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Chapter Eleven: Endeavours

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had to be one of the most unkempt places Hermione had ever entered in her life. Cleverly concealed by a Fidelius Charm, it was unplottable, unseen to Muggles, concealed between numbers eleven and thirteen. As they had appeared in a small Muggle neighbourhood of London, they had been greeted by a dog of the name Sirius Black, a wrongfully convicted criminal in hiding. The large wolfish dog had stared up at them and Hermione remembered thoughtfully the first time they had met properly two years previous as Sirius had dragged Ron from them and under the Whomping Willow, a great deciduous plant, its limbs function as arms that would defend it against anything within its vicinity, and down a secret passage towards the distant Shrieking Shack. She had feared for her Master's life that night, screaming his name and bravely running forwards, dragging Harry behind her, barely missing being knocked for six by its great whipping arms. They had entered the top room of the old derelict building, finding Ron sprawled in the corner of the room, leg twisted and broken in several places, groaning in agonising pain. Yet with him was not a dog, but a tall, withdrawn and sunken looking man, with dark straggly hair and piercing eyes staring back at them wildly. Hermione had later discovered them one and the same, an Animagus, and in fact, as Harry's godfather, Sirius had been completely innocent, led by the deception of one Peter Pettigrew who had spent years hiding as her Masters pet rat, Scabbers. She remembered after the attack of werewolf Professor Lupin, the ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, both she and Harry had sat at her Masters bedside, having already witnessed the execution of a Hippogriff named Buckbeak, and awaiting the news of Sirius having received the Dementors Kiss and having his soul drained from his body, destined to be left as an empty shell in a constant vegetative state. The Headmaster had entered, looking in particular at her as he spoke, a slight twinkle in his eyes, "More than one innocent life could be spared on this night," She had studied him slightly, and her eyes widened, suddenly becoming one with his way of thinking, knowing that only she could really carry out this task fully, not risking Harry's place at Hogwarts. She had heard of ways to rewind time, used secretly by selected Slytherin Students to do their Masters constant bidding, their only way of ever having any time to get any rest. She had stood from her Master, fingers slipping from his, letting his hand fall from hers softly, and moved towards the elderly yet powerful man, who had peered at her over his half moon spectacles, eyes flickering slightly as he held out a hand and allowed a small object and chain to fall into her flat open palm. She studied the little object, a small hour glass surrounded by various rings and attached to a long thin chain, glistening up at her, one of the few truly magical objects that she had ever held, feeling the power exuberating from within it. "Three turns should do it," And then he had left, leaving Hermione to draw a deep breath and then to turn to Harry, pulling him in close to her despite his protests. Ron's eyes flickered open, staring over towards them, a saddened look in his eyes as he watched her throw the chain around both of their necks and looked deep into a now silent Harry's eyes, their faces so close. She had given Ron one last fleeting glance as she turned them back, seeing him not staring confused at them together,

"Ron!" She breathed, disappearing from view and returning far enough into their past, enough to save everyone. Now here they were again, Sirius panting up at them, tamer this time, turning and leading them down a small winding road and towards a large row of houses, towards the ancestral home of the Black family. Ron suddenly pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to the two slaves, giving the name of the house in vaguely familiar narrowly slanted handwriting before it burst into flames before them, disintegrating into nothing. A sudden rumbling back apparent to both of them, a house suddenly squeezing itself out from in between number eleven and number thirteen, the bricks shifting to make way for the forthcoming house, gradually appearing and making itself known to them.

"What the hell is this place?" Carla asked hesitantly, turning to Hermione for answers automatically, not thinking for once that she could possibly be just as unaware of the situation as she stared back blankly, unable to give any kind of answer.

"The headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledore's Secret Keeper here. Only he can let people inside." Harry said carefully, giving Carla a small push forwards in the direction of the door, seeing how reluctant she appeared to even move. Taking the initiative, Hermione took her hand and lead her to the front door, the large wood looming over them as she gave a large push, it creaking as it swung forwards. Sirius darted in before her, followed by the rest of the group who did not turn back to look at, only Ron throwing behind him,

"Shut it quickly Granger! Arse inside! And for Merlin's sake be quiet!" She scowled at his retreating back as he disappeared through a narrow downwards staircase at the end of the hallway which itself was long and slight lit by a large chandelier hanging in the centre and gas lamps dotted about the peeling papered walls, illuminating a seemingly large portrait that had had curtained drawn across it. The carpet beneath then had worn thin, the only piece of furniture present being a troll leg umbrella stand, an ugly, hulking ornament that the two of them only just managed to avoid running into. An open door to their left revealed a dilapidated dining room which contained the usual furniture along with a large dresser which showed various pieces of engraved china and tarnished silver, old rusty daggers and a few scattered silver framed family photos through its murky glass windows, apparent spiders scuttling all over its surface. At the end of the hallway they came to two sets of stairs, one leading up accompanied by a row of shrunken House Elf heads which were mounted upon the wall on plaques, the other, where her Master had descended, and which she followed, leading out into a cavernous room which was presumably the kitchen. A large wooden table greeted them as they stepped into the surprisingly warm and well lit room where the others were currently gathered along with various other people whom Hermione had little or no knowledge of. Carla shivered next to her involuntarily and she took her by the arm to the other end of the room, conscious that all eyes were upon them and over towards a large fireplace at the other end and placed her friend by it, giving Carla her coat too, in an attempt to keep her warm. Behind her lay two small doors, one of which was closed, but emitting strange noises which unnerved Hermione slightly, but she chose to try to ignore this, instead taking a small sneaky peek into the other which turned out to be a pantry, before whipping her head back around to face them as a small cough interrupted her.

"It would do you best to stay away from that room Miss Granger." She turned around to find Sirius staring at her a little disgustedly, and she knew not if it was her own presence, or because of what was kept behind the door, "That's Kreacher's...bedroom...I wouldn't..." He snorted loudly and turned from her bending to whisper into the ear of her Master.

'Kreacher? What's...Kreacher?' Hermione wondered thoughtfully, thinking how a creature in itself could be regarded with such taste by its fellow household inhabitant, philosophising how Sirius could take such a negative view of anyone. There came a loud snap from the room behind and it suddenly dawned upon her, 'A House Elf...' Her face lit up slightly, and she knelt down towards a still shivering Carla and put her arms around her tightly, "Carla..." She whispered low into her ear, "A House Elf! We're not on our own; we have someone here for us!" Seeing her friends shoulders lift a little at this made her feel better about their situation, knowing that someone else would be here for them, to aid their issues and help them to cope with being thrown into a whirlwind of a situation. As sudden shout from behind them drew her attention,

"Granger! Upstairs, now!" Her Masters booming voice resonated over her, echoing throughout the room, "This is not for you!"

"Or you!" Interjected Molly, throwing him a stern and disapprovingly threatening look, "Take the girls upstairs Ronald, I'll bring up some dinner later."Her Master gave his mother a rather begrudging and reluctant stare, before peeling himself away from Harry and walking towards the far door, only stopping to whisper to his sister and then look at them both expectantly.

"Granger!" She gave a sudden shake and stood to attention, busily dragging Carla up with her, who stumbled slightly, almost completely unaware or who was with her, or what was happening to her,

"Carla? Carla! Come on." Her friend gave a small, sad, unknowing nod, dragging her feet a little as she tried to make her way over towards Ron, appearing ghostly and absent, "Carla?" Hermione asked cautiously, taking the crook of her elbow and pulling her a little quicker towards the door, "Come on. Please." Ron turned his back on them and walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, on his way up to the first floor. Hermione felt physically sick following him past the heads of the deceased adorning the wall, noting their saddened and worn looks, their glassy eyes old and staring, unnerving her. She felt Carla shudder beside her, trying to pull away and almost tripping over the old worn wooden floorboard as she hurried up to the landing. Hermione's blood boiled in disgust, unable to comprehend how such a terrible thing could be done to a fellow 'slave', those of lower worth, the very souls that only ever sought to provide comfort for their wizarding Masters, to please and to pleasure, to serve. "It's barbaric..." She breathed, barely audible to any but herself, or perhaps simply ignored out of unawareness or even shame. "It shouldn't be allowed!" Her own Masters head whipped around, scowling back at her, making her suddenly aware of how loudly she had spoken, wishing that she could retract the echoing of her words as they filtered through the air. He took a step towards her, taking her firmly by the wrist and plucking Carla from her.

"You. Upstairs. Wait on the first floor landing." Carla gave a long, slow nod at his deep growl, barely registering what was happening around her, before walking past a little further up the stairs before continuing up the case as it doubled back upon itself, winding her way out of sight. He waiting until she disappeared, drawing in a large, deep breath, struggling for words, "Don't you get it Granger? My Dad! Harry! Everyone! It's dangerous! People like you aren't even meant to be here!" She gave a strangled gasp, staring up at him, almost watery eyed, hardly daring to even speak back to him,

"People like me? People like me! How dare you Weasley! What make you think you can talk to me in that way?" His eyes sprang open at her outburst, clearly not expecting it, a less than thrilling sense of déjà vu washing over him, "How can you be so prejudice at times like this?" She raised her hand at him, as if to strike him about his face, but instead balled her fist tightly, exhaling rapidly and vociferously before dropping to her knees in front of him and bowing her head low in defeat, finding the energy and will to fight back drained from her body. There fell a silence between them, neither really knowing what their next move should be. Hermione could barely hold her anger towards him, wanting to lash out and pay him back for all the cruelty any had suffered at the hands of a Pureblood. Yet, at the same time, all she wanted to do was to wrap him up in her arms and tell him not to worry for his father, that he would pull through and that the future could only get better for them. She shook herself little, trying to remove any kinds of sympathetic feelings for him from within her empathetic being.

"Hermione." He broke through, "This isn't the time. You know who you are and so do I. Do NOT anger me. I'll deal with you when we get back to Hogwarts. Now get up." He gave a short sharp kick to the knee and she felt him turn from her, walking in the direction that Carla had, clearly expecting her to follow him unquestioningly. She scurried up hurriedly after her Master, reaching the first floor readily, finding Carla crouched low upon the floor by an open door. "Bathroom," Ron pointed to the door, and then to another opposite it, "Drawing room, your bedrooms through it. Granger. You should be grateful I don't curse you."He didn't bother, or perhaps couldn't, to look at either of them, instead, suddenly retreated back down the staircase, not once giving them another glance. Hermione felt extremely uncomfortable, seriously beginning to worry about her friend's state of mind, not sure as to whether really take her with her or run, seek some kind of external help, find salvation for the both of them. Something stopped her though, something keeping her back, keeping her by her Masters side, not wanting to leave him. So instead, she went to Carla and took her by the waist and hauled her to her feet, leading her silently towards the drawing room, pushing the door open awkwardly. Inside there was very little furniture, save for a large fireplace that seemed not to have been lit in many a year and had gathered as much dust as the wooden floor, which had but a set of small footprints running through it and towards a door at the opposite end of the room. There was also a long large window facing the street, out towards the front of the house, running opposite to a tapestry that hung upon the opposite wall, depicting the family tree of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, a large crest in the centre depicting their motto of Toujours Pur, chilling Hermione slightly,

"Always Pure...It's disgusting..." She left Carla to herself in the middle of the room, moving towards the intricately designed drapery, noting how several names and faces appeared to have been magically removed, blasted, seemingly hastily and without regret, from the material itself, leaving large black gaping holes in its wake. "Bloodtraitors...At least there are still people out there who won't disband us." She turned back to face Carla, who seemed to be coming slowly back into herself, staring up towards the various missing pieces of material. She shuffled over, raising a hand and tracing it over the long singed fragments.

"I don't understand. I thought the Purebloods were all together against us, why would they abandon their own?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione looked at her confused face, saddened by her naivety, "It's always something to do with us, being kind to us, marrying out of the blood. We ruin people's lives, even if it is for the better." A sudden bang from behind them revealed the youngest Weasley child bearing down upon them, her hair franticly buzzing about her head, her eyes slightly watery, and cheeks aflame.

"You...people like you ruin everything. Especially you Granger, you've ruined my brother's life, and I won't let you carry on. You get into that room and sit down and shut up. I don't want to hear anything from either of you! Especially for Harry and Ron. They have got their O. soon you know! You being here just doesn't help!"

~x~x~x~

Barely any time had been spent at number twelve before its residents were due to depart, headed back to Hogwarts to begin their studies and duties once more after their Christmas break. Despite their days being filled with the arduous cleaning of various parts of the house in an attempt to make it more habitable, the girls had enjoyed their freedom away from their repetitive duties at Hogwarts, once they had settled into their current predicament. They had also been witness to several objects of extreme interest, whilst cautiously trying to avoid biting fairy-like creatures named Doxies which randomly attacked them in their swarms, causing Carla to shriek loudly and spring from the room at random intervals, abandoning Hermione to deal with the problem accompanied by a large amount of Doxycide, which would leave her covered in the foul smelling black solution for hours at a time. Yet there were many features of the house that she would not miss, namely the Portrait of Walburga Black, Master Sirius's mother, which was situated in the hall and had an unpleasant habit of shrieking loudly at any disturbances which would fling back her curtains and allow her to hurl abuse of "Mudbloods" and "Bloodtraitors", due to the woman's previous prejudices against people such as the two girls before her death. The meeting of the aged House Elf, Kreacher, had not lightened their mood either as he clearly shared his former Mistresses views and despised Sirius for even allowing the girls in the house. His deep bullfrog voice could often be heard insulting the two of them as they cleaned, doing his supposed job for him whilst he glared through his many folds of skin and seemed to enjoy purposely destroying their handiwork within the house. However, Hermione could not falter him, blaming his discourteous manner upon those he had previously served, poisoning his mind against Muggleborns. Since arriving, the two girls had seen much mistreatment of him from Masters Sirius, Harry and Ron and it had only furthered their hatred of the exploitation of 'slaves', spurring them into the creation of a society that they would share amongst their fellow servants, originally named 'Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status', but upon finding that this could not be fitted upon a single badge, retained the name Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare instead, creating the acronym S.P.E.W which could easily be hidden from the praying eyes of the Pure and Halfbloods as they did their duties.

Only the day before had the two girls been busily reshuffling the wardrobes and cupboards of a large living room, possibly converted from an old master bedroom due to its spaciousness when they had encountered several objects of interest. Whilst withdrawing various items such as old dusty boxes containing several ancient seals, a suspicious looking snuffbox and an unopenable golden locket that held a large 'S' at its centre, Hermione had suddenly found herself slumped against the wall being violently shaken by her Master in an attempt to rouse her, remembering only a small music box and its faintly sinister, tinkling tune, that had apparently caused them both to lose consciousness. Seeing the look of relief upon his face as she hazily opened her eyes she blushed a little, but soon realised he was scowling at her, having possibly misunderstood his previous expression.

"Under the couch. Dead nest of Puffskein. Large snakeskin. Sort it!" She had nodded lazily at him and then dragged herself over to where he had indicated, trying desperately to readjust her vision and bring everything back into focus. Reaching under the sofa, rather unwillingly, she stopped suddenly as Carla opened a wardrobe and withdrew in disgust, holding up an ornate crystal bottle that had a large opal set into its stopper.

"Hermione?" She held it as far from her as she could, looking at it suspiciously, not wanting to be near the object, "Is this blood?" Hermione chose to draw herself away from it, rather intent now upon retrieving the dead creatures than looking at it.

"I'd just put it down if I were you. Best not to ask." She replied, soft squidgy fur under her fingertips, causing her to gip noisily as she fought the urge to relieve her stomach upon the newly scrubbed floors. Hermione heard Master Harry enter, intent on finding Carla, no doubt for another task he had found for her, but a sudden shriek from the two boys made her spin and turn to face them. Carla had reopened the wardrobe, allowing a small spidery instrument to fly out and scurry away like a many-legged pair of tweezers, running forwards them and trying to puncture Harry's skin, who readily crushed it with a chair, beating it back towards the wardrobe, intent upon now helping Ron who was suddenly being strangled by an ancient set of purple robes that had followed the device. Hermione gasped loudly and ran to him readily, "Ron!" She began manically tugging at the material as his face had turned slowly purple. Only with Harry's assistance did they manage to relieve him and close the wardrobe pertaining the objects,

"Do NOT...go in there again." Harry had warned a stiff Carla who still had a hand upon the doorknob and began shaking her head hurriedly, glad in herself that they would be leaving the decrepit home soon and would no longer be subject to sleeping with the young Mistress Weasley or be attacked by unknown creatures residing in hidden places within the many crevices of the old place.

~x~x~x~

It was very quiet as the two girls sat side by side next to the heater in the centre of the boy's dormitory, listening to their Masters sleep, waiting for the time to come at which they could depart. "I'm feeling good about this one," Carla whispered to Hermione, who turned and gave her a large smile, excitement slowly building within her like it did only once a year when their event would be held. Muggle Mayhem had always been kept secret, kept hidden from the Masters and Mistresses of the castle, hidden away in a secret room that had been discovered by a servant long ago, and had since used it to host an entertaining social gathering once a year from then on, mainly in the few following weeks after Christmas. Now, here the two girls sat, awaiting the turn of the clock, ready to take their gowns to change and then attend with Justin and Kevin, who had also permitted Viktor to accompany them, providing he kept their secret hidden and wouldn't tell another soul. "You ready?" Hermione nodded and then threw a large black coat over herself, drawing the hood to hide her features and taking a small parcel in her arms before making for the door, closely followed by an excitedly wired Carla. As they made their way out of Gryffindor Tower, the two headed for a bathroom on the sixth floor, readily intent upon changing, spotting the three boys waiting for them there, each in jeans and a shirt, obviously expecting them to already be inside and changed.

"Viktor." Hermione breathed, rushing to him and throwing her arms around him, which he accepted gratefully, lifting her a few inches from the floor and holding her tightly.

"Hermy-own-ninny." He held her back and smiled a little at her, "It iz good to see you." Neither of them noticed the twist that appeared in Kevin's face as he watched them, obviously biting his tongue and holding himself back. Carla, sensing the obvious awkwardness that had washed over them placed a hand upon Hermione's shoulder and sheepishly suggested that they get ready before they were late.

~x~x~x~

Ron sat bolt upright, throwing his shoe hastily in Harry's direction, which was received with a loud groan and a hasty reshuffling of covers as his head popped out from underneath the hangings of his bed. "They're gone. We gonna follow?"

"Oh shit, really? Already?" Harry rubbed his eyes and plonked his glasses, rather haphazardly, upon his face before dragging himself out of his bed, pulling on a jumper hastily and opening the trunk at the foot of his bed, pulling out his invisibility cloak. As he and Ron gathered beneath it, both had to stoop, particularly Ron, who had grown much since their first year and could no longer be covered solely by the material without adjusting himself. As they hurried after the two girls, they had already lost sight of them until they appeared at the Grand Staircase, spotting the three boys waiting patiently by a corridor on the sixth floor. They slowly crept down the staircase, becoming increasingly annoyed as Ron misplaced himself, forgetting to jump the particular step in front of them as his foot sunk right through a step halfway up the staircase. There were many of these trick stairs at Hogwarts; it was second nature to most of the older students to jump this particular step, and Ron was only saved as Harry seized him under the armpits to pull him back out. "Careful idiot!" He hissed, and then pointed down towards the group, as the two girls emerged from the corridor, Harry trying desperately to stifle his giggles as Carla spun around in a large puffy white dress that was over decorated with large roses with matching shoes and gloves, another rose, possibly larger than her own face, stuck high upon her head, glasses now removed. Ron however was watching a stunned Hermione's expression, deducing that this was indeed her first time seeing the dress her friend now wore.

"Carla?" They heard her say in surprise, to which a reply came,

"Yes? Don't you just love it?" She span around once more, flouncing her arms about rapidly, noticeably in awe of herself.

"You look like a cake." She stiffened at this and huffed at Hermione, suddenly rounding on her,

"At least I made an effort!" Carla said sourly, gesturing to Hermione's plain white, knee length dress, held only by a black belt at her waist,

"Oh shut up Carla, this is the only night a have away from that arse upstairs and I won't have you making it a bed evening!" Harry felt Ron spasm next to him, evidently restraining himself from throwing something at his servant,

"Ungrateful bitch..." He whispered, "Remind me to kill her later wont you?" Harry shook his head and gave Ron a rather disapproving look, "What? Yours needs some fashion advice too if you ask me, must be spending too much time with Luna." Ron reasoned, to which Harry had to nod in concurrence, noting that he had indeed seen one of the boys with Luna often and had assumed him her servant.

"Come on...they're moving...back up here! Move it!" Harry began to drag his friend backwards, careful to pull him over the step he had previously stepped straight through, shuffling hastily up towards the landing where they waiting for the small group to pass them and head down an adjourning corridor. The pair followed until they were halted abruptly across from a tapestry depicting the attempt of Barnabas the Barmy to teach trolls ballet, seeing the group wander past this spot three times, apparently thinking very hard, and not seeming surprised at all as a large wooden, intricately carved door suddenly appeared before them. As the five of them were about to enter, Viktor cleared his voice suddenly, subtly addressing their remaining companions,

"Ahem. Hermy-own-ninny, may I haff a vord? In private?" She looked to the others but gave a small nod regardless, watching her friends disappear into the room, Muggle music blaring out as the door swung open, but leaving them in silence as it shut once more. Both Harry and Ron crept a little closer, intent on at least gaining a peek into the room as it was opened once more, if not, gaining entrance.

"It's known as the Come and Go Room or The Room of Requirement. It only appears when a person has need of it and is always equipped for the seekers needs." Hermione broke through awkwardly; fully aware that this was the first time the two of them had been together since the ball. Stood beside Hermione, from beneath the cloak Harry and Ron saw Viktor pause for thought, clearly unsure as to whether as his question,

"So zay you really needed ze toilet..." Hermione chuckled at him, suddenly seeming more at ease,

"Charming Viktor. But yes, that is the general idea of it. Dobby showed it to me in my second year when I first came to one of the parties." Hermione had a thoughtful and fond look upon her face as she smiled at the memory, making Ron feel extremely uncomfortable, so unused to such an expression being present upon her face. She looked back up to Viktor who had taken a step closer to her, blushing brilliantly, a nervous grin plastered over her small lips. Harry felt Ron suddenly stiffen bolt upright next to him, threatening to expose them and panicked immediately, hurriedly trying to make sure that their feet were still covered as he began violently shaking,

"Ron you idiot! Get down! What's wrong with you man?" Harry whispered hurriedly, looking up at his paled face, and then following his wide eyed gaze, allowing his own jaw to drop at the sight that greeted him. Viktor had hurriedly pushed Hermione up against the wall behind her and captured her lips in one loving sweeping motion, one hand in her hair and the other at her waist. As he pulled away from her, their foreheads touched, and he bent low, whispering something into her ear that was inaudible to the two of them and then left her, walking into the Room of Requirement alone. They watched her dazed form rest against the wall for a few seconds longer before she pushed herself off of it, a confused look upon her face as she placed her hands on her temples as she span around a little, a sudden smile flashing over her face. Hermione exhaled deeply, almost groaning at what had just passed between herself and Viktor, before dashing over to the door and wrenching it open, leaving Harry and Ron alone, stunned in the empty corridor.


Japan's Arc Angel x