The voice that rang out caught Harry completely off-guard. He turned around, not knowing what to expect. Hermione had already spun around, holding her wand out, ready to attack. The voice called out again and this time it sounded extremely familiar. They both stood there, wands ready, until the figure stepped into the glow of the streetlamp. It was Oliver Wood.
"Harry! Hermione? I thought that looked like you two," he looked at their wands, "What are you doing?"
Utterly bewildered, they swiftly lowered their wands, "Oliver! Hey, IWe were just-"
"Ah, don't worry about it. You can never be too careful nowadays, especially with You-Know-Who on the loose. So how are you doing?"
Harry looked up at his quidditch mentor. Oliver was still tall and lanky, but the appearance of several cuts and bruises were new. "Fine. You?"
"Good. Just got back from a late quidditch practice."
They proceeded to catch up on what's happened in each other's lives since the World Cup.
"So, now that you're finished playing at Hogwarts, are you thinking about joining a professional league? I heard the Wimbourne Wasps are looking for a seeker."
Harry didn't know how to respond, playing professional quidditch would draw too much attention to himself, and the Order. He staggered for a bit, trying to come up with something, when Hermione quickly jumped in.
"Harry, we really ought to be going, we promised to help Mrs. Weasley degnome tomorrow."
Seizing this excuse, he completely ignored Oliver's question and acted as if he were reluctant to go. Wood, however, seemed dejected.
"Oh, alright. You two come and support Puddlemere sometime, I reckon we have a damn good chance of going national." Oliver said as he walked back into the dark.
Harry and Hermione waited until Wood was out of eyesight before apparating again, putting them in front of the Winston Bay. It was dubbed Big John by teenage muggles, because to them it looked like a giant sewage puddle, but Winston Bay didn't appear to Harry as anything but home.
The two stared at the water for a minute before jumping in. The sensation was almost as majestic as riding a broomstick for the first time, and it lasted quite a while before they both emerged, completely dry, on the front porch.
Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door, "Barricadalous!" The door unlocked, allowing it to creak open. They stepped inside and the door closed behind them, blocking out all light. Not wanting to wake Ron, Hermione crept silently through the hallway, illuminating each lamp as Harry followed closely behind her. Finally reaching the dining room, Harry stepped forward, smashing his foot against a chair.
"Ouch! Hermione, how is it you know my house better than I do?"
She shrugged, "Well, I did help find it," while lighting the last candle, making the whole house visible. They sat down at the table as Harry summoned two cups of tea. The two talked for a while about the night's events before a loud thud startled them.
Wands reflexively ready, they ran upstairs and threw the guest room door open. Lying on the floor sleeping was Ron. Still alarmed, they checked around, only to have their suspicions confirmed, Ron had only rolled out of his bed. Hermione couldn't suppress her laughter and had to go out into the hall while Harry wingardium leviosa'd the peacefully sleeping Ron back into his bed.
Walking down the stairs, he saw Hermione put on her cloak and step outside.
"I should go home and get some sleep before the trip tomorrow. Bye, Harry."
He said goodbye and shut the door as she disappeared from the porch.
Feeling very restless, he sat down at the kitchen table looking through pictures of his family. Harry couldn't help but smile when he came across a picture of his parents smiling and waving while hiking a trail. Turning the page, he came face to face with Sirius; looking the happiest Harry had ever seen him. Feeling his stomach turn over, Harry grabbed the back cover to slam it shut when Sirius's radiant expression quickly deteriorated and he began to point to the left. Harry sat, frozen to his seat, and turned toward the direction that Sirius was pointing.
An eerie, bright light was projecting from the study in long, steady pulses. After rubbing his eyes and doing a double take, Harry looked back down at the album but his godfather had returned to his normal jovial self. The glowing remained though, and he walked towards it, curious to find out what it was. The pulsing moved faster and faster as he got closer. Harry finally reached the doorway and, without hesitation, advanced into the blinding light.
He stepped into a room no longer full of books and desks, but people and the smell of alcohol. Harry looked around completely perplexed; he was back inside of the Angry Dragon. The first thing he thought to do was find the time. Hanging on a wall, very battered and dusty, was a clock that read 12:13.
"But that means..." Harry turned around, and sure enough he and Hermione sat in a badly lit corner, casting the spell on each other. He walked right past wizards that were singing and passing out on tables, obviously not noticing his presence. This feeling was all too familiar to Harry, he'd been invisible once before, some six years ago while walking through Riddle's memory. He sat down next to himself, watching the pair of them sitting in concentration.
The crowd became rowdier and after a few minutes of waiting, he began to wonder, why was he here, and what was that bright light. As fate would have it, a very young wizard walked into the pub and headed straight for one of the private rooms behind the bar. Suddenly suspicious, Harry followed past the drunks and tiptoed into the room as someone cast the spell, "Espynerous!"
The young wizard was now sitting across from two ancient looking men, who were staring at him with great dislike. One spoke with a harsh, raspy voice.
"What is it this time, Hastling?
Harry was strongly reminded of Quirrel as Hastling began to stammer and twiddle his thumbs nervously.
"II-I, well, I have re-reason to b-believe that some ministry workers kn-know too much."
It was the other wizard's turn to speak, "Tell us something we don't know."
"I-I can name names."
This seemed to spark their interest a little, Hastling noticed and started to name off people.
"K-Kramer, Stepp, S-S-Shacklebolt, and Ng-nguyen."
"Shacklebolt and Nguyen, eh? Always knew too much for their own good."
Hastling shook his head, but continued to look down at his feet.
Still not convinced, the other wizard added, "So what do you suppose we do about these four?"
He seemed prepared for this question, "We-Well, Eugene Rehynols was planning on hosting a company p-p-party to celebrate the new minister, I believe, and I-I just thought that w-we could dispose of them there.
The three stood there silent for a moment before the raspy voiced wizard said, "Yes, Yes. That'll work. Well, done Jason. If this works then you will be heavily rewarded, but if you're lying, the Dark Lord will know and he does not give second chances."
Jason began to shake slightly and headed out the door, brushing right past Harry. Harry didn't seem to notice; he was too deep in thought. If what they said was true, then Kingsley and the other aurors were in grave danger.