feel
But my life has been so overprotected
-'Overprotected,' Britney Spears ::smirk::
The town they landed in was dark and imposing, with buildings that were obviously once very grand, now derelict and unused. Dead trees waved their skinny limbs feebly, as if trying to warn them. The sun was a strange beam of light in a town that was obviously full of the dark. Ron and Hermione could feel people's eyes on them, staring at them from slits in their drapes...it looked like an unfriendly place.
"This is where they've been chased to, isn't it?" Hermione asked. Her entire body was tensed, and her hand was stuck into the pocket of her jacket, where her wand was.
"Yeah, how'd you know?" Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm not an idiot, Ron...I know what's happening here even if I'm staying in the States." She averted her eyes from a man sitting on the steps of his front porch, his lips curled in a sneer. "This is Treno, isn't it? Reminds me of that story by Poe, 'The Fall of the House of Usher.'"
"Let's just hope we don't meet a Roderick along the way," he interjected. "We're supposed to meet our contact here...he's one of the last double agents working for the Ministry. It took me a while to get his group to let him talk. " They stopped in front of a seemingly unoccupied manor. "Keep alert."
"No shit, Sherlock." She clutched her robes a little more tightly around her as the wind howled towards them. Her eyes scanned the horizon, watching for the familiar black, hooded robes of the Death Eaters.
After about half an hour, a tall, broad man emerged from the old building behind them. "That building needs to be demolished," he sighed.
"Pity," replied Hermione. "It should be preserved as a national treasure." Ron's face twisted into one of disbelief.
"How'd you know what to say, Herm-"
"Herm-own-ninny. It is good to see you again." Viktor Krum's black eyes stared at the both of them from underneath his hood.
"YOU're our contact?" Ron's voice was an angry whisper. "I should have known, you came from Durmstrang...school for the Dark Arts, I knew all along you weren't trustworthy-" Viktor scowled at him.
"If I vasn't trustvorthy, I vouldn't be speaking to you." He turned abruptly. "Follow me."
**********
The building they had both assumed was abandoned and rotting was, in actuality, a gigantic palacial estate. It was gloomy, yet still elegant. Black velvet drapes hung from the windows. An old tapestry depicting scenes from Dante's 'Inferno' hung from one of the walls, while the others were wallpapered with gray tones. The furniture was overstuffed, made of the same black velvet as the draperies. Their footsteps were muffled on the black-carpeted floor. There was a black marble fireplace as well, with a larger version of the waterproof bluebell flame crackling inside. Sets of swords and spears were framed and hanging from the walls too. A grandfather clock stood in a corner, ticking ominously.
"You live here?" spat Ron. "Doesn't it make you depressed?"
"It's very comfortable," interjected Hermione, eager to step on his rude tirade. "It was when I stayed here during winter vacation fifth year." She watched in satisfaction as he shut up, his ears turning red. He settled for muttering angrily to himself.
"Vell, my family kept this home to stay in during the winter...Bulgaria isn't exactly ze best place to be at that time. I find zis place very com- for-ta-ble." He sounded out the word carefully. "Please, zit down." Ron gave him a suspicious glare and remained standing. Hermione, however, took a seat next to him on the sofa.
"Did you really join the Death Eaters?"
"Vell...yes, I did." Ron looked smug at Hermione's shocked expression. "But it vasn't what you think, Herm-own-ninny. I was vorking vith Dumbledore and the British Ministry of Magic, and they needed a double agent. Their last one had veen found out and assasinated, so I volunteered for the job."
"How do we know you're to be trusted?" At Ron's question, Hermione remained silent. It was a sensible thing to ask, after all.
"You don't. And I don't know that you vill honor our agreement and keep me anonymous. That's ze danger of it all." The broad-shouldered man stood abruptly, clearly agitated. "That's why we must make zis as quick as possible."
"That's fine with me," replied Ron. "Why did the remainder of the Death Eaters take Treno as their stronghold?" His quill was again poised over some parchment, but this time Hermione was there to see it in the flesh.
"Vell, Treno was already hometown to many Dark allies...Lord Voldemort himself lived here, before launching the attack that almost killed Harry Potter when he was a baby. So anyvay, there are obviously many people that are sympathetic towards the cause."
Ron fixed his eyes on his subject, ready for the next question. "Why do you think the Ministry hasn't taken any measures towards uprooting the town when it's obviously evil?"
"Oh, I vouldn't say it's evil...just easily influenced. The people here were once very rich, and Voldemort promised them that he vould restore their powers if they helped him."
The only sounds in the room for the next twenty minutes were the muted voices of Ron and Viktor, as well as the scratching of the quill. Ron's brash attitude towards the former Bulgarian Seeker wasn't entirely misplaced, as he WAS still technically a Death Eater.
"That's it, I suppose. I'm going to turn this stuff in to the Ministry before publishing it…" He carefully avoided Viktor's eye at his next statement. "Thanks for talking to me."
"You're velcome, Mr. Weasley." As he shook both Ron and Hermione's hands, his sleeve slipped a little, the garish Dark Mark now pale and white, was still clearly etched into his arm. "I suggest you go now, before anyvone gets suspicious."
*********
The two didn't say much as they headed back to Diagon Alley. Instead of heading back to the Prophet's HQ, Ron steered the two of them back to the road leading to the U.K.-U.S. Apparition Point.
"Sorry I couldn't help you with the writing and stuff," he commented, hands stuffed into the pockets of his robes.
"It's alright…at least I got to see a professional reporter in action." She gave him a rare smile, and he felt all the force of the simple compliment. When the farmhouse came into view, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. There was a long queue of people, all impatient, some yelling. Some harassed-looking Ministry members were holding them at bay. "What's going on?" Hermione asked, catching a guard by his sleeve.
"Emergency…the American Minister's just been assasinated. They think the person who did it came through here, and so the Point's shut down." Hermione swore under her breath.
"How am I supposed to get home then?"
"Sorry, missy, but that's not my concern." He gave an apologetic look and sauntered away.
"'Not my concern,' my arse…" She looked back to see Ron watching her amusedly. "What?"
"Nothing. I've just never heard you curse before."
"I've heard you curse more times than I can remember."
"Damn straight." He smiled at her comment ("Ron, don't swear!") before continuing. "Seriously though, d'you have a place to stay?"
"Erm, no, but I suppose I can room with Ginny for a night or two…"
"She lives with Harry."
"What does your mum think about it?" Somehow Hermione didn't think that the conservative Mrs. Weasley would approve of her only daughter living with a man, even if it WAS Harry.
"They're already getting married, what can she say?" He shrugged. "I guess she resigned herself to it…and mostly everyone else lived with their signifigant others before getting married."
"Did you?" Ron didn't answer at first, but when he did his answer was brief.
"No."
"Why not?" She pressed. "I bet Kate would if you asked her to."
"What does my secretary have to do with anything?"
"I didn't say she did…you're the one who's making those assumptions." Ron glared at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the horizon.
"So where are you going to stay?"
"The Leaky Cauldron, most likely…or I guess I could go back to Treno and ask Viktor." Ron's face grew darker, his scowl more evident.
"That smarmy git? You must be out of your mind!" She looked nonchalant beside his stewing fury.
"I assure you, Ron…I'm perfectly sane." She smiled at him, increasing the speed of her gait until he had to almost run to catch up to her.
"Okay, I get it. You suddenly can't stand to be close to me." His face was totally unreadable.
"It's not that...I just don't like to hear one of my friends slandered like that."
"You consider that...that...THING a friend?"
"I've had enough." She began to run-walk again.
"Alright, alright!" He put on a burst of speed and easily caught up with her. He swerved to the left, blocking her path and grabbing her by the shoulders so she would stay put. "Listen, what I was trying to get to is...you can always just stay with me."
A/N: Next chapter is full of fluff, I warn you!