Chapter 5 – Getting down to work
"Our little Hermione's turn now."
"Can't wait. Oh, Won-Won, you're so good at this. I really need to ask where you studied how to talk to adults like they're 5-year-olds?"
"Let me feign temporarily deafness and go on. Harry here thinks there might be a search spell that can be customised to look for RAB initials in any text. Do you think you can work on that?"
"Even if I come up with such a spell, where do we go try it? He or she might be a common wizard, never mentioned in a history book."
"We thought of looking into Prophet's obituaries, Hogwarts' register or any vestry-book MoM might be keeping."
"You suggest that we sneak into the Ministry and go through their innumerable files under what pretence exactly?"
"Looking for my dad?"
"'Cause we all resemble sweet little toddlers that can easily get lost inside a filing cabinet?"
"'Mione, we'll get the way. Can you ple-a-se provide the means?"
"Ron, even if I could cook something up, it would be too draining for a single person. Such spells require at least too fully-fledged wizards to sustain the…"
"So what? Are you afraid we'll chicken out and leave you cast the spell all by yourself?"
"I knew a brainwave of yours would hit me right in the forehead any minute now, Harry. You've been quiet for so long, that you must have been thinking something as brilliant as the line you just delivered."
"Stop bickering! Hermione, all Harry means is that we could all cast it together."
"Of course! 'Cause you both managed nonverbal spells so quickly that joint casting is totally beneath you."
"Fred and George do it all the time. How hard can it be?"
"Ron, your cheeks still get the colour of a monkey's ass every time you try to cast a nonverbal leviosa. Nonverbals are a prerequisite for joint casting. It's 7th-grade's agenda."
"You can't blame me for not knowing it then, can you?"
"Can't congratulate you either!"
"So be it. We'll ask Fred and George do it."
"Being blood related to Ron doesn't mean you can boss them around as well Harry."
"He doesn't boss me around! But you're right, twins won't be easily swayed."
"They'll do it. They owe me one. All you have to do is find the spell."
And so it went. A whole Flourish and Blotts' section was relocated into Hermione's chambers (under Harry's generous sponsorship) and it was a matter of hours before both young wizards found themselves unceremoniously thrown out by a particularly irate witch that showed no appreciation to the fine art of making kites out of blank parchments. While they were denied access until further notice into Hermione's sanctuary, Ron found a way to mellow Harry down. He was still far from dealing with any Snape related theories, but at least he didn't want to throttle Hermione any more. Maybe the lack of any actual contact between the two alleviated things a bit. Hours turned into days, days into a week and that dutifully into a fortnight before Hermione resurfaced.
Spending 15 days buried under heavy tomes did nothing to improve her demeanour, but fortunately Harry was too happy to notice. The spell was ready for the twins who graciously volunteered to exchange Hermione's notes with a chance to test some of their most recent inventions trespassing the Ministry. A mere six hours later they returned trudging along enough reading material to last the trio-magic a month, divulging no more details of their success than the sole fact that they had to use all three boxes of self-inking quills that Hermione had charmed to record the results of her innovative spell.
"O.K. I might have a possible candidate here. Listen up: Ramon Amadeus Bronx born 1932 in Minsk, ex-Durmstrang Professor called by the Ministry to train Aurors on blood wards breaking. Worked here from 1965 till 1969. Father of three. Died 1979 in a Death Eaters' attack that wiped off his whole family."
"Valid. Add him on the list."
"Oh, come on Harry. How comes and Hermione gets Bronx? At least grant me Ramada Angelica Bright, Ministry's Beauty Contest Winner for 3 successive years, 1973 to 1975…"
"Ron, for the umpteenth time we're looking for someone who can be even remotely related to Voldemort. What he and that Ramilda of yours might have in common?"
"Well, for starters it's Ramada. And she had to be an absolute hottie to win three times in a row. She might have caught you-know-who's eye at some point."
"That's even weaker than Rialto Alexander Breathings having accidentally shot a bludger on…."
"Guys?"
"Well your Raymond Arsenius Botherin who was 179 years old the day Voldemort was born wasn't any better, was he?"
"GUYS?"
"Yeah, yeah, we know our way out…"
"Regulus Amicus Black!"
"What's up with Sirius' bro?"
"Born 1961. Died 1980. Known Death Eater activity. Didn't survive long enough to stand trial. Death cause: Avada Kedavra. Death details: undisclosed. For further info authorisation needed by the Department of the Unspeakables."
"Please be kidding. You don't suggest he's our RAB?"
"We know for sure he was a Death Eater. We know Voldemort killed him. Only think missing is why."
"She has a point, Harry. If the Unspeakables were in the middle of this, then there's definitely something fishy."
"Oh, come on you guys. Just because you recognised a name, doesn't mean we have our suspect. We're not even halfway through the records, not to mention we still have Hogwarts and Prophet to..."
"Will you ever stop being so negative? Just because you didn't think about it, doesn't mean…"
"Is that Sirius mum wrecking havoc again?"
"I'd say it's yours calling us for dinner."
"I'm hungry enough to eat the giant squid raw and wreathing right now and I bet that smell is…"
"A reason to get moving, cause your mum is bound to resurrect the real Mrs. Black from the dead if we don't."
Sorry for the delay in updating. Too busy whoopee-ing for I have reviews! ears still buzzing from setting off tons of fireworks Slaughter me or love me, I don't care as long as I have them coming. I love you people. You make my day.