Chapter 15: A Public Reading
It was eleven o'clock at night in suburban London as 12 Grimmauld Place filled with the usual crowd. Harry Potter, Nymphadora Tonks, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonnagall, Hestia Jones, Sturgis Podmore, Mad-Eye Moody, Remus Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Emmeline Vance, Mundungus Fletcher, Neville Longbottom, and the entire Weasley family (save Percy, a member of the OOP for several years after Cornelius Fudge finally succumbed, belatedly— to believe that Voldemort had indeed returned. Percy was away on assignment for the Ministry).
"Please quiet down, quiet." Murmuring slowly subsided as the gathering began. "The meeting of the Order of the Phoenix is called to order," Molly Weasley led. "Do we have new business? Severus, what news have you?"
Severus shifted in his chair and began his usual lecture about recent Death Eater meetings. He didn't mention his concerns about Lucius' continued preoccupation with Hermione Granger. He would save that detail for Harry Potter after the conclusion of the meeting. "The Dark Mark appeared over the home of the Finnegan family last week, as I'm sure you've heard. Mrs. Finnegan and Seamus ran from the house and were later located safe and sound at the Leaky Cauldron. Mr. Finnegan stayed to fight buying time for his wife and son but was not so fortunate. He is listed in critical condition at St. Mungo's. I went to interview him, but he has not been well enough to say who showed up at his home. He is not expected to recover." His tone was low, as if he alone felt responsible for their deaths.
The room was silent for Snape's account. The wary members hung on his every word. Severus Snape was the most important link to the activities of You-Know-Who and each meeting revolved around his information. It was his activities and knowledge which primarily dictated the actions of the order. He had other concerns this evening but kept them to himself. Sensitive matters were shared with strategic members only.
Unknown to most members, Draco Malfoy was a silent partner. He had taken the Mark under pressure from his father. He was not trusted by other members and he didn't trust anyone else except Dumbledore, Lupin and Snape to know that he was also a spy. Consequently, he did not attend meetings and was instead briefed in secret. Draco had been somewhat helpful, obtaining information from his father which Snape wasn't privy to. Severus' and Lucius' relationship had been strained at best over recent years. There was too much competition between them both as faithful servants in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Snape and Draco had already met earlier, with no new fruitful information about future attacks or the attack on Seamus' family.
"I have been suspicious of sub-groups of Death Eaters carrying out raids with or without the Dark Lord's sanction. It is unknown who they will target next. I'm sure you have seen the Daily Prophets review on those events. He is clearly recruiting additional members and the meetings of the Inner Circle aren't as frequent as I would have suspected. We should look for links between the families targeted, but I notice no similarities as such so far. That is all I have to report." Snape fell silent, a bit terse during his report as he felt the worthlessness of it. All of those things were known or speculated before. He was eager to attend the post meeting with Harry so he could discuss other matters. Harry made eye contact with Snape and knew there would be another briefing.
"Next order of business, Tonks what's new on the Auror home front?" Molly continued.
The purple haired witch stood in her spunky jeans and suggestive shirt which read: "Witches do it Diagonalley". Both risqué and an advertisement for the wizarding shops, it was totally Tonks' style. She and Bill had been dating, but no one knew if the wild ones would ever tie the knot, much to Molly Weasley's dismay. "The Aurors have been identifying families who need protection. Some are in safe houses and most choose to stay in their own homes. We follow some families secretly, but honestly it's dividing our forces too much. There aren't enough Aurors to spread out like that, and if anything it calls too much attention to families who have bodyguards. It was suggested…" she glared at Ron, "that the OOP could help by volunteering to watch out for those families we feel might be targets. However, I think if this happens that our own members will be put at unnecessary risk."
Ron spoke up in his own defense, "I only meant that there are at least three families who are definitely in need of protection. Can't we house them together or something?"
"I think it's too much speculation and it's unfair to highlight which families we feel are most valuable and place their needs higher than other families who are also at risk. We can't just pick and choose who's worth protecting and who's not. We need to wait for more concrete information and right now we've got SQUAT!" Tonks was standing nose to nose with a red-faced Ron now.
Molly intervened as the noise level in the room increased with the squabbling members, "Order!"
Harry whistled through his fingers and the room quieted. "I move that we wait for further information before offering security details to random families."
"I second." Ginny spoke up.
"All in favor, say 'Aye'…" Molly prompted.
A chorus of Aye's except Ron who stammered a bit at being the only one in disagreement.
"Those opposed?"
Ron remained silent.
"One abstention. Next item of business…"
The meeting concluded with induction of new members. They had actively recruited many wizards and witches, but met elsewhere to maintain the secrecy of the order. They were getting too large to have everyone know where the Headquarters were, and certainly it was too difficult to know who might be a spy amongst the new ranks. Ginny led a group, Harry led a group and Molly led four other groups each containing 12 members. Whenever a member was proving to be valuable, they were interrogated with Veritaserum and either initiated into the Board or Obliviated and expelled from the Order. So far they had removed two spies and one gossip from the club. Of the two spies, one was in Azkaban and the other was in St. Mungo's due to an over enthusiastic memory charm.
Severus waited around for Harry and gestured for him to follow him into the next room. He had been speaking to Ron in the corner who was asking Harry, again, why he and Hermione hadn't made up yet.
"I can't believe you've been at this for seven years now. This has got to be the longest row I've ever seen! Do you even remember why you fought at all?"
"Ron, I don't want to talk about it. We disagree and that's that."
"I'd at least have thought she'd join the Order by now, we always talked about it. We need her. I can't even owl her!" Ron saw her at work. Once. Exactly once. His owl was lost for days searching for her address and returned exhausted but punishing Ron with angry nips for the wasted trip.
"I'm sure she's got her reasons Ron. Just leave it okay?" Harry's tone was one of finality and Ron finally let the subject drop. He brought it up every meeting for years. Ron was definitely persistent. He missed their friend. He still grieved over their threesome being broken up. Harry felt a bit guilty. They did to Ron what they promised they wouldn't do. He had been left way out of the loop. At first they told themselves it was for his protection. But this was going too far. It didn't help that Hermione was a hermit more than anything. She even made Snape look more approachable.
Harry and Snape walked to the room behind the kitchen where there was a small den. Snape was holding a mug of hot tea and clutched it as if it possessed the secret to an important mystery.
"Something's going on at the ministry isn't it?" Harry asked.
"Honestly Potter, I thought you'd be the one to tell me about the goings on of the MOM. I'm uneasy about things I've heard concerning your potions."
Harry let out an angry sigh. "A lot of Aurors were injured this week due to faulty tonics and potions. Not everyone was affected. Antidotes were botched and strengthening solutions weren't effective. It was inconsistent, as I think some Aurors used old stock."
"I see. And have you come to any conclusions?" Snape knew more than he was offering.
"Not yet, but I'm worried about tampering of course. Fudge won't let anyone know who's been brewing our potions. I think there may be a hearing. But so far, no word on that. It weird, everything's so hush-hush at the Ministry. No one knows who they can trust. Something's fishy that's for sure. What have you heard?" Harry looked at Snape in a way that showed he knew that Snape knew more than he was telling.
Snape drummed his fingertips together in thought. He knew their potions master well but didn't feel comfortable divulging her identity to even the famous Harry Potter without her permission. "I've heard some things that concern me, but it's dangerous to say too much." Harry shot a look at him. "What? Sorry your Majesty," he said with a mock bow and heavy sarcasm.
"I trust you Snape, it's just… We can't trust the potions that are supposed to be saving our lives right now! Eight Aurors are being treated at St. Mungo's this week, one was killed. I don't suppose it would be possible for you to make a few more reliable potions would it?" Come on, I know you'll do at least this.
"That won't be necessary, Harry." Hermione stood in the backdoor staring at the two gentlemen who were astonished to have missed her standing there. How long has she been there? Harry and Hermione resumed their customary glares. Hermione looked ragged, filled with the guilt and grief of the responsibility of injured Aurors. She wore a long face as her body leaned against the doorframe, a satchel hung from her right finger.
My potions, my mistake, my responsibility, my blame.
Her vacant expression earned a somewhat sympathetic look from Snape, who before was puzzled as how to secretly contact Hermione about the incident. "What are you doing here?" Harry asked curtly.
"I suspected this was a meeting night, so I came to drop these off. I was expecting Tonks, but you'll do." She walked brusquely toward her friend and tossed him the bag. Harry opened it and saw it contained thirty vials of fluid. He recognized them as strengthening potions, Veritaserum, explosives and assorted antidotes. With a defensive glare in her eye, she defended, "These are all quality potions I assure you. Harry, I have to speak to Snape in private, so I hope you don't feel too left out. Trust me when I say you don't want to know. Just do me a favor and keep an eye on Ministry officials in the corridors. We need more in-house security."
"You're the potions master?" Harry asked incredulously.
Mistress. "Harry, I can't talk about it. Don't say anything, don't ask anything and don't jump to conclusions. Now get out." Tears were threatening to come but she held them at bay. Harry left in a huff, while Severus remained with the distraught woman. Previously their arguments had been somewhat contrived, but this dismissal was real. Harry couldn't stand being left out of the loop.
Yeah, what she means to say, is I can't talk about it with you. Harry left in a huff, while Severus remained with Hermione.
Hermione sat on the couch beside Severus. He passed her a cup of hot tea which she accepted with tremulous hands. He looked straight into her eyes which spoke of insomnia and worry. "We have a problem and I need your help. Have you heard about our recent budget cuts?"
"Hermione, cut to the chase. Tell me about your new commercial supplier."
"So you know. I should've known you'd know. I suspected he was probably a Death Eater, or at least making a profit playing both sides." Hermione's facial expression was frightening. Her eyes nervously darted around as she processed the horror of it.
"I know some. What do you mean? Grumple is a Death Eater?"
"Maybe, I don't know. But why else would he sell us shit that doesn't work?! Excuse my French. He's cutting it, I know he is. Many ingredients lately are hard to come by, and we buy in such large quantity. I mean, how can he meet the demand? And it's no small feat either, to make sure that it appears to work. It was too late to find that out though." Her last words fell to an almost whisper.
"I swear I didn't know. I heard from Roger Kettleborough that the ministry dropped him as a supplier for one who could provide larger quantities of ingredients at a cheaper cost, but that seemed impossible. He's nearly been put out of business. Then I saw Grumple's name had shown up in the wizarding community and put two and two together."
"Do you know him?"
"I know of him. He's hasn't exactly carried the best reputation over the years, but it seems he's made a name for himself recently. I wouldn't be surprised if he had the financial backing of some of the older families," he said with a sneer. She knew what that meant. Malfoy. She shook her head, tongue in her cheek.
"Most of the ingredients are high quality, but those are the ingredients which aren't in any real demand. The main components used for strengthening, Veritaserum, and explosives are weak. I tested them all against the supplies from Roger's shop. I think our rather thick Minister is going to try to haul me into a hearing, use me as a scapegoat. He'll blame me for incompetence."
Snape scoffed at the idea. Preposterous.
Hermione gave a snort of gratitude. "Thanks. I sent the Minister multiple memos about my concerns but he's ignoring them. I have a feeling that with all of the budget cuts, something's in it for Fudge if he keeps Grumple's contract open. God Severus!" She put her head in her hands and rubbed her face. Frustrated she got up to pace.
"Someone's been following me at the Ministry, because I think someone Fudge's office must've leaked about the memos. I think I'm in real trouble. I was chased through a corridor in the back and narrowly escaped. They shot poisoned darts at me but missed. I need to prove Grumple's a crook, but at the same time, I still need to work. I can't continue to supply our Auror's with useless dribble!"
"You mentioned Veratiserum. Do you think…" Snape looked concerned.
"Yes, I think MacNair was given the weak stuff," she said with a heavy sigh. "No way to re-interrogate him now, unless one of the Auror's could sneak him into a hearing. I'm sure if there is one though, it'll be a last minute surprise as usual. That ensures that not all of the right people are there, excuses can be made which won't hold the MOM accountable and hopefully the media won't show up to cover it." MacNair had been arrested three weeks ago and was 'interrogated' with it. The Ministry hadn't nearly gotten the information they had wanted out of him that day. He was safely in Azkaban prison for the moment, but no other wizards had been incriminated by his testimony because he had provided no names.
"I need a favor. Can you carry a few vials of the main ingredients for Veratiserum, strengthening potion, and explosives on you at all times for the next few weeks? If we get called to the MOM in an emergency, they're likely to ask for you as an independent expert witness, and maybe try to get you to discredit me. When that happens we can try to use that to expose Grumple by testing them in front of a full court."
Snape's lips curled in appreciation. "Carrying those ingredients around is not advisable, however, I may be able to arrange something." With silk in his voice he added, "Well, well—this is a dangerous game you're playing Miss Granger. I approve."
"My pleasure."
"What if there is no hearing?" He posed.
"There may be additional uses for Rita Skeeter yet."
"Rita Skeeter? She is raving."
"I have her in my back pocket." Snape arched an eyebrow. Rita Skeeter and Hermione had come to a mutual understanding, that, on occasion, Hermione may ask for certain favors, and in exchange for Rita's journalistic flare, Hermione would not divulge her status as an unregistered Animagus. Her transformation into a 'bug' was a terribly advantageous form for the sneaky liar, ahem… reporter, to take.
"How would anyone have or want to have that woman," he said this was a much contempt as his mocking voice could force into two syllables, "in their back pocket?"
"That article in the Quibbler about Harry our Fifth Year… that was arranged by yours truly. Perhaps she would be willing to do an expose on Grumple or on Fudge? Or both."
His eyebrow arched even higher and his lips curled a bit more, scarcely hiding the wickedly wonderful thought of that. "You sure you don't have a set of emerald green robes hidden anywhere, Miss Granger?"
She just smiled, feigning innocence, rolling her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes as if to say 'Who me?' They both turned to face Albus Dumbledore, who had walked in with Harry and Remus and shut the door tightly behind them.
The evening crowd had dispersed, but there were a few stragglers. Albus muttered a few well-placed incantations at the door and turned to greet the member who rarely graced them with a visit.
Remus glanced hungrily toward Hermione, and chalked it up to being too near a full-moon. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she felt his gaze. Remus Lupin was a werewolf, but he was also a man of restraint. Hermione Granger had been working on a cure for lycanthropy for years alongside Snape. He wouldn't jeopardize their friendship for indulging impulsive sexual instincts. She does, smell different today. A growl formed in the back of his throat, scarcely audible. It went unnoticed, but Hermione looked at him knowingly, calculatingly almost with a hint of challenge, and the eye contact halted any inappropriate thoughts from the dark part of him.
"Good evening, Miss Granger." Albus' expression was not as light as it usually was. Issues were pretty serious of late if he spent much time at all away from the school.
"Good evening, Professor."
"Miss Granger, I have a unique request to make of you. It is entirely up to you whether or not you wish to do this." Harry knew to keep his mouth shut. He silently supported his longtime friend. He knew how difficult it was for her to do what Dumbledore asked of her. But she would.
"You need me to give you a reading?" She sensed. Albus produced a bundle of clothing from his own billowy robes.
"Indeed. This is a Death Eater's cloak. Can you tell us about it?" To Snape's shock he recognized his black non-descript robe from the previous evening. He did not mention to the Order about this meeting, as he could not remember most of it. He had been punished by the Dark Lord himself with multiple curses for his failure to show at a Muggle raid. Lucius in fact had omitted the details of that raid to Severus, resulting in his absence, setting him up for the subsequent punishment.
Hermione nodded in agreement and sat cross-legged on the floor. Snape was bewildered as he could only guess at what she was about to do. He had seen her support Trelawney during their training, had sat in awe of her ability to identify a crowd of teachers at her initiation. However, the last time he'd experienced a vision of hers is was the remaining flashes of one of Hermione's first visions. That was unpleasant at best.
Albus laid the cloak at her feet. Hermione took a deep breath and held up the cloak by the piping pulling it through her hands. Slender fingers skimmed the edges as she explored the imperfections of the fabric in an almost sensual way, gleaning what magical essence remained on the Death Eater's garb. Everyone in the room looked on in intense silence as they waited for her comments.
She rubbed the metal fastenings on the collar and abruptly shut her eyes. Her hands clutched the fabric tightly in her fists as the vision of the Death Eater meeting whirled around her. Blood rushed to her face and tears filled her hazel-green eyes as her ears rang with the pain of curses flung at the curled up form of Severus.
"Crucio! I'll teach you to disregard the obligations of your order!" hissed Voldemort. Crucios rang out from the wands of several surrounding Death Eaters.
Hermione's trembling hands drifted toward the bloodstain at the hem of his garment and her palms arched outward in anguish.
The whimpering of a small girl could be heard nearby, kidnapped from the raided home and persecuted for the sin of Mugglehood. Severus had attempted to ease her suffering in a mercy killing. She had been through enough. Obviously his comrades didn't agree, and their curses interrupted his Unforgivable. "You'll be more careful now won't you brother?" Lucius spat with contempt. This was how Voldemort kept his followers in line. Lucius shoved Severus' head against the ground.
Hermione let out a pained cry and grabbed at her neck as she felt her head pulled down toward the carpet as Lucius had done it to her. They could hear her whisper in reassurance to herself, "It's not real, this has already happened, you can't stop it. Stop!" Her hands grasped the sides of her throbbing head. She was speaking to someone in the vision who couldn't hear her pleas for mercy.
Severus reached out to reassure her, but Harry quietly intervened. "Snape, you can't help her. She can't stop this once it's already started. She just has to finish this out."
"Next week, we'll see who's too squeamish to carry out their mission. Don't you have the stomach for it anymore? Perhaps, I'll bring her to you as a gift after I'm done with her. Your former student, the pride of Hogwarts, ruined in front of the Ministry. Tsk. Tsk." Severus gasped, barely aware of Lucius' threats against Hermione Granger. "Ah well, don't worry. There are more plans in store for her before that. I however, am not a patient man," he taunted coldly. A curse flew from the blackness of the Dark Lord's sleeve who had heard Malfoy's disobedient tone. "You will do as I tell you, servant!" "Yes, Master. I live only to serve you," choked out a disciplined Lucius, now curled up in pain beside Severus on the cold dirt.
Hermione mouth was agape at the sight, eyes wide focusing on an image the rest of the group couldn't see; the sounds of her memory made audible by the power of her mind echoed throughout the back room clueing in the surrounding members. They were stunned. None had ever experienced her gift in this way before, though Dumbledore knew of her talent for it. Remus had only recently been included in this select group. Her hands now balled in fists, her nails cutting into her skin. A trickle of blood escaped from her palm and dripped to her knees. She grasped the part of the sleek satin piping, the newest part of the cloak, recently repaired by Severus and felt her shoulders loosen. Her breathing corrected from the ragged gasps, and assumed a quiet rhythmic pace.
Hermione felt a familiar catch in her chest as her mood changed. She attempted to wrestle free from the personal thought, one she did not want experienced publicly. She forced her hands to release the fabric. A wave of feeling past through her limbs leaving her flushed, but she managed to subdue the usual visual display of light which typically accosted her at night, tucking it away in the recesses of her body for later release. She gathered herself, still sitting amongst revered silence.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I think you were wanting more. I think you should have told me who this belonged to before you gave it to me. I could have probably told you more."
"I am sorry Hermione, I thought that it might influence your vision." Albus admitted truthfully.
She looked up painfully at Severus who could scarcely look at her. "I'm sorry. You tried to help her…" Only Severus knew what she had seen. The sounds had not conveyed the vision of Severus trying to end the 11 year-old's suffering.
She doesn't hate me. She doesn't despise me. He would've expected Hermione to recoil and flee in fear of the events she saw, yet compassion remained. No one could possibly understand the life of a Death Eater. The choices he had to make. He shuddered. How dare she? No one could possibly understand. He threw the familiar walls up again and turned a bit from the group.
Harry spoke up. "We can send someone to watch over you."
"No thank you." She said harshly. "Don't act so surprised, this isn't anything new. I can handle him." Everyone knew which 'him' she was referring to. Harry was aware that Lucius had been fascinated by her for years. But they kept their distance, feigning a bitter relationship to protect her from being used as a pawn against the Boy Who Lived. He knew she would refuse assistance. In truth, she needed a good friend to keep her company. She was alone and isolated. He didn't like how he saw it change her, the once bright-eyed optimist now living in relative isolation. He wondered how long it had been since she had been in this crowded company.
Hermione got to her feet and Remus held out a hand to steady her.
"You ready to go?"
"Yes. I gave my report to Severus already. Thanks for the escort Remus, but I brought a portkey this evening." Hermione was also a silent member of the OOP. She passed information as needed to strategic members of the Order. Albus and Molly had inducted her in secret. Snape had only recently heard of her involvement but no one else was aware, wisely so, of her affiliation.
"Be careful," were Snape's parting words as Hermione's body vanished though the long stopwatch she had fingered around her neck.
****
Hermione shoulders sagged as she settled into the couch. She accioed a parchment and scribbled her request that she be permitted to work from an lab in an undisclosed location. Magically sealing it from anyone but the recipient, she attached it to her owls' leg and let it fly from the window to her supervisor. She had already made her director aware of the problems concerning potions ingredients, but her boss was too terrified to discuss matters at the Ministry, especially after Hermione's report that she'd been chased. She hadn't had time to talk to her before she had departed from Ron's office. Hermione was staying as far away from the MOM as possible. In her private labs she could brew and prepare for the upcoming trial. And there would be a trial. She had already seen it in a vision.
She kicked off her shoes and dumped her cloak on the hat stand. She missed the hook and her coat fell in a heap on the floor. She changed clothes quickly, throwing on her usual nightgown and robe. She needed rest, though she wasn't so sure the sheep would be too kind tonight. She didn't bother meditating, as was her usual nightly ritual. Sleep called to her and she let it overtake her quickly before clearing her mind of stray thoughts, the notorious seeds of premonitions ready to infiltrate her dreams.
****
Snape settled uncomfortably in his customary place behind his desk. The chair was plush, black leather, soft from wear. He had sat in the same chair, wrestling problems the same way for the better part of 17 years with his hands cradling either a cup of tea or something stronger. He squirmed, frustrated as he remembered the echoes of voices and events he couldn't remember, the once clandestine experiences of a former Death Eater magnified for everyone to hear. Snape was a private man. He couldn't bear having his life laid out for everyone to see. He knew Hermione hadn't done it on purpose to hurt him. He could not forget the look on her weathered face as she looked into his eyes apologetically. He felt he deserved no pity. She acknowledged his attempt to help the girl. She understood his sacrifice. She probably then also understood why he wasn't always able to intervene with victims like Rose.
He had reached out to her earlier, in part to silence her vocal thoughts and in part to comfort her. It was shocking to hear Potter stop him from doing just that. Harry was obviously more familiar with Hermione's talents than the others. They were distant now, but the threads of their friendship were undeniably present; if they weren't the two wouldn't be arguing so much. Snape dropped his cup down none too gently on it's saucer. He drew his frame up to it's full height and paced. It would be a long night as he pondered how he could help a drowning peer. So much for just worrying about Lucius.
Hermione's gifts were being exploited as his were, she was both trapped in a dangerous job at the Ministry and still being pursued by a vicious man who still haunted her. Many wizards and witches chose potions because they could use their knowledge and stay behind the scenes. It gave the illusion of feeling safer, away from the fray of war. However, nothing could be further from the truth. And Hermione's surprisingly strong seeing abilities made her an extremely dangerous threat to the enemy. It was crucial for this to be kept secret. The only people who knew of her gifts were in the room tonight: Remus, Harry, Minerva, Albus, and himself. Best to keep it that way. Her gifts as a potions mistress were also calling attention to the young witch; Grumble was probably aware of her discovery thanks to Cornelius Fudge, who characteristically ducked his head in the sand at any obvious sign of danger and completely bereft of any backbone to deal with it.
****
Nicholi Grumple was a formidable man. Plump could not adequately describe his girth, though he could be comparable to the likes of Vernon Dursley. He was balding and the hair ran away from his face. He appeared pleasant, deceptively jovial, appealing in a way that a smooth con-artist would be—a flim-flam man. He came from old money, but his strong work ethic had earned him many fortunes over his lifetime even without his inheritance. He had won and lost several fortunes on risky enterprises and a gambling habit. He wasn't a drinking man, but secretly owned and operated a bar in Knockturn Alley for years in order to lubricate the mechanical wheels of business and politics. Many business ventures were cut and outlined there. It was therefore also a valuable tool for spying on his competitors.
Grumple was good with potions, but particularly excelled in Herbology. The only nasty scandal of his life came when someone attempted to tie him to the marketing of a drug on the streets of the Muggle world which had been derived from the wizarding world. No charges stuck however, and he was only vaguely remembered as an expert witness in a case long ago. The proceeds from his scientific consulting on that business venture had long since fizzled out. He was young boy then, unable to negotiate a proper fee for the work on the street drug so many years ago, not as shrewd as the man who sat now beside the large antique desk overlooking the major landmarks of Rome.
With a stroke of his quill, he set off to request a tail be placed on the rather complicating potions mistress at the Ministry. She had sent one to many memos to the Minister of Magic, that had earned him at least one owl from the typically malleable politician. Since the recent injuries and deaths, Fudge was receiving pressure from the wizarding world at large. Fudge could be manipulated, as long as you always provided a way for him to save his own neck. Fudge was a politician, not unaware that he was played like a fiddle by persons such as Lucius Malfoy, and he was paid handsomely for certain seemingly innocent offerings. Only very rarely did things not work out to his benefit. If things did not go well—if Nicholi could not use his puppet strings to help cover Fudge, there would be an ousted Minister and a quickly appointed new one. Anyone would be an improvement, and as he considered the possibilities of who that might be, none of the persons who came to mind could be influenced the way Fudge could.
Yes, he would kill the meddlesome woman if need be, but it was far more satisfying to implicate her in the scheme. The Hogwarts Mudblood alumnus turned terrorist—the press would eat it up.
Hermione felt eyes follow her wherever she went around the Ministry. Even running normal errands were mentally tiring as she tried to keep track of the persons or persons tailing her. It no longer felt like Malfoy, and now she had more than a few reasons to stay out of sight and work out of a different venue. It was Grumple she was sure of it. She gathered her things and left for Ron's office were she could secretly escape out of the Ministry with no one the wiser.
At least she hoped he would. She hadn't told anyone about her situation, certainly not Ron. He got too worried too easily. But he did like to be a hero, and this is giving him the opportunity to save my neck… Maybe he'll do it.
She peeked around the corner to make sure no one was there. Ron was alone scribbling furiously. It was kind of surprising to see him applying himself this way. He'd changed since school. He'd found his calling, finding himself quite gifted at something difficult for many wizards and witches to even do. She walked under the sign Office of Magical Transportation- Portkeys. He took his job very seriously, and she hoped he would make an exception to the rules for her.
"Ron, can I have a moment?" She allowed her hushed and worried tone to encourage him to decide to close and lock his door.
" Hermione." His eyes widened a bit evaluating his friend. "Are you alright? You look scared."
"I have reason to be Ron," she said in a low whisper. "I need to get out of the Ministry. Now. I'm being followed and I need you to make me a portkey that will make my departure point and destination a secret." All registered portkeys had those things logged. Hermione had used portkeys pretty regularly for a means of transportation, most legally as she reused the same portkey almost daily to get her from outside the Ministry to a place not far from her home each day. This one would be tricky. She felt if she left the Ministry today on her usual route, she may never get safely home.
"Your not trying to disappear again are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in forever." Ron's sadness showed. Hermione felt a pang of guilt that she hadn't kept up with her close friend like she should have.
"I'm sorry Ron, I'm not trying to disappear. I'm just trying to make it harder for others to snuff me out."
"You think someone's trying to kill you? Why?" Ron sounded almost disbelieving, almost. Hermione thought a moment, gauging what she should disclose.
"I can't say much," he shot her a disgusted look, "I'm sorry! I can't…better that you not know. It has to do with this." And she pointed to the article of yesterday's Daily Prophet laying open-faced on his desk. Ron's expression considerably paled. He knew better than to speak out loud. His own father had given him a crash course in discretion before his employment began. Her frightened eyes became glassy and Ron knew his friend was serious.
Ron unlocked the left door and removed the back of the drawer. As he reached under the inside of the table, she could hear the sounds of spellotape releasing something. Ron withdrew the wand, peeling off the remaining tape and held the wand firmly in his hand. This was not the wand she knew Ron to have, though it was surely his, and likely, unregistered. She was impressed at his deception, though their years at Hogwarts certainly prepared them for such. He took a flower from the vase on his desk and his face furrowed in concentration as he performed the complex spell on one of the thorns. She could her the subtle variations in the spell that signified one traveler, one way only, and both destination and departure point would remain secret, the destination chosen by Hermione at the time of activation. The portkey would be destroyed en route. Very complicated. Hermione had new appreciation for her friend and was sorry she hadn't confided in him earlier. Once the danger had passed she silently swore she'd make it up to him.
He handed it to her wordlessly, meaningfully, with a familiar expression 'be careful 'Mione.' She mouthed a 'thank you' and grasped his hand. Ron could hear someone entering the corridor toward his office and quickly replaced the wand under his desk. Hermione touched the thorn and disappeared silently as the handle of his office door turned. Ron was again scribbling his previous note as if nothing had transpired. He looked up to see a burly wizard, wand in hand looking around, a bit confused.
"May I help you sir?" Ron asked formally.
"Sorry, wrong office." The man abruptly departed, leaving Ron with the distinct impression Hermione was much safer wherever she was.