[A/N: Tech Difficulties appear to be fixed for the moment, and I got a bit ahead, hence the flurry of posts. Sorry again for the issues, but thanks to all of you who're waiting patiently. And now, on with the show … 40]
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Hermione watched from the far end of the hall as McGonagall approached the classroom with Dumbledore and a man she didn't recognize. That she expected. The shock came when she noticed Cornelius Fudge himself walking with the group.
"He's not supposed to be here, is he?" Neville whispered.
"No," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "It doesn't matter. As soon as we see MacNair and Flint leave, we'll intercept them."
Neville gulped and silently nodded.
The adults waited for class to end before grabbing Fred and George on their way out. The fifth-years saw MacNair and Flint linger at the edge of the hall, listening to the conversation. Otherwise, the hall was completely empty.
"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said to George, her hand on his arm. "It seems that you and your brother are in a good deal of trouble."
"For what?" Fred asked. He and George adopted their long-practiced innocent expressions.
"These are very serious allegations," Fudge said to them.
"I know for a fact that we've never done anything worthy of the Minister of Magic himself," George commented, "sir."
"It seems you boys have taken a liking to a number of items at Zonko's," the constable broke in. "Isn't that correct?"
The twins traded a confused look.
"Well … yes," Fred answered.
"But no more than we have other years," George continued. "I mean, they have great stuff there."
"Indeed," Worly said. By nature he was a crusty man; even his elf-like appearance had grown hard and craggy under the toll of years of police work. He had seen young fools like the Weasleys come and go, and their feigned innocence did not impress him.
"Tell me gentlemen, are some of the items you fancy a bit beyond your financial means?"
The Weasleys needed no more of a hint than that.
"If you're sayin' we stole something, the answer is absolutely not," Fred said, his stomach beginning to register his anxiety.
"We like to have fun," his brother added, "but we shop there way too much to be stealin' from them."
Worly ignored their denials and pressed on. "You're interested in opening your own competing store, isn't that also correct? And you lack the capital to both purchase a shop and the inventory to fill it? Even with the generous donation made by …" he flipped through his notepad, checking his research, "oh yes, of course, by Harry Potter."
The twins looked at each other, eyes wide. Almost no one knew about Harry's gift to them the year before. Down the hall, Hermione tensed at the constable's obviously thorough research.
"We didn't steal anythin'," George insisted. "Who told you we did?"
"The Zonko's people," Worly said indifferently, hoping to provoke a reaction. "They were quite sure it was you two. Apparently, they know you very well, as they were utterly shocked that you would lift any inventory, let alone so much."
"So much … how much did we supposedly take?" Fred asked, concerned.
"I'll ask the questions if you don't mind, young man." Worly turned to McGonagall. "We need to find the stolen items, just to verify their existence. Where might they have hidden them?"
"I'm sure I have no idea," the Transfiguration professor responded. The thought of Fred and George stealing horrified her. She never would have believed that they would do anything more damaging than would be humorous. Unfortunately, the constable's evidence seemed quite conclusive. "These two know this building better than anyone else. Perhaps we should check their dormitories first, then move on from there."
"This will go much easier on you boys if you simply admit to it and show us where the merchandise resides," Fudge said reasonably. "I fear your father will be most displeased."
"We didn't do it, Minister!"
"We're being framed!"
"Come now, that's unlikely, don't you think?" Fudge responded.
"I for one would like to see the proof of the theft," Dumbledore said quietly. "Fred and George enjoy their fun, but they have never intentionally harmed anyone."
"Take me to the dormitories, please," Worly said, "and we can resolve this quickly."
Hermione saw a flash of black as MacNair and Flint departed. With a silent prayer for her friends, she dragged Neville into the hall.
"Hold on a moment!"
"Miss Granger, this is certainly none of your business," McGonagall said. "Shouldn't you be in class?"
"Yes, I should, but I'm not because I had to be here," she answered."If I could speak with you and Professor Dumbledore privately for two minutes, I can prove to you that this is a hoax."
"Young lady, anything you have to say can certainly be said to the group," Fudge intoned.
Hermione looked at Dumbledore with pleading eyes. The headmaster nodded.
"Ms. Granger, Mr. Longbottom and I will confer for a moment, Minister," he said.
Fudge's eyes flashed angrily.
"Albus, perhaps you did not understand the discussion we had earlier. I am the Minister of Magic; these two thieves are the children of one of my employees. Whatever this silly girl is making up to help them can be said in front of all of us."
"She's not making it up!" Neville shouted. Everyone turned to look at him. "Well, she's not," he added softly.
"It's a setup. We overheard two Slytherins, MacNair and Flint, talking about framing the Weasleys…"
"Now see here, young lady," Fudge interrupted, "Mr. MacNair is a valued Ministry employee. I highly doubt that his son would be involved in such a thing."
"What about our dad?" Fred asked. "He's a Ministry employee."
"Erm … well, yes. But there is a great deal of evidence against you, whereas with MacNair …"
"We can prove it," Hermione said. "They left a map to the stolen items under George's bed yesterday. We checked on Wednesday and again last night, and it was only there the second night."
"They could have had it on them when you searched on Wednesday," Worly offered. This affair had finally caught his interest; the girl seemed to passionately believe in her argument, and despite his world-weary churlishness, he loved a good riddle.
"Yes, I suppose so. Except that I know where MacNair and Flint are right now, which is at this hiding spot, and we'll have plenty of witnesses to it," Hermione said, "including Harry Potter. How would they know where it is, if they aren't involved?"
Worly raised an eyebrow. "How, indeed? Where would that be, exactly?"
MacNair and Flint had left little space in the storage room. Besides a roughly square area in front of the door and a small niche among the boxes, the room had been filled with stolen goods. Ron, Harry and Ginny availed themselves of the concealment eagerly. The amount of pilfered materiel awed them; MacNair and Flint had managed to rip off an entire month's shipment of stock from the joke shop.
"When they get here, I'm going to …" Ron's voice faded, his anger too great for words but his whole body stretched taut with tension.
Beside him, Ginny nodded in equal frustration, her face flushed crimson.
"We need to be careful," Harry warned. "I've been trying to tell you all day. They're more skilled than we are."
"I don't care," Ginny snarled. "Nobody messes with my family like this. Stupid Malfoys."
Harry would have commented on Draco's assistance, but MacNair and Flint cut him off by walking in.
"We need to wait," he whispered, "just until … Ron! Ginny!"
The two Weasleys, oblivious to Harry's pleading, leapt from their hiding place to confront the Slytherins.
Surprised, MacNair and Flint retreated a step. Ron threw a leg-locker curse, hoping to prevent a drawn out fight. Flint had been trained to duel by his brother; he blocked the curse easily.
"Look at this," MacNair said disdainfully, drawing his wand. He had a thick shock of shoulder-length black hair and a pale, oily complexion. With his sneer firmly in place, he reminded Harry of Professor Snape. "The kiddies want to play with the grown-ups."
"Fug you, you Death Eater bastard!" Ron screamed.
Before he could loose another curse, the burly Flint tackled him to the floor, knocking the wand from Ron's hand and bouncing his head off the ground with a painful thud. Harry burst out from behind the crates, intent on freeing his friend. MacNair intercepted him with a Rumble curse and Harry fell to the floor, his calves and feet numb and his upper body shaking madly.
"CUMULO!" Ginny cast, mimicking the Death Eater she and Harry had faced before. She had been practicing the spell in private, and it worked nearly as well for her as it had for the dark wizard. The resounding clap of thunder rocked all five of them; wind and rain shot from her wand, driving MacNair backwards into a pile of boxes. Stacks of Refill-a-cups – cups that magically emptied themselves each time you filled them – spilled out from the shattered cases.
Flint punched Ron's face twice, drawing blood from the dazed younger boy's nose, then climbed off to confront his sister.
"PEDEM CONFERRE," he intoned. A silver hand shot from his wand, balling into a clenched fist as it zipped straight for Ginny's head. She dove out of the way, escaping the impact by a hair. She scrabbled to her left, hoping to insert herself between her two opponents, but tripped over Harry's convulsing form in the process.
Skin ripped painfully from her palms and forearms as she splayed out on the rocky floor. MacNair, who had extricated himself from the boxes, joined Flint in a hearty laugh.
Between them and Ginny and Harry, Ron rose painfully to his knees and felt around unsuccessfully for his lost wand.
"Quite the game, eh, Flint?" MacNair said.
"Definitely, Julius. If I had known we'd be having this much fun, I might have invited some spectators."
"So, d'you reckon we should make them feel welcome? Perhaps a spot o' pain to teach them to stay out of Slytherin business?"
The other boy nodded, his menacing grin reflecting the joy in his eyes.
"Crucias," they said together, just as Marcus Flint had taught them. It was a modified version of the outlawed curse, nearly as painful but lasting half as long, and not strictly forbidden by the Ministry.
The spells buzzed as they flew, the first drawing an intense scream from Ron and the second headed directly for Harry.
The Boy Who Lived, knowing what was coming, tried to roll away. He couldn't make his body respond, though, and instead braced for the coming pain. Two booted feet shoved him roughly to the side before it arrived.
"No!" Ginny kicked out, knocking Harry from the line of fire. The curse grazed her right leg, sending a brief explosion shooting through her body. The bulk of it whizzed by and tore a gouge in the stone floor.
Ignoring the pain, she raised her wand and shouted, "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"
The curse took Flint by surprise; he froze in place before he could block it. MacNair's face contorted with rage as his friend stopped moving.
"You little bitch!"
He flicked his wand, lifting her into the air and tossing her into her still-writhing brother. Her head collided with his bony shoulder, jarring them both. Another flick of the wand slammed her into the floor and she collapsed against Ron in a heap.
Across the room, Harry finally regained control of his limbs. Ginny and Ron, he saw, both had blood on their faces and neither one seemed to be effectively resisting.
Seeing the wounded girl crumpled next to his friend snapped something in Harry.
"Ginny…" he said, his voice wavering. "Petrificus Totalus." The after-effects of the Rumbles muffled Harry's effort to protect the girl. MacNair blocked the weakened curse with a deft flourish.
"Please, Potter. You're in no state to be tossing curses. That was pathetic." The Slytherin had the upper hand again, and he wanted to enjoy it. He couldn't remember the countercurse that would free Flint, but he could deal with that after disposing of these fools. "This turned out much better than I thought. Instead of three Weasleys, I can get rid of five, and Harry Potter besides. D'you think they send thieves to Azkaban, Potter?"
The spell on Ron finally wore off, leaving him flat on his back, rasping for breath. When the pain receded, he opened his eyes and saw MacNair facing a kneeling Harry. Ginny moaned quietly next to him, her head slumped to his chest and a cut bleeding furiously on her forehead. Ron's arm still twitched from the curse, but he carefully forced it to reach over and take Ginny's wand.
"So tell me, Potter, what sort of bug do you wish me to turn you into? A beetle, perhaps? Maybe a fruitfly. Uh-uh," he said as Harry brought his wand up. Neither one noticed Ron's muttering or the tiny flames sprouting near MacNair's feet. "EXPELLIARMUS!" Harry's wand flipped up and into MacNair's hand. "That's better. Now … Hey! What the …" Pain coursed through his legs as his burning robe reached bare skin. He desperately hopped up and down to put out the conflagration.
"That's for hurtin' my sister!" Ron roared. "EXPELLIARMUS! That's for Harry!" He shouted as the two wands slipped from the Slytherin's grasp. "This one's for bein' a bloody nancy boy and messin' with my family! ARIETO!"
The yellow gob of light took MacNair in the chest, propelling him into several airborne flips before the wall interceded and stopped his flight. Unconscious, he fell to the floor in a pile.
"Uhhh…" Ginny moaned, pushing herself off of the floor and into a sitting position. Harry came to his feet gingerly and made his way over to her. "Are you okay?" She asked him, concern in her eyes.
"Hunky-dory," Ron said sarcastically. His whole body ached.
"I'm alright. How are you?" Harry asked. Neither he nor Ginny seemed to be paying Ron any attention, even though he had just won the fight.
Ginny shook her head, trying to clear the fuzziness from her vision.
"Okay," she said uncertainly. She focused on Harry. "I thought … that curse …it hurt so much."
"Missed me totally, thanks to you." Harry smiled appreciatively, bringing his face close to hers. With his right hand, he tenderly inspected the cut on her forehead. Ron watched in fascination, feeling a strange vibe between them that had never existed before. "You were great, Ginny. You saved our lives."
"We're even then," she said softly.
She never knew whether it was the after-effects of the beating or the fading adrenaline rush from the victory that made her do it, but it felt right and she was too discombobulated to stop herself.
Faltering only slightly, she leaned forward and kissed Harry full on the mouth.
Stunned by the tingling the kiss produced in him, he didn't respond.
After a second, she began to pull away; he sensed it, and, not wanting to abandon the soft feel of her lips on his, he slipped his arm around her and emphatically pulled her in for more.
Five feet away, Ron gaped at the display. He was about to comment, to break them up, to do something … when Hermione walked in.
"You see, Minister," she said haughtily, pointing to the prone forms of the Slytherins, "I wasn't making it up, was I?" She was about to show him a triumphant smirk when she saw Harry and Ginny together and froze.
A split-second later, Ron leapt off the floor.