Chapter 14 - The Puppet Master

Ron was surprised. He'd thought he'd be all alone after his row with Hermione Granger and honestly most of the bloody school did hate him, but still… It turned out that not everyone was against him. Like his family. After Little Miss Perfect's coronation (good one Ginny!), his family was waiting for him in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"You're our brother, Ronnie," said Fred solemnly.

"We've always known you were a prat," said George.

"And we're not going to turn on you," said Fred.

"Because you're our brother, Ronnie," said George.

The Twins hugged him. Some dust must've gotten in his eyes… Bloody dust… Ron sniffed. "Thanks."

"Speak for yourselves," said Percy loudly, his chest as puffed out as when he'd told Mum and Dad he'd been Prefect. "I'd like to remind you that Scabbers was my pet for longer- but he was a death eater. I for one, see sense. I'm off to thank Hermione Granger for ensuring that Peter Pettigrew saw justice, and apologize to her for your quite frankly horribly atrocious behavior. If you want to have any success Ronnie, you'll follow my example."

"Percival Weasley," Mum snapped. "What are you doing? Your brother needs you!"

Percy clucked impatiently, and left the Common Room, followed by a horde of Gryffindors. Ron snorted. So much for house unity. Just because a Slytherin took down a single measly death eater and freed an innocent man from Azkaban and helped bring justice for a beloved staff member and won an Order of… But what about loyalty? Whatever happened to loyalty? Weren't Gryffindor's supposed to be loyal?

Well at least Harry had stayed. He was one of the good ones, a true friend, even if Harry did look like he'd been told he was too young to go flying with his brothers. "I don't understand. Why are you so angry with her? How could you do this?"

"I get it," said Neville Longbottom knowingly. "A lot of people laughed at me when I'd lost my toad. But Hermione was so nice and so helpful and she made me feel like we were friends and that I was worth something. And then she abandoned me as soon as it pleased her, and… I get it... I'm… I'm just Neville and she's… She's Hermione bloody Granger. I don't blame her, not for treating me like some kind of toy, but… She won't even admit that that's what she was doing, she won't even say that she's sorry!"

"Exactly," said Ron, a warmth blossoming in his stomach. Somebody actually understood!

"Well I've got know idea what you two are on about," said Harry stubbornly. "What does she have to be sorry for? Scabbers was a killer! You can tell yourself she's being too nosy, but in the end you're free from the Durs- from sleeping with a murderer! She didn't beat you, or starve you, or lock you in a cupboard, so I don't see the problem! Can't you just let this whole thing go? Hogwarts… Hogwarts isn't supposed to be like this!"

"Maybe if she says she's sorry I'll consider it," said Ron generously. For some reason he glanced at the Twins and thought of a giant spider. Yes, even after he'd cooled his head a little, he stood by his actions. "I just want to make sure she understands what she did wrong. If she says she's sorry I'll forgive her."

Harry nodded eagerly and ran off.

He returned a few hours later and told Ron that Hermione apologized that he'd chosen to be upset by a lie that was told to protect him from a serial killer and that she apologized that the difference between a pet rat and a serial killer seemed to somehow elude him.

Well it looked like Hermione wasn't so bloody perfect at all. She couldn't do one thing. Apologize. For some reason it brought a smile to his lips.

"She'll have to do better than that," said Ron.

Harry wilted, but didn't seem surprised.

The Great Hall was buzzing the next morning. Hermione and Ginny sat all alone at the Slytherin Table reading a newspaper and whispering to each other. Ron wished he could hear what they were saying. It was probably about him. No, he was just being crazy,why would their fellow Slytherins be glaring at them if they were gossiping about Mediocre Ron Weasley.

Draco strutted to Ron, and shook his hand. "You know Ron, I believe I've misjudged you. You're no blood traitor. While the rest of us had our heads in the clouds, you saw the truth. You tried to warn us. Slytherin thanks you and supports you."

Draco gave Ron a copy of The Daily Prophet and strutted away.

THE NEXT MERLIN RESCUES THE-BOY-WHO-LIVED FROM UNDERCOVER DEATH EATER

By Rita Skeeter

Monday morning the brilliant, beautiful, first-year student Hermione Granger, whom the Hogwarts records show as being a mudblood, defeated the undercover death eater Peter Pettigrew in a duel to the death. Pettigrew was an unregistered animagus hidden as the clueless, entitled, pure-blooded Ronald Weasley's pet rat…

Ron skipped over the retelling of the story, rolling his eyes at Hermione's exaggerations, until he got to the part with something new.

Of particular note is Miss Granger's heritage. While the records do show that Hermione was born to two muggle parents, does it not seem suspicious, dear reader, that a muggleborn was sorted into Slytherin of all places, displayed talent for magic not seen since Albus Dumbledore himself and indeed won an Order of Merlin before the end of her second month at Hogwarts? It will not surprise you to hear that there are rumors abound at Hogwarts that Hermione Granger's true father was Peter Pettigrew himself. Pettigrew was obviously a more talented wizard than he let on, clever enough to fool even Albus Dumbledore, that it seems only natural that a witch of Hermione Granger's caliber had such a sire. It's the obvious explanation.

Unfortunately.

Because it's the wrong one. Two extremely reliable sources disagreed with these bigoted rumors. Hermione Granger herself, who insists her father is a muggle teeth healer named Doctor Granger and has won a prestigious muggle award called a doctorate. The other is Peter Pettigrew who, when shown a picture of Hermione's mother, coincidentally also named Doctor Granger, denied having ever met the woman. If you, even for a second, believed that Hermione's parents were anything besides muggles I implore you to look inwards. Lord Voldemort's rise was not a mistake, and didn't happen because of other people. How could such an obviously false rumor have gained such traction under the stewardship of the famed muggleborn supporter Albus Dumbledore? Because Pureblood Supremacy is as real today as it was at the height of Lord Voldemort's power.

Perhaps nobody represents pure-blooded entitlement better than Ronald Weasley. Who, when saved from Peter Pettigrew by the young muggleborn witch, could only find spite in his heart. Ronald accused Hermione of being a murderer for daring to harm his property, his pet death eater, heartlessly reducing his savior to tears in front of the entire school. He even had the gall to demand an apology from the young Miss Granger, who of course had the good sense to refuse such an arrogant demand…

Ron paled as the article accused him of being a jealous, mediocre wizard, offended to be outshined by a muggleborn witch. A student who put forth little effort, possessed middling magic and cunning, appeared aloof and sarcastic, but nevertheless acted like he was entitled to popularity, to high marks, all because of the accomplishments of his older brothers. It detailed how he'd leaked out his magic like an obscurial in front of the entire school, how he'd had a similar incident in the Great Hall, and how he had a habit of whining and complaining whenever something good happened to others. Ginny had warned him. Rita Skeeter had publicly eviscerated him, and worst of all...

"What are we going to do to her?" Fred asked darkly, glaring at Hermione.

"We saw her talking to Rita yesterday," George said.

"We can make her pillow turn into-"

"No." Ron swallowed, putting down his copy of The Daily Prophet. He shoveled some scones onto his plate. "I don't think Hermione told Skeeter about this. And even if she did- it's all tr…"

Hermione and Ginny stood abruptly, and walked right to the Gryffindor Table.

"I'll get to the bottom of this," Hermione said importantly, pointing at the Daily Prophet. "I, of course, had nothing to do with the horrible libel Skeeter has aimed at you Ronald." Her golden Order of Merlin medallion glinted. She wore it around her neck like a necklace.

"I never said you did," said Ron indignantly. "Are you finally ready to say you're sorry?"

Hermione clucked. "You called me a murderer Ronald Weasley. That was really quite nasty of you."

"You promised me you'd keep Scabbers safe and you killed him!" Ron insisted quite reasonably.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're being completely unreasonable. I refuse to talk to you until you see sense."

"Yeah… Well… Well good! You're annoying anyways!"

Hermione huffed, fiddled superiorly with her bloody Order of Merlin, and bustled away indignantly.

"You do realize you're being a complete arse right?" Ginny asked, and followed after Hermione.

Ron knew. Yesterday he really had been upset, but that had already started to fade… He was still annoyed with Hermione, but his anger had cooled. But still… He felt… She had to say she was sorry. His conviction in that had only grown.

XOXOXOX

Two Days Earlier - Immediately after Pettigrew's Capture

"Do you recognize this woman?" The Old Fool showed Wormtail a picture of the clever mudblood's mother.

"No, I've never met her," Wormtail said, with the monotone of somebody under veritaserum. The greatest wizard who had ever lived, Lord Voldemort, knew he really should be watching Severus- evaluating whether The Old Fool had seduced his most able servant from his services. Instead his focus was entirely on the pathetic traitor Wormtail, who had cost Lord Voldemort his body. What was life after all, without indulgences?

Still life, obviously. The state of being. The only thing that mattered, no matter what anyone may say, especially that Old Fool.

"This is Doctor Emma Granger. Hermione's mother. And this is Doctor Dan Granger," said The Old Fool, holding out a picture of a middle-aged brown-haired man. "Hermione's father. The resemblance is uncanny, wouldn't you say?"

Wormtail shook and his eyes cleared. "No… She is my daughter, she has to be- or I wouldn't have spared her, I'd have killed-" But of course, the servant's magic could never overpower his master's, and Lord Voldemort's Confundus Charm overpowered his servant's memories, forcing him to go along with the fiction that he had been defeated by a first-year girl. And yet Wormtail's stricken expression remained. Fascinating. Betrayal was one of the few stimuli which had always been able to hold Lord Voldemort's wonder.

It had been well worth it to watch Wormtail's duel with the mudblood in person, under the cover of a Disillusionment Charm. The mudblood had caught his attention near the start of the year, and Lord Voldemort could confess to a certain level of curiosity. That was why he had revealed himself to her in their first real conversation. Not enough for her to be sure of his identity of course, but just enough to make her suspicious. His attention piqued by the girl, he'd decided to see if she might prove herself worthy of being his tool. A little baby Albus, ready to be molded into the key Lord Voldemort needed.

He'd ordered Wormtail against altering the girl's memories. He'd pointed her towards the possibility of Sirius Black's innocence and she'd followed up on his hints in a way that proved her worthiness. And then, well Lord Voldemort could admit that he was not a patient man, and so he'd ordered his puppet, The Heir of Slytherin, to begin his attack, and force the girl to confront Wormtail. If she could defeat him, then she would prove herself worthy of entering Lord Voldemort's services. If she lost, she'd be dead, and Wormtail would prove the more worthy servant.

In the end, Wormtail would have been caught even if he hadn't decided to intervene. The girl had placed a tracking charm on Wormtail after she'd put him to sleep, so Voldemort had hardly altered the outcome when he'd given the little mudblood some help in her duel, and put a small hole in Wormtail's freezing charm, allowing a single sword to slip through. Nor later, when he'd stunned poor Wormtail, when he'd tortured him as revenge for costing The Great Lord Voldemort his body… The Dark Lord was careful of course, and his Confundus Charm had done the trick, the discrepancies in Wormtail's memories could be written off to disorientation from losing a hand. The Old Fool suspected of course, but he would only take action if Voldemort forced his hand.

...Ahh Albus Dumbledore… He had always looked at Voldemort with such amusement, as if he were a fascinating puzzle… Albus's warmth had never been able to fool him… There was darkness in those glittering blue eyes that even the genius Lord Voldemort couldn't comprehend… Perhaps he was overthinking things, perhaps some people, like Albus Dumbledore, just liked to watch the world burn… Ahh, it seemed that even he was prone to flights of fancy. Evil did not exist, anymore than good, or love, or any of those other delusions that made people act like fools.

It was almost too late that Lord Voldemort remembered to play his part.

"Impossible," Voldemort spluttered. "A muggleborn could not possibly be so talented in magic!"

"Your misguided beliefs will only hold you back," said The Old Fool, his twinkling blue eyes meeting Voldemort's cold gaze. Only the Dark Lord's skill in occlumency kept him from bursting into laughter.

"Prongs," said Wormtail, horror etched onto his face. "Prongs, is this how you felt, when the Dark Lord arrived at your door? When you'd realized I had betrayed you? I'm sorry! I didn't know! I didn't know!"

The Old Fool's cheeky smile had vanished.

"Forgive me!" Wormtail bit his tongue. "I'm sorry!" Blood filled his mouth. "I didn't know!" He garbled empty utterances. Contrition to a dead man was the epitome of irrationality. James Potter no longer existed, and soon Wormtail wouldn't either.

"And how did you think your betrayal would feel?" The Old Fool asked, his voice thunderous.

"I thought I knew," Wormtail cried, choking on his blood. "When they told me to die for them. When they made me their Secret Keeper!" Tears streamed down the rat's face. "The Dark Lord explained it to me! How I was just a rat! How friendship was a lie! How I was only treating them as they treated me!"

"And you trusted him?" The Old Fool asked. "I cannot believe that you did not recognize his lies! You have never been such a fool Peter!"

"I was afraid. Angry." Wormtail shrank. "They're coming for me aren't they? The Dementors... Is it true? Will they really… Will they really take my soul?"

The Old Fool softened.

"Stupefy," Severus drawled. He paced to Wormtail and healed his bleeding tongue. "You will not talk me into mercy Pettigrew. You will not fool me into killing you, and I will not allow you to manipulate Dumbledore either. Nobody will save you. The dementors are coming for you Peter Pettigrew, to give you a little kiss. I will ensure that you're awake the whole time, to ponder your actions, to live your final moments in horror."

His Little Prince was acting suspiciously. But no… He no longer required Severus's services. Miss Granger had passed Lord Voldemort's initiation test exquisitely. Now, all that remained was to acquire her services. And so, a few hours later, when he was safely confined in the privacy of an empty and heavily warded room in the castle, Lord Voldemort penned a little letter to an old servant, and laughed and laughed.

His plans were proceeding perfectly.

XOXOXOX

Dear Draco,

As you have no doubt realized, The Daily Prophet has fallen under the evil warlock Dumbledore's influence. He has spread libel of Miss Granger's heritage in an effort to manipulate her into abandoning her own kind, and to use her for his own nefarious purposes. He wants to make her a symbol- the most brilliant witch in a hundred years a muggleborn. Such a notion is laughable of course, but my experience has taught me that, unfortunately, the common wizard is easily swayed. Those who share our cause would seek to undo this damage. They would not see the opportunity. But we Malfoys see the potential they have overlooked. Here is what I require from you…

-Lucius Malfoy

Of course. It was so obvious after Father explained it. Granger was the smartest person he had ever met- aside from Father of course, and himself. A girl like that couldn't possibly be a mudblood.

He peeled open the parcel, and ran his hands through the many pins inside.

Crabbe snatched one, and proudly attached it to his collar. "I knew Hermione was alright!"

Malfoy swatted the oaf's head. "Keep that hidden you dunce." Father had told him to be discreet with distribution; at least until he received a signal.

He sat next to Granger in Transfiguration and shared with her the good news.

"I've come to the realization that The Daily Prophet is full of lies. Saying your father is some muggle- as if a mudblood could ever win an Order of Merlin. You have my support," Malfoy informed her kindly, assuaging the worries the lowly girl was surely feeling without his backing. "You have nothing to be ashamed of- I know your father is Peter Pettigrew."

"My father is not Peter Pettigrew," Granger squeaked angrily. "I just made that up to fit in! I'll have you know that my dad isn't some low-class criminal, he's a highly respected doctor!"

Malfoy could only gawk. What kind of backwards dunderhead would insist that their father was a muggle instead of a wizard- especially when they had been such a valuable member of the noble order of death eaters?

A pudgy Hufflepuff boy snorted- sharing Malfoy's sentiments. "Please Granger," he drawled in a voice fit for a pureblood. "I read the paper. Don't try to play coy- your father may be a doctor but he's just a lowly dentist. You've done very well of course Granger, for a peasant, but in the end you can't change your blood."

Granger blushed angrily, but before she could respond McGonagall started the class. Malfoy eyed the Hufflepuff curiously. He'd thought he'd known all the purebloods in Hogwarts, but apparently there was one he'd overlooked. Malfoy moved to correct his mistake. "Tell me your name."

"I'm Justin Finch-Fletcherly, of the Finch-Fletcherly family," said the boy imperiously. "You've heard of us I expect- we're the eighth wealthiest family in all of Britain. What's your name, peasant?"

"Quiet please," said McGonagall.

"Draco Malfoy," said Malfoy eagerly. He loved the fear and respect his name inspired. But Finch-Fletcherly had no reaction. Why? "I've never heard of the Finch-Fletcherly family, so you can't be that wealthy."

Finch-Fletcherly scoffed. "Our assets total more than ten billion pounds. I've a copy of Sony's yet to be released PlayStation already- and I don't even play video games. I can meet any of the players on Manchester United whenever I want- Father owns the team."

"If you are in conversation, please cease," said McGonagall.

Malfoy sneered, he hadn't understood any of what Finch-Fletcherly had said, but he recognized a challenge to his wealth when he heard it. He'd put the boy back in his place. "My family requires three vaults from Gringotts- two just aren't large enough to hold all the galleons. Father is the majority owner of the Tutshill Tornados- a proper quidditch team, not some rubbish club I've nev-"

"Mister Malfoy, Mister Finch-Fletcherly," interrupted McGonagall rudely. "That is quite enough. Three points from Hufflepuff. Three points from Slytherin. Now be silent."

Malfoy seethed. "Are you quite sure you want to do that McGonagall? If so, I'm afraid that I'll have to inform Father of your rude and unfair behavior."

"I quite agree with Malfoy," said Finch-Fletcherly, similarly irritated about the jumped-up halfblood's nerve. "Perhaps I'll have Father arrange for a more qualified Transfiguration teacher- one who knows her place when speaking to nobility. Knowing that, are you quite sure about crossing me McGonagall?"

"Oh, I'm quite sure," said McGonagall smugly, chuckling.

"I should have gone to Durmstrang," Malfoy muttered to himself. "They'd have treated me properly."

"I should have gone to Eton," Finch-Fletcherly muttered to himself. "They'd have treated me properly."

Eton? He'd never heard of such a place. Regardless, he was glad to have met at least one other boy with a modicum of class in this dreadful school of mongrels. Life was looking up, and the day went by pleasantly enough until supper.

"I have good news and bad news," said the old fool, Dumbledore. "Let us begin with the good news. I have decided to create a new elective class, open to any student who wishes to join. Dueling."

That was… It was… Well even an old fool like Dumbledore was bound to come up with a good idea once in a while.

Dumbledore continued. "I've brought a few people in to help teach the new class: Sirius Black, Arthur Weasley, and Gilderoy Lockhart."

Malfoy scowled as the sound of girls swooning filled the Great Hall. Of course. Arthur Weasley. Malfoy should have known there would be a catch. Learning dueling from a Weasley would be like learning Transfiguration from a house elf- likely worse in fact.

"In addition Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell have agreed to provide aid to the new teachers."

Severus would be there? Perhaps dueling would be fun after all.

Dumbledore sighed. "And now… The bad news… One of our students, Justin Finch-Fletcherly was petrified in the same manner as Missus Norris. Eventually we will be able to cure the both of them. Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive them. Before sharing the good news, I ask once again, that if you know any information about the Heir of Slytherin, you share it with me. I fear that young Justin was lucky to escape with petrification. The next time the Heir of Slytherin strikes, it will likely be fatal. Evil exists when good men do nothing."

Dumbledore stared at the Slytherin Table, right at Hermione Granger. Ginny Weasley paled and scooted away from her.

That was clearly the signal to begin distributing the pins. But Malfoy hesitated- just for a moment.

What if Father was wrong?

What if Hermione was a mudblood? What if Father was mistaken? Afterall, that was what Hermione herself had claimed. The filthy mudblood had been playing them for fools! Laughing at Malfoy, laughing at all of Slytherin, she'd always had a way of looking down her nose at him. Making a fool of him in Charms, showing him up in Potions! Acting like she was so clever, and she even had Father eating out of the palm of her hand! He wouldn't allow it!

Malfoy shook his head. What was he thinking? A mudblood couldn't have gotten one over on him. They certainly couldn't win an Order of Merlin.

"Flint," said Malfoy, handing his captain one of the badges Father had given him. "Don't you think it's suspicious…"

XOXOXOX

"Granger," said Draco, sitting beside her on the Slytherin Table. He offered her a badge. "I just wanted you to know that Slytherin supports you. We don't believe the lies being told about you in The Daily Prophet."

Hermione glared at the badge. It read I Support Hermione Pettigrew. Did she really want to play this game again? No, it seemed unwise. She'd elaborated on her heritage in The Daily Prophet. She wasn't some unknown witch anymore, she'd won an Order of Merlin. To appease the blood purists now would mean disappointing those fighting for muggleborn equality. She didn't want to let down Headmaster Dumbledore. To let down Harry. Nor Ron. Nor Gin-

"Give it here," Ginny said, taking a badge from Draco. She pinned it on her chest.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"There's some crazy loon attacking muggleborns," said Ginny. "I don't care what Hermione's blood is- but some people do."

She'd almost forgotten: The Heir of Slytherin. If she balked now, after Justin Finch-Fletcherly had been petrified, she'd look like a coward trying to save her own skin. On the other hand, if the Heir petrified her, she'd lose months of instruction! It seemed likely that she'd be the next target- given that Finch-Fletcherly had been petrified after he'd belittled pureblooded wealth, Hermione would surely be next if she denied this olive branch.

"Bloody hell!" Ginny swore, as the badge changed colors and displayed a new message: Skeeter Stinks!

"Rita Skeeter made a mistake trying to make you into some muggleborn symbol," said Draco angrily. "Father will make her pay for her lies. He controls Wizengamot- we're investigating that jumped up reporter, and we'll throw her in Azkaban once we find something."

Now that was intriguing. Hermione took the badge thoughtfully. After Ron had immaturely thrown a fit and ruined her award ceremony, Hermione had been quite cross until Ginny had explained how Ronald had a tendency towards jealousy, and shared stories about his childhood antics. Ginny had explained that Ronald's hissy fit was a symbol of affection, and while Hermione had every right to be annoyed, she ought to forgive him. Somehow Miss Skeeter had overheard. Quite suspicious. For that matter, how had Miss Skeeter come into contact with Pettigrew?

Yes. There was something shady about Miss Skeeter, and if Hermione uncovered it, and forced the horrid woman to retract her statements, Ronald would surely be impressed with Hermione's cleverness. Her Order of Merlin, while a high honor, had little to do with Ronald personally. That was why he wasn't impressed with the award. Surely if she won another, he would fall for her.

Afterall, she certainly wasn't going to give Ronald that ridiculous apology he wanted.

Hermione took the badge and pinned it primly on her chest. She did this for love of course. She would do anything for love. The rest of Slytherin followed her lead, and clipped the badges onto their chest, proudly reclaiming the most brilliant witch for their own.

XOXOXOX

Albus Dumbledore paled as the naive Miss Granger took the badge which symbolized Lord Voldemort's influence. He should have realized sooner, but it was far too late to save the girl from the trap which had just closed on her.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Sorry for the long delay. I've been busy with a new job that's been taking about 60 hours a week, and I haven't had the energy to write much. But hopefully, I'll have more time to write in the future. Thanks to ILRB80 for beta reading! And now onto the reviews!

The lone wolf123 - I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for the review!

Iwik - I hope this chapter balanced things out a bit. The Twins and Ginny do have Ron's back, but none of them respect him. I will say that I have Ron's ending planned out, and he gets a happy one. Thanks for the review!

ViviTheFolle - I thought of this chapter as Lord Voldemort's actually. I wanted to give you guys a peek at how he's been manipulating things behind the scenes. And you're spot on about Hermione not apologizing. That ain't gonna happen, even if she should and it would make her life easier. Thanks for the review!

Luiz4200 - That's an interesting take on Harry's character. Probably fair too. I might have to think on how to incorporate it into the story.

Yuna Nightshade - Hermione's character is what happens when you max out intelligence and put no points in wisdom. Thanks for the review!

James Birdsong - Thanks!