My beta-readers, fredfred and InquisitorCOC, deserve a huge thank you. They helped a lot.

Chapter 46: The New Year's Party

Ministry of Magic, Whitehall, London, Wizarding World, December 31st, 2005

Ron stepped out of the fireplace, stumbling a little, and resisted the urge to whistle. The Ministry's Atrium was dominated by a giant floating '2006' sign - a real-life hologram - that changed colour as it slowly rotated around itself, next to a giant clock in the same style. And hundreds of tiny stars sparkled as they flitted around. Although something was off…

"We should have come earlier," Hermione commented as he stepped up to her side. She flicked her wand to clean some soot off his dress shirt.

"We're early," he replied. The party was supposed to open at eight, and it was a quarter to eight.

"Not early enough," she said as he offered her his arm.

A moment later, the first flashbulb went off, and the other guests started to move towards them. What the… Oh. "Were they just waiting until we joined arms?" he whispered.

"Yes," she replied sotto voce. "At such events, it's customary to ignore people stepping out of the fireplace until they signal that they have officially arrived. No one wants to appear soot-stained in the papers, after all."

"Ah." That would've been nice to know beforehand.

"Sorry."

"No problem."

Then they crossed the cordon line, and everyone wanted to greet Hermione.

"Miss Granger!"

"Hermione!"

"So good to see you!"

"Hello!"

"Hi!"

Hermione kept smiling, although her smile became a little forced - not that Ron thought anyone in the crowd would notice; they wouldn't know her as well as he did. And he couldn't spot any of her friends nearby. She also returned the greetings as they made their way through the crowd to the… buffet, he decided. That would be the best spot for them right now. "Let's get something to eat," he said.

"Good idea."

They were halfway to the buffet when another witch stopped them. "Hermione!"

"Hello, Su."

"I still can't believe it! Did St Mungo's identify the curse that struck you?" She beamed at Hermione. "And hello, Mr Weasley."

"Good evening."

"Su, this is Ronald, my boyfriend. Ronald - this is Su Li. We were in the same year at Hogwarts."

"Ravenclaw! We always thought Hermione should've been in our house."

That explained her nosiness.

"As to your question: I'm making other arrangements for treatment," Hermione told the witch.

"Oh. But will you publish the results?"

"That depends on the results. I don't want my medical history spread all over the Daily Prophet's front page," Hermione replied in a slightly pointed tone.

"Ah. I didn't think of that. But would they really do that? Things have changed since you, ah… disappeared." Now Li's smile started to slip a little.

"I survived." Hermione shrugged.

"But you lived as a muggle for years! Without knowing that you were a witch, or that you had family and friends!"

"I also met Ronald during that time."

Ron flashed the witch a smile.

"Ah, of course."

"And we're a little hungry," Ron said, nodding towards the buffet.

"Ah, yes - it's a great spread. They say Mrs Weasley baked a cake, but the dessert buffet isn't out yet. Although they say that every year, and it has never been confirmed." Li beamed at Hermione once more.

"I don't know if it's true, either."

"It's probably a trick by the twins," Ron said. It sounded like something his brothers or their counterparts would do.

"Oh. You know them? I mean, of course you do, just… I didn't think you were that closely related."

"We're not, but we've already spent some time with the family," he replied.

"Ah."

"And we've met Lavender as well," Hermione said with an obviously fake smile.

"Ah."

They reached the buffet and Li still hadn't found someone else to talk to.

"So, who else from school have you already met?"

"Apart from Harry, Ron and the Weasleys, Luna, of course," Hermione told her.

"Charming girl," Ron cut in.

"Ah." Li was grimacing again.

"Luna was in Ravenclaw as well," Hermione explained. "But she had some trouble with her housemates."

"Some didn't like her," Li said. After a moment, she nodded. "I think I've questioned you enough, haven't I?"

Ron smiled at her attempted joke - politely.

Hermione simply nodded. "Not at all." Although as soon Li had left, she sighed. "House stereotypes are stupid, but sometimes, there's a grain of truth in them. Ravenclaws are said to be more curious than polite."

"I see." Ron nodded. Wizarding Luna was sometimes like that, though even then she was more charming than Li had been. Although that might just be his own bias speaking.

He still didn't like Li.

As he reached for some finger sandwiches, one of the fluttering lights drew closer, almost swooping down on to the sandwich, and he realised that it wasn't a floating lightbulb, but… a pixie?

"A fairy," Hermione corrected him - he must have spoken out loud. "Pixies are a pest, but fairies traditionally serve as decorations at various wizarding events."

"Oh." He took a closer look, and the fairy smiled at him, its wings buzzing as it performed a figure of eight. He stretched his hand out, palm up, and it landed on it, then struck a pose that made him smile.

"They're very vain, so they like performing like this. That's also why they like serving as Christmas tree decorations."

"Oh. Are they sapient?" With such a small brain? On the other hand, he hadn't lost his intellect when he had been shrunk...

"Sentient but not sapient, I think is the correct term. Animal-level intelligence." Hermione shrugged. "You should ask Luna; she's the expert on magical creatures."

"Ah." He looked around, and the fairy flew off again. "Speak of the devil…" There was wizarding Luna, at the other end of the buffet, talking to wizarding Ginny.

"Let's go talk to them," Hermione suggested. "Before we're accosted again."

He nodded - he could already spot people moving towards them.

"There you are!" wizarding Luna exclaimed, then moved to hug both of them - while holding a glass of champagne in one hand and a plate full of mini-cakes in the other. Ron expected to feel some liquid running down his back, but, somehow, she managed not to spill anything.

"Hello, Luna. Hello, Ginny," he said as wizarding Luna withdrew.

"Hello, Ronald." Wizarding Ginny's greeting was not quite as exuberant as wizarding Luna's. At least not towards him - he could see how her smile grew as she looked at Hermione. "Hermione! You came!"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss this," Hermione replied.

"Really?" Wizarding Luna frowned a little. "Wouldn't you prefer a more private celebration?"

Hermione side-stepped the question. "All my wizarding friends are here."

"And a lot of people who want to be your 'friend'," wizarding Ginny added.

"Yes. Su talked more to me today than in a month at Hogwarts," Hermione said.

"Oh, her. She's become as bad a gossip as Parvati and Lavender at their worst." Wizarding Ginny snorted.

"She's just curious," wizarding Luna retorted. "Everyone is. Understandably so, of course. It's an incredible story."

Ron narrowed his eyes slightly - was wizarding Luna hinting at something?

"I understand," Hermione told her. "But I'd like some privacy."

"You could also just talk to everyone for a week - satisfy their curiosity," wizarding Ginny suggested. "People care more about what they can't have." She grinned. "Harry and I found that out after the war. The press was awful."

"I didn't think you'd have trouble with the press." Hermione frowned again. "Not like we had during… our time at Hogwarts."

"Oh, there's no second Skeeter, but journalists still bothered us a lot - and again after the kids were born. Trying to hide wasn't working well."

"Ah."

"The Quibbler put out a special edition," wizarding Luna added with a smile. "With a poster."

"You could do that for Hermione as well, couldn't you?" wizarding Ginny asked.

Wizarding Luna shook her head. "I think the Daily Prophet would be the better choice in this particular case."

Ron frowned why wouldn't they…? Oh. Of course - Hermione's public story was a lie.

"There you are!"

For a moment, Ron thought it was Harry. His Harry. But no, it was his friend's counterpart. With Ron's counterpart and wizarding Lavender in tow. Great.

They exchanged greetings while wizarding Harry and wizarding Ginny kissed.

"You look great, Hermione," wizarding Lavender said.

"You too," Hermione replied.

Neither witch sounded as if they meant it.

Ron merely nodded at his counterpart.

"Nice beard," wizarding Ron commented with a smirk.

Ron clenched his teeth for a moment. It was a disguise, not a fashion statement. "Thank you."

Then both wizards hugged Hermione, and, as they did so, Ron looked around for possible threats.

"Glad you could make it," wizarding Ron said. "We weren't sure."

"Oh?" Hermione frowned again before the buzzing background noise of a privacy charm filled Ron's ears.

"What with Luna being a suspect in the escape of some stone lice in Berlin."

"Really?" Wizarding Luna looked so surprised, Ron would have been fooled if he didn't know any better.

"Yes. An entire house was lost before they could stop them," Harry said.

"How peculiar. Perhaps the house owner had failed to get his building properly warded?"

"Really?" Wizarding Ron snorted.

Wizarding Luna nodded emphatically. "There's no other explanation. But why would they suspect me?"

Wizarding Harry shook his head. "The affected building sold a unicorn horn the day before - to a group of people who were very interested in the stone lice reserve. British people."

"How peculiar." Wizarding Luna shook her head. "And how does that involve me? There are thousands of British witches. And hundreds with an interest in magical creatures. The Stone Louse Sanctuary is, after all, Berlin's most famous attraction. Even other worlds have heard about it!"

"In a cartoon on TV, apparently," Hermione explained. "Probably a coincidence."

"Oh." Wizarding Ron looked surprised.

His friend, though, merely sighed. "Just be more subtle, please. Kingsley has enough work; he doesn't need international problems, too."

"But he's not responsible for people failing to keep their household spells up to date," wizarding Luna stated. "Especially not in Berlin!" She cocked her head. "Did they evacuate the poor little lice properly? The ICW wouldn't be happy if they killed endangered magical creatures."

Wizarding Ron grinned. "I don't think so. That should shut up the Prussians. Thanks, Luna!"

"For what?"

Ron couldn't tell if the witch was acting or honestly confused.

"Well, as long as there are no stone lice in England…" Lavender said after a moment.

"Not in the wild," Luna said. "That wouldn't be nice for Prussian Stone Lice. They would get all confused."

"Luna…"

Suddenly, everyone looked very concerned. And Ron felt the urgent need to find out what dangerous magical creatures could be found in America. Not that he could ask here - he didn't want his counterpart and Hermione's other wizarding friends to know about their plans.

"What?" wizarding Luna asked. "Do you want me to introduce an invasive species to Britain?"

She sounded as if she was honestly confused.

"Of course not," Hermione said.

"Good." Wizarding Luna nodded again. "That would be very irresponsible - they don't have any natural predators in Britain."

"What natural predators do they have?" wizarding Ginny asked.

"Prussian Bowtruckles," wizarding Luna told her. "Although they went extinct when the Prussian Ministry decided to exterminate stone lice, depriving them of their food source. They couldn't adapt to their food hiding in buildings instead of eating rocks."

"What about other predators?"

"Some muggle insects and arachnids eat stone lice as well, but they aren't commonly found in buildings, either."

In other words, if those pests ever got free, they'd have a huge problem on their hands until the wizards could contain them. And yet… "Spiders." Ron shuddered.

"Oh, you don't like them, either, do you?" his counterpart asked.

"Not at all," Ron confirmed.

"Oh. Was that the twins' fault?" wizarding Lavender asked.

Ron nodded. "Though a recent encounter with a giant spider didn't really help, either." He shuddered again.

"You went to the Acromantula lair?" Wizarding Ron gaped. "What for?"

"No, we didn't," Hermione quickly said. "We had to shrink ourselves during a mission in the other world," she said, "and we ran into a spider."

"Merlin's beard!" Ron's counterpart shuddered. "And without a wand?"

"Yes. We managed to kill it, though," Ron told him. "Squashed it with a book."

"With a book?" Wizarding Lavender stared at them.

"I had my library in my enchanted bag, so when I pulled out a book it was normal sized since it hadn't been shrunk," Hermione explained.

"Splat - squashed spider," Ron added.

"But…" Wizarding Harry narrowed his eyes. "For that to work, you must have been almost on top of it."

"It was a little tricky," Ron admitted. "But, obviously, we survived. I took a heavier rifle for the next mission, though."

"Which didn't do anything against the snake," Hermione commented.

"Well, nothing would have helped against that. We were saved by an owl that time," Ron said. "Wild owl," he added before they could ask.

"You're crazy," wizarding Lavender said, shaking her head.

"We've done similar things," wizarding Ron told her. "Remember?"

"You did," she replied, sniffing. "I was a very sensible witch at school."

"Most of the time," he told her.

She winced for a moment, then nodded.

Everyone else seemed to know what they meant. Ron would have to ask Hermione later about that.

"I really wish I could've taken my twin as a date," wizarding Luna said. "We could've disguised her like Ronald. Well, not with a beard; that would have looked a little weird. Although we might've disguised her as a man…"

"Your twin?" Wizarding Ginny asked.

Ron saw Hermione shut her mouth - she probably had been about to lecture them again about disguises and their need to not be too obvious.

"My dimensionally displaced twin sister!" Wizarding Luna beamed. "It's like my family doubled overnight!"

"Ah."

Ron looked at his counterpart and forced a fake smile on his face, which was returned in equal measure. It went without saying that no one shared wizarding Luna's attitude towards their doubles. Well, with the possible exception of Hermione - although having two sets of parents might be a burden for her as well as a blessing.

"So… when's the dancing?" Ron asked to break the sudden silence.

"That's usually after the Minister's speech," wizarding Harry told him.

"Watch out, parents coming," Ron's counterpart cut in, nodding towards the side. "Better drop the privacy charm."

Ron turned. Indeed, Mr and Mrs Weasley were headed towards them, followed by wizarding Percy and... Penny, was it? And behind them came the twins' counterparts and Angelina.

He glanced around and spotted Bill - wizarding Bill - with Fleur.

It really looked like a Weasley party right now. The only one missing was Charlie. Ron blinked. "Say… who's watching all the kids?"

"Hagrid," wizarding Ron told him. "He's used to dealing with dangerous animals, so he'll be fine."

Judging by the expression on Hermione's face, she didn't share his opinion. "Hagrid?"

"Well, Dobby's helping," wizarding Ginny said. "He's got experience. But this isn't the first time Hagrid's babysat, Hermione."

Hermione still didn't look like she believed her friend.

Something else to ask her about later, Ron thought as the privacy charm faded and they were greeted by the other Weasleys. For now, he'd try his best to enjoy the party.

"...and you really lived as a muggle for seven years? Without remembering your family and friends? I can't imagine how awful that must have been!" the witch - Susan Bones, apparently the niece of Bones's counterpart and a former classmate of Hermione's - exclaimed.

Her date, Terry Boot, yet another former classmate, nodded.

"Well, I didn't actually know what I was missing," Hermione lied. "And I made new friends," she added, gripping Ron's arm a little more tightly.

"Oh, of course," Bones was quick to reply, giving Ron a quick glance. "But to live without magic… you must be very relieved to have recovered."

"Yes."

"I wouldn't have survived, I think," Boot added. "I wouldn't have known the first thing about how muggles live."

"Although living as a muggle isn't too bad," Ron had to comment. "My best friend and my family did it for years." Well, his family in his world.

"Ah, certainly, but…" Bones trailed off. "I mean, you didn't know better, either, did you?"

He couldn't resist. "Oh, I've dreamed of magic since I could read." Well, since he had been able to read Uncle Gideon's fantasy books that had ended up in the attic.

"What?" Boot blurted out, staring at him openly for the first time. "Are you… are you the Weasley squib?"

"What? No. I didn't even know we were family," Ron told him as Bones glared at Boot.

"But you dreamed of magic?"

"I've read a lot of books about magic," Ron said.

"You did?" Bones looked shocked.

"Fictional books written by muggles," Hermione said, her smile a little too wide. Spoilsport.

Ron nodded. "Yes. So I wasn't completely flabbergasted when Hermione revealed the truth to me. Even though most of what I expected was wrong."

"Ah." Bones nodded. "So, Hermione, how was the Weasley Christmas Dinner? It's legendary at the Ministry."

"Oh, it was as you would expect," Hermione replied. "Great food, great company, but very lively."

"All the Weasleys in one place…" Bones chuckled as she shook her head. "Especially the twins. The things they came up with at Hogwarts!"

"I know," Hermione told her. "I was the only prefect trying to rein them in, as I recall."

"Oh, yes. One time, they left their sweets out, and Hannah…" Bones abruptly shut her mouth.

Hermione nodded.

Hannah must have been another witch who hadn't survived the war, Ron concluded, a little belatedly.

Before anyone could say anything else, an older woman approached them. "Miss Granger. Miss Bones. Mr Boot."

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione's face lit up as the others mumbled their greetings. "Oh, I should have visited Hogwarts already! But I've been so busy…"

"Completely understandable," the older witch - apparently a teacher - said, "given your circumstances."

"Yes." Hermione nodded, then turned to Ron. "Professor, this is Ronald Weasley. Ronald - Professor McGonagall. She is the Headmistress of Hogwarts and used to teach Transfiguration."

"Ah. I'm a muggle Weasley," Ron told McGonagall.

She nodded at him, though with a rather stern expression. "So I've heard." She turned to Hermione. "I was overjoyed to hear that you survived."

"Everyone was," Bones cut in.

"I was wondering about your plans for your education," the professor went on, "and whether you plan to take your N.E.W.T.s. I know you did study during the war, but it's been seven years since."

"I'm planning to take my N.E.W.T.s, but I haven't yet decided when. I'm still adjusting to, well, everything. There's so much to sort out," Hermione replied.

"If you need any assistance, please don't hesitate to contact me, Miss Granger. It would be a shame if such a brilliant mind didn't finish her education."

Ron refrained from frowning. He didn't refrain from butting in. "She went to university," he pointed out.

"Well, I wouldn't have expected anything less." McGonagall beamed at Hermione, who smiled back.

"Thank you, professor."

Ron wondered - not aloud, of course - if the witch had any idea how difficult earning a doctorate was, especially after spending seven years at magic school. He was about to mention that when an older wizard approached.

"Miss Granger!" The man beamed at her. "Minerva. Susan. Mr Boot."

"Professor Slughorn." Hermione's greeting was noticeably less enthusiastic than before. "Ronald - this is Professor Slughorn. Professor - Ronald Weasley."

"The muggle Weasley," Ron said, nodding at the man.

"So I've heard. Remarkable. Truly remarkable." Contrary to his words, the wizard turned right back to Hermione. "I was overjoyed to hear that you survived your ordeal. It's almost a Christmas miracle, isn't it?"

"Is that what the Prophet is calling it?" Hermione laughed, though it sounded a little forced.

"They might," Slughorn replied with a wide smile. "Although it might depend on who is writing a particular article. I would've sent you an invitation to the Slug Club Holiday Dinner, but I assumed that you would prefer to spend the holidays with your close family and friends."

"I did," Hermione said.

"But, as we've been told, this is practically the Weasley New Year's Party," Ron added. "So, almost a family event."

"Indeed, indeed." Slughorn chuckled. "Although since everyone wants to talk to you, you might have preferred a more private occasion for your return to wizarding society."

"So far, I've managed," Hermione replied.

"Good, good. I hope to see you at my next get together."

This was the wizarding old boy's network, Ron realised. Although it didn't seem to be limited to boys.

"Miss Granger!" Shacklebolt was charming, as behoved a politician, in Ron's opinion. "I hope you've been enjoying the party so far."

"I have, thank you," Hermione replied.

"And you, Mr Weasley?"

"It's very impressive," he told him.

"I'm happy to hear that." Shacklebolt nodded, then turned back to Hermione. "Please don't think I was ignoring you; I assumed you didn't want to be dragged into the spotlight again."

She nodded at him. "You were correct. I'm still not used to drawing such attention."

"The press isn't allowed to bother guests, either," the wizard added. "Though that rule was implemented years ago."

"I can imagine."

So could Ron. Especially if wizarding Harry held similar sentiments towards the tabloids as Ron's friend.

"So, what are your impressions?" Another beaming smile followed - Shacklebolt was probably very popular. "As a recent arrival, you're bound to be more objective than most others."

"It reminds me of Christmas at Hogwarts," Hermione told him.

"Good." The Minister nodded a few times. "I'll pass your compliments on to the organisers."

Ron wasn't sure if Hermione had meant her comment as an unqualified compliment. Who would want to hear that their great event was like a school party? On the other hand, everyone in Wizarding Britain went to Hogwarts for seven years. Except for immigrants and squibs, of course. And the muggle partners of wizards and witches. So they might have much more positive feelings about Hogwarts. And it certainly looked like a very impressive castle from the outside.

But the Minister was already continuing: "And it seems you've weathered the deluge of people wishing to talk to you well. I hope it wasn't overwhelming."

"Not at all," Hermione replied. "Many were old friends from Hogwarts. Or Order members."

Ron didn't recall many of the latter - unless all the Weasleys counted, of course.

"Ah! Good, good. Though I do hope no one's tried to drag you into politics already."

That sounded a little condescending to Ron.

Judging by the hint of teeth showing in Hermione's smile, she shared his impression. "If they were, they were too subtle for me to notice."

"Ah, that could very well be the case. Despite my best efforts, the Wizengamot remains dominated by old and experienced wizards and witches. Most of them are so used to each other that a few hints are enough to make their intentions plain to one another. It can be a little frustrating if you're not used to it." The Minister shrugged.

"I would've expected Voldemort to have gotten rid of most of the Wizengamot, and to have corrupted the rest," Hermione said with a frown.

"He did, and we dealt with the survivors. However, their successors are mostly cut from the same cloth, so to speak - at least with regards to their age. Most of the younger crowd went into the Ministry, like Harry and Ron. Of course, the Ministry had suffered even more under Voldemort."

"So I've heard. However, since we're speaking about old traditions - isn't it time to get rid of Azkaban? Or at least the Dementors? You've had seven years, an entire Hogwarts generation, to recover, so there should no longer be a lack of manpower that would justify such a despicable expedient. It'snothing less than torture for the prisoners - we should be above such practices. Especially after fighting Voldemort." Hermione all but glared at the Minister.

Shacklebolt winced, Ron noticed. "Unfortunately, it's not that easy. While the curse on the Defence teacher's post has been broken by the Dark Lord's death, that didn't help the older students much. It's only now that people are finishing Hogwarts who have had the benefit of a decent Defence teacher for all their years there."

"It seems that now would be the best time to stop employing those monsters, then." Hermione lifted her chin - she was digging her heels in.

"But whoever we hire now wouldn't have any experience - and, as we've discovered, the most talented wizards and witches prefer other positions in the Ministry to serving as prison guards. And we do need the best to guard the worst dark wizards, or we would risk escapes or accomplices breaking the prisoners out." The Minister shook his head. "We cannot allow that to happen. We need to keep the Dementors for at least a few more years."

"I'm sure that raising the salary of those positions would make them more popular." Hermione scoffed. "Well worth the price."

"Or rotate Aurors through?" Ron suggested.

"That would harm Auror recruitment and retention." Shacklebolt shook his head. "And we need every Auror we can recruit since the Corps was effectively wiped out in the war. Would you really sacrifice the protection of our people just to save the worst criminals a certain amount of pain?"

"It's torture! Constant, ongoing torture!" Hermione retorted. "We're supposed to be better than that."

"Should we execute every criminal instead? Even those who don't deserve a life sentence, but are still dangerous?" The Minister shook his head again. "That's not a solution, either. We're still recovering from the war; we just don't have the resources to reform Azkaban. Where would you make the cuts? St Mungo's? The Obliviators? The ICW would condemn us for endangering the Statute of Secrecy."

Hermione pointedly looked around. "This doesn't look like an event organised by a Ministry on the verge of collapse."

"It doesn't cost much to organise a party - much was done by volunteers. But not many of those who can cook a great feast or decorate a room can or would serve as prison guards."

Ron saw Hermione clench her teeth and purse her lips - which meant that the Minister was correct, and she was loath to admit it. "You could increase your revenue."

"That's far easier said than done," Shacklebolt retorted. "Most of our revenue comes from licensing fees for businesses and customs, and both were affected by the war. If we increased the fees, we'd drive people out of business, or underground, and lose even more revenue."

"What about taxes?"

Shacklebolt spread his hands in a gesture that reminded Ron of Dumbledore. "We don't have the personnel or the skill to implement a system that would allow us to collect taxes fairly and accurately. And relying on donations would open the door to corruption and patronage."

Hermione wasn't about to admit defeat. "You could tax properties. Thanks to the Floo Network, most homes are registered at the Ministry."

"The Wizengamot would never go for it."

Hermione scoffed. "Because most of the members own the largest manors?"

Shacklebolt inclined his head. "In the worst case, they would implement a flat tax per property, which would barely dent their fortunes, but might drive others into ruin." He smiled, although ruefully. "I'm afraid that reforming Azkaban won't be possible until Britain has fully recovered from the war."

Hermione made a sound like a suppressed huff. "I refuse to accept that."

"If you can find a way, I'll see that it's implemented at once," the Minister said with a hint of condescension.

"I'll hold you to that," Hermione snapped back.

"Of course. Now, please excuse me - it seems the Prussian ambassador would like to talk to me. About an incident in Berlin, I believe."

As soon as the Minister had left and Hermione had cast a new privacy charm, she huffed loudly. "The arrogance of that man!"

"Well," Ron said, "he did seem to be convinced that reforming Azkaban was impossible." She glared at him for that, but he had weathered worse. "I don't know if he's telling the truth."

"He probably thinks he's telling the truth. But if seven years hasn't been enough for the 'economy' to 'recover', no number of years will be enough. There'll always be something more important than the prisoners, something the country needs more than a humane prison." She scoffed and clenched her teeth again.

"Do you have an idea how to change that?" he asked.

"Not yet. But I refuse to accept that it cannot be done for economic reasons."

He had to chuckle at that, and when she frowned at him, he shook his head. "Oh, you reminded me of Luna when she went to uni."

Her eyes widened, and she started to smile. "You're right! I'll need to talk to Luna - both of them - about this!"

Great.

Another wizard approached them - well, Hermione; Ron was under no illusion that the wizard actually desired to talk to him - before he could ask what she meant.

"Miss Granger!"

"Mr Doge!"

"Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. HAPPY NEW YEAR!" Ron yelled together with everyone else as the giant clock hit midnight. He turned to kiss Hermione when the first firework went off, and a huge glowing green dog filled the air above them for a second before exploding into sparks.

He blinked. The Atrium wasn't that… "They extended it?"

"Yes," Hermione told him. "Impressive, isn't it?"

Very impressive. To extend the room until you could have an indoor fireworks show…

Dozens of small rockets flew up from… somewhere… and turned into small balls with fluttering wings. Snitches, he remembered. The crowd cheered as brooms made of smoke and light chased after them before a giant starburst wiped it all away, followed by another rocket forming a giant dragon with spread wings. Moving wings.

Ron slowly shook his head as more and more impossible figures and shapes appeared in the artificial sky.

"Fred and George have gone all-out," Hermione said into his ear.

This was the work of the twins? He should've filmed it; the faces his brothers would make if they saw this…

He smiled widely as the fireworks continued, one arm around Hermione's shoulders. Magic was marvellous.

Things started to slow down after midnight, though. There wasn't a massive exodus, but the crowd was steadily growing thinner. Unlike the parties Ron was used to, though, the buffet was still full - of course, if a single spell could refill a bowl or glass, that wasn't a big achievement.

Not that Ron minded - the food was excellent, after all. Neither did he mind that more and more people were leaving - it wasn't as if they were interested in talking to him, was it?

"Hey. Great party, hm?"

With the possible exception of his counterpart, Ron amended his thoughts as wizarding Ron and wizarding Lavender sat down on quickly conjured seats next to Hermione and himself.

"Well, it's pretty much a Weasley party, isn't it?" Hermione told them with a smile. "Molly for the food, the twins for entertainment and I bet Percy organised it."

"Some of the food. The best of the food," wizarding Ron corrected her. "And Dad helped organise it." He seemed proud, though.

"The fireworks were great," Ron told him.

"Oh, yes. Too bad they can't be used in many places," his counterpart said, "or they'd endanger the Statute of Secrecy. I keep telling them to produce fireworks with Muggle-Repelling Charms so they'll get ignored by muggles, but they won't listen."

That would have been a fine mess, Ron thought. Staring at the sky and not seeing anything? He'd have been the laughing stock of the party. "What about indoor variants that automatically extend the ceiling?" he asked.

"Oh, that's a new one. That might work. But it's probably too expensive - Extension Charms of that quality are fiendishly difficult to cast." His counterpart shook his head. "And if something goes wrong… can you imagine the complaints?"

"Fred and George might find it hilarious," wizarding Lavender said with a frown.

"Angelina wouldn't be amused, though," wizarding Ron retorted.

"Speaking of fiends," Hermione spoke up, "I had a lively discussion with the Minister about Dementors. He remains convinced it's not worth the money to get rid of them."

Ron didn't miss how his counterpart winced. "He's the Minister."

"And that means? His word makes it fact?" Hermione scoffed.

"I don't know all the details, but I've seen the rough numbers. We're still recovering." Wizarding Ron looked around. "We joke about this being the Weasleys' New Year's Party, but the fact is that we - my family - have been organising this party since the end of the war. No one else has tried to take over, or ask for a turn or whatever."

"They might be afraid to step on your toes," Hermione pointed out.

Ron's counterpart snorted. "For seven years?" He shook his head. "Things still aren't back to normal."

"Diagon Alley looked fine to me," Hermione said. "As did Hogsmeade."

"The number of shops is the same," the wizard told her, "but a lot of people died in the war. Fewer people means less gold."

Ron was sure that was a direct quote from this world's Percy.

"That Britain held the Quidditch World Cup and the Triwizard Tournament in the year before the war didn't help," wizarding Lavender added.

"Used up a lot of the reserves," Ron's counterpart agreed as he flicked his wand and summoned a slice of cake.

"Ron!"

Ron jerked before he realised wizarding Lavender had been addressing his counterpart.

"Oh, come on! I'll work it off tomorrow - we've got a pratol."

He was tempted to tell his counterpart that the calories didn't work like that, but refrained from doing so - perhaps an Auror patrol was really physically demanding.

"I understand that times might be lean," Hermione said, and her expression told Ron that she didn't think that was the case, "but after my talk with him today, I cannot help fearing that there'll always be something or someone who needs the money more urgently, at least in the opinion of the Ministry, than Azkaban."

"Well, it's hard to drum up support for helping the kind of prisoners that the Dementors guard," wizarding Ron said. "Why would anyone care about dark wizards, other than their families?"

"Most of the families of such prisoners have cut contact with them," wizarding Lavender added. "And, honestly, Hermione, if I have to choose, I'd rather have one more Healer at St Mungo's than one more guard in Azkaban." The witch raised her chin with a defiant expression.

"That's a false equivalency," Hermione protested.

"But it's a real one," wizarding Ron retorted. "I don't like it, but I'd rather have more Aurors than more prison guards if I had to choose."

"But if everyone cares more about a specific thing, Azkaban will never change. What if you send an innocent person there?" Hermione shook her head.

"We've got Veritaserum."

"That's not infallible: Not when you can erase and modify memories," Hermione countered.

"You can spot most altered memories," her friend replied.

She pressed her lips together in obvious frustration. "It's still not right. Torture is inhumane. And what about the prisoners who are driven mad by it?"

"What about the victims of a criminal who escaped from prison?"

"And what about the victims of Dementors who strayed from the prison?"

Before wizarding Ron could reply, his wife spoke up: "I think we should go fetch the kids now. We can't leave them with Dobby and Hagrid for the whole night."

"They've done it before, haven't they?" wizarding Ron asked. After a glare from the witch, he suddenly nodded. "Right. Let's relieve the two of them."

The village was eerily silent. No cars were running, no lawnmowers working. The only things that moved were the plants and debris when the wind hit them. She saw no animals, dead or alive - they must have fled long ago. Fled from something invisible, yet deadly.

They had been smarter than the humans. She saw plenty of humans - dead on the ground. Muggles. They couldn't even see Dementors - and if they could, they had no defence against them. Running or boarding up their houses and waiting for help to arrive were their only options.

The people in the little Scottish village hadn't managed either. The monsters must have come in the night - most of the cars were still around, meaning the commuters hadn't been up and leaving for work. She passed a house with a body on the front steps and another behind it, in the hallway. The door to the next house was open as well, but she saw no bodies outside. But a large car was parked in front of the house - with a child seat on the back seat.

She closed her eyes for a moment and struggled not to cry.

But Dementors couldn't break through doors, certainly not sturdy ones like the old houses here had, she reminded herself. And there was no chance that everyone had opened their doors, or left them open, at the same time.

No. Someone had been here with the monsters, opening doors with magic. And offering people to the Dementors. She sniffled, then shook her head.

If she ever found out who had done this, she'd feed them to the Dementors.

Shuddering, she flicked her wand and apparated back to her friends. She hoped they would have better news.