Chapter 3: Everything Goes Boom
It was on days like today that Harry Potter's Slytherin side suggested it was time to kidnap a wizard.
Harry had five books on his desk, all open to different pages. In front of him was his notebook, bursting with equations and notes from various experiments. Harry tapped his quill pen on his notebook, glaring menacingly at the sheer uselessness of it all.
It's not that bad, said Harry's Hufflepuff side. We just need to look at things from another perspective.
Tried that already, said Ravenclaw. Which other side do you want to look at? The one where we're ignorant wizards or the one where we're incompetent scientists?
This is all your fault, said Slytherin. You're the one who chose an impossible problem. I'm only giving you a way out that will preserve our sanity.
Harry turned to the first page of his notebook. He'd known there would be days like this, and so on the very first page he'd written: "Reasons you're not going to turn to the dark side."
It was a comprehensive list, but Harry found the first two particularly convincing. The first was "Hermione Granger will be mad" and the second was "You'll have proved the Sorting Hat right."
And yet, while reading that helped him calm down a bit, it didn't make his problem any less irritating.
When Harry had received his mission from (probably) himself, he'd known right away what he was supposed to do. Harry had always planned to go to space. It had been an inevitability since he was 5 years old, when he'd announced to his dad that he would either be an astronaut or scientist. His father had then informed him that all astronauts were scientists, and it would help him most to study his science and his mathematics.
Harry had considered other possible interpretations for his message, which was, admittedly, annoyingly vague. You must build a rocket ship and travel to this location on the Alpha Quadrant would have been much better. Still, it was the only interpretation he could think of that would solve the immortality problem. A non-aging population would need room to grow, and what better way than to send his new humanity to explore the stars?
The task Harry had given himself was to combine the powers of magic and science to find a viable method of interstellar space travel.
Even by Harry's standards, the problem was completely impossible.
The first thing Harry had done was consider his resources. Muggle science had made the most progress in solving the problem. They had invented rocket ships and rocket fuel, and they had theories about how to achieve interstellar space travel. However, even scientists were not optimistic about humanity's chances of achieving this within several centuries.
The problem was distance. The closest star system was several light years away. Even if humans mined all the plutonium on Earth and created a rocket ship that ran on cold fusion, there simply wouldn't be enough available energy to travel that far. It was also currently impossible to build a rocket that could navigate deep space, communicate with Earth, sustain life for long periods of time, and keep the astronauts from killing each other out of boredom.
Harry anticipated he could solve some of these problems using magic. Aguamanti would take care of the water problem, and the Patronus charm could be used to communicate with Earth. However, wizards had made no progress in space travel whatsoever, and it wasn't from lack of trying. In Harry's many trips to the history section of the library, he'd read all about the attempts of wizards to travel to the moon, and each story ended with something exploding and wizards shaking their fists at the sky.
All of Harry's experiments had also been spectacular failures. He had tried casting Protego on a broom and then piloting it into the stratosphere. When he had tried to go higher, his broom stopped working. Using Muggle technology and transfiguration, Harry created a remote control rocket and piloted it into the mesosphere, where it had de-transfigured and burst into flames.
The unsettling conclusion that Harry was starting to come up with was that magic and space didn't mix. Harry didn't know if this included both spells and charmed objects, but this would be impossible to test outside of a space station, or perhaps a perfect vacuum chamber. And that led to Harry's biggest problem: he couldn't test most of his theories. It required money and resources that he didn't have, or couldn't get access to even if they did exist. Muggle technology didn't work in Hogwarts, and the Interdict of Merlin prohibited the acquisition of a lot of wizarding artefacts related to research.
Harry did, however, have a sizable nest egg from his parents (he'd lost a good deal of it from misadventures in the stock market, but anyway he was past that now). A few years ago he had researched purchasing a rocket, but they were ridiculously expensive and well…restricted. He hadn't found a way to procure one that didn't make him seriously question his ethics.
Harry had considered other magical options besides rocket travel. Could a phoenix travel in space? Harry didn't know, since he didn't have one and never would, and Dumbledore's phoenix had long since disappeared. Harry had attempted to Apparate to the moon, and that hadn't worked either. It was an established rule of magic that wizards could only Apparate where they had gone before, and no amount of quantum physics rationalization had changed that in the several hours Harry had attempted the spell.
However, Harry had considered there might be a loophole to this dilemma. He'd known wizards to Apparate to places they had never visited personally, such as to a random building in Diagon Alley. Harry theorized that it might be possible to Apparate somewhere if any wizard had been there before.
And Harry's Slytherin side wondered what would happen if he kidnapped a wizard, put him in sleep stasis, and sent him off into space. Maybe he would kidnap several and send them to multiple points in the solar system. If Harry could keep track of them, he could Apparate in whenever the ship got to somewhere worth going.
You know, said Harry's Hufflepuff side. Your great-great-great grandchildren will be dust by the time that ship lands anywhere.
The stipulation was that we had to find a viable method of interstellar space travel to unlock the secret, said Slytherin. Not that the ship had to land. Of course, we'll be immortal by that point, if we aren't secretly immortal already.
But it's cruel, said Hufflepuff. Your legacy will be built on hurting someone else.
No, it's merciful, said Slytherin. We break a prisoner out of Azkaban and we send him to space in the Kryptonian way. There's no dementors to torment him there, and he'll sleep through most of it anyway.
Except didn't the message suggest that we needed to be the one to reach the stars? said Ravenclaw. I doubt it counts if we do it by proxy. Also, sleep stasis is a problem only slightly less challenging than space travel, and what you'll likely end up with is a floating wizard corpse-
How about, asserted Gryffindor, you stop arguing against something we're not going to do, and instead actually do something?
I'm with Gryffindor, said Hufflepuff.
Harry sighed and gave up. Very well, then. There were two prongs to his plan of attack anyway, and he might as well keep working on the other one. Learn to crawl before he ran.
Harry closed his notebook and gathered all his materials, locking them into a sealed drawer that he never bothered to open. It was a pretty cool trick that his last adventure had taught him. He searched his robes and the desk, but he couldn't find his wand.
Well. Now was a good a time as ever to check his invention.
He stuck his hand in his pocket and made the sign language for wand. He then said, "Wand. Spare wand. Thirteen inches with unicorn hair. Oh, come on!"
He sighed, got out his magical pouch of holding and said, "Wand." A moment later it was in his hand. Then, he cast the finding spell, and his real wand illuminated on a chair a few feet away. He'd probably left it there when he got up to look out the window.
After retrieving his wand and storing the spare, he decided that today a Gryffindor quest would be acceptable. He usually put them off, due to them being dangerous and crazy, but today he wouldn't mind setting fire to something.
Before heading out, Harry took a small dose of Felix Felicis. He normally wouldn't do that, but the quests had been difficult to find recently. Then he set out, taking whichever set of stairs was closest, and heading up. He held out his wand, training it to feel for any swells of magic within a hallway, or a door appearing where it shouldn't be. He searched for most of the afternoon, his search only pausing when the alarm he'd set on his watch beeped.
Harry stared at the watch for a minute, the realization slowly hitting him. Three hours was as long as the luck would hold out, and for the first time, nothing lucky had happened.
His first thought: Can Felix Felicis expire?
His second thought seemed more likely. Did someone steal my potion and replace it with a fake? Blaise, probably.
Third, an uncomfortable thought. Statistically speaking, the value of that dose of potion was probably greater than whatever I would have gotten for the quest. On some level, I already knew that. Which means the actual reason I took that potion must be because I wanted an excuse to set fire to something. Maybe the Felix Felicis is declining to help me, on account of I'm stupid.
As Harry was thinking, he walked back down the stairs, using his wand unconsciously to map his way back. He did have one incomplete quest he could do, but he was not in the mood for it, as he could never seem to figure out how to finish it. As he was passing a small alcove, he stopped. Something felt...different about the air here. Harry turned slowly, casting a few probing spells. A hand shot out of nowhere, grabbed him and drew him into the alcove.
Harry couldn't speak due to the hand over his mouth, but his eyes were wide and questioning as he stared at Hermione. After a few moments, she dropped her hand and they sat together in silence, Hermione's eyes staring out at the hallway through the transparent cloth of the invisibility cloak.
Harry followed her gaze, watching for whatever she was hiding from in the hallway. Her entire body was rigid and on high alert, as if hiding from danger.
What is it? Harry signed. Hermione just shook her head.
As the minutes ticked by, Harry began shifting uncomfortably, his legs squished knee to knee against hers. As of yet, there had been no sign of anything or anyone in the hallway, and Harry noticed a few confusing aspects of this situation. First, Hermione was fully capable of handling herself in a fight, so the likelihood of there being an enemy at Hogwarts that she had to hide from was minuscule. Even then, she would still be out there defending the school with the Aurors, because she was not a coward. Besides, if there was an attack on Hogwarts, Harry would have felt the alarms.
So, why the heck were they hiding here, exactly?
"Err…question," said Harry. "We haven't seen anyone for the last five minutes, and this space has limited leg room. Any reason why we haven't moved yet?"
"Because of all the things," said Hermione, raising her clenched fists. "Always so many things!"
"Oh," said Harry. His brain sputtered out several possible responses that some instinct warned would be the opposite of helping.
Hermione sighed, and leaned back. "Sorry. You can go if you want. Just…give me five more minutes."
That's when Harry realized that this was a Feelings issue, and there were only two effective ways to deal with those. He could say nothing, which was his default and much preferred response. Or…
"Do you…umm…want to talk?"
"Quietus," she said, with a wave of her wand, blanketing their alcove in silence. Hermione bit her lip, staring hard at the space where their legs touched. "Do you remember when we agreed that you wouldn't interfere with my life without asking first?"
"Yes," said Harry, frowning. "Why?"
"Just checking to make sure you remember."
She was silent for a few more seconds, and then she said, "I've made a few…mistakes. I dealt with them, then I decided to sit here, and now I can't seem to leave. It's physically impossible for my feet to touch the floor right now. As soon as I do, something I don't like is going to happen, and I'm going to be a coward and put that off for 5 minutes."
He filed away that "mistakes" clue for later. "What exactly do you think is going to happen?"
"Umm...I'll probably run into someone. And I'll have to talk to them." She made a face. "That sounds bad, doesn't it?"
"Ahh," said Harry, as the pieces came together. "Fame isn't agreeing with you, right? I know the feeling." He smiled. "You know, there are ways to deal with that besides hiding in alcoves. You could just be honest and tell everyone to leave you alone."
Hermione's forehead crinkled. "I'm not sure that would work."
"Oh, it's easy," said Harry, counting on his fingers. "Step 1: say something truthful that could be construed as offensive. For example, 'You're annoying, go away.' Step 2: annoying person goes away. Step 3: peace and quiet."
Hermione was smiling. "Some people would call that being a jerk."
"True." He shrugged, quirking a grin. "But that's their problem. You just enjoy the peace and quiet."
"Yeah," said Hermione, sighing, leaning back on the wall. "Not gonna lie, that sounds pretty nice. Maybe it wouldn't bother me so much if they admired me for who I was, rather than because I have superpowers that I supposedly used against You-Know-Who…not that I don't have some doubts about that story," she added quietly.
There was silence again for a few moments, and Harry wondered if this chance meeting really was the work of Felix Felicis. If that was true, it was sort of depressing to think it took magical intervention to see Hermione.
"So, besides these…fans, or whatever…are you doing okay?" asked Harry.
"Hmm," Hermione mused. "Well, I'm exhausted, on account of all the classes and homework and preparation for the tournament. But, on the plus side, I can't get sick. Also, Time-Turners are incredibly useful, especially when you need to hide in corners." She smiled, just a little. "How are you, Harry?"
He debated on how to answer that. "Just researching space and time, constructing plots to foil my enemies, same as usual."
"How Slytherin of you." She raised her eyebrows. "What kind of plots?"
"Secret ones, obviously."
"Aww, not even a hint? It would really brighten my day."
"Can't. They're just too dastardly for a pure, innocent unicorn like you."
She shoved him. "Not you too. You know, people are afraid to swear around me? They always apologize afterwards."
"No, that's because you're a goody two shoes. But if you like, I'll say a few swear words to even things out."
Her knees wriggled a little, a small smile on her lips. She somehow seemed content, even in the incredibly cramped space.
"So, I heard something from the Ravenclaw girls." Hermione studied her knees. "Something about you calling me beautiful and special?"
Harry grimaced. "I apologize. They were looking for an answer, and I tried to give them the truth. They seemed to have taken it the wrong way though, as usual."
"What did you tell them, exactly?"
Harry told Hermione his exact words, and Hermione sat in silence for a moment, an expression crossing her face that he couldn't read.
"Thank you for defending me," she said. "I thought their explanation sounded a little too...reduced."
"You're welcome, but I know you'd do the same for me." He stirred in his seat and winced. "Umm, do you mind if we move now? My leg is cramping."
They worked their way out of the alcove, and Harry propped himself up against the wall and rubbed his calf, grimacing. Hermione flicked her wand at his leg, spoke a charm, and the pain was gone.
"Nice," he said, stretching experimentally. "Teach me that one later?"
Hermione nodded, and he came to join her. She surveyed the hallway ahead of her with trepidation.
"It's dinnertime, isn't it?" she said.
Harry checked his watch. "In about 5 minutes." Harry watched Hermione pick nervously at a hangnail. "If you sit near me, I'll create a distraction to keep everyone's attention occupied, and then you can eat in peace. You don't even have to say anything rude."
Hermione's smile was bitter and sad. "You're sweet, Harry. But I have to eat with the Aurors. We have discussions over dinner."
"Ahh, I see." Harry rubbed his head. "Well, if you can get time away, we're having a meeting of the Bayesian Conspiracy tomorrow. I'd like you to come, and then you can see what I've really been up to."
"Well," Hermione looked thoughtful. "I suppose that would be an acceptable use of my time turner. I'll be there."
Once Hermione had gone, Harry passed through the hallway, his wand performing some tracing spells. He didn't think he'd notice anything, but he didn't think it hurt to be cautious. Hermione's mood seemed a bit too sour to be entirely due to obsessive fans.
Harry noticed a portrait of a Ravenclaw witch on the wall. He asked, "Who are the last five people you saw walking past here?"
The portrait replied, with an indignant snort, "Why should I tell you?"
A voice behind him said, "I know! It was you, Hermione Granger, a sexy woman, a baby and a dragon."
Harry turned to the portrait behind him, who was an older Slytherin man with huge goggles over his eyes.
"That...particular assortment of creatures seems a little improbable. Is this some kind of riddle?"
"A riddle? Heavens no! I saw what I saw. Why else do you think I put on my lipstick?"
So saying, the Slytherin burped pink, sparkling bubbles out of his mouth.
"Next time I ask you any questions," said Harry wearily. "Remind me that you're crazy and not to trust you."
The Slytherin portrait's grin would have made Salazar himself proud.
Friday, September 15th at 1:45 pm
"Listen, this is how it is," said Tonks, sitting on the professor's desk. "I'm not your defence professor. Your defence professor is holed up in her room, after accidentally hexing herself with perpetual hiccups. I am merely teaching your lessons, administering exams and grading your work. If you have any concerns, please discuss them with your actual professor. Now that that's clear, let's get started."
Three quarters of the auditorium full of students, from 5th years to 7th years, let out a collective sigh of relief. Several of them had known Tonks personally back at Hogwarts, and they'd spent the entire week stressing over what kind of doom lay in store for her. Though, some of them had asserted, if anyone could defeat the curse, it would be Tonks. If she got thrown into a volcano, they said, she'd come back out riding the lava on a Muggle skateboard.
"Now," said Tonks, her hair a bright, Hufflepuff yellow. "Today's lesson will be all about defence. If you ever find yourself fighting a Dark Wizard then, unless you're a trained professional, it would be in your best interests to run away. I know, don't look so sad, Gryffindors, it definitely isn't fun to run away, but it's how you'll stay alive. Point of fact, Dark Wizards know how to kill better than you do, and they have much less restraint. Even Aurors know when to escape if they must." Tonks brushed a bit of hair from her eyes, and pointed to a 6th year Slytherin. "Mind coming up here, young man?"
The remaining quarter of the class let out a sigh of relief, turning to where Harry sat in the back row, near the door. It was the peculiar habit of every defence professor to single out Harry for some reason, usually to disastrous results. The fact that Tonks hadn't done that was a huge mark in favour of her not being doomed.
Harry for his part, had relegated each defence professor to something between NPC and wallpaper. They were annoying enough to probe him to action on occasion, but beyond that, he barely noticed them. Two years ago, he didn't even realize until a month after the fact that the defence professor had been fired.
But what hadn't escaped Harry's notice was that Hermione Granger was standing behind Tonks, near the podium. She'd volunteered herself as Tonk's assistant.
Harry Potter didn't know if the curse would affect an assistant. What he did know was that the last three defence professors had been fired, sent to Azkaban and/or died. He planned to go straight after class to the Hogwarts library and ransack the bookshelves for information about the fates of previous defence professors' assistants, and if necessary he would contact McGonagall to verify the information with her. Then, he would approach Hermione and ask her very politely if she would please reconsider participating in this foolish endeavour. After all, even if you were an Alicorn Princess who might be immortal, it didn't make sense to put yourself in life threatening danger just because your friend needed help grading papers.
The 6th year Slytherin boy that Tonks called to the front walked with a slow swagger. He had been pegged as a shoo-in for the duelling circuit. Harry knew this, because he'd once blackmailed the boy to keep him quiet over certain matters, in exchange for not letting a few secrets slip that would bar him from entering the circuit. It was one of Harry's plots that he wasn't particularly proud of, but he didn't lose sleep over it, considering the 6th year was a complete jerk.
The 6th year stood with his arms folded, smirking, his posture and gaze showing his confidence.
"I hear you are quite skilled in duelling," said Tonks.
"Yes, Miss Tonks," he said.
"Well, then I hope you don't mind if I give you a little test," said Tonks. "In this scenario, I am a Dark Wizard, and you are my victim. You have 10 seconds to escape from me. If I strike you within 10 seconds, you lose. But if I don't, you win. I will only use spells that a 6th year could use, and they will result in no permanent injury. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect, but what do I get if I win?"
Tonks raised her eyebrows. "If you win, you'll get house points. I suppose 5 should be sufficient?"
Some of the boys in class were snickering. The Slytherin rubbed his close shaved head, a smirk on his face.
"Ahh," Tonks waved her hand, like she was batting away a fly. "I forgot, you're teenage boys. Well, how about this then? If you can avoid getting hit for 10 seconds, then I will take you to Hogsmead to get a butterbeer. I would, after all, want to discuss how exactly you were able to accomplish that. Anyone else interested in taking that bet? I can promise, this is the last time I'm offering."
Six more hands went up, all 6th and 7th year boys. Harry pegged them all as idiots.
Tonks walked back a few paces and raised her wand. "Ready? Go!"
Tonk's opponent instantly put up a rather impressive shield charm, and within seconds it was shattered, and the boy was knocked out.
"The spell I used is in your 5th year textbooks, if you care to look it up," said Tonks. "Next!"
A Gryffindor got up, leaping down the steps two at a time. During his fight, he tried using Weasley's Peruvian Darkness powder to hide himself, then shot stunning hexes from under cover. Tonks cast a stunning hex with a wide array. A few moments later, his friends dragged him out of the darkness, unconscious.
When Tonks called for her next opponent, a Hufflepuff approached. He immediately went on the offensive, attempting to keep Tonks on her toes long enough not to hit him. Tonks cast a spell that left the boy screaming and covering his ears, though no one heard anything. While he was distracted, she struck him.
It continued this way until the last student, a Ravenclaw, came to the floor. When their battle began, he instantly disappeared. That made Harry take notice, as it was extremely difficult to cast the disillusionment spell so quickly, since it usually took a few seconds to go into effect.
"Hominum Revelo!" cried Tonks, waving her wand. The boy was still invisible. Tonks stood very still for a long moment, while the whole classroom counted down on bated breath. Then, she turned around and fired to her right, and the boy slumped to the floor.
"That trick," said Tonks, with a half-smile. "I'm not going to explain, though it is certainly in the range of even a 4th year." Tonks returned to her seat on the desk. "What did we learn from this exercise?"
A Ravenclaw girl raised her hand. "We need better defence?"
"Not quite. None of you were able to last in a fight against me for 10 seconds, even though I was using spells that you were capable of. If you were facing a trained Auror, you would have been defeated instantly."
She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Let me try one more example. Hermione, can you come here, please?"
Hermione left the podium to stand by Tonks, and Harry half rose from his chair, his heart pounding. A mock duel was exactly the sort of thing that spelled doom for a defence professor. "This time, Hermione is an Auror, equipped with all the skills of one, and I'm a poorly trained Dark Wizard. Let's begin. Attack me."
Before Hermione could even send her first spell, Tonks said, "Aveda Kedavra."
Tonks had no wand, but several students still shrieked. A hush fell over the room as Tonks turned to them, an uncomfortable grimace on her face. "Sorry about that, but I thought it would help get the point across. The truth is, Dark Wizards can use incredibly powerful spells because they have the intent to kill, or at least to harm. Often that is all that is required to fuel their hexes and curses. Most Aurors cannot command these spells so easily, or so well. Aurors also won't stoop to using a Dark Wizard's non-magical offensive tactics, which can be just as deadly." Tonks didn't elaborate, but Harry thought of Voldemort nailing his enemy's skin to the wall. By the looks on some of his classmates' faces, he could tell they had their own mental images.
"So," continued Tonks. "If you come face to face with a Dark Wizard, remember that even the best defence can be broken. At some point, you may have to fight back. We are going to learn creative ways to handle Dark Wizards, starting with the basics. And that is, of course, developing a strong defence, so that you stay alive long enough to go on the offense."
As Tonks explained the next part of their lesson, Harry's gaze turned to Hermione, who was helping Tonks set up for their next activity. While their duel was a valuable lesson for the students, the rules didn't actually apply to Hermione. In a real battle, she could easily dodge any curse, including Aveda Kedavra. In fact, she would have time to run behind her enemy, grab their wand and snap it before they could draw breath for another spell.
Harry watched her carefully moving some practice materials, as if she wasn't strong enough to lift a car. She could change the game entirely. Dark Lords would fear her, because they couldn't touch her. She was smart enough to anticipate their moves, and powerful enough to stop them. Harry couldn't help feeling a bit of pride. Together, they would change the world.
That is, Harry reasoned, if he could get his act together.
Thursday, September 14th at 6:30 pm
Auror Lee cut into his steak, contemplating the magnitude of the mess he'd gotten himself into.
The 7th year Gryffindors he'd taught today had been by far the most pitiful group of all. When he'd asked them to tell him everything they knew about the life of Merlin, he'd gotten such nonsense as swords and stones and a Lady of the Lake. There was no history N.E.W.T exam, but if there was, he was certain they would all have failed it. He knew that Professor Binns was an ineffective professor, but he hadn't realized he'd taught them literally nothing.
The only house that seemed to know anything about history beyond the wizarding war was Ravenclaw, and not surprisingly, the students from Durmstrang. Their history professor, Señora Claudia, was the foremost expert on Magical Europe's history. She had perfected several memory charms that enhanced the recall of the countless subjects she'd interviewed for her series of books on the history of Durmstrang, Hogwarts, and Beauxbatons. She was also said to be a perfect Legimens who could wrest secrets even from the trees that looked upon a corpse who had decayed into dust fifty years ago. Unfortunately, the main thing he'd heard about her from Durmstrang was that she was extremely beautiful, which was the only reason some boys paid attention in her classes.
The Auror from Durmstrang, Casius Crell, was sawing into his meat with a disgruntled look on his face. His Auror in training, Caleb Mott, carefully mimicked the movement. Durmstrang had a reputation for being tough, and so of course they only became more so around the other schools. Beauxbatons, which was Auror Lee's alma mater, was known for their culture and commitment to excellence.
Auror Lee might have devoted more time to acting courteous and well mannered, had he not spent so long at Azkaban that he couldn't care less about the right way to hold a fork.
To his left, Hermione Granger of Beauxbatons cut into her meat with delicate strokes, marred only by the slight tremble of her fingers. Her air of grace was natural, her strength of magic phenomenal, but anyone would be exhausted from spending the day warding five square kilometres against Ashwinders, Boggarts, and Bitburn flies.
"Auror Crell, I'd like a report on the grounds preparations," asked Madam Bones.
"Everything goes well," he said in halting English. "The first ground has been fully warded. Nothing magical or physical can get in. Unless you have a key."
"How many portkeys are there?" she asked.
"Five," he said. "One for each Auror."
"Destroy two. Give me one. The rest of you can share."
Auror Crell nodded, and returned to being annoyed by his dinner.
"Auror Lee, give me your report on first task preparations."
Auror Lee told her the bad news. "The dragons have been delayed. There's some kind of legal issue with them coming across the border, now that they've been declared the national symbol of Bulgaria. They're endangered in several regions, though a nuisance in the rest."
"I have already tried talking to their ministry," said Auror Crell, shaking his head. "They are very worried about conditions of treatment, national security due to magical disease propogation..."
Madam Bones nodded. "Try getting them from somewhere else less restrictive. If you can't, tell me and I'll take care of it."
"Yes, ma'am," said Auror Lee.
The conversation went on for a bit. They only had these report dinners once a week, but they still seemed to drag on and on. Madam Bones was a capable director of both the Aurors and the Wizengamot, no one could deny that, but you couldn't really relax around her.
"Hermione Granger," said Madam Bones sharply.
The girl straightened up hastily, the blue sleeves of her Beauxbatons uniform almost swiping her fork off the table. "Yes, ma'am?"
"You don't look well." The director's voice was quiet and even. "Was your work today really so taxing?"
Hermione kept her gaze to the right of Madam Bones. "I should feel better after a night's rest."
"I hope so. It wouldn't be good for you to exhaust yourself so quickly. You've only been at your first task for three weeks. If you can't keep your energy up, this will become a problem. Aurors regularly have month long missions in deserted parts of the world, where there is no one to help you. If you're not careful, you will be caught unaware when you need to go into battle."
"Yes, ma'am," said Hermione, and Auror Lee could hear the tension in her voice.
There was no sound for the next few seconds except the clink of silverware.
"Where is Auror Tonks?" asked Madam Bones, her tone mild, but laced with displeasure.
There was another few seconds of silence. Then, Hermione spoke up, "She is getting ready for her classes tomorrow. There's a few things she has left to do, but she told me she's confident everything will be ready by tomorrow."
Madam Bones' smile was sharp, her eyes glinting. "Is that so? I'm sure Tonks appreciates all your help doing her work for her. I take it you are still keeping up with your classes as well?
Hermione blinked, and then nodded stiffly.
"I didn't hear you."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I wonder if it's any good to leave you with that Time-Turner, since all you seem to do is waste it on things that have nothing to do with your work. You would think the Girl-Who-Revived would have more sense."
Hermione flinched like she'd just been slapped.
Auror Lee felt bad for her, but he knew why Madam Bones was acting this way. Ultimately, if she could withstand this testing period, it would make her a stronger Auror. Hermione could handle it, just like he had when his mentor had done the same. Still, it unsettled him, to see that kind of pressure put on someone so young.
The conversation moved on to other subjects, before finally lapsing to silence as the meal drew to a close. Auror Lee thought about checking in with Hermione, just to make sure she was okay, but Madam Bones called her over before he got the chance. It wasn't a long conversation, but he saw the girl's face go pale. She left the room almost in tears.
Auror Lee had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Madam Bones," he said, catching her as she stood before the fireplace, connected to the floo network. "I don't mean to pry into your affairs, but…umm…what are you doing with Hermione?"
The Director turned from the fireplace, quiet for a moment as her grey eyes studied the Auror.
"I'm making preparations for Hermione to take the tests this weekend," she said, without ceremony.
For a moment, Auror Lee's brain stalled, as if it couldn't believe he'd just heard her say those words.
"Well, Auror Lee?" said Madam Bones, raising her eyebrows. "What do you think?"
Was she really asking his opinion? Madam Bones wasn't known to do that with anyone. "Honestly, ma'am, I think you should reconsider. She is only fifteen."
"We all had to go through the tests, once." Her eyes lingered on the crackling fire. "And she is no ordinary fifteen year old girl. The fame of the Girl-Who-Revived could carry her into the Auror position all by itself, to say nothing of her intelligence and skill. She will have powerful friends, but she will also make enemies. She has to prove that she can handle that sort of pressure."
Auror Lee was aware of Hermione's potential, and knew she was stronger than many girls her age. But Auror Lee's own son was fifteen, and he tried to imagine him going through the tests. His brain short circuited before it could go there.
"It will exhaust her," he said, trying to keep his voice level. "We need her at peak performance for the Triwizard Tournament preparations. If one of her enchantments goes wrong, and if we mess this up, it would be a huge scandal."
Madam Bones considered his suggestion. "When will the preparations be over?"
Things would slow down considerably by next month, but she'd asked when they'd be completed. "Most of them will be done by April."
"Very well. I'll wait until then," she said, then turned back to the floo fire. "Thank you for your counsel, Auror Lee. You probably think I'm too hard on her, but you can rest assured that I am more concerned for her safety than anyone. In fact, that's why I'm doing this now, rather than waiting until she's older."
"I understand, Director."
"I will be very busy this next month, so please only contact me in case of emergency. You can let Hermione know about the change in plans."
Auror Lee waited for Madam Bones to leave, and then heaved a sigh into the empty room. Then, he pulled out his mirror to call Hermione. And afterwards, his son.
Notes:
This story is a puzzle. Some of the scenes might seem like one-off humor anecdotes, but most of it contains clues to help you solve the mystery. So...can you figure out the Secret of the Patronus?
Interdict of Merlin:
This is a rule that prevents powerful magic from being transferred through writing, and only allows it to be passed on through living minds. If a wizard wishes to learn ancient and powerful spells, he or she will have to either discover it themselves through research, or learn it from a powerful wizard. A lot of knowledge in the wizarding world is restricted to those who "need to know" for this reason.
Also, I know Auror Lee from Beauxbatons was originally Auror Li from Hogwarts, but I took a little artistic license. ;)
