A week had passed since the arrest of Macnair. Harry and his new team had cleaned out the man's home and office looking for any incriminating evidence. What they found was nothing short of astonishing.

Harry looked over his list before speaking. "Minister, we have more than we bargained for here. Macnair wasn't just involved in trafficking of witches and drugs, but of muggle women as well. The idiot kept a log of all the women and who he'd sold them to. Same with the drugs. Looks like he was also paying off some judges and prosecutors." Harry took a drink of water before continuing, "He also had a list of Death Eaters and their supporters that are still active in the UK and the mainland. By my estimates, we can use this information to close nearly three dozen open cases. Including one that has been open since the early 80s."

Kingsley sat back in his chair and sighed. "How much can we tie him to in the muggle system?"

"If they can convict him? He'll get life in the UK. Spain, France, and Portugal will also want some blood from him. We have enough to warrant taking his memories and magic."

"Damn good job. I was beginning to worry about you. I thought I'd given you too much leeway by giving you so long to search for Hermione. I even had others tell me I had gone too far. I'm glad to see my faith wasn't misplaced. So, now what?"

Harry grinned, "Now I go visit Hermione and try to giver her life back to her."

"If she doesn't want it?"

"I'll have to either let her go or try to get to know the new Hermione."

"I don't relish being in your shoes, Harry. Good luck."

Harry nodded and turned to leave the office. "Shack?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for everything. I'll keep you more in the loop from now on."

Harry found himself standing outside the convent that Hermione had been living in for two years. He was having a hard time not rushing the building and shouting for Hermione. As it was, he found himself standing before two heavy wooden doors with iron hinges. Inset on the right door was a square door viewer with an iron guard. A small sign asking visitors to knock loudly also adorned this door.

He had knocked. And waited. It had seemed like an eternity had passed, when an older nun had opened the viewer. "May I help you sir?"

Harry swallowed and held up a picture. "My name is Harry Potter. I am with the NCA's Missing Persons Bureau. I am searching for this young woman and my contact at the local police office, Constable Lisa Sawley, told me she might be here. I understand she may have lost her memories of who she was or, is."

The elderly nun looked at the photo carefully, "I do believe that young woman is our dear Francis. She came to us two years ago with no memories. Why are you just now coming around? Her image and fingerprints were circulated when she was found."

"There was a cover up. The Superintendent was involved, and he suppressed all information and even blocked my investigation for a time. It wasn't until Miss Sawley contacted a friend of mine that the dots were connected. We had to make our case against the Superintendent before I could come to see you about your Francis."

The sister closed the viewer door and opened the main door. "You understand, Detective Potter, we cannot allow you meet her alone? We have very strict rules about men in a convent."

"Yes, ma'am. I was hoping you could arrange for me to meet her in the garden or some other open area. I do not wish for her to feel threatened or to insult your order. I just want to reunite her with family and friends and hopefully allow her to get her memories back."

"And if she doesn't wish to see you or wishes to remain after you meet with her?"

"That is entirely her choice, ma'am."

"I am Sister Anne. I count Francis as a very good friend. She has been a blessing to us and none of us want to see her harmed." Looking at the photo Harry was still holding, she said, "If you'll hand me the photo, I'll speak with her and the Mother Abbess."

"Thank you, Sister Anne." Harry handed her the photo carefully.

Sister Anne paid notice of this. "You knew her, didn't you? How well?"

Harry blushed a bit. "We became friends at school. I was eleven and she was twelve. We were the best of friends. Later she and I traveled together. She even lived with me in the house I inherited." Harry coughed, "Separate rooms of course."

With a raised eyebrow, Sister Anne asked, "Your choice or hers?"

"Both. I didn't want to chase her away. I had kept her at arms-length for so long, to protect her, that I didn't want to try for a closer relationship once it was safer. I loved her for so long and never told her. I nearly died when she went missing. I realized that she was my conscience and without her, I was far too willing to throw myself into danger."

Sister Anne smiled. "I know who you are Mr. Potter. You know that sisters often take on new names to represent the change away from the world? Anne was not my birth name, and I am not totally ignorant of your history. I changed your nappies a few times as well."

Harry's face ran through several emotions before he prepared to draw his wand. "If you know of me, how do you not know about Hermione?"

"Oh, I knew the name, just not what she looked like. I was born Marlene McKinnon. I was a good friend to your mother and once… Well, that part is better left unsaid. I was supposed to be there when you were born. Just before your parents were killed, my family was wiped out. I almost died that night. I was too scared to call for help and I ran. I hid in Wales until it was over, and you had won... and lost. I hid in a barn until the farmer and his wife took me in and helped me heal. A few years later, I ended up here. I had renounced that life and taken my vow to serve God. I heard nothing else of that world until he escaped and then that he had died. I couldn't believe it."

"You're Sirius' Marlene?"

"Not his," she spat. "He turned on us…"

"No, he didn't," Harry cut her off. "It was Pettigrew. Sirius was innocent. Losing my parents and then going to prison… It broke him. Even though he escaped and even helped me several times, he would never be the man you knew. I'm sorry, I don't mean to hurt you in any way."

Sister Anne was crying. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Pettigrew admitted it to me, Hermione, Sirius and Remus."

Covering her mouth, Sister Anne sobbed. "Mooney? Is he?"

Harry nodded, "Gone in the final battle with his wife, Nymphadora Tonks."

Sister Anne smiled at that. "She hated that name."

For the next thirty minutes they sat on the front step and talked about what had happened to those she knew. She thanked Harry and asked if she could write to him from time to time. "I may have moved on from that life, but there is no reason for me to stay away now. My faith is strong enough that I can trust in God to keep me from returning."

Harry agreed and gave her the postal address he used in the muggle world. He stood and thanked her for her time and asked if he could return later after she'd had time to talk to the Mother Abbess and Hermione.

Sister Anne agreed to ask. "Give me a few hours."

Once Harry had left, Sister Anne returned to her room. She stared at an old photo of her family and then at another of the Order of the Phoenix. Running her fingers over the images of Sirius and the Potters, she smiled through her tears. Years of being away from magic had stilled the photos. Harry's arrival seemed to have given them some small charge of life. She resolved to do what she could to help him and his love.

She walked out of the main building across the parking lot to the small cottage used by visitors. She quietly stepped inside and spied the young woman she had come for.

"Francis, I need to speak with you," said Sister Anne.

"Yes, sister?"