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

Chapter 61: The School

Greenwich, London, Britain, Wizarding World, February 16th, 2006

"Bad dream?" Ron asked when he noticed that Hermione was awake. It was a bit after eight - late for the two of them. In Scotland, they'd have already eaten breakfast and would be returning from their morning run around the Black Lake.

She shook her head, her wild mane obscuring her face for a moment as it whipped round her face. "No. Just… old memories."

War memories, then - as he had suspected. He knew the expression she usually wore when thinking of the war.

"Why do you ask?" She turned her head to look at him.

"You were tossing and turning in your sleep," he told her.

She blushed. "Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault." And it wasn't as if she'd hurt him. He reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "Hey," he added after a moment, to break the sombre mood, "do you think someone's going to call us immoral?"

"Immoral?" She blinked.

"Well, technically, you're my employer. Or you'll be my employer. And we're sleeping together, despite the power imbalance."

She chuckled. "Technically, I'm employing your firm. And I don't think it matters if you started your relationship before the business relationship."

"Ah, right. But that reminds me: We'll have to found a firm for this." More paperwork. Ron had hoped he would have fewer, not more, forms to fill out when he left the police.

"Good idea," Hermione agreed. "That will make it neater for the government. And make it harder for anyone to put pressure on you thanks to the limited liability."

"Well, no one should attempt that, once you've cast your charm," he replied.

She sighed. "I really should get back to work as soon as possible. The longer I take, the greater the risk of someone making a move. Putin... or our own government. Maybe even the US, if someone in the government told them about my supposed new technology."

"Well, if they did leak the intel, they'll be in hot water once that's revealed as a cover." At the very least, the Americans would consider them compromised. They might even take revenge of some sort for, supposedly, having been played for fools.

"We can only hope that it works."

She had sounded far more confident in the discussions with the others, Ron noted. And while her doubts were cause for some concern, it was also nice to see her voice her doubts and open up to him.

"Worst case, we pack up and move to your world before looking for a world without Weasleys or Grangers. Or settle in your world. It wouldn't be ideal, but it wouldn't be the end of the world. Except, perhaps, for Percy."

She snorted, then shook her head. "Really, Ron! The consequences of my potential failure for your family are hardly amusing!"

He laughed, even though she was obviously concerned. "You're right. But it wouldn't be the end of the world."

"Unless Rosengarten is validated by my opening a portal to hell or a similarly dangerous place," she said, sounding gloomy again.

"Hell? Do you mean a world full of lava, or the other place?"

"Both could be possible - well, reasonable facsimiles, at least."

"Hell's real?"

"No. I mean, no one - no wizard or witch - has found such a place. Or, if they have, returned to tell the tale. But magic certainly has the potential to create a place that would be indistinguishable from Hell as most people think of it," she explained. "And the existence of souls, at least, has been proven."

"I know." Tales of souls being split or devoured pretty much implied that. "But Hell?"

"No one knows what the afterlife looks like - or if there's one at all. Ghosts are the imprints left behind in death, not the souls of dead people returned. There was supposedly a magical stone that could summon the souls of the dead, but no one, ever, saw it being used - or if they did and it worked, they didn't bother to ask that question. And, well - that's pretty much the most obvious question anyone would ask a soul visiting from the afterlife, so I am inclined to assume that the Resurrection Stone, as it was called, doesn't actually exist. Or doesn't do what the myth claims."

"Ah." That was, in a way, quite reassuring. Wizards and witches didn't have an advantage there, at least. They would be facing death with the same ignorance and uncertainty as muggles such as Ron himself.

Not that he planned on dying anytime soon, of course.

Hogwarts, Wizarding World, February 17th, 2006

Hagrid was the tallest man Ron had ever seen. He made André the Giant look small. And scrawny. The wooden hut had seemed tall and imposing, its door as tall as a gate, but with the man standing in front of it, it looked almost tiny in comparison.

"Hermione!" And his voice matched his stature. Not quite as loud as a gunshot, but it came close. "So glad ter finally see yeh. Again, I mean!"

"Hello, Hagrid," Hermione replied with a smile - and a slightly guilty expression, Ron noted. "This is Ronald, my boyfriend. He's related to the Weasleys."

"Right! The muggle Weasley!" The man stuck his hand out towards Ron.

"Yes. Pleased to meet you." Seeing no way to refuse without appearing rude, Ron took the man's hand. And winced when Hagrid squeezed like a vice. "Hermione told me a lot about you."

"She did?" Hagrid beamed at both of them. "We've bin friends for years - since she started at Hogwarts! Helped me a lot, she did, with all sorts o' problems. Got into a lot o' trouble, too, though!" The giant - half-giant, according to Hemione - chuckled. Ron was almost sure he felt the rumbling sound in his solar plexus.

"I'm sorry, I should've visited sooner, but…" She shrugged. "When I recovered my memories, I had to deal with my parents, Harry and Ron, the Ministry…"

"Oh, don't worry about it - we've all heard about the commotion yer return made." Hagrid grinned. "I've babysat the li'l ones a few times so Harry an' Ron could go meet yeh. But come in, please! I've got cakes an' tea an' sandwiches! Not rock cakes, though - the kids can' eat 'em yet, so I've bin makin' softer cakes. Not as crunchy, bu' the kids like 'em."

Ron saw Hermione sigh with relief as soon as Hagrid turned his back. Ron, shaking his hand to get the feeling back in it - if anyone attacked just then, he wouldn't be able to hold, much less fire, his gun - was relieved as well. Hermione had warned him three times about those cakes. With drastic examples of the damage they did to teeth.

The inside of the hut was neater than Hermione had described it. Far neater and cosier.

"Did you redecorate?" Hermione asked as they took their seats at a table that was a little too tall for them.

"Yeh noticed?" The giant beamed at them. "Ever since I got me wand back, after the war, I've bin remodellin' a little. It's so much easier with a wand." As if to underline his words, he pulled out a large baton, waved it and the stove in the corner lit up. "Tea'll be ready soon."

"You got your wand back?" Hermione's face lit up. "That's great news!"

"Yeh didn' know? Yes, Harry an' Ron pushed fer a retrial. Wizengamot took a year, but finally decided tha' I was innocent, so I got me wand back. Well, a new wand, me old one was broken." He glanced to the side, where a huge umbrella was sticking out of what looked like… not the stump of an elephant's foot, but…

"Is that a troll leg?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. It's from Harry's place. He said he didn' want it any more. Reminded him o' Tonks, yeh know."

And there went the good mood. Hermione nodded with a sad expression. "She always stumbled over it."

"Yes. He wanted ter destroy it, bu'…" Hagrid shrugged, causing his chair to creak loudly. "Wouldn' have been right ter throw everything away. And it's a perfec'ly fine umbrella stand. Don' make 'em like tha' any more."

With good reason - the thing was hideous and stood out in the otherwise nice room.

"So, I've also heard you're teaching again," Hermione said after a moment.

"Yes!" The half-giant smiled, showing large teeth. "With the war over, I returned ter teachin'. And with the Ministry's changes, I can teach the tykes about all the interestin' creatures I can get!"

"That's great," Hermione lied.

"Isn' it? Last year I had a baby wyvern as a class project - still visits me from time ter time; she's livin' in the Forest. I should organise a mate fer her in a year or so, when she's mature."

How big was an adult wyvern? Judging by Hermione's forced smile, very big. "Speaking of creatures, are you also breeding new creatures?" she asked anyway.

"Tha's illegal!" Hagrid replied.

"Unless you've got permission from the Ministry," Hermione pointed out.

"I've asked, bu' they didn' grant me permission - I wanted ter cross the wyvern with a fire salamander. Would've bin like a cute tiny dragon. Ah, here's the tea!" he said as the tea kettle started whistling.

As the tea was served - with a huge cake that looked and smelled delicious - Hermione leaned forward. "I've heard it's very difficult to cross species that are of very different sizes."

"Oh, yes. There's a trick ter it, yeh know." Hagrid nodded.

"Really?" This time, Hermione didn't have to fake her smile, Ron noticed. "Could you tell me more?"

"...and tha's how yeh cross-breed creatures of wildly diff'rent sizes. Me Da taught me tha', in case I ever fell in love with a giant."

"I see…" Hermione slowly nodded as she finished taking notes. "That was very informative, Hagrid. Thank you."

A little too informative, in Ron's opinion. He could've done without knowing so many details about the sexuality of giants. Or Manticores. He nodded anyway - Hagrid was what would be called a 'gentle soul' in some books. And a 'mad scientist' in others.

"Bu' remember: It's illegal ter breed a new creature without permission from the Ministry!"

"I assure you, I won't break that law," Hermione replied.

"Good. Yeh don' wan' ter go ter Azkaban. Trust me, yeh really don' wan' ter." The half-giant shuddered.

"Yes. That the Ministry is still using Dementors is a disgrace!" Hermione spat. "They should've destroyed those abominations long ago!"

"Can' kill 'em, Hermione. They aren' really alive. Not like creatures - normal creatures, I mean."

"Alive or not, everything can be destroyed. Even spells," Hermione replied.

"Not Dementors! We tried everything in the war. Everything!" Hagrid shook his head, his huge hands gripping his stone mug so tightly, Ron thought he heard it creak.

"What about drowning?" Ron asked.

"They don' breathe."

"But they don't swim, either," Hermione retorted. "I know that. They can't glide over water - they went around when…"

"Jus' because they don' like water doesn' mean it hurts 'em," Hagrid told her. "Like bathing a cat won' kill it."

"Even though the attempt might kill you," Ron said, forcing himself to chuckle despite his disappointment. He had been quite proud that he had thought of something wizards had missed. Or at least had helped think of a way to kill Dementors.

"Well, water still serves to contain them," Hermione replied. Slowly, her lips twisted into a nasty grin.

"Let's talk abou' something else," Hagrid said, shuddering again. "I still need ter give yeh the tour!" He downed a full cup of hot tea in one gulp, then stood. "Let's go!"

Definitely a mad scientist, Ron thought half an hour and four far too close encounters with dangerous creatures later: a wyvern, Fire Crabs, Hippogriffs and even those flying horses fed on fresh meat which looked like undead demons. He could handle them, though. All of them. But visiting the Acromantula colony? An entire colony of car-sized intelligent spiders who were known to hunt humans? He had bowed out of that. Firmly and quickly. After his encounter with a giant spider in Albania, the last thing he wanted was to meet intelligent magical giant spiders.

But Hermione had gone with Hagrid, which left Ron cooling his heels by Hagrid's hut. And looking at Hogwarts. Now that he was inside the Muggle-Repelling Charms, he could see the real castle instead of some ruins.

And it was a magical castle, indeed. Disney would be jealous of the many turrets and the way it looked both real and yet magical. Or that might be his imagination taking liberties. Either way, it was a great sight. The walls, the gate, the greenhouses at the edge of the yard, the students on brooms… Oh. They had spotted him - they were flying towards him.

"Mr Weasley!" the first witch yelled as she jumped off the broom a few yards above the ground. "What are you doing here?"

She looked as young as she sounded - at most fourteen, Ron would guess. The broom slowly floated down, and she grabbed it without looking at it.

"Duh! You're visiting Hagrid, aren't you?" another witch, about the same age, said as she landed on the ground and dismounted.

"Yes, we are," Ron replied as two more teenagers - wizards this time - descended. All of them had red and gold badges - Gryffindor, then.

"'We'?"

"I'm here with Hermione," he told them.

"Oh! She's here?" the first witch blurted out with a gasp. "Hermione Granger?"

Ron nodded. "They're visiting the Acromantula colony." He noted with some satisfaction that all four kids shuddered at the news.

"Oh. Why aren't you wearing your Auror robes?" The apparent spokeswitch asked.

"Because he isn't on duty, duh!" her friend said.

He smiled at them. "Actually, it's because I'm not an Auror. I'm the muggle Ron Weasley."

"Oh!" The first witch blushed. "We should've noticed - I mean, we shouldn't have assumed that just because you're here, you'd be a wizard."

"Yes, since we know Miss Granger is living with a muggle. I mean, with you," the second girl added. "I'm Hyacinth, by the way. Hyacinth Moon."

"Claire Smith!" the first witch introduced herself. "But not from the wizarding family - I'm a muggleborn!"

"James Nott. Very distantly related to those Notts."

"Brian Wilbury." The boy nodded at Ron, then cocked his head. "So, what are you doing here? I mean, apart from waiting for Miss Granger and Professor Hagrid."

"We're visiting Hagrid. Since he was always babysitting, Hermione hadn't seen him yet."

"Oh!"

Claire took a step closer. "So what do you think of magic? Was it a shock when you found out? When Miss Granger recovered her memories?"

"Well, I like magic, but it was a shock." He had been dying, after all, when Hermione had revealed magic. "But it all worked out."

So far.

"Nice! My parents were shocked for a week after McGonagall visited! She turned the table into a pony - Mum wanted to sell it afterwards."

"How did Miss Granger show magic to you? I thought she didn't have a wand, did she?" Claire would've made a good interrogator.

"That was after she got a new wand," Ron lied.

"Oh. Where did she get a new wand? Did she visit Ollivander's?"

Ron was starting to feel like he was being interrogated. "Ah, you'll have to ask her that yourself," he said. Best to change the subject before he was caught in a lie - he didn't think Hermione would want others to know about her cache. Especially not if that might set off a search for other such caches amongst Hogwarts students. "So… you're in Gryffindor?"

"Yes!"

"Like Harry Potter!" Hyacinth added.

"Ah." Ron nodded. "The best house, hmm?"

"Of course!" Claire nodded fervently. The other kids agreed.

"Were you playing Quidditch?"

"Ah… no. We were just flying around. It's fun," James said.

"Have you ever flown on a broom?" Claire asked.

"Dummy! He's a muggle!" Hyacinth scoffed.

"Yet I have flown on a broom," Ron informed them. "Although it wasn't a fast one - nor did it go as fast as it could go. Just for fun, too." Technically, he'd flown a broom in combat, if you counted Moscow, but that had to stay secret as well.

"Oh! What kind of broom was it?" James asked.

"Quidditch fanatic," Ron heard Hyacinth mutter.

"It belonged to the Weasleys," he told them. "I didn't really pay attention to the brand," he added with a smile.

James looked shocked. "You didn't care about the type?"

"As long as it flew?" Ron shrugged.

The kid glared at him as if Ron had just admitted to a crime. No, these were Gryffindors - they probably would've been less shocked by a crime.

But Claire used the sudden, sullen silence from James to step forward again and take over. "So, what do you think of Hogwarts?"

"I haven't seen anything of the school, yet," he admitted. "We came straight to Hagrid's hut."

"We can give you a tour! We know the castle inside and out!" the girl eagerly offered.

Alone with four wizarding kids? Yeah, right. Contrary to what some people claimed, Ron had enough common sense to politely refuse the offer. "I'd like to, but Hermione should be back soon. I'll wait for her and Hagrid to return."

"Aw."

"Can we wait with you?" Brian asked. "Talking to a muggle would really help with Muggle Studies."

James was still glaring, but Claire nodded emphatically. "Yes!"

"You're a muggleborn." Hyacinth huffed. "This should be old news for you!"

Claire shrugged. "So? He's from another generation; everyone knows things were different back then."

Ron pressed his lips together. He wasn't old. But they were kids - dumb kids who didn't know any better. So he smiled. "Shoot."

"What?"

"He means, start asking questions," Claire explained. "It's something older muggles say."

Fortunately, the questions Brian asked - he seemed honestly interested in learning about muggles - were unproblematic, and Ron ignored or deflected the more daring questions from Claire and James's snide comments. And then Hermione and Hagrid returned, and the kids' attention switched to them at once.

"Miss Granger! Professor Hagrid!"

"You look like your portrait! Only older!"

Ron grinned at Hermione's expression at hearing Claire's blurted-out greeting. "These are Claire, Hyacinth, James and Brian," he introduced the students. "Gryffindors."

"I can see that," she told him before nodding at the children. "Hello, everyone."

"What are yeh doin' here?" Hagrid spoke up. "Are yeh here fer the feedin'?"

"Feeding?" Brain asked.

"No, we just saw Mr Weasley standing here and flew over to see what he was doing," James explained - he had dropped his attitude quite quickly once Hermione and Hagrid had arrived, Ron noted.

"Oh. Well, we've already fed the Thestrals, anyway," Hagrid said. "Though yeh probably can' see 'em anyway," he added with a smile. "So yeh'd jus' see the meat gettin' devoured."

"They look nice," Hermione said. "And you can pet them."

"Nice?" Claire blinked.

"Like undead horses with bats' wings," Ron explained.

"Ah."

Hermione was frowning at him, so Ron smiled widely. "So, what about a tour of the school?"

"Oh, yes!" Brian said, nodding rapidly. "We can show you everything!"

"You dummy!" Hyacinth muttered. "This is Hermione Granger! She knows Hogwarts!"

"And her portrait is at Hogwarts, too!" James added.

Hermione winced again.

The tour was very impressive - and a little exhausting. The castle didn't have a single lift, and the stairs had a tendency to move and divert you if you didn't pay attention - or so Hermione explained. At least wizards and witches couldn't apparate inside the castle, either.

"There you are!"

He turned his head and saw Hermione's portrait waving at them from what was actually a picture of a Scottish landscape with a rather annoyed-looking shepherd in the background.

"Hello! I've been looking for you ever since the Headmistress informed me of your presence!"

"Hello," Ron replied.

Hermione nodded. "We're on our way to see the Headmistress."

"You weren't in the library. Why not? It's the best place in Hogwarts! I spend hours there just looking at the books. If I could actually read them, I'd never leave!" the portrait told them.

Hermione sighed. "The library is nice, but we didn't come to Hogwarts for the library. Not today, at least."

The portrait made a gasping noise. "What could be more important than the library? Merlin's beard! Is there a new crisis? Are the students in danger?"

"No, no, we're just here to visit," Ron quickly told it.

The portrait looked confused. "Really? And you skipped the library? Are you sure you're not sick?"

Ron saw Hermione press her lips together and clench her teeth. "I really need to have another word with my friends about my portrait."

The Headmistress's office was quite different from Hermione's descriptions of her Dumbledore's office. There were no shelves full of mysterious knick-knacks, no stand with a moulting phoenix, no selection of sweets 'that rivalled Honeydukes'. And no bookshelves with an eclectic mix of forbidden tomes and trivial, even muggle, books.

No, the Headmistress's office was plain. Very plain. The only decor was the many portraits of former Headmasters and a broom mounted on the wall. While the shelves were filled with books, they were organised like in a library, down to the small tag with a code on each book's spine. The desk was spacious and elegant - but clear of anything but parchment and a quill.

All in all, it looked rather mundane. Not too different from the Headmaster's office in his old school. Which he had visited often enough to remember perfectly, for a variety of reasons, mostly good ones.

Though the portraits in that office hadn't moved, of course. And there certainly hadn't been a moving portrait of a teenage girl with wild hair that was cheerfully using her elbows to push the other portraits out of her way so she could have the best view of the office.

And the Headmaster of Ron's old boarding school had never smiled at him like McGonagall smiled at Hermione.

"Miss Granger! I'm so happy to see you at Hogwarts!" She nodded at Ron. "Mr Weasley."

Old man Madison had, however, smiled like that at parents and alumni, hoping to secure donations, Ron remembered.

"I'm very happy to be here, Professor," Hermione replied. "I mean, Headmistress."

"Ah, I still think of myself as a professor." The old witch sighed. "And I keep expecting Albus to step into the office and ask me what I'm doing here."

Ron nodded and wondered, privately, how McGonagall would react to meeting his world's Dumbledore. "It looks like you're doing well," he said. "The tour of the school was very impressive."

"But Minerva!" the portrait chose that moment to butt in, "Hermione didn't stay in the library! Something's wrong!"

McGonagall smiled, clearly amused, as Hermione frowned. "I love books, but I don't love them to the point of spending most of my time in a library," she told the portrait.

"Why not? You can read books! All the books you could want! I can't read the books - not even painted ones," it complained. "I need someone to turn the pages for me, or at least cast a page-turning spell on a book in front of my painting."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You can't read painted books? Of course you can't; they're empty. Oh, that's really bad." She frowned. "And you were told to spend all your free time in a library?"

"Yes?"

"I really need to talk to Harry and Ron about what they taught you," she said with a scowl.

"They meant well, Miss Granger," McGonagall interjected. "And they were in mourning."

"Still! It's been seven years." Hermione shook her head. "They didn't even think about… this problem?" She looked at the portrait. "We have to talk."

"Yes!"

"Not right now, though."

The portrait made a sound of disappointment, and its expression was the same as Hermione's when she was denied something she really wanted.

Ron knew better than to point that out, of course. McGonagall was already looking at them a little strangely - as if she was wary.

Hermione sighed. "I'm not about to start a campaign for portraits' rights, Professor. I'm fully aware that they aren't truly sapient."

"Hey! That's discrimination!" the portrait protested.

"Even though some might have been taught to dispute that," Hermione went on. "Still, as one of the few witches whose portrait was awakened despite me still being alive, I feel I'm in the unique position to argue that how a portrait is treated reflects on the reputation of the witch or wizard depicted."

"Ah, I see. You will argue that a portrait treated with negligence or ridicule is an attack on the depicted's honour."

"More or less, yes."

"What? Who's attacking me?" the portrait asked.

"No one," Hermione said. "But you should be treated better."

"Of course, since I'm you!"

"No, you aren't," Hermione mumbled.

"Now, I don't assume you visited merely to talk to your portrait, Miss Granger," McGonagall commented after a moment.

"I wanted to visit Hagrid - I've missed him on several occasions since he was babysitting for my friends. However, apart from that and showing Ron my old school, I'd also like to ask if I could peruse the library for a research project."

"Of course you can, Miss Granger." McGonagall smiled. "After all, I still expect you to take your N.E.W.T.s. Whatever employment options you're pursuing, be it research, a position at the Ministry, politics or teaching, you'll need your N.E.W.T.s."

Ron noticed how the woman smiled when she mentioned teaching. So that was McGonagall's angle - she was trying to recruit Hermione. That would also explain why she was granting her access to the library without asking for any details.

Well, McGonagall had been this world's Dumbledore's right hand, so that was to be expected.

Black Lake, Scotland, February 18th, 2006

"I think McGonagall wants to hire you," Ron said once they were back in their room at the lab.

"Hire me?" Hermione blinked and put down on the bed the notes she had been sorting. "Oh. You think she wants me to become a teacher?"

He shrugged. "Yes."

"She should know me better than that." She shook her head. "I guess that's to be laid at the feet of the portrait - of its education, at least - as well."

"You never tutored students in school?" Ron had a hard time imagining that.

"I helped my friends. And as a prefect, I helped the lower years - and higher years."

"See?" He grinned.

She rolled her eyes in return and grabbed her notes again. "That doesn't make me a teacher. It just means I wasn't the sort of student who only cared about her own grades."

"Well, perhaps she hopes teaching would keep you out of politics?" Ron shrugged again as he tried to make his comment sound casual.

"That's not her style," Hermione said with a frown. "She's no Dumbledore."

"Yours or ours?" He stretched out on the bed, after pushing one of her sheets filled with notes away.

"Either," she replied, her frown deepening.

"She's been Headmistress for seven years," he pointed out.

"Yes. But she's still the same strict teacher I remember. If she wanted to recruit me, she'd ask." Hermione nodded firmly.

Ron didn't quite agree, but it wasn't worth arguing about. As far as plots went, this one was rather harmless.

Unnamed Highlands, Scotland, February 20th, 2006

"Once more into the breach," Ron said as they appeared in the familiar snowy field.

"It's actually 'once more unto the breach'," Hermione said. "And it means to try again, not to literally fight in a breach."

"I like my quote better," he replied with a smile. "It's more dramatic."

She snorted. "I guess so. It's not correct, though."

"Are you sure you don't want to teach?" He smiled at her to take the sting out of his comment.

Judging by her slight frown, he hadn't completely succeeded. "I know I don't want to teach." She sighed. "Teaching my portrait is bad enough, and it is very eager to learn."

"But it's a special case, isn't it?" He shrugged. "If I had to teach a virtual intelligence that thought it was me… well, it's not the same as teaching Ginny how to handle a rifle."

"I think Harry did most of the teaching there."

"He spent more time with her, but I'm not sure if he taught her more," Ron retorted as they walked over to what looked to him like an empty spot at the foot of the hill.

Until a door appeared in the empty air.

"By the way, is the portrait making progress?"

Hermione sighed. "Slowly."

Which meant 'very slowly'.

They stepped inside. "Luna? Luna? We're back with notes from Hagrid!" Hermione called out.

Ron looked around - the warehouse looked like…

"Close the door! Before they escape!"

He shut the door without thinking, then turned, tense. If Luna - either Luina - yelled like that, you couldn't hesitate.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, a dimly glowing shield surrounding her.

"Ah, just a few birds that escaped their cages," Luna said.

"Which proves that we shouldn't put them into cages," wizarding Luna added - she was looking up, not at them, Ron noted.

"It proves that we need better cages," Luna retorted. "It's too dangerous for them, otherwise."

"As long as they can apparate, they can always escape any danger," her counterpart said.

"But they would die in the cold outside," Luna told her.

"Apparate… Merlin's beard!" Hermione exclaimed. "Did you bring Diricawls here?"

"Diricawls?" Ron asked in a whisper.

"Magical birds that can apparate. They look like dodos," she explained.

"Oh." He blinked. "Can they fly?"

"No, just like dodos."

"Why is everyone looking up, then?" he asked.

"Because they can climb," Luna said. "They're smart and know we'd search the floor. There's one!" she pointed at a corner.

Wizarding Luna flicked her wand - and her voice filled the warehouse. "Come to us, little Diricawl. We mean you no harm. Soon, you'll be in your natural habitat - and you'll have all the space to explore you could want!"

Hermione sighed, then waved her own wand. A cage appeared around the bird. A flick of her wand later, it started to float down towards them.

"Hermione! That could traumatise poor Pedro!"

"Of course she would name them," Hermione muttered. "Sorry," she said a little more loudly. "But it's not safe for them to be outside their habitats."

"But they don't know that - they want to be free!"

"They'll live," Hermione said. "And they're safe this way."

Wizarding Luna pouted, but Luna nodded in agreement. "It's just temporary," she said. "We'll be taking them to Mauritius soon."

"Luna," Hermione said, and Ron saw that she was struggling to control herself. "Why are you planning to release magical animals into this world?"

"Because this world's Diricawl died out, of course!"

"They're not the same birds. Dodos weren't magical," Hermione said.

"Well, we can't know that," wizarding Luna replied. "The muggles think they're extinct in our world, too."

"But if they were magical, then they wouldn't have died out."

"Yes." Wizarding Luna nodded.

"Did you check?"

"It's a hypothesis," the witch replied with a pout. "But in any case, there's a missing spot for a bird on Mauritius, and filling it won't hurt anyone!"

"This world isn't set-up to cope with magic," Hermione pointed out.

"Diricawls don't have natural predators in our world, either, so it'll be fine!"

"You can't know that."

"We'll take precautions," Luna said. "Like with the portal."

"But…" Hermione closed her mouth. "Fine," she spat.

Ron didn't comment.

"I guess I can't complain about my own words being turned back against me," Hermione said after they had left the hidden warehouse again.

"But you'll do so anyway," he told her.

She sighed. "There's a difference between exploring the multiverse after taking all reasonable precautions and deliberately introducing a magical species to this world."

She was correct, but… "I'm not sure the dodo will be much of a threat, magical or otherwise," he said.

"Except for their ability to apparate. Imagine what scientists will do once they observe them. And they will - once the first 'dodos' are sighted, everyone will want to capture one to study. And then they'll escape using Apparition."

"Ah." He winced. "But in your world, the zoologists never caught on to that, did they?"

"Thanks to magical interference."

"The precautions Luna mentioned."

"Yes." She spat the word out.

"Best wait until we know what precautions they are taking?"

"Yes."

He suppressed a grin. Hermione might loathe it, but she understood that it would be unfair otherwise.

She sighed. "Let's go back to the lab. I have more research to do."

"How goes the Fidelius Charm research?" he asked as he held out his hand.

"I'm progressing as expected. It's only the exact wording that's left now," she said. "And actually casting the spell - that's a little tricky since you can't exactly cast it repeatedly to practise."

"Ah." Nothing new, then. "I can try to help with the wording." That wasn't magical, after all.

She looked at him, then nodded. "Yes."

Then they disapparated.

Black Lake, Scotland, February 21st, 2006

The wording needed to hide the existence of the portal, but not just a specific portal. And that Hermione was responsible. 'Hermione Granger has found a way to travel to other dimensions'? No, people would still know that she's doing research, and they would connect it to the attacks on her. The attacks themselves couldn't be hidden - far too many knew about them. 'Hermione's research into other dimensions is a valid avenue of research'? No. Too vague. People could still stumble upon the truth.

Ron sighed. This was more difficult than he had expected. Although he should have expected that since Hermione had trouble finding the best wording. Something like 'Hermione Granger, working with Albus Dumbledore's support, has found a way to travel to other dimensions'? No. "Other universes exist, and Hermione Granger found a way to travel to them'?

He scribbled it down, even though it wouldn't work. Perhaps if he used the example Hermione had told him as a base? "There is a secret base in Scotland where Hermione Granger and her friends and allies use her research to travel to other universes'?"

"Not as easy as it seemed, hmm?"

He frowned at Hermione. "I've not yet begun to really work on it."

"Working on mangling quotes?"

"Of course. This is all about wording, isn't it?" He grinned at her surprised expression before it was replaced with a pout. "Hey," he added, "I cut my teeth twisting wishes in roleplaying games."

"That makes me feel so much better," she replied. "Except not."

He chuckled, but before he could comment further, the door opened, and Dumbledore entered the lab. The old man was beaming at them. "I've got good news," he told them. "We've managed to acquire the gold we'll need to pay off the Ministry of Magic."

Behind him, Ron saw Harry and Sirius push a trolley with a rather large chest on it. Oh.

He glanced at Hermione, but she looked distracted.

Ah.

That was a lot of gold. She had heard the stories, so to speak. She had even been told the number of Galleons. But to see so much gold, on the vault's floor, stacks of gold next to heaps of coins… "Can I call you Scrooge McDuck?" she asked, snickering to hide her reaction.

Harry laughed at her feeble joke. "I thought the same when I saw it for the first time."

"'Scrooge McDuck'?" Ron looked confused.

"A comic book character. Richest duck on earth," Harry told him.

"'Richest duck'?"

"It's a comic book series," Hermione told him. "Very famous too. You've never heard of Disney?"

"Oh, the movies!" Her friend nodded. "We saw a few in the village. But I never saw a duck in any of them."

"Ah. That character appears mostly on TV," Harry explained.

"And in comic books," Hermione added. "But enough of that. We're not here to discuss Disney, but to grab enough gold to finance our mission." And provide for various emergencies.

"Hermione!" Ron frowned at her. "It's Harry's gold! You can't just treat it as yours."

She wasn't treating it as hers - but Harry had volunteered the contents of his vault to finance their mission, hadn't he? And they had made a plan and a budget, in advance!

"It's OK," Harry said with a wry grin. "It's not as if I'll be able to use the gold should we fail, will I?"

She exchanged a glance with Ron, who winced, before schooling her features. "Indeed."

Sometimes, Harry's black humour was a little much.