Chapter 49. Testimony of the Dead
"I was kept locked up in some pitch black, freezing dungeon for months," claimed the skeletal ghost of Edward L. Planesse before a gathering of Ministry officials and reporters in the Ministry's Atrium yesterday afternoon. "When I knew I was going to be killed, I was so terrified no one would ever know what happened; so I stayed behind myself. I couldn't stand the thought of no one ever knowing the truth."
This reporter, Rita Skeeter, was present when the ghostly form of Planesse was led forth, as Magical Law Enforcement Patrollers brought in his recovered body, to tell a tale of premeditated abduction, persistent impersonation, certain deceit and undeniable murder.
Planesse explains how it began: "It all started after I'd come home the day I was named Lucius Malfoy's replacement; that was such a tremendous break for my career. I was about to settle in for a drink when something hit me—wham!—on the back of the head. The next thing I know I'm waking up freezing, my head's shaved and I'm starving with pounding headache. The whole time I was there I was fed barely enough to remain alive."
The ghost continued to give the details of his imprisonment by an unidentified captor and further explained how he was forced to repeatedly provide knowledge for his impersonator to be successful.
"The only face I ever saw was my own," Planesse's ghost says. "Whoever it was had stolen my life, my freedom, my identity and my job. No one would ever know I was gone. I was forced to answer questions to help him better impersonate me. He even brought home paperwork and forced me to complete it!
"I was interrogated about my personal life and habits after being dosed with Veritaserum. He told me that's what it was. He asked me everything I knew about other Ministry officials I 'd worked with. Especially about Fudge and his closest associates."
All testimony points towards the likelihood that someone, other than Edward Planesse, had been running the Finance Authority Office's investigation all these past several months. The same investigation that was meant to uncover the extent of former Finance Authority Official and now convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy's corruption and misappropriation of Ministry holdings.
This reporter has been questioning the Ministry's dedication to this investigation since it was announced back in July; coincidently, the same time the real Edward Planesse was swapped out for an impostor. This is the government that is supposed to protect its people from the ever-growing threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? This is the authority to which we, the people, are meant to turn to in this time of dark deeds and uncertainty?
Over the past two weeks alone, there've been over three dozen reported sightings of the Dark Mark, more than double that the number of murders and linked disappearances, the Minister of Magic himself was found dead after attempting theft of a high security Gringotts vault and now, a Ministry official who the country had been hoping to turn to for some answers, turns up dead with his ghost testifying that whoever was parading around the past six months as him, most certainly was not. To where do we turn now? Do we even have a Minister who is willing to step up?
Albus Dumbledore, who is as forthcoming as he is young, has kept the Wizengamot and Interim-Appointed Minister, Amelia S. Bones shrouded in secrecy the past week, since the death of former Minister Fudge. Does the crafty and slick Dumbledore have yet another trick up his sleeve? Will he finally step forward in the country's time of need to boldly stand against You-Know-Who?
Doris Crockford, a witch hailing from Dorset, says, "I sure hope Dumbledore finally takes the job. He's the only one who You-Know-Who fears and we already know You-Know-Who wants to take over the Ministry."
Crockford is certainly referring to the June incident where Dumbledore duelled the infamous, self-proclaimed Dark Lord, You-Know-Who to the point where You-Know-Who fled the Ministry, leaving eleven of his followers behind, captured.
A final Ministry investigative report on this incident was also expected to be out this past week, after execution of an investigation by Junior Undersecretary to the former minister, Percy Weasley. Weasley, who coincidentally was repeatedly quoted vouching the reliability of the impostor Planesse, was unavailable for comment at this gathering due to his having passed out cold shortly after the ghost of Planesse wafted through the doors. Weasley was later seen being levitated out of the Atrium by two unidentified Aurors. This reporter would be shocked if the young upstart, who also served as Barty Crouch's personal assistant during the time when he went missing never to be heard from again, was not interrogated and found to be serving interests other than the public's.
"Well," Hermione said, opening the morning edition of the Daily Prophet and leaning back in her chair. "That's all certainly more food for thought." She spread the open paper now upon the worn wooden table in the kitchen and looked over to see Harry cradling his head in his hands and rubbing at his forehead. "Harry?"
Harry looked up. "Huh?" He'd only been half-listening to Hermione read the newspaper; they'd already heard much of the same news the evening before when Tonks came home from work. He hadn't told Hermione yet because he wasn't quite sure he wanted to hear her worry, but his scar has started throbbing a bit the night before. Before he went to sleep, he'd managed to block out the annoying prickle and even clear his mind sufficiently from wondering what was causing it to feel anything at all now.
"It is your scar?" Hermione asked astutely, watching Harry with wide eyes and a concerned expression.
Harry abruptly dropped his hands to the table from where they'd been absently rubbing at the dull ache that persisted in his scar. "A little. Nothing much. Nothing to worry about," he hurried to assure her.
Hermione didn't look so sure.
"Really," he said looking at her imploringly. "I imagine Voldemort's just a bit brassed off that someone decided to defy him and not die properly."
It was already a foregone conclusion among Harry, Hermione and nearly everyone Tonks had spoken to at the Ministry that whoever had been impersonating Planesse and later killed him was almost surely a Death Eater. Who else would be so motivated to speedily occupy the position formerly held by Malfoy before his incarceration (or transfiguration, as it may be)? The spectre of the murdered Planesse had been ushered out of the Atrium by investigators from the Ministry who tried to assure everyone that further information would be forthcoming.
"Hmm," Hermione said, still not totally sounding convinced of the unimportance of Harry's scar acting up. "Well, I wonder why you never see more ghosts linger to point out how they died? You'd think it would happen more often, wouldn't you?" she asked now looking contemplative as she cocked her head to the side. "Why not hang around and make sure whoever did you in gets their due?"
"I dunno," Harry said remembering how mournful Nearly Headless Nick had sounded when he spoke of his being a ghost. "It's not that common, is it? Maybe it's difficult."
Hermione frowned; she had no immediate answer so it was likely true she'd never read a book on it. Harry thought it sounded like becoming a ghost was a rather permanent thing and, while some people might not look forward to going on to death, he, Harry could see very well that most people would wish to go on to wherever it was everyone went when they died.
Harry picked at the remains of his cereal and, as his scar continued to prickle with pain, picked up his mug of tea and downed the last of it.
"Do you have any homework left to finish before we head back?" he asked, wiping his chin with the cuff of his sweatshirt.
Hermione looked back up from where she was still perusing the newspaper and said, "Oh, well, I never did get a chance to spend any time working on my warding project for Snape. I want to at least go through the library here and see if I can find anything." She paused, watching Fang stretch out lazily across the hearthstone. "I also need to finish the last bit on the potion for the mirror. It should be done Saturday morning and then I can enchant the mirrors and make sure they work before we have to leave."
Harry nodded. They were heading back to Hogwarts a day before all the other students who'd gone home for the holiday would return. Friday afternoon they'd be Apparating back to Hogsmeade and then making the trek to the castle. Remus had said he wanted to go with them but, as the full moon was that very evening, neither Harry nor Hermione believed Remus would be recovered enough in two days to make the trip by Apparition.
In fact, they weren't even sure Remus would be back from wherever it was he had left for the previous day. He'd left before Tonks came skipping home with the news of Planesse (and Percy's embarrassment) and told them in no uncertain terms that he would be spending the next three nights in a safe place. He claimed that with so many people staying at the house, it was much easier for him to go somewhere else.
Hermione had made a comment about him being harmless with the Wolfsbane but Remus, uncharacteristically, had just scowled at this and mumbled something incoherent. Harry was a bit concerned at this but Hermione assured him it was normal for a werewolf to get tetchy around that time of the month.
Getting up and walking over to her simmering cauldron, Hermione asked, "Do you think Andy would be any help to me on that warding paper? She is a pureblood and might know something."
The door swung open then and Mr. and Mrs. Granger, each yawning good morning in turns, entered the kitchen as Winky cracked into view and set to bustling about in the pantry.
"Good morning, Sweetheart," Hermione's father said to her as he ambled over to peer over her shoulder at her cauldron. He wrinkled his nose at the smell and said, "I'm just glad you're not cooking."
Mrs. Granger smiled at Harry as Winky now appeared with two more serving sets and a fresh pot of tea.
"Thanks, Winky," Harry said as she nodded shyly and then bustled quickly out of the way. She never did take to conversation like Dobby.
"So," Mr. Granger said, settling down beside his wife and smiling at her as he held out a mug for tea. "Two more days before it's back to work for the both of you, eh?"
Harry nodded, absently rubbing at his forehead again and said, "Yeah. You'll both be staying here? You'll be fine, right?"
Mr. Granger frowned in spite of himself and Mrs. Granger was the one who answered, "I think we'll manage to amuse ourselves. I'm rather looking forward to it, really. I'm taking it as an opportunity to live a life of leisure and do something I've always wanted to do."
"What's that—sit around and do nothing?" her husband teased.
She swatted him once on the arm before answering, "No, you. I...well I always wanted to write a book. You know, the great epic novel and all that. Although I doubt it'll be an epic and I'm sure it won't be all that great."
"Oh, Mum, that'll be wonderful for you," Hermione said as she wiped her hands on her jeans and strode back over to the table to join them. "Maybe I can help you this summer with editing or proofreading or such. Dad," she said turning to her father who was tucking into a plateful of sausages with gusto, "how will you keep busy? Didn't I hear you talking to Remus about helping him to restore some of those antiques from the attic?"
Philip Granger nodded with his mouth full, chewed hastily as he tilted his head from side to side and then finally swallowed. "Yes, that's right. I looked at some of the pieces he's got and," he shook his head with appreciation, "they are beauties; eighteenth and nineteenth century real deals and all need quite a bit of work. Remus said he learned to do restoration and woodworking from his father and without magic. Says it's a hobby for relaxation. I told him I'd lay out for some other investment pieces—his choice—and then we can both work on them and see if we can reap a profit."
"How much?" his wife asked with eyes narrowed over her cup of tea.
"Oh not much," Mr. Granger said waving his hand at her. "Not anything to concern anyone." She gave him the same look Hermione often gave Harry when she suspected he wasn't being entirely forthcoming. "A few quid." The look persisted. "Maybe a bit more. Oh, what's the difference? We've got all the payout from the insurance on the house and with us not buying a new one right now, why not do a little investing?"
"I see," Mrs. Granger said slowly. "And how much investing do you plan to do?" she asked softly.
Harry felt a tug at his sleeve and found Hermione jerking her head towards the door as she rolled her eyes in the direction of her parents. He smiled and gave a quick look aback the Grangers; they weren't about to miss him if he left. He muttered, "See you later," and hurried out the door after Hermione.
It was common for Hermione's parents to descend into 'discussions' of sorts where Mrs. Granger always seemed to poke and prod with questions until she uncovered all the facts and motives of her husband in nearly any decision he tried to make. It was a bit unnerving to Harry at times as she often tended to remind him of Hermione at her worst.
~
Harry and Hermione worked the rest of the morning away with Hermione searching through the library and Harry desperately trying to change the color of his hair from its normal jet black to anything else. He'd only recently realized that being able to change how he looked might just possibly mean he could wander about in public without any fear of being recognized. It was something he'd only realized after Moody pointed it out as he administered a crash course in basic stealth manoeuvres for Aurors one afternoon.
Harry's successes thus far, despite this newfound motivation, were negligible. Of course that could be due in large part to him spending two whole days focusing on nothing but trying to get rid of his scar—something with which he'd had absolutely zero success. Harry had managed to cause a few other scars to fade noticeably—such as the one on his knee from where the Acromantula had got him, the one in his shoulder from the Basilisk fang and the one in the crook of his arm where Wormtail had taken his blood. But the lightning bolt upon his forehead had never once faded even the teeny tiniest bit.
"Does this look brown to you?" he asked Hermione as he peered into a handheld mirror that he held propped up on his chest as he slouched in an armchair in the library.
"Is it supposed to be brown?" she asked as she continued to pull out one book, flip through a few pages, put it back and then pull out another.
"Something. I'm trying to just lighten my hair. I think it's darkish brown now."
Hermione paused and looked over at Harry. "No, it still looks black to me," she said making him sigh in frustration.
He flicked his wrist, pointed his wand at his head of hair and said, "Capillus mutato blond." His jet-black hair turned instantly to pure blond.
"Ugh, you look like a Malfoy," Hermione said as she looked over her shoulder at him and shuddered before turning back to the shelves and shelves of books.
Harry grinned and went back to his mirror; focusing on slowly changing his hair from bright blond, to darker blond, to light golden brown, to dark brown and then finally back to his normal black. He could feel the magic about him working to effect the change as he did it but just couldn't quite catch it and command it yet to work in the other directions. He knew the key to his mastering this was there somewhere in what he was feeling. He felt like he was so close to picking it out but it still escaped him; like water seeping through his cupped hands.
A knock at the door made Harry and Hermione each look up.
"Hello," Andy Tonks said serenely with a nod as she entered the library, proffering out a rolled up newspaper towards Hermione. "Delivery for you. Seems like a special edition," she said as Hermione pushed back a strand of hair from her face and reached for the paper.
Harry noted that Andy leaned back then against the large desk and clasped her hands across her stomach. It was an odd sort of pose that he'd seen her do more than once. He turned his attention back to Hermione as she unrolled the familiar looking Daily Prophet and read from the top. "Amelia Bones New Minister for Magic!" Hermione looked excitedly at Harry before she returned to the paper to read more. "Wizengamot adjourns after swearing in new minister, hearing testimony from—" Crack!
Tonks, breathless and dressed in her full Auror gold, was panting as she Apparated into the room and made Hermione nearly drop the paper in surprise. "Did you—" she wheezed,"—hear—" pant, "—the news?"
Hermione slid her eyes from the dishevelled Tonks back to the newspaper. "—hearing testimony from the ghost of the recently murdered Edward Planesse, and conducting the formal inquiry and trial of Percy Ignatius Weasley for conspiracy to commit fraud and abet murder!" Hermione read the last few words slowly and stopped with her mouth hanging open. "Oh...my..."
Tonks was nodding vigorously now and spoke rapidly as she said, "Yeah, yeah. I was there. Well, not in the courtroom, but outside of it and I heard everyone talk when they came out before the press release went out. Percy is claiming the Imperius. I guess Dumbledore did the counter curse to it or such. Percy snapped awake then and started blubbing his eyes out saying he couldn't help it."
"What?" Harry said with mingled disgust, disbelief and spite. The last thing Harry wanted was for Percy to suddenly become some poor, pitiful sod that was taken unwittingly and now bore no responsibility for his actions. Harry felt quite certain Percy was guilty of something.
Tonks nodded again. "Yeah, but it's still not adding up. He's being held for now. Undergoing—" she paused here and looked like she wanted to both giggle and shudder, "—a full body search—unngh!" She made a retching sound to show what she thought of that task and went on: "They're looking for the Dark Mark on him."
Hermione, still holding the paper up and scanning over it, read, "Auror, Noble Rank, Kingsley F. Shacklebolt was named the new department head for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in Minister Bones' first act as official minister."
Tonks squealed. "You should have seen it—Kingsley looked so..." she shook herself. "Well, you should have seen it. Oh! And there're a whole slew of Fudge's old cronies that everyone's suspected for some time as being...well, shifty—they're all going to be investigated. Well, not just them—anyone who worked closely with Fudge, Planesse, Percy—you name it; they're all being called forth to give testimony starting tonight." Tonks nodded again for emphasis and beamed at her mother then.
"Kingsley called together a group of Aurors—including your most favorite daughter—and we're putting together a task force to flush out any plants with, er, questionable loyalties in the Auror units." Tonks made a face and then sing-songed, "Dawlish is already gone and undergoing inquiry." She checked her wristwatch then. "I need to be back at five for my shift on the force. With any luck I'll get to interrogate that little pillock myself. I never have liked him ever since he called me a klutz."
Harry had to laugh. "But you are a klutz," he said with a bemused smile.
Tonks shrugged. "Yeah, but you say it and it's endearing. He said it like it was a bad thing."
Hermione walked with the paper over to the small round table and sat down without ever looking up from the paper.
Andy put her arm around her daughter and Tonks leaned back into her, smiling as she dropped a kiss onto her mother's cheek. It was a candid moment between them and the very fact that is was such a truthful and private little moment was why Harry was compelled to stare. If he were forced to admit it, he'd have to say he always felt himself drawn to watch whenever Tonks and Andy interacted quietly. Just like Harry was drawn to watch Mr. and Mrs. Granger; with them, Harry was always fascinated to see little mannerisms he'd always only associated with Hermione being displayed by her parents. It often made him wonder if he possessed any mannerisms that were once characteristic of his parents.
"Mum," Tonks said in a bewildered voice, "why are you always clutching your belly like that? Did you try to eat curry again?"
Andy just smiled indulgently. "Oh you'll soon see, my girl. Perhaps a new brother or sister can explain it to you."
Tonks sighed deeply and looked at her mother pityingly as she bit down on her lower lip. "Mum," Tonks started tiredly. "You're not still on about that, are you?" Tonks quickly gave Harry a commiserating look. "Mum, you've been to see Healer Evermoor twice in the past two months—don't you think she'd have noticed if you were pregnant? And I hardly think you've been doing anything since...well...maybe you should lie down. Do you want some tea? Perhaps some nice camomile with honey and a kip will have you feeling more yourself."
Tonks threw an apologizing look over her shoulder as she ushered her mother out of the room. Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it but, then again, Andy Tonks was a paragon of irrationality and unfounded logic from his experience.
"Listen to this, Harry," Hermione said as she folded back a page of the special edition Daily Prophet. "The ghost gave lurid details about how his captor, who'd only ever appeared to him as himself, performed the murder." She paused and looked up at Harry. "They obviously used Polyjuice to impersonate him and to make sure he never saw their true identity." She went back to reading. "Planesse tells how his would-be murderer used an unnamed curse that effectively strangled him to death. Trauma marks were then identified as present on the neck and windpipe of the ghost. He says, 'It was slow enough so it gave me time to think. But I knew I was going to die. He had all the time in the world to off me. I just wanted to make him pay.' Later Planesse tells of the moment his murderer was faced with the ghost. 'He'd just dumped my body in the bog and I wasn't sure if I was dead or alive. But I felt myself wafting up from the muck and met him eye to eye. He fled—terrified!' Planesse recalls triumphantly. 'I'd have haunted him all across the isle and back if he hadn't have Disapparated. I then tried to lead anyone I could find back to the bog to find my body.' The ghost could not, unfortunately, give any helpful details as to who his captor or captors were or who his impersonator was. For that mystery, investigators are hoping to turn to those known to have worked closely with the man who appeared to be Edward Planesse for the past six months."
Harry sat as Hermione finished reading. "Wasn't this guy mates with Fudge?" he asked. "Didn't Bill say he saw Fudge and this guy Planesse meeting with the Goblins a few times when they were trying to get into the Malfoy vault?"
Hermione dropped the paper and looked thoughtfully at Harry. "I do recall that, yes. Which only goes to prove, yet more, that it's how we've been saying all along. Whoever it was, was Voldemort's plant in the Ministry. He must have been the one who pressured Fudge into trying to get at the vault. Assume it was Karkaroff himself—he abducts this poor man, impersonates him, gets to go through and clear away any unfinished business of Malfoy's while whispering in Fudge's ear. He could have even had the Minister under Imperius for all we know!"
"Fudge is pretty...predictable," Harry said. "He could have just been whispering in his ear all sorts of things to get Fudge paranoid. He probably didn't even have to curse him."
"And if all Voldemort wanted was some book that Lucius Malfoy had tucked away somewhere, how better to search for it than to use the guy who's supposed to be investigating Malfoy!" Hermione said. "He must have had access to all his files and stuff at the Ministry."
"Yes," Harry said nodding. "He checks Malfoy's work and can't find it. He tries to get into the vault—Snape said he heard Karkaroff say they didn't find the book—do you think that means they did get the vault open enough to look?"
"How?" Hermione asked, bewildered.
Harry shrugged. "Dunno but Voldemort managed to help Quirrell break into the vault that had the Philosopher's Stone, didn't he? He must know of some ways. Maybe they cast Imperius on a Goblin? Maybe they bribed him?"
"If anyone managed to get into the vault, I think they must have had a Goblin working with him. Goblin magic is notoriously resistant to wizards' magic."
Harry protested, "But if anyone could, it'd be Voldemort—"
"But Voldemort wasn't the one who went through the vault and didn't find the book," Hermione interjected. "Voldemort was back at wherever he hangs out. Snape was there too. Whoever went through—whether it was Karkaroff or someone he sent, they were not Voldemort. I say they had a Goblin helping them."
Harry rested his chin on his hands now. "So how did Fudge end up in the vault then? And who killed the Goblin?"
Hermione bit her lower lip and paused before saying, "Say whoever was acting all this time as Planesse has been filling Fudge full of all sorts of reasons Fudge would like to get into the Malfoy vault. Maybe he convinced him he deserved a chunk of the money that was in there. Maybe he convinced Fudge that Malfoy had something that could incriminate Fudge. Who knows—either way, Planesse has Fudge believing he wants to get into the vault and, specifically, get to a certain book it seems. Asking the Goblins straight out doesn't work, trying to amend the charter to get into the vault doesn't work, and so what's left but to go for it themselves by breaking in? Planesse goes in with Fudge—Voldemort possibly told his servant, the one impersonating Planesse, how to get in. I still bet he had to use a Goblin—they had to have help from the inside. Say they pay one off—Snape even said how it was possible for a Goblin to decide to sell out for the right price. So they get a Goblin to help them, lead them to the right vault and open it. Planesse goes in, looks for the book he needs. Fudge goes in, looking like a kid in a sweetshop, I bet. Planesse can't find it. His job impersonating Planesse must be done. He's searched every last place he had to look for Malfoy's book. He walks out of the vault and decides he's done his job there. There's no reason to keep Fudge around and so he slams the vault door shut on Fudge and orders the Goblin to reseal the vault—or maybe the vault reseals itself. Either way, he probably offs the Goblin then right there, too. Can't have a witness left, can you?"
Harry found himself nodding along but then stopped and asked, "Ok, I can see all that. But what I want to know about now is this book. What is it? Where is it? If it's not in Malfoy's last place of work and it's not in his Gringotts vault, then where is it?"
Hermione seemed to be following Harry's thinking now. "It can't just be at their home," she said slowly.
Harry finished her thought, "Because then either Draco or his mother or Bellatrix who probably hangs out there could just get it."
Neither could work out any more on where this elusive book might be and Harry began to get more and more curious as to what this book might be. Tonks was good for little other than relaying the gossip from the Ministry and offered none of the details that might help makes things more clear. Hermione was loath to have to wait until they returned to Hogwarts in two days until they might hope to hear more from Dumbledore but Harry saw little alternative.
That night, as they lay in bed curled around each other, Hermione kept postulating every possible explanation she could dream up. Harry had half a mind to ask her to stop as it was only filling his head with more and more stuff to think about, but as he noted his scar was no longer prickling, he began to drift off to the sound of Hermione's voice mingled with an echoing host of ever-present voices.
~
~
"Remus, you look—no offence now—but you look like shite," Tonks said bluntly. "It's Saturday and I've the time to go with Harry and Hermione. You just...rest. Merlin, you look like you need it. Did I even look this bad when I had two sacks of boneless skin hanging from my knees? Keep Mumsy company. She's knitting baby booties now, the twit."
"She still thinks she's pregnant?" Remus asked. Remus looked worse for wear than Harry had ever seen him after a full moon. He'd come home that morning through the front door and looking like he'd been wrestling a Blast Ended Skrewt.
"Yeah, she's still on about that," Tonks said with both embarrassment and exasperation. "I don't see how she thinks it's possible. If it was...you know, Dad's, then I think the Healers would have noticed when she's seen them before. She's stuck in the mud though on this."
Hermione exchanged a look with Harry who was trying not to stare at the angry red wounds on the back of Remus' hand. Consequently, Harry could barely bring himself to find his roast beef sandwich appetizing.
"Maybe," Hermione said, "the Healers were only looking for problems when they gave your mum a check-up, Tonks. We learned in our Healing class that there're basic diagnostic charms they can use to check for anything that's wrong. But if she was pregnant, then that's not necessarily a problem, is it?"
Miranda Granger, also seated at the drawing room table for Harry and Hermione's last lunch before they had to leave, said, "You know, I knew I was pregnant with Hermione before I took any test. I just knew. I wouldn't discount her saying she believes she's pregnant until you have absolute proof she isn't."
"Well," Tonks said reaching to refill her pumpkin juice, "I told her I'd take her back to Healer Evermoor next week and get an answer once and for all. I don't see how it could be true but I suspect it's just her way of trying to cope with...you know, with losing Dad." Tonks made a quick movement to wipe at her eyes then and, with an elbow, knocked over her just refilled glass of juice. "Oh, hell! I'm such a such a dolt!"
Mrs. Granger moved at once to stop the spreading juice with her serviette and Hermione waved her wand, muttering, "Evanesco," to clear away the spilled liquid.
Remus, who'd gotten splashed with the spilt juice, pointed to his now wet jumper and asked, "Hermione? A Drying Charm, if you would?"
Tonks laughed with a choked off sob and dropped her head into her hands. "I always wanted a younger brother or sister. Someone to tell what to do and drive nuts, you know?"
"Tonks," Remus said wryly as he patted the front of his jumper. "I think we knew perfectly well."
Tonks just grinned back at him. "Yeah, I reckon I drive all of you nuts, eh?" She swiped again at her eyes with the back of a hand and laughed again as she said, "Look at me, blubbing away as bad as ickle Percy."
Harry shot Hermione a dark look. They both were frustrated with the lack of news from the investigation into Percy. Thus far, all that had been said was Percy was effusively apologetic and always seen entering and leaving the courtrooms with red-rimmed eyes and wads of tissues in his hands.
Molly Weasley, sobbing more tears than it would take to fill up a giant's tankard, had been reported to now be sitting vigil outside the courtroom where Percy was being investigated during the day. She'd worn out even the most desperate of reporters after merely a day and still would cling to anyone who passed near enough as she told them how her Percy was merely misguided, a good boy, confused by the Ministry's politics and not at all evil like any of those nasty Death Eaters.
The final verdict on Percy was yet to pass and Harry was all too ready to throw a fit if Percy wasn't held responsible for something. The memory of Percy acting so vindictively smug at Harry's disciplinary hearing a year and half ago and the memory of Percy so smugly victorious over watching Dumbledore be charged with a crime was all too fresh in his mind.
After lunch, while fierce hugs between Hermione and her parents were exchanged, Remus and Harry exchanged a brief farewell. Truth be told, Harry was very pleased Remus would not be left alone at Grimmauld Place the next term. Both the Grangers were remaining there of course and so were Tonks and her mother. It was an odd group at times, to say the least, but Harry was happy Remus had someone to keep him company, Tonks was happy someone was there to keep her mum company and Hermione was happy someone was there to keep her parents both safe and occupied.
She'd enchanted the mirrors this morning and, to her great relief, they now worked for her mother and father. Even now, as farewells were being exchanged, Mrs. Granger reached out to pull Harry into an embrace as she said, "We're very, very grateful to you, Harry. For allowing us to remain here and for lending us the mirror, we are ever so grateful. I know it came from your godfather and you didn't have to give it up."
"No, er, no problem, Mrs. Granger," Harry said as he awkwardly hugged her back. "I hope you're both able to enjoy yourselves here."
Hermione smile discreetly at Harry as she saw him being hugged by her mother. Mr. Granger then proceeded to give Harry a firm handshake and said, "So, I am glad I got to know you better, Harry; especially after we, er, got off to a rather shaky start."
Harry nodded and felt distinctly uncomfortable. They'd gone two and half weeks without Mister Granger bringing up his initial animosity towards Harry and Harry was much more comfortable with denial of the whole incident. "Er, no problem," was all he said as he hoped Tonks would hurry up and get down here so the three of them could leave already.
As if that were not enough to make Harry turn red and feel awkward, Mister Granger then decided to lean in and say, "You will behave now back at school, won't you? I'm trusting you with my only daughter, young man." He arched an eyebrow for effect.
Harry swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yes, sir."
~
~
A trio of blond-haired, blue-eyed, tanned people made the trek from Hogsmeade to the Hogwarts castle.
"I feel like a Malfoy," Harry grumbled as he tried to pull the hood of his cloak tighter.
"Nah," Tonks said as she skipped along beside them. "You're far too well tanned. Malfoys are pale and pasty."
It was Tonks' last little training bit for Harry and part of their plan to ensure they attracted no trouble on the short walk after their arrival that Tonks adopted a new look for herself and then made Harry try to copy her. He wasted no time in casting the spells with his wand upon himself, Hermione following suit, so that they all looked like some small family of Swedish purebloods. Harry knew he was no good yet at using his Metamorphmagus skills to effect such changes and argued with Tonks when she pouted that he'd use his skills when he arrived at the castle to change back.
"So, has either of you spoken to Ron, yet?" Tonks inquired as they rounded a bend and followed the path beside the iced-over river that opened up to eventually be the lake at Hogwarts. "You three all parted in rather a poor way from what I recall."
Harry and Hermione both sighed in unison, answering the question more or less. "I've barely had time to even think about Ron," Harry admitted, feeling a tad ashamed at the truth of it.
Hermione hummed her agreement. "I've thought about him, but, well, they've not been good thoughts. I suppose we'll need to prepare to see him tomorrow as well," she said with dread evident in her voice.
Tonks grimaced at them in sympathy as they crunched along over the snow covered path and said, "I saw Bill a few times the past week and he said he'd asked Ron to stay with him and Fleur for a few days. You know, to get out of the Burrow and hopefully stop his sulking. Bill seems to be blaming himself that Fleur was the one who Ron overheard when he blew up."
"Well," said Harry with a hard edge to his voice, "hopefully he's ready to apologize. I did more than my part to explain to him how I felt before he left after the Celebration."
Tonks looked to Hermione like she expected Hermione to voice some words of wisdom to Harry here, perhaps convince him to be more understanding of Ron. But the only thing Tonks saw when she looked at Hermione was the same hard look. Perhaps it was just the blond hair and blue eyes, Tonks mused as she tried to recall ever having seen such a cold, indifferent look on both Harry and Hermione's faces.
They crossed through the main gates of the castle to see a few tentacles of the giant squid playfully poking holes up through the ice.
"Are you coming in, Tonks?" Harry asked as they were heading down the last stretch leading up to the castle steps.
She nodded happily and said, "You betcha'. McGonagall owled me a few days ago and asked for a summary of your progress with the metamorph stuff." She shrugged guiltily, saying, "I'm rather lazy so I thought I'd just walk up with you and talk to her in person. I've given you all the exercises and explanations, Harry. It's really up to you to figure out how to use it now. Hard to explain, really. It all just came to me real easy."
In the castle, they were greeted almost immediately by Filch whose idea of greeting was a grunt and a beady, one-eyed stare.
"Who're you?" he growled as Mrs. Norris leapt down from his arms and trotted over to sniff them each suspiciously.
"Wotcher there, Filchy boy!" Tonks called out, not caring one whit about Filch or his stupid feline fur bag.
Harry groaned audibly and nudged Hermione who was closest to him. Now that Filch was here, the old grouch wasn't about to leave. Harry also had the urge to not let Filch know that he and Hermione knew how to change their appearances.
"What'd yeh call me, missy?" Filch said in a low growl as he eyed Tonks up and down. Mrs. Norris quickly left them alone and went back to rubbing up against Filch's mouldy leg. "What do you think, my sweet? Trespassers?"
Tonks was undeterred in her cheerfulness. "You want to fetch McGonagall for us, or are you going to make us tramp about through the halls to find her?" Tonks asked as she pointedly stomped her feet which left little melted puddles of snow on the Entrance Hall floor.
Harry had to fight back a snicker before he heard the vaguest swish of a cloak behind him, followed by a glimpse of fluttering black robes that could only mean one person.
"Problems, Argus?" Snape inquired slowly as he stalked around the blond trio. "What have we here?" he murmured almost to himself as he surveyed them.
"Found 'em," Filch said with a snort. "Trying to force their way in, they were. I rounded 'em up for yeh, Professor." Harry felt a tremendous amount of disdain for the old caretaker right about now.
"You're full of shite, you know," Tonks said conversationally. She turned then to Snape and grinned salaciously as she batted her eye, saying, "Severus, how simply charming to see you again! You do remember me, don't you?"
Harry had to fight back the gagging that threatened to make him retch.
"Tonks!" Hermione said as she swatted their supposed adult escort on the arm.
Snape crossed him arms and now glared at them all with narrowed eyes. "I see then. Argus, do go tell the Deputy Headmistress her guests have arrived," he commanded without ever taking his eyes off of them. "Well?" he said imperiously as Filch slunk off down a side corridor.
Tonks screwed up her face and morphed back to the most normal of her normal selves as Hermione used her wand to counter the spells she'd used upon her hair, eyes and skin. Harry, however, waited until Tonks turned to watch him expectantly before he closed his eyes and focused on drawing his surrounding magic in towards himself. He felt a cool wash of air cross his face as the tan faded and saw the blue change to green as he closed his eyes. His hair, he knew would be back to black without even a second thought. When he opened his eyes, Tonks was beaming at him as usual and Snape was watching him with one eyebrow arched. Harry entertained the notion that Snape was impressed.
"Five and half years here and you've finally found a talent other than chasing about little balls on a quidditch pitch," Snape said derisively to Harry. "I finally see why you're the hope of the Wizarding world. Ah, such clarity now on the heels of blindness."
As Snape sneered and stalked off across the Entrance Hall, Harry thought, well, so much for being impressed. Git.
McGonagall met them as they were making their way up the staircase to the fourth floor.
"Good afternoon," she greeted. "Ah, Nymphadora—I do hope you've been working Mister Potter, here?"
"Not as hard as Hermione here, but sure!" Tonks said unabashedly. Hermione swatted her on the arm yet again as McGonagall's lips drew themselves into a thin line.
"I see," she said in a disapproving tone that actually managed to make Tonks look ashamed. "Well, Mister Potter, Miss Granger, why don't the two of you go settle in up at your dormitories. I believe you're well aware that Professor Dumbledore has been absent from the school for the past two weeks. I know Remus is recovering at this moment and I know Alastor has been extremely busy helping at the Ministry but I do think it would behove us to meet briefly this evening."
"Yes, Professor," Harry said as Hermione nodded.
McGonagall nodded. "Very well. After dinner then in my office. The password for the portrait hole is Glumbumble."
Harry and Hermione both waved to Tonks who looked like she almost wished she were still a student and could scamper off to the dormitories with them.
"I'm dying to hear from Dumbledore," Hermione said as they continued their trek up three more flights of stairs. "I wonder if Ginny might have some news on Percy when she gets here."
"Not sure," Harry said. "But I am sure that you and I have about three hours to burn before we have to be down for dinner." He gave Hermione a pointed look as he said this and saw her have to fight to keep a straight face.
"I take it you want to go to the library then and study?" she said innocently.
"Glumbumble!" Harry said with a grin as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open for them. "Only if one of your fantasies involves snogging in the Restricted Section."
~
~
It was very lucky for Harry and Hermione that Madame Pince did not spend her holidays at Hogwarts and had not a clue of the things that were done in the presence of all her precious and beloved books.
Harry and Hermione found it very difficult to stop grinning throughout dinner and were very grateful that they were the only two people seated at the Gryffindor table. There was a pair of both Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs present. Professor Flitwick, who sat with his Ravenclaws, was the only other one present in the Great Hall for dinner.
After eating, they made their way to McGonagall's office and, as soon as they neared the open door, Harry heard the unmistakable low baritone of Snape coming from her office.
"I don't see why I need be present. I have more pressing matters to attend to if I might," he said almost in a sulk as Harry and Hermione entered through the open door.
"Severus, stop being petulant. We might as well all try to get on the same page as one another. Come in, both of you," she said as she spied her students entering. She gestured over to a small round table with four chairs. "Let's be seated here and get on with this so Professor Snape can hurry and leave to attend his very pressing matters." She sniffed as if she thought his pressing matters consisted of haunting his own dungeon and practicing his sneering in a mirror.
Their meeting consisted of Hermione going through a point by point summary of all they'd put together thus far in connection with Fudge's death, the elusive book of Lucius Malfoy's, the whole issue of Planesse and Voldemort's possible influences. The main point of which was that all these things seemed very much connected indeed.
Snape seemed to fear the possibility that he'd appear interested in the discussions and Harry noticed that he continually kept his gaze trained upon a black quill that he repeatedly twirled in his right hand. Despite Harry's firm belief that Snape was a greasy git, Harry still found himself wondering if said git agreed with any of Harry and Hermione's theories. Harry realized he wasn't alone when McGonagall finally spoke up and asked, "Severus? What do you make of all this?"
The quill finally paused in its twirling and Snape refocused his attention on McGonagall as if that in itself was a chore. "You know quite well I feel this is pointless and a waste of time until the Headmaster returns and can flat out tell us what has happened. I've heard little else here besides unsubstantiated speculation that apparently any idiot can piece together." He sniffed and returned his attention to his quill.
McGonagall allowed a slight smirk to play upon her lips and said to Hermione, "I believe Professor Snape is trying to say he agrees with your assumptions thus far."
Snape's mouth opened as if he planned to protest this absurd notion but then he clamped it shut again; his sharp beak of a nose rising loftily into the air. "I said no such thing," he muttered darkly to no one in particular.
Finished with catching up, McGonagall thanked Snape effusively for his precious spare time and watched with a smirk as the git sneered and rose to leave.
"Potter," she said then. "We'll have to wait to firm up a training schedule for your work on self-transfiguration. I'll see if I can find a way to work in specific assignments for you to do while the other students work on wand spells in class."
Harry nodded and, turning to leave, saw that Snape had just said something that ended in him smirking knowingly at Hermione. Harry walked closer then to them and heard Hermione's reply.
"Actually, it might not hurt you to know, Professor Snape, that I used it to enchant a pair of two-way mirrors," Hermione said archly. "They're meant to allow me and my parents to keep in touch but as they are residing at Headquarters, it might be well to keep in mind that I have a very secure means of communicating with the people there."
Snape made no comment as Hermione turned to leave, catching Harry's hand on the way out as she left.
*~*~* ~ * ~ *~*~*
I will remind you that there is a Yahoo group for this fic. The group name is HP_AoF and a link to the site can be found on my bio page. ~~~Cheers~~~