An: Went back and edited the previous chps to smooth out plot inconsistencies, they weren't big but they were there. Fixed the last conversation between Hermione and Percy so that he actually names the Lane. Happy reading!

AN2: Last time...


"Look," He hurried on, "I know this isn't the best time but could we talk… I mean…"

He glanced up and around as if worried that someone might be watching or listening.

"It's important." He sounded so serious and Hermione wondered for a moment had something else happened, or did he know something about what happened to Harry, about the Potion. He worked as the Minister's Aide, maybe he'd overheard something. He nodded, as if reading her mind.

"There's a lovely little café off Diagon Alley, in Conduit Lane. It's a nice place to sit for a while...
... Now maybe she would learn something. Anything. She watched as Percy took his leave of Dumbledore ...

Hermione watched the lift slowly head upwards...

Sweet Merlin, please let him have some answers, she prayed.

---

The lift stopped a number of times on the journey to the top floor and reception area of the Ministry of Magic. Hermione held her breath each time, but nobody questioned her as to why she was on her own.

At the top floor she moved rapidly through the crowd to the wand collection point. She then waited impatiently for the slow moving guard to find her wand, make sure she was who she said she was before allowing her to sign out.

She ducked and weaved through the crowd, unsure as to why there were so many people at the Ministry offices today, but she kept moving until she was near enough to see the floos when she suddenly bumped into someone. She muttered a quick apology and was about to leave when the tall figure turned around.

Hermione hesitated. He turned to leave again but she held him back.

"Neville!" He didn't look at her. "Neville, talk to me."

He went slowly red and Hermione could see the tears filling his eyes.

"Oh, Neville!" Hermione put her arms around him, Neville stiffened. "Don't listen to them. Don't listen to any of them. You didn't do it. We both know who did it, they're just too scared to even think it."

She drew back to look him in the eye.

"You hear me?"

"They said-" He attempted.

"No." She glared at him. He looked everywhere but at her.

"He was my friend." Neville whispered. Hermione nodded, blinking furiously. She hugged him again and this time he hugged her back.

"I have to do something about this Neville. I cannot let this miscarriage of justice remain unchallenged." She whispered to him. He tightened his grip on her. "I'll clear you name and we'll identify the real culprit. I promise you that." She felt him nod faintly. Then he let her go.

Hermione could see Neville's grandmother heading towards them, looking thunderous. She gave Neville a quick peck on the cheek, smiled at him, then left before she was confronted with his colossuses of a Gran in a temper.

--

Hermione hurried down the almost deserted street that was Diagon Alley. Glancing about nervously she couldn't help noticing the number of shops that had closed even since she'd been there last. The few people that did walk the street walked quickly, avoided the gaze of their fellows on the street, but at the same time, their eyes darted around constantly searching out any dangers the place could hold.

She almost walked past the lane Percy had mentioned it was so small. It was dark with only a rectangular echo of light on one of the walls, coming from the café she assumed. She nearly ran down the little road darting in the door of the café to get out of the shadowed lane.

It took her a moment to catch her breath once inside, lack of exercise, she told herself, ignoring the stab of fear that dissolved in the warmth of the café.

She looked around. It was much smaller than The Leaky Cauldron but better lit. Most of the warmth came from a large fire in the centre of the opposite wall, but a candle sat on each table and in brackets along the wall. The walls themselves were painted a deep red with veins of a darker colour running through them. There was a counter to her right and a small brown door to her left with the letters WC painted tastefully on it.

The tables were closely packed together in the small space. Hermione counted, there were only eight of them, but they looked cosy, and for the first time in a long time Hermione felt some of the cold surrounding her heart dissolve. If Percy was one to frequent a place like this, there was hope for all of them.

He wasn't here yet but she took a table near the fire, fronting the open door, and ordered a cup of tea and a scone from the waiter when he arrived. Hermione silently thanked him for his silence. She didn't feel like making small talk about why she wasn't at school, the crest on her outdoor cloak proclaiming her a student for all and sundry to see.

She had eaten the scone and was on her second cup of tea by the time he arrived, looking very harassed as he took the seat opposite, his back to the door, thought Hermione disapprovingly. He nodded in greeting to her, then ordered a coffee and waited for the waiter to retreat before saying anything to her.

"You must be wondering about why I asked you to meet me here." He said, glancing over his shoulder as if checking they wouldn't be over heard, the place was empty but he didn't seem to relax.

"It is a little odd." She agreed.

"Isn't it even more odd that the Ministry would close Harry's case so easily, so quickly, without even knowing what killed him?" He leaned forward, his voice no more than a whisper. Hermione was shocked.

"But they said-"

"I know what they said, I drafted the press release." He glanced over his shoulder again. "But what they didn't say, not outright, is the ingredient that killed Harry."

"They don't know?" She asked horrified, if the Ministry didn't know, they couldn't possibly be able to confirm whether it was an accident or…

"They don't know why it is. How it reacted like that. They don't even know how the ingredient got there in the first place. And it's altogether possible it was simply switched with one of his actual ingredients. You said yourself that Harry was a good student. But would he have recognised if one of his potion ingredients was switched while he wasn't looking."

He shook his head.

"They don't know." He said.

Hermione just sat there stunned. Harry had been deliberately murdered and nobody was doing anything about it. Instead they found an easy scapegoat and ruined somebody else's life.

"We can't just let them get away with that!" She said aghast. "We have to… Percy we have to do something!"

"Do what?" He looked miserable. "They're covering it up. Everybody who knows even the littlest bit about the case has to report to the Department of Mysteries this evening for Oblivation!" Hermione gasped. "There's nothing I can do." Now his eyes bored into her.

She slumped. She knew what Percy was asking of her. But could she?

Go behind the Ministries back and try to investigate this when everybody who knew about it today would know nothing tomorrow. Where could she even begin?

He glanced over his shoulder again before delving into his robes and pulling out…

Hermione's eyes went round as saucers. He handed her the vial and she quickly hid it again in her own robes.

"Don't show that to anybody, not even my brother." He stood up. "I've got to go. I can't help you any more. The next time we meet I won't even remember this conversation." He left some money on the table. He nodded at her again, and walked out, leaving Hermione in a whirlwind of confusion.