Author's Notes: Extremely long chapter alert!
Someone on the SQ asked me what happened to the Dementors, according to this fic. I briefly mention it in this chapter, but I don't go into detail. Let's just say that, in the Bury the Hatchet universe, Sirius went back to Azkaban and hokey pokey'd them to Death. You know, he started being all "Put your right foot in and put your right foot out, put your right foot in and shake it all about…" and the Dementors all got confused and exploded.
…
^_^
***
Hermione blinked away the dark spots clouding her vision, feeling breathless. She found herself sitting on a bench inside the very courtroom they had been watching from the safety of Dumbledore's office. Shivering, and feeling slightly numb from the trip, Hermione slowly gazed around the room. None of the solemn-looking witches and wizards seemed to have noticed that three strangers had just plopped into their midst.
As the feeling in her arms and legs began to come back, Hermione noted in surprise that Ron was sitting beside her, on her left, and that she was still grasping his hand in a bone-crushing grip. She relaxed her grip due to the masked expression of pain on her friend's face. They simultaneously glanced upwards, both expecting to see Dumbledore's office peering back at them. Harry, who was on Hermione's right, did not bother. A very solid-looking stone ceiling stared back at them.
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly looking very embarrassed as she surveyed the dignified people sitting around her. She opened her mouth as if to apologise.
"It's all right," Harry said, reading his friend's expression correctly. "They can't see us."
"Alonso Drago, Donovan Owens, Samantha Owens," a monotonous voice announced. Hermione jumped at the sound and glanced over to see Nicholas Foran, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. However, the last time Hermione had seen him - at a social function for Ministry staff which she had attended with Charles a little before Christmas - he had had a dark beard, flecked with spots of grey. The Nicholas Foran who had just spoken was beardless, with a smooth face and black hair devoid of any silver specks. This memory had to be from quite a few years ago.
Hermione turned her attention to the three prisoners in the centre of the courtroom. Alonso Drago, though more fierce and wild-looking close up, seemed to have been drained of all his energy. Hermione suspected that the golden chains weren't just for decoration - they were probably draining the prisoners of their strength, so that escape was impossible. Drago's eyes remained transfixed on one spot, his hateful gaze unwavering. The younger wizard, Donovan Owens - whose name Hermione was sure she had heard before, probably from her and Ron's list - didn't seem quite as worn out as his companion. Every now and then in a violent outburst, he would begin to struggle against the chains holding him and then abruptly stop, glaring around the room through hooded eyes. The witch, Samantha, remained placid and unmoving, her eyes slack.
"You have been brought before this council so that we may pass judgement," Foran continued in his flat voice. Hermione remembered that he was very serious, and a bit boring. Surprisingly, Charles - who usually worshipped all senior Ministry members - had not seemed very fond of him either. "You stand accused of being Death Eaters, servants of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, of murdering a family of Muggles, the O'Brians, and of using two Unforgivable Curses on other human beings: the Cruciatus curse, and the Imperius curse. How do you plead?"
The two wizards remained tight-lipped and silent, as if they did not want to give the council the satisfaction of hearing them answer. The only sound in the hushed courtroom was breathing - harsh, ragged breathing which was now coming from Samantha Owens. If anyone else had noticed this, they gave no indication that they did.
"Very well," Foran said curtly. "We will hear the testimony of the witnesses before passing judgement." He said this with a tone of finality that clearly said the witnesses' testimonies were unimportant. From the looks on the faces of the witches and wizards gathered there, it seemed that they felt the same - the three accused were getting a life sentence in Azkaban, regardless.
"Ron, Harry," Hermione whispered, as someone appeared at Foran's elbow and gave him a few pieces of parchment, causing a brief pause in the proceedings. She had become curious when she had thought about Azkaban. "When exactly do you think this is?"
Ron was staring at a wizard on the same bench as them, but further down, with a look of intense concentration. "Seven years ago," he said promptly. Both Harry and Hermione stared at him. "That's Darnell over there," he explained, pointing to the wizard he had been staring at. Harry's eyes flickered in recognition. "Another Auror," he told Hermione. "See, Harry? He has the scar on his chin, but he hasn't grown his hair out long yet…so this must be about seven years ago."
Hermione looked extremely impressed with Ron's observational skills. He noticed the look, and his cheeks flushed pink as he gave a triumphant sort of smile. "So, this took place after the Dementors had been removed from Azkaban," Ron continued. "The goblins had taken over for them already, and the Dementus curse had been put into effect."
Hermione nodded; the Dementus curse had been a brilliant new spell invented by the celebrated warlock Vorian Mugsworth seven years ago, and it served as an effective replacement for the Dementors. The curse sucked the happiness out of Azkaban and prevented escape nearly as well as the Dementors had. Goblins were introduced as guards; after working at Gringotts for so long, they were quite familiar with strict, rigid security and were suited perfectly for the job.
"So this must be right after…you know…" Ron trailed off and then stared into space, clearly lost in his own thoughts. It registered somewhere in the back of Hermione's mind that she was still holding onto his hand, but for some reason she couldn't let go. Sighing inaudibly, Hermione turned her gaze towards the prisoners again…
…Only to find Donovan Owens staring right back at her.
Hermione shrieked and squeezed Ron's hand with surprising strength. Ron winced, though an expression of concern appeared on his face through the pain. "What is it?" he asked as Hermione stared back at the accused wizard, transfixed. His eyes were definitely on her. There was something disturbing about those eyes.
"Him! He's…he's looking at me," Hermione hissed, edging closer to Ron and pressing against his warm body. It was slightly comforting. "I thought you said they couldn't see us?" she whispered to Harry.
"They can't," Harry replied, glancing behind Hermione. "It's not you he's glaring at…look."
Hermione and Ron twisted their bodies to see Albus Dumbledore sitting behind them, calmly staring back at Owens. Hermione heard Ron inhale sharply. Seeing the headmaster as he was during their Hogwarts days again - full of power and much healthier-looking - made Hermione's lip start trembling. Afraid she might do something stupid, like cry, Hermione swiftly turned around. Foran looked ready to speak again.
"I call Albus Dumbledore to the stand," Foran announced. Surprised, Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched as Dumbledore rose and swept over to sit on a stand next to Foran. It looked very much like a witness stand, like in Muggle courts. But instead of swearing an oath, Dumbledore was given a vial containing a small amount of a clear, colourless liquid - Veritaserum. The wizard handing him the vial seemed to be apologizing profusely, but Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively and drank it.
"Could you please tell us about the events of the twenty-fifth of June, Albus?" Foran asked, a note of respect in his usually monotonous voice.
"Certainly, Nicholas," Dumbledore replied in a quiet voice. His eyes were locked on the prisoners, who were giving him glares full of such malice and loathing that Hermione was amazed he could maintain eye contact.
"I have already given a testimony in front of this council concerning the events leading to Lord Voldemort's demise," Dumbledore began. A shudder seemed to run through the entire assembly, but no one spoke a word about him using the dreaded name. "But I will repeat it for the purposes of this council. Severus Snape nobly sacrificed himself in order to spare the life of Harry Potter. Therefore, Harry was once again granted the protection that had prevented him from being killed by Avada Kedavra many years ago. Voldemort had not foreseen this; thus he was quite unprepared when Harry and his two classmates, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, all performed the aforementioned curse simultaneously. The three combined curses did what one could not, and killed Lord Voldemort. There is no doubt in my mind that he is dead," he said firmly. Donovan and Alonso, despite his apparent weakness, started struggling again, both shouting unspeakable things to Dumbledore.
"Silence!" Foran suddenly roared, and Hermione jumped in surprise. Somehow the Head of Magical Law managed to control the two unruly prisoners with one shout. The listless look about him had vanished, and a look of powerfulness and fury which Hermione would have never dreamed possible from Nicholas Foran radiated from the man. Silence filled every corner of the courtroom, until Samantha Owens' ragged breathing broke it again.
"Continue," Foran said simply to Dumbledore.
"Thank you," Dumbledore replied calmly. "The Dark Lord had it designed so that whenever he was in mortal peril, his sign - the Dark Mark - which was burned into each of his followers, would become quite painful. Many of Voldemort's supporters fled, as you know, when the Mark began to burn, but the three you see before you," he gestured to the prisoners, "were astoundingly faithful to him. By some means that I still do not fully comprehend, Voldemort had managed to enter my school, and once inside, break the powerful magic surrounding Hogwarts which prevents people from Apparating into it. Thus, these three Death Eaters were able to Apparate into Hogwarts, along with two others - Ethan Fortinbras and Langla Bane - who have, if I am correct, also been apprehended by the Ministry. The five of them tortured the first person they met, using the Cruciatus curse, for information," a note of fury intruded into Dumbledore's calm, quiet tone, "a member of my staff, Minerva McGonagall."
The three intruders from the future gasped in surprise, along with the council. Hermione's eyes were as wide. "Did you…did you know?" she managed to choke out to her two companions as whispers and murmurs filled the courtroom. The two shook their heads slowly, looked as horrified and shocked as Hermione felt.
"Why didn't he ever…why didn't she ever…" Hermione began as Foran once again ordered silence.
"I don't know," Harry said, astonished. "I never had any idea…"
"However, they did not break Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore continued, a note of admiration in his voice. "I arrived from the hospital wing, where I had been speaking to the three brave young people I named before, and managed to Stun the intruders with the help of a few other members of my faithful staff. And that, I believe, is where the Ministry took over in these matters."
A silence descended upon the room once again as Foran nodded to Dumbledore. The headmaster rose and returned to his seat, his robes silently swishing behind him.
"When we go back to the future," Ron promised fervently, "I am going to get down on my knees and apologize to McGonagall for every rotten thing I've ever said about her."
"Thank you, Albus," Foran nodded towards Dumbledore again, his voice back to monotone, but his eyes still flashing. "I now call our second witness to the stand," he announced, "Miss Diana Drago."
If the three invisible intruders had been surprised by the news about McGonagall, it was nothing compared to this. Ron, shocked to the core, fell backwards and toppled off the bench, still clinging onto Hermione's hand. She hoisted him back up, a dumbfounded look upon her face. Harry just stared intensely at the witness stand, looking perplexed. A pale teenage girl, unmistakably a younger Diana, took the stand. She was no older than seventeen or eighteen. Trying to appear as calm and relaxed as Dumbledore had, she drank the Veritaserum. Hermione noticed her hands were trembling badly, and that the colour had drained from her face.
Meanwhile, Alonso - who had been strangely subdued for the rest of Dumbledore's testimony - had started thrashing and screaming wildly in a language that Hermione did not understand, though it sounded like Spanish or Italian. It seemed he had been saving what precious energy he had left for this. Diana purposefully avoided her father's gaze, quivering visibly now. Her eyes were red-rimmed and her usually crimson lips were colourless, pursed together in a thin line.
"Miss Drago," Foran began, his tone sounding considerably gentler as he spoke to the distraught teenage girl, "you have agreed - at great personal expense," he added, looking around at the council, " - to testify against your father, and his two accomplices, Donovan and Samantha Owens. We have heard Dumbledore's testimony, and now we ask to hear yours concerning the events surrounding the murder of a Muggle family on the fifteenth of June, ten days before the events that Albus Dumbledore just described."
Diana took a deep, shuddering breath, but it seemed the Veritaserum made things a bit easier for her. She began speaking quickly, hardly daring to take a breath lest she stop and lose her nerve. "My father and the Owens' needed a place to stay. My father said that his master had provided somewhere comfortable for us to hide until he needed us in a few weeks, when he would break into Hogwarts and murder Harry Potter. It was a Muggle home, belonging to a rich family in Ireland. Samantha had put me under the Imperius curse, because she and Donovan felt that I had become a danger to them lately. I got in the way and interfered a lot after I realized what…what they really were. My father insisted on dragging me along, though. We went to the Muggle house, and my father knocked on the door. A man answered. He killed him."
Alonso's screams had become louder now as he kicked and struggled. Donovan too, was becoming unruly again. And still, Samantha remained immobile, though her eyes had become wide and her breathing more sporadic.
"Silence!" Foran bellowed again, but this time Alonso Drago would not be quieted. Diana began trembling violently, and she avoided her father's gaze as he screamed at her in his native tongue. "Stupefy!" Foran hollered, pointing his wand at Alonso. The prisoner's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped forward in the chair. The golden chains were the only thing that held him in.
Donovan seemed to have gotten the message and quieted. He turned to his wife, who was now murmuring something under her breath as she gasped for air. A look of concern was written all over his face - the most human emotion Hermione had seen from any of the prisoners thus far.
"Please," Foran said to Diana, breathing deeply, "continue."
Diana was taking shallow, unsteady breaths. Hermione watched in astonishment; never had she seen Diana Drago like this before. But this was a young Diana, one who was being forced to re-live an obviously terrible moment in her life, while her own father screamed unknown insults at her. Ron's warm body, pressed up against her, was very rigid. Hermione shivered; she could feel his heart pounding against his ribs.
"She helped the Ministry…" Ron began murmuring to himself in a strangled sort of voice. "She testified against him…but then…"
"I had been fighting the curse," Diana said in a wavering voice, silencing Ron. "I managed to break free. I ran. Donovan and Samantha chased me. My father finished off the other Muggles. They cornered me, Donovan in front and Samantha behind. Donovan tried…he tried to do the Cruciatus curse, but I ducked, and it hit Samantha instead. Donovan tried to stop me and lift the curse from Samantha at the same time. I had my wand, though, and I managed to Stun him before he could do either. Samantha was screaming…but I ran for it…I got away…" Diana trailed off as Samantha Owens began to convulse uncontrollably, as if she was having a seizure. Chaos broke loose as Donovan turned rather pale and began screaming for someone to help her. A few wizards and a witch hurried down to help. Dumbledore swiftly got up again and strode over to the stand, where Diana looked as if she was going to faint.
Hermione looked around frantically, as the entire courtroom suddenly became very blurry, as if she was watching it through the Pensieve again. Then she felt a wonderful sensation - of floating through the silvery clouds, still holding onto Ron's hand. The last thing she heard was Dumbeldore's voice. "Nicholas…put her in my care…"
The three old friends suddenly found themselves back in Dumbledore's office, sprawled on the ground. The light streaming into the window was now waning - it looked to be about six o'clock. Hermione had no idea how long they had been in the Pensieve. As Ron slowly got to his feet and helped both Harry and Hermione up, the three of them exchanged glances.
If anything, the Pensieve had only created more questions instead of giving them answers.
***
He looked weary and confused, frustrated and helpless, sitting there alone in the library. The flickering torches sent firelight dancing on the walls. It played across his face, illuminating his eyes but also bringing to attention the heavy bags beneath them.
After they had left the Pensieve, Ron had wordlessly stalked off to the Owlery. And now, to Hermione's surprise, she had found him in the library. Leaning against the doorframe, Hermione couldn't help but smile despite herself; perhaps she was rubbing off on her normally negligent friend.
"Hi," Hermione finally said softly. Ron jerked up in surprise; his long legs, which had been folded rather unceremoniously under the table, banged against the desk and nearly caused it to topple over. Hermione winced as the banging echoed throughout the empty library.
"Don't do that," Ron gasped, clutching at his heart. Hermione couldn't decide if he was being melodramatic or was actually serious. Ron wasn't usually jumpy, but he had seemed very absorbed.
"Sorry," Hermione apologized, taking the seat next to him. Ron nodded and stared at the several sheets of parchment before him, his eyes strangely glassy, as if he was not looking at them at all.
"Erm…what is all this?" Hermione asked, breaking the silence.
"What? Oh, information on the trial," Ron responded, snapping out of his dream-like state. "It's amazing how much you can find out when you know where to look…and who to ask."
"Friends of yours at the Ministry?" Hermione inquired, briefly skimming the papers scattered sloppily over the desk.
"Yeah. There's not much here that we don't already know, though," Ron replied, disappointment obvious in his voice. He started summarizing a sheet of parchment off-handedly, his voice flat. "Shortly after the trial we just watched, en route to Azkaban, Donovan and Alonso pulled some sort of stunt and escaped. There was evidently a struggle, and while Owens and Drago - Alonso, that is - took off into the woods, Samantha wasn't as lucky. But when they got away, officials hit them both with a powerful stunning spell. Still, I guess the woods were pretty dense and they didn't manage to find them after that. There's no way they would've survived, though…they were half-starved and weak from the trial as it was, it seems…and the Ministry hasn't heard from either of them in years. Samantha Owens is safe in Azkaban where she belongs - "
"But…how is it that you never knew who Diana's father was before?" Hermione interrupted slowly, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully. "Or that she had testified at his trial?"
"I suppose Dumbledore was behind that," Ron replied bitterly. "He probably told everyone to keep quiet about Diana's daddy, because she'd been through so much or some nonsense like that." He heaved a sigh and kept skimming the parchment, his eyes darting back and forth across the page. "In fact, our friend Diana has been at Hogwarts, under the 'care' of Dumbledore ever since the trial."
Hermione nodded; all wizards and witches straight out of Hogwarts were required to apprentice for a year before they were eligible to teach any subject at the school. Diana had come to Hogwarts and had apprenticed with the temporary Potions Master the same year that Hermione had been apprenticing with Professor Vector. In fact, it had been the year after Hermione's graduation – the year after the fall of Lord Voldemort, and the year after the trial. However, at that time Hermione had had no idea that the cold, sullen girl from Durmstrang had been under Dumbledore's care.
"Ever since the trial…" Ron muttered savagely to himself. A look of intense frustration was now on his face, and he abruptly slammed his fist down on the table, leaping to his feet. "The trial in which she testified, with Dumbledore, to put her own father in prison! It doesn't make sense, dammit!" he shouted furiously.
"Ron," Hermione said as soothingly as she could, leaping up as well. "Ron, calm down…"
Ron's shoulders slumped. "Sorry," he muttered, now looking considerably less furious. Hermione hated how he could switch from hot-tempered to giving her that innocent, powerless, look in a matter of seconds. It was extremely unfair that he happened to be a good actor.
"It's just…I was so sure it was her…" Ron trailed off helplessly, and there was nothing fake about his tone of voice, or the defeated look in his eyes. Feeling a tug at her heartstrings, Hermione did the first thing that came to mind; she slowly moved forward and gave Ron what she hoped was a sisterly, comforting sort of hug.
It quickly turned non-sisterly as a surprised Ron recovered and then slipped his arms around Hermione as well. Heart thudding painfully against her ribs, Hermione tried to tell herself to pull away before Ron got the wrong idea. But he was so warm, and…
"Hullo!" a cheerful voice said, shattering the moment. Hermione yelped and jumped backwards from Ron, loosing her balance and toppling over. It was obvious Ron that was attempting to stay serious, and failing, as he helped her up, stifling laughter. He gave Hermione a sly smile, eyes twinkling, just before Hermione whirled around to see Charles standing in the library doorway.
"Charles! We were just…" Hermione hastily began.
"…going over legal documents, I see!" Charles finished brightly, crossing over to the table and having a look, as if finding his girlfriend in the arms of another man was something quite ordinary. A shadow passed over Charles' merry face as he skimmed over the documents. He frowned and looked up at Ron, a piece of parchment in his hands. "Where did you get these documents, Mr. Wesley?"
"Weasley," Ron corrected him dryly. He snatched the piece of parchment out of Charles' hands. "That's none of your business." Hermione sighed and looked away, not liking where this was going.
"But these are Ministry papers, Mr. Weasler - they're not supposed to be - " Charles tried.
"Weasley," Ron interrupted. "I'm well aware that they're Ministry papers…I had a friend at the Ministry send them to me - "
Charles continued frowning, always a stickler for the rules. "Are you sure he had clearance for that, Mr. Weasel? He needs signed permission from the Keeper of the archives to remove any documents from the Ministry archives - "
"Weas-ley," Ron said slowly, an irritated look on his face. "Yes, he had the proper clearance. Now if you don't mind, Hermione and I were sort of…in the middle of something." A mischievous grin was twitching at the corners of Ron's mouth. Charles cocked his head to the side good-naturedly as Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands.
"Oh, I'm sorry, pumpkin…" Charles said, turning to Hermione and wringing his hands. "I just came with the Minister to visit Dumbledore - I heard about his illness, very unfortunate, very sad - and wanted to pay my respects, you know…"
"'Pay your respects'?" Ron said, suddenly angry. "He's not dead yet, you know," he blurted out. The colour drained from Hermione's face at these words, and Ron looked as if he wished he had not said that.
"Oh…well…" Charles stuttered, looking uncomfortable. "Just…thought I'd…visit. Er…honeydew, would you care to accompany me to the hospital wing?"
"All right," Hermione agreed before Ron could make a comment about 'pumpkin' or 'honeydew'. "I'll talk to you later, Ron…" she began.
"That's all right, I think I'll come with you," Ron decided, casually cleaning up the mess on the table with a wave of his wand. The parchments immediately rolled themselves up neatly and flew into Ron's awaiting hand. Tucking them under his arm, Ron sneered at Charles and said, "Shall we?" in a high-pitched tone which was clearly intended to imitate Charles' own voice. Charles managed a weak smile as the three of them headed to see Dumbledore.
***
"You're what?!"
The sound of Madam Pomfrey's frantic voice greeted them as they approached the door to the hospital wing. Ron winced as he pushed open the door, only to find utter chaos.
Dumbledore was no longer on his bed; he was floating mid-air, a few inches above an awaiting stretcher. Madam Pomfrey was standing protectively in front of the air-borne headmaster, her fists balled and her face furious. The Minister for Magic - a tall, balding man by the name of Issac Crump - was standing a good few feet away from the hospital matron, a helpless sort of look on his face. Behind the Minister was a man wearing a St. Mungo's uniform, cowering at the sight of Madam Pomfrey. And in the midst of it all was Harry Potter, looking torn. Ron appeared at his friend's side and glanced around the room.
"Well that's not something you see every day," Ron murmured, though worry was etched on his face, and his eyes glued to the weightless Dumbledore.
"Mr. Crump, Mr. Crump!" Charles called as he pushed through Ron and Harry, Hermione in toll. He was dragging her along, holding firmly onto her wrist as if he was afraid to lose her in the confusion. "What's going on here?"
"Er…well…" Issac Crump cringed as Madam Pomfrey's eyes flashed dangerously. He was a powerful wizard, with the look of someone who had been very athletic in his younger years, but apparently he had never come across anything as menacing or as violent as Madam Pomfrey. Few wizards had. "Doctor Brasky…from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries," he explained to the newcomers, "was kind enough to accompany me here. He seems to feel that Professor Dumbledore would be…er…better off in the care of the…experts at St. Mungo's," he said this last part very fast, as if hoping Madam Pomfrey wouldn't hear.
"Are you questioning my abilities as hospital matron?!" Madam Pomfrey screamed shrilly. Her fists were clenched and she looked about ready to breathe fire. Doctor Brasky cowered behind the tall Minister for Magic.
"Not at all, my dear woman, not at all," Mr. Crump said hastily, taking a step backwards. "We just feel that - "
"Mr. Crump?" Harry's voice broke through, sounding polite. "Er…I think that removing Professor Dumbledore from Hogwarts wouldn't be a very good idea."
Charles released Hermione's hand and whirled around at the sound of Harry's voice, eyes wide and thrilled. He had just noticed he was there. "Harry Potter?" Charles breathed, his eyes lighting up as they passed over his lightning bolt scar. Despite the pandemonium around them, and the more pressing matters at hand, Charles scurried over and shook Harry's hand breathlessly. "Such an honour to meet you, sir, such an honour…will you be staying long at Hogwarts? I'm Charles Griney, by the way, Head of Department of Fin - "
"Charles," Crump interrupted. Charles spun around to see the Minister gesturing to the chaotic scene around them. "If you don't mind…" Crump said kindly. Charles, bursting with apologies, returned to Hermione's side.
A grin was slowly forming on Harry's face, and his eyes twinkled with amusement as he exchanged looks with Ron. Ron grinned back and nodded at Harry. Hermione groaned.
"Why do you think it's a bad idea, Mr. Potter?" Crump asked good-naturedly.
"Well, as we all know, Hogwarts is probably the safest place in England for him…" Harry began. Madam Pomfrey nodded in agreement and looked smug.
"No," Ron suddenly interrupted. Pomfrey's expression abruptly changed and she glared threateningly at him. "He should go." Ron gave Harry a meaningful look. Hermione glanced from one Auror to the other; evidently, years of being friends, and then partners, allowed them to all but read each other's mind. Harry nodded slowly, and Hermione suddenly caught on - right now, Hogwarts wasn't the safest place for Dumbledore. They now knew that Diana Drago wasn't behind his sudden illness, but that did not mean that he was safe at the school; it only meant that now everyone within the Hogwarts walls was a suspect. Hermione shivered, though it was quite warm inside the hospital wing.
Crump looked from Madam Pomfrey, to Ron, then to Harry. He looked quite confused. "All right…well, I have a Portkey set up to transport the headmaster to…please, move aside, Madam Pomfrey," a note of impatience was in the Minister's voice as he took out his wand, intending to float Dumbledore down to the awaiting stretcher, but Madam Pomfrey stubbornly refused to move.
"Madam Pomfrey, why don't I make you a cup of tea?" Hermione asked gently, moving towards the older woman. Madam Pomfrey looked ready to bite her head off, but instead abruptly burst into tears.
"Oy," Ron stated, shaking his head as Hermione led a sobbing Madam Pomfrey away, speaking soothingly to her. They distinctly heard an, "I'm getting too old for this!" as she and Hermione disappeared into the tiny kitchen adjacent to the hospital wing.
"Thank you very much, Mr. Weasley," Crump sighed, mopping his forehead with a handkerchief. "That woman scares the dickens out of me."
***
With a sigh, Professor Granger stepped out into the corridor outside the hospital wing, glancing at her watch. She moaned; it was getting late, and if she, Ron and Harry planned to get any work done tomorrow, she would have to get to bed soon. However, Hermione didn't have the faintest clue where to start - her faithful library had proved fruitless in the search for the supposed poison, and now they knew that their number one suspect was innocent. It was time to swallow their pride and ask Diana if she knew of a poison that could have done this to Dumbledore. Since they now knew that she was not behind the poisoning, there would be no harm in asking.
"Professor Granger?"
Hermione whirled around to see a thin girl standing behind her, still wearing her school robes. Hermione immediately recognized her as Rowan Richardson, a petite, red-haired Hufflepuff girl. She had taught Rowan only in third year. Though she was very quiet and hard-working, Arithmancy was not Rowan's strong point, and she had decided to drop it after third year. Now a seventh-year student, Rowan had never spoken to Professor Granger outside of class, being an extremely shy girl. Hermione was surprised to find Rowan outside the hospital wing, fiddling nervously with her necklace, at this time of night.
"Shouldn't you be in bed, Miss Richardson?" Hermione said with a frown. "It's well past curfew."
Rowan paled. "I know," she whispered quickly, glancing around the empty corridor, "but…but I…I was w-wondering if…if I could speak with you, Professor."
Hermione looked her up and down appraisingly. "Is…everything all right, Rowan?" she asked.
Rowan swallowed and shook her head, tight-lipped.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, concerned. But before Rowan could reply, her eyes suddenly darted down the hall, where footsteps and voices were approaching.
"There you are, honeybee!" Charles chirped as he, Ron, and Harry approached. Behind Charles, the two Aurors were doubled up in silent laughter. Hermione shot them a glare before returning her attention to Rowan. The frightened girl had taken one look at Charles, Harry, and Ron, and then had quickly turned around and hurried off. Hermione called after her, but to no avail.
"Was that Row Richardson?" Ron said, watching as the seventh-year turned a corner and disappeared.
"What was that all about?" Harry asked.
"I think she was star-struck by you, Harry," Ron suggested. Harry elbowed him in the ribs, embarrassed. Hermione tried to return her attention to Charles, who seemed to be talking.
" - was just telling me that he'll be staying at Hogwarts for quite a while longer! Isn't that marvelous, sweetums? Why didn't you tell me he was here earlier?" Charles asked, beaming. Hermione noticed that there were patches of red on his handsome face, which looked flushed and excited. She could guess why; when they had first started seeing each other, Charles had often pressed her for stories about the great Harry Potter, who was one of his personal heroes, he had said. However, when he had noticed that the subject of Harry was a bit of a sore spot with Hermione, Charles had quickly learned to stop bringing it up.
"Yeah, sugarsmacks, why didn't you?" Ron asked Hermione innocently. Harry tried to stifle a laugh and ended up snorting instead. Charles maintained an oblivious, cheerful look as he enthusiastically shook Harry's hand again.
"Well, I must be off - " he began, but was interrupted by a loud squeal. Harry gasped as something grabbed him very tightly around his middle. Charles stumbled backwards, pushing up his glasses, and both Ron and Hermione instinctively drew their wands.
"Sorry, sirs and miss!" an all-too familiar voice squeaked. Something small and wrinkly, wearing a colourful assortment of clothing, had its brownish arms encircled tightly around Harry's stomach. "Please don't hurt Dobby!"
"Dobby?" Harry managed to choke out, which seemed to be very difficult, as Dobby was close to knocking the wind out of him. "Dobby let go, I can't breathe!"
"Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter!" Dobby apologized fervently, releasing Harry and darting around him to gaze up at his hero with huge, tennis ball-sized eyes. He was wearing the wildest assortment of clothing Hermione had ever seen - he seemed to have abandoned socks in favour of colourful, yarn mittens, which looked quite awkward on Dobby's strange, elfish feet. Hermione noted that the socks had not been discarded; rather, Dobby wore two mismatched socks on each hand. He had cut out holes to wiggle his fingers through. He wore a green and red kilt over purple leggings, which were obviously too long for him, and - Hermione stifled a giggle - a hot pink bikini over top of a multicoloured sweater. Finally, on his head was a tea towel, stamped with the Hogwarts crest.
"Hello, Dobby," Hermione said warmly, tucking her wand away. She suddenly felt a bit guilty. "Er…sorry I haven't been to visit you in awhile…" When she had begun working at Hogwarts, Hermione had made it a point to frequently visit the house-elves. Lately, however, she had been sort of pre-occupied, and hadn't been to visit in quite a long time.
"Hermione Granger should not worry!" Dobby chirruped happily. "Hermione Granger is very kind to house-elves. And Dobby is being very, very busy in the kitchens anyway." He swelled proudly. "Dobby is being made head elf in the kitchens!"
"Good for you, Dobby!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's wonderful!"
"Dobby is hearing that Ron Weezy is teaching at the school," Dobby told Ron, "but Dobby is head elf and is being very busy. Dobby is wanting to visit Weezy, but Dobby is having responsibilities," he said solemnly. His large eyes suddenly lit up as he turned to Harry. "But when Dobby is hearing that Harry Potter is coming to Hogwarts, Dobby is having to come see him for sure!"
"Thanks, Dobby," Ron muttered sarcastically. "I feel loved."
A puzzled-looking Dobby glanced over at Charles, who was lurking somewhere in the background, clearly afraid that the house-elf might try to crush his ribs as well. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"He won't hurt you, Charles," she said pointedly, hands on her hips.
"Of course not!" Charles cleared his throat, straightening his glasses and taking a tentative step forward.
"Harry Potter," Dobby whispered, tugging on Harry's robes. "Dobby is having to tell you something."
"What is it, Dobby?" Harry asked kindly.
Dobby's eyes darted around, as if the corridor was filled with invisible people. "Not now," Dobby said, lowering his voice even more, "Harry Potter can come to the kitchens later?" he asked hopefully.
"Sure," Harry said slowly. Knowing Dobby, he was going to warn Harry that his life was in jeopardy again or something.
Dobby looked delighted again. "Dobby is having to go back to the kitchens now! Goodbye!" he called. With a sharp crack, he disappeared.
"Nutters," Ron said, shaking his head. "That elf's always been nutters." Hermione threw him a disapproving look, and he quickly fell silent.
"Well," Charles said presently, beaming and turning to Harry. "I'll be staying at the Pointy Hat in Hogsmeade for the weekend, so perhaps I'll see you soon, Mr. Potter! It was a pleasure to meet you, sir." He pumped Harry's hand again eagerly.
"Likewise," Harry managed to say, grinning wildly.
"Excellent, excellent…well, could I have a moment, peaches?" Charles inquired of Hermione. She blushed furiously as Ron and Harry snickered, but then reluctantly agreed. Hermione followed Charles back into the now-empty hospital wing.
"Darling," Charles began slowly, grasping Hermione's hands and looking into her eyes, "you've been quite…distant lately."
"Well I'm sorry if the Headmaster's ill, and the school is in a panic, and we thought it was her and it isn't, it can't be…" Hermione said very fast.
"I beg your pardon?" Charles asked, looking puzzled.
"Never mind," Hermione muttered.
Not sure what else to do, Charles gave Hermione a sympathetic smile and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. Hermione stood there, her body very stiff, remembering the warm feeling she'd had when Ron had hugged her, or held her hand, or sat close to her. Hermione suddenly felt very cold inside. She remembered the feeling of dread that had descended upon her when Charles had told her he loved her, and the feeling of elation she'd secretly had, years before, when Ron had kissed her that fateful night in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione slowly pulled away from Charles, a strange expression on her face. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.
"Charles," Hermione began slowly, "I…I really care about you…"
Charles brightened and beamed, clasping her hands. "And I you, honeybear."
Hermione shook her head and closed her eyes. "But not in that way, Charles," she whispered sadly.
Charles furrowed his eyebrows, blinking. "Pardon?" he asked slowly.
"I…I just don't want you to continue to think that…you know…when I don't feel the same way," Hermione said with great effort. "It's just…not fair to you."
Charles looked puzzled and hurt. "Hermione, I – "
"I don't think we should see each other any more," Hermione said softly. "It's not fair to you, or to me."
Charles let go of her hands, as if they had burned him, and stared at her.
"I'm so, so sorry," Hermione whispered, and then she hurried out of the hospital wing, leaving a startled and motionless Charles Griney behind her.
Harry and Ron were waiting outside the door, talking in low voices amongst themselves. Both broke into identical grins as Hermione emerged. "Hey there, sweetcheeks," Ron snickered.
"How'd it go, sugarquill?" Harry asked, trying to suppress laughter. Apparently the two of them had spent the entire time alone creating Charles-like nicknames to embarrass her.
"We broke up," Hermione replied flatly. Both Harry and Ron looked surprised; then a strange expression crossed over Ron's face as Harry looked immensely guilty.
"Hermione…" Harry tried awkwardly, "I…I'm sorry…we didn't…"
"I'm going to bed," Hermione interrupted, her face expressionless. "Goodnight."
Spinning on her heel and feeling horribly guilty as she remembered the look on Charles' face, Hermione headed down the corridor and left Harry and Ron standing there stupidly.
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Did anyone else notice that I randomly inserted a character that was previously not in this story into there so that Perfect World would make sense? Yeah. Go foreshadowing.
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