Changing of Ways

Hey, thanks for the couple of reviews I got. Keep them coming, and spread the word. I enjoyed them. If you have any suggestions, don't hesitate to make them. I have a dilemna with an upcoming chapter, I might be asking for advice sometime down the road. Until then, enjoy.

By the way, don't own ANYTHING. I swear under Veritas serum that I am not making ANY money.

Ch. 2- Standing up and falling down

They landed in a pile of tangled limbs in a bedroom. Draco assumed that this was Hermione's bedroom, seeing as how all of the walls were covered in bookshelves which were full of books. Hermione, through intense effort, levered herself so she was leaning back on her elbows and looked wildly about. "Thank God," she breathed. Through more effort, she disentangled herself from him and stood, swaying alarmingly. Draco steadied her the best he could from his sitting position on the floor, neither of them caring that his hands were on her thighs in an intimate way. Both were too tired to care, after fighting and running for their lives for almost three hours.

Taking a deep breath, she cast the strongest wards she could muster, which weren't too shabby considering her level of exhaustion. While she did that, Draco pulled himself up to lean in a standing position against one wall, not being capable of standing on his own at the moment.

"Done," Hermione said. She paused, trying to focus her mind on something. "Are either of us hurt in a life-threatening way? Or can our wounds wait until later?"

"I think I can wait," Draco replied, running a shaking hand through is mussed hair. "How about you?"

"I'll be okay." With that said, she collapsed onto the floor in a heap. Draco rushed towards her, alarmed. He felt for a pulse-one was there, strong considering. He looked for wounds-aside from a few scratches and bruises, she didn't seem to be hurt. He put it down to simple over- exertion; Hermione had, after all, cast many powerful spells, and managed to Apparate both of them-without splinching- to this room, and then cast some pretty hefty wards around the room.

"Well, Granger, you just had to go and faint on me," Draco said, exasperated. Well, he meant it to come out as exasperated, but it came out gentle instead. "Let's get you in your bed."

He looked over at the bed; it seemed miles away. He leaned down with a sigh and tried to pick her up, but couldn't. It wasn't that she was too heavy, he admitted to himself, it was that he was too weak. He settled instead for dragging her over and boosting her, with much moaning and groaning on his part, onto the bed. He felt himself sway dangerously, and knew that he himself was on the brink of collapsing.

To keep himself from ending up on the floor, he crawled onto the bed next to Hermione and let unconsciousness take him away from the pain and fear for a time.

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Albus Dumbledore was taking a rare moment for himself to stroll in the school gardens when the small owl zoomed past him. It made an alarmingly tight turn and came back towards him. On reflex, he reached out a hand and caught the poor thing. It struggled briefly, and then settled down to perch on his arm, holding out a leg from which a piece of parchment hung. "Go up to the Owlery," he told it as he untied the message. "You will be taken care of there." The owl hooted softly in appreciation and flew at a greatly diminished speed up towards the Owl's Tower.

Before the owl had even made its way out of sight, Dumbledore had opened the letter.

'Albus,
Hermione Granger has been reported to have used her wand to cast a variety of
powerful curses and hexes, but even the Minister admits that it seems to have been in
self-defense. A shopping center near her home was attacked by Deatheaters, but we do
not believe that she was the target. Ministry officials are cleaning up the mess, but we
cannot find her. We urgently require your assistance.
Sincerely, Arthur Weasley

The twinkle in Albus Dumbledore's eyes went out as he rushed towards the castle to gather a few of his colleagues to help.

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Gathered in Dumbledore's office, the four heads of houses looked at each other worriedly, not knowing what was going on. "Albus, what is the matter? What has happened?" Minerva McGonnagal (sp?) cried out, unable to bear the wondering any longer.

"Minerva, Severus, Filius, Rosalyn, there was an attack on a Muggle shopping mall near Miss Granger's place of residence today." Minerva gasped. "It appears that she was there at the time, and fought with the Deatheaters. We know that she is alive, and are reasonably sure that she is free, but we do not know where she is. We cannot find her using any spell we know of."

Minerva immediately started sprouting (no pun intended) off various places all around the world that the girl could be, rather hysterically, in fact, when Severus broke in, "Might I suggest, Albus, checking her home?"

There was a stunned silence, and Dumbledore chuckled. "Why did none of us think of that? Good thing we have you for logic, Severus." He received a scowl and rolled eyes for his compliment.

Seemingly as one, they rose and headed for Hogwart's gates, so they could Apparate to the Ministry, and then on to Hermione's home.

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Two Ministry officials accompanied them to Hermione's house to see if she was there. They Apparated inside the house to avoid the Muggle neighbors, and called out loudly the moment they appeared.

There was no answer.

The Hogwarts staff exchanged worried looks, and then spread out to look through the house. It was Rosalyn Sprout who found the wards, albeit the hard way. She approached the last door on the hallway she was searching and the resulting activation of only a few of the wards was enough to throw her down the hallway. The ensuing crash and Sprout's yell of, "Albus, I think we found her," attracted everyone's attention.

Everyone approached the door with caution. With a spell, one of the Ministry officials tried to disarm one of the wards, only to activate another, which slammed him into the ceiling and then onto the floor. "I have to admit, Albus," Snape said silkily after the man had picked himself up, "That I am impressed with her wards. These are the strongest I have seen in over 20 years."

McGonnagal's jaw dropped. She had never heard him give such praise before, let alone to a Gryffindor, especially a Gryffindor who was best friends with Harry Potter, the bane of the Potion Master's existence-well, barring He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, anyway.

"Minerva, do close your mouth, the dumbstruck look simply does not suit you," Severus added, noticing the effect of his previous words.

The other Ministry official turned towards the quintet with an awestruck look on his face. He had just finished running a diagnostic test on the wards-very very carefully, of course-and said, "This will take days to unravel."

"But what about Miss Granger?" Minerva half-shouted, outraged. "She could be hurt in there, or worse!"

"Minerva, I do not believe that Miss Granger is in any immediate danger. I think the best solution at this point is to wait for her to come out on her own. Meanwhile, we need to meet with Cornelius to discuss this," Dumbledore said.

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They sat in the chairs in front of Cornelius Fudge's desk. The Minister, it seemed, was worried over the fact that Hermione's rooms were so well warded. "Where did she learn them, Headmaster? I know that most of those wards are not taught in Hogwarts," he said.

"Miss Granger is a brilliant witch, Cornelius, with a fondness for books. I dare say that she learnt them there." With sudden understanding, he asked, "Why ask, though. Where do you think she learned them?"

"Well, considering the wards and the spells that she threw today, I was wondering if she might have. . . might have switched sides, perhaps in her pursuit of knowledge?"

The teachers looked shocked; after glancing at each other, however, they burst out laughing, even Snape. Soon they were laughing so hard that Rosalyn Sprout fell out of her chair and Flitwick had tears of mirth running down his face. Snape was the only one capable of speech, and even he was having a hard time of it. "Miss Granger. . . a Deatheater. . . where. . . ever did you . . . come up . . . with that . . . one, Cornelius?"

The Minister merely glared at them while Rosalyn climbed back into her chair . After another couple of minutes, they managed to control their amusement. However, they made the mistake of sharing another glance the moment the Minister started to speaking, and peals of laughter rang through Fudge's office once more.

"Really, Cornelius, you have to admit how ridiculous that sounds," Dumbledore said after they managed to rein in their laughter. "Miss Granger, future Head Girl, best friend to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, a follower of Voldemort?" It was a testament to how amused they still were that none of the teachers flinched at the name, though Fudge sure did.

"I suppose not," he said stiffly. He paused awkwardly for a second, and then asked, "So what do we do now?"

"We wait," Dumbledore told him. "And hope Miss Granger will decide to come out soon."

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