Chapter Twenty-Five
By the seventh, or possibly the eighth, morning Hermione woke up in her cell in Azkaban, she still hadn't gotten used to her new environment. It was likely that she never would no matter how long she was stuck inside the notorious wizarding prison. Such a thing didn't even seem possible. It was a horrible place, much worse than she ever imagined. Even without the dementors that used to guard the prisoners before Kingsley had them permanently exiled it was a nightmare come true.
When she was arrested, she couldn't believe it was actually happening. Sure, she understood there could be some very serious consequences to attacking the Minister for Magic even in self-defense. Kingsley was a convincing enough liar and because there were no witnesses, she was trapped in a classic 'he said, she said' conundrum. Harry promised her again when he escorted her personally to Azkaban that he would get it all sorted out. He'd apologized over and over again for stunning her. Without definitive proof that Kingsley was lying, he had to follow orders. She understood. It had never been her intention to get her oldest friend entangled in her mess with the Minister. She still struggled to come to terms with the fact Kingsley was the one who wanted her dead.
Each day that passed with no news, her spirits sank. Any hope that it was even possible for the truth to get out and she could prevail against the Minister and his lies began to die. No one bothered to update her on what was happening outside of the fortress stuck on an island in the North Sea. She'd been cut off.
There was no adequate way to describe how truly awful Azkaban was. Centuries of dementors left a chill in the stones that bred feelings of hopelessness, fear, madness. It was no wonder why so many inmates went insane during their incarceration. She almost pitied Bellatrix Lestrange. At the very least she understood where the woman's sanity was lost. Everything about the prison was designed to make the prisoners feel isolated and completely alone. The cells were arranged so that prisoners could look out into the corridor outside their cell, but they couldn't look into any other cells. Over a week stuck in the hell on Earth and Hermione still didn't know who was in the nearby cells. She could hear their screams, however. When darkness fell, she could listen to their cries. It was all very dehumanizing.
Azkaban provided nothing but ample time to think. Think and worry. She tried to remain strong, tried to remain calm and hopeful, but she felt she was fighting a losing battle. No one would tell her what her charges were or how long she could be stuck there. She tried to come to terms with the frightening possibility that she would never leave. When she tried, she understood why so many of the other prisoners screamed.
Fenrir was also never far from her mind. One moment he would be the only topic of thought that kept her calm and the next he was the very reason she feared she was already going mad. What was he doing? When she didn't return that morning, what did he think? And surely he was aware by then that she was in Azkaban. Not a single newspaper would've ignored the headline story that war heroine Hermione Granger was arrested for attacking the Minister for Magic. She cringed when she thought about the rumor being spread that she was trying to seduce Kingsley. Fenrir would know it was a lie the instant he heard it, but she knew he would be one of the few. People were more likely to believe a nasty lie than a kind truth.
She hated waking up each morning without him. Hated waking up at all. Sleep was her only escape. Sometimes she was fortunate enough to dream about him and it all felt so very real that when she woke up her heart ached and she wanted to cry. It was difficult to stay asleep very long. A scream would inevitably wake her or the cold would. Her prison-issued clothing wasn't warm enough and her only blanket was too thin. The sounds of frequent coughing echoing through the prison concerned her. How much longer would she be there before she got sick too? Were the ones who died early in their sentences from sickness the lucky ones?
All she wanted was to feel Fenrir's strong arms around her again. With him, she could face anything. The time she wasn't sure she would get to analyze her new patronus form was made available in Azkaban. She laid on her terrible mattress, stared at the stone wall, and came to the conclusion that at some point in the previous several weeks, she'd managed to fall completely and irrevocably in love with Fenrir Greyback. It was a truth that would've made her laugh as much in the past as it made her cry in the present. Was fate really so cruel as to finally show her what real love was then lock her away for the rest of her life?
The sound of her cell door clanging open startled Hermione out of her increasingly depressing thoughts. No one had come to her cell since it was closed in her face the night she was arrested. Unsatisfying meals just simply appeared in her cell like tables in Hogwarts' Great Hall. Fear of the unknown was palpable. She stared at the door, worried that her inconvenient existence was about to be taken care of by one of Kingsley's minions. Or perhaps even Kingsley himself. He did seem to possess an appetite for causing pain. One more personality trait she never expected.
Harry stepped inside. Looking every bit as worried as he had the night he arrested her and twice as exhausted, he crossed the length of the tiny cell to pull her into a tight hug. She tried not to cry, but couldn't help the silent tears. For a long time her friend held her close without speaking. Maybe he didn't know where to start. He'd already apologized to her over and over again when he escorted her to Azkaban. Or maybe he had nothing positive to say and didn't want to add to her burdens. Whichever it was, it was very important to Hermione that he know the truth of what she felt about his role in what happened.
"I want you to know, Harry, that I don't blame you for what you did. I know you didn't have a choice. Not really."
His arms tightened around her and she heard a sob catch in his throat. As much as he might try to remain calm and aloof in his professional life, she knew her Harry. He was torn up about what he was ordered to do.
"I wanted to tell Kingsley 'no', but…"
"He's the Minister and you had orders. I understand. I'm not angry, Harry. Not unless you actually believe what he said about me."
Harry pushed her away to be able to look her directly in the eye. Just as she suspected, unshed tears made his emerald eyes glisten. He seemed frantic, desperate for her to trust him.
"Of course I don't believe him. I didn't believe him for a second. I only arrested you because…"
"Because you had to. You had to think about your family. I understand. I've had a lot of time to think in here. Promise me that you will never ever hesitate between your family or me."
He offered her a half-smile. Even that much was a struggle. She could only imagine how much he'd tortured himself since he stunned her. If she was doomed to spend forever in the same cell, she wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forgive himself for not being able to save her.
"It's not your job to save everyone, Harry Potter. Don't forget that. Kingsley was right when he told me he gave me several chances to stop and save my life. I don't regret it. I'll never regret doing what I know was right."
Gently, he pushed her out of his arms completely. She felt the loss at once. It had been so long without a friendly touch she'd not realized how much she craved it. She could tell by the way he stood up straighter and cleared his face of his worried expression that he was there in an official capacity.
"I'm here to escort you to your trial."
Her stomach sank. All of her worries and fears she'd been trying to ignore for sanity's sake rushed forward to fill up every cell of her brain. Why was it just sprung on her without warning? Shouldn't she have legal representation? Someone with whom she could discuss her case? In her job she'd presented cases several times to the Wizengamot, but never as a defendant.
Harry led her down the corridor to a small, enclosed room. Once inside she was pleasantly surprised to see a shower and a bar of soap. At least she wouldn't be expected to face the court filthy and reeking of Azkaban. Clean robes hung on a peg on the wall.
"Ginny picked something out for you that she thought would fit. Your house is still considered a crime scene. We couldn't get anything of yours."
"Thank you. That's very kind."
He left her alone with an assurance she could take all the time she needed. The trial couldn't start without her after all. Hearing the heavy door close behind her and the lock click loudly in place robbed Hermione of any of the small amount of joy she'd felt about finally being able to clean herself again. How often would she be allowed a shower if she was given a life sentence?
The cold seawater that trickled out of the shower was hardly enjoyable, but she wasn't picky. At least the soap lathered. There was no reason to take her time. The longer she stood naked under the spray, the more freezing and miserable she became. Was this standard procedure for the inmates? Someone needed to reform the prison's practices if so. They were better than that.
Ginny's clothes were hardly a perfect fit, but at least they were clean and she knew the previous wearer. The same couldn't be said for the smelly, threadbare rags she left crumpled in the floor. Ready to leave, but far from ready to attend her trial, she still managed to knock on the door to let Harry know he could open it again.
Arriving at the Ministry with an auror escort like some kind of common criminal was a humiliation Hermione wasn't fully prepared to experience. She'd hoped that they would be able to quietly enter the Ministry and make their way to the courtroom without any fuss or bother. When Harry Side-Along Apparated her to a private entrance she wasn't familiar with, she had some hope they could be discreet. Unfortunately, once they stepped inside the Atrium to approach the lifts, they were spotted.
Just as she suspected, her arrest and trial made for big, exciting news. They had to push through the crowded Atrium. Several aurors, including a serious Iain who didn't seem able to trust himself to look in Hermione's direction, were required to make any progress. Shouts of her name and the near-constant flash of camera bulbs was dizzying and overwhelming. Questions were shouted at her with such a frequency that they all jumbled together and made no sense. Under penalty of death she couldn't have related back a single question correctly. She thought she heard many different accents, but couldn't be certain she could trust her own ears.
The silence of the lift was a comfort. No one was allowed to follow her in. Only Harry kept a gentle grip on her elbow. She was glad it was just the two of them even if it only lasted a few moments. Worried that it might be the last time she was ever able to talk to her best friend, she didn't know what to say. How could one lift ride ever be long enough for such a conversation? Knowing sometimes few words meant more than many, Hermione kissed Harry's cheek.
"Thank you for being my friend, Harry. I love you."
Perhaps trying to hide how upset and emotional he was, Harry hugged her tight instead of speaking. For the rest of the time they stood in the lift, he held her close. She could hear his thumping heart. Was he as afraid as she was that they might never see each other again? With a great deal of reluctance on both their parts, they let each other go when the door opened on Level Nine.
The corridor was empty to her astonishment. She'd expected it to be filled with curious onlookers who wanted to get a glimpse of her in her disgrace. There were a lot of people who hated for her various reasons who would've been happy to see her in such a low state. Perhaps the bottom two levels open to Ministry officials and their visitors were closed until her trial was over. It was unusual to go to such extremes, but not unheard of.
Never did the familiar walk she'd taken countless times to Level Ten seem to take so long and yet not last long enough. She was terrified of what she would find at the end. Would she have a chance to tell her side of the story or was this all merely a formality? Either Harry didn't know or he wasn't allowed to tell her. He took his duties as Head Auror very seriously. If he could tell her anything to put her mind at ease, he would. Maybe that was the telling answer she didn't want to face. She could be walking straight into a future devoid of any hope.
Did she regret what she did knowing how it was all going to end? No, she didn't. She'd given it a lot of thought in her cell. There was nothing else for her to do. If she had it all to do over again, she knew she would've kept searching for the answers and doing whatever was necessary to expose 'Operation Moonlight'. It was what was right. Even if she hadn't fallen in love with Fenrir, she would've done all she could to remember the lives that were lost. She hoped Fenrir could understand that and some day learn to forgive her for being too much of a bloody Gryffindor obsessed with justice.
The courtroom was completely full. Hermione was sure she'd never seen so many people gathered in that room before. Not even the Death Eater trials at the end of the war had such an audience. Every single esteemed member of the Wizengamot was there in their official plum-colored robes. All of the other seats were taken up by an assortment of witches and wizards in various styles of robes, none of whom she recognized. Why were there so many strangers in attendance? Was Kingsley correct when he said this all went much deeper than she realized? Nobody was speaking. There were no smiles on any of the somber faces she dared to look up at.
Harry led her to the chair in the middle of the room. She was grateful he was there. Without him she wasn't sure she could make her legs work. Every eye was on her as she took her seat. Feeling humiliated once again that day, she kept her own eyes focused firmly on the floor. She waited for the next indignity, the clamping of the chains around her wrists and ankles. After all, there could be no mistaking she was a dangerous criminal they were there to convict.
Only the chains never materialized. The harsh, loud sound she heard in the place of their metallic clang was enthusiastic applause. Taking her completely by surprise she didn't know if she could trust her own ears again. Daring to look over at Harry who was happily clapping himself, his bright smile put her at ease even if she still felt very confused.
Hermione lifted her eyes to where the Wizengamot was seated. Every member who had only seconds earlier stared at her with a stern expression, in her mind anyway, smiled and clapped. The other visitors did the same. Everywhere she looked she saw only happy, encouraging smiles. When she built up enough courage to look where the Minister for Magic always presided over full trials, she saw no sign of Kingsley. A witch she knew named Iris Robnott stood in his place. The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it didn't make sense why she would be where the Minister was supposed to be. The applause died down to let Ms. Robnott speak.
"We would like to all thank you for exposing a vast, international underbelly of corruption and depravity the likes we hoped to never see, Miss Granger. Your research into the abhorrent 'Operation Moonlight' was only the very top of a disgusting network that I'm afraid will take us a very long time to fully unravel."
Was this all really happening? It sounded as if she was not only not going to be charged with attempted murder of the Minister for Magic, but she might actually be released. Could her fears of a lifetime spent in Azkaban have been irrational? Or was she hallucinating? She'd felt the delicate strands of her sanity beginning to stretch too tightly, just waiting to snap. Could she really believe what she was hearing? She reached for Harry's arm, needing physical touch to prove she wasn't dreaming. He was all too happy to hold her hand.
"While your help was invaluable, Miss Granger, and I fully expect to see you awarded another Order of Merlin, we must deal with the unfortunate laws that were broken in your discovery and investigation of 'Operation Moonlight'."
Feeling Harry's touch helped her begin to realize she wasn't entirely insane. Hearing Ms. Robnott's reminder that she did indeed break laws in her efforts to expose 'Operation Moonlight' made her nervous again. It was too much to hope that they might just give her a pass.
"Removal of Ministry of Magic files from the building is illegal without proper authorization. Under ordinary circumstances it would mean immediate dismissal from your Ministry position and up to a year in Azkaban depending on the classification levels of the files as well as the number and purpose of removal."
She feared she might throw up. Could they really send her back to Azkaban? The loss of her job would be crushing, but she knew she could recover from that much easier than an extended prison sentence. Other jobs could always be found. Loss of valuable time could never be recovered. Daring to see a light at the end of the tunnel, she didn't want to be away from Fenrir any longer than absolutely necessary.
"The Wizengamot is prepared to offer you a three month suspension without pay and a fine of fifty galleons if the original files are returned to the Ministry Archives before the end of the day. Your eight days in Azkaban will qualify as time served so no further sentence will be necessary. Do you accept these terms, Miss Granger?"
There was absolutely no reason for her not to accept. Squeezing Harry's hand so tightly she knew she was hurting him, Hermione nodded and responded that she would. Ms. Robnott once again offered her praise for bringing 'Operation Moonlight' to light before announcing she was free to go. The sound of applause followed Harry and Hermione out of the courtroom.
Out in the empty corridor, Hermione dropped Harry's hand and nearly collapsed from sheer relief. She pressed her palms against the wall for stability as she took several deep breaths and willed her racing heart to calm before she passed out. When she had more control of herself, she turned her attention back towards her smiling best friend. Using the back of her hand, she playfully slapped him in the stomach.
"You couldn't have warned me that it was going to be good news? Some best friend you are."
Harry smiled, unhurt and not offended.
"I was ordered by Acting Minister Robnott to tell you nothing and she scares me a little. If it helps, I didn't know any of the details of the deal you were going to be offered. I didn't want to give you hope that you wouldn't have to go back to Azkaban only to find out you'd be given another month or two. That seemed cruel."
She supposed with that sort of explanation she really couldn't hold his silence against him. Heavy, fast footsteps coming straight for them caught her attention. For the first time in a very long time, Hermione actually smiled and was happy to see her ex-boyfriend Iain. She met him in the middle of the corridor to throw her arms around his neck and hug him close. He didn't want to let her go, but he was the one to finally break the embrace.
"I can't thank you enough for believing me that night, Iain."
"Of course I did. It was hard to believe Kings was lying, but one look in your eyes and I knew."
His fingertips lightly touched the side of her head.
"I didn't mean to hurt you when I tried to see what was happening. It's been so long since I practiced Legilimency and I'm just rubbish at it."
"No, you're not. I've always said you just need to practice more and be patient. You are perfectly capable, Iain, of…"
Catching herself in the middle of an old argument without meaning to, she stopped abruptly. Iain only smiled. Unfortunately, it didn't last very long at all when he changed the subject to something she'd been curious about, but afraid to ask.
"Kingsley is in Azkaban waiting for his own trial. You will likely be called to testify against him when it happens. Within twenty-four hours of your arrest, Rita Skeeter printed a scathing, and surprisingly, entirely accurate article about corruption within the Ministry that was being actively hidden. Then when all of your parcels reached their intended recipients, there was even more of an uproar. Owls started arriving from all over the world demanding answers about 'Operation Moonlight'. He was finally arrested three days ago trying to flee the country."
Iain sighed then continued.
"Power corrupts some people. I'd noticed a difference in him, but I never would've imagined. Hermione, it's so much worse than just the werewolves."
He didn't offer an explanation what he meant and Hermione was glad. She wasn't sure she was in the right frame of mind to hear it yet. Maybe she never would. Trying to imagine anything worse than 'Operation Moonlight' filled her with dread and a sadness that was hard to shake.
"Your Clark chap has been very worried about you. He's been standing outside for days, pouncing on the two of us every time he sees one of us."
Iain smiled.
"He's all right. Glad to know you'll be taken care of."
Her ex winked and made an excuse to leave them alone again. There was something about Iain that was changed since before she'd been arrested. Maybe he finally could relax knowing she was no longer in danger. What he said about Fenrir meant a great deal. Perhaps that was why he no longer seemed worried. She wouldn't be alone. She hoped this meant they could finally move on from their shared past. It would be wonderful to be able to build an actual friendship with the man or at the very least, she wanted to see him find happiness with someone else just as she'd done.
"Iain's right, you know. Your Clark certainly seems to be a good man and it's obvious he loves you."
There was something about the way Harry said his name that gave Hermione pause. She was worried until she saw his pleased, knowing smile. Had she been unfair to him every time she teased him about being unobservant? They'd all grown up and changed since Hogwarts after all.
"When did you figure out who he was?"
"Not immediately. I knew there was something familiar about him the night we met outside the Ministry. It bugged me. Couldn't figure it out. And then the day you all but attacked me when I said Greyback was the one responsible for Remus being a werewolf. You only express that level of passion for someone you love… or the house-elves."
She snorted, drawing another smile from her best friend. Maybe announcing she was in love with Fenrir Greyback to her loved ones would be easier than she expected.
"And I read the report you sent me and a great deal of the evidence concerning him. Likely no one else noticed, but I know you better than they do. Your report read like a love letter. It was clear what happened to him was personal to you. And your patronus changed. It looks exactly like Tonks' after she fell in love with Remus. I didn't have time to think much about it when I got your message. I sent my patronus to Iain and ordered him to meet me at your house. But later? I thought about it. And he was at your house just hours after you were arrested looking for you. As haggard and exhausted as he looked right after the Full Moon? All of the pieces clicked together the next day after I read your report."
"And what do you think?"
"Does it really matter what I think?"
"Well, no. I love him."
Harry chuckled softly.
"That's what I assumed. If I didn't know anything about what was done to him to make him who he was and if I couldn't see with my own eyes how much he's changed and how much he loves you, I would be the first villager to pick up a pitchfork to go after him. But, it seems like we owe him for what was done to him. I can't promise you that all of the Weasleys will accept him if they knew his true identity after what he did to Bill, but I can promise you that if you really love him, he'll always be welcome in my home."
"Thank you, Harry."
She kissed his cheek, grateful that he could remain so calm and be so mature.
"But if ever tries to hurt you or anyone else as long as he lives, I'll kill him myself."
"That's fair."
Anxious to leave the Ministry, Hermione begged Harry to take her back out the private auror entrance he'd used. It was something of a small miracle that they were able to sneak through the Atrium unnoticed by all of the international press gathered there to tell the story of her trial. Likely most of them assumed it would take longer. They used their distraction to their advantage.
Fenrir found them outside in seconds. Overjoyed to see him and relieved to be swept up in his embrace, Hermione's heart felt full. She kissed him soundly, not caring that Harry was there to watch. Likewise, Fenrir seemed overwhelmed by the reunion. He didn't say a word, just kissed her over and over again between looking over her body to make sure she was either whole or really there.
"Can you take me home?"
"Hermione, love, your home is still a wreck. We've had to lie to the Muggles about there being a gas explosion."
"She's not talking about that one."
Harry smiled at Fenrir's first words. After reminding Hermione about returning the original files, he wished them a good day and went back inside. Fenrir's fingers laced through Hermione's. Seconds later they were standing in the snow in front of his repaired house.
Inside there was no indication that there'd ever been a fight between two grown werewolves. Magic cleared up the debris. She was worried what she would learn, but knew she needed to ask.
"What happened to Silas?"
"He's fine. Between you yelling that he was under a curse and me accidentally rolling us both outside still holding the necklace, he's fine. The others pulled us apart before I could kill him. By morning it was easy to tell he was under an Imperius when we knew to look. He's going to be a witness in Shacklebolt's trial."
"Good. That's very good. I'm relieved."
She wiped at her eyes. Seeing her in danger of getting upset again, Fenrir pulled her back in his arms. For a long time they held each other in a comfortable silence. Both of them needed the reassurance of the other's touch. He was the one brave enough to finally speak his fears out loud first.
"I was afraid I'd never see you again."
"So was I. It was so terrible being away from you. I don't ever want to feel that way again."
"Good, because I don't intend on ever letting you out of my sight as long as we're both alive. You thought I was creepy when I stared at you from the shadows before…"
Though he said it with a smile, she didn't doubt his sincerity. It would likely be a long time, if ever, that either of them could be calm and happy while the other one was gone anywhere. Remembering the files, she bit back a groan.
"I want nothing more than to take a hot bath, put on a clean nightgown, and sleep in your arms for days."
"Besides the nightgown part, that's all I want too. I haven't been able to sleep without you and when I've tried, our wee beastie would wake me up with angry mewls. He missed you too."
"As part of my agreement with the Wizengamot, I have to return the files to the Ministry Archives before the end of the day."
His scowl made his opinion on the matter clear. It was adorable enough to make her smile. Hermione kissed him again, gently but firmly pushing him away when he tried to distract her. She was halfway to his greenhouse when he laughed.
"I know every square centimeter of my greenhouse. If you ever want to hide anything from me, you'll need to pick somewhere else."
Recovering the files was simple. As she brushed the soil off, she couldn't deny that she would be glad to see them go. No longer did she feel the least bit curious about 'Operation Moonlight'. If that changed in the future remained to be seen. She knew about Fenrir's role and she knew he was no monster. That was all that mattered. Let some other poor soul who didn't have such a strong personal tie to the program comb through the rest of the details. She'd had her fill.
"I'll be right back."
"I'm coming with you."
Determined to make good on his promise not to let her out of his sight, Fenrir grabbed her hand on the way out the front door. She wanted him with her, but she couldn't ignore the possibility that he would be seen. With so many journalists vying for an interview, she was afraid he might be subjected to scrutiny he couldn't afford. She didn't want a short errand with her to end with him being exposed as still being alive. He relented with an unhappy scowl she just had to kiss.
"Run me a hot bath and I promise I'll be back before the tub is full."
Getting into the Ministry without being seen again was nearly impossible. Hermione wished she'd thought to ask Harry to borrow his invisibility cloak. Rushing across the Atrium was easier when Minister Robnott made a statement to the assembled press concerning Hermione's trial and what would be coming up in future trials of those suspected of being involved with Kingsley.
Likely catching them while they were at lunch, only one clerk in the Ministry Archives was there to greet Hermione. Nervous at first to see Pius, she relaxed when he offered her a bright, warm smile. It felt between them just as it always had before she started investigating 'Operation Moonlight'.
"I'm here to return the 'Operation Moonlight' files I stole in exchange for not going back to Azkaban."
She wasn't sure if it would ever be appropriate or easy to make a joke about her time in the wretched prison, but she appreciated Pius' pity chuckle.
"I'm relieved that you are all right, Hermione, and that these files were able to help."
Something about what he said made her suspicious. Maybe she'd spent too much time alone in her prison cell.
"You were the one who kept the files current, weren't you?"
Pius' cheeks flushed. He neither confirmed nor denied his part, but she knew.
"And you were the one who gave me Lyall Lupin's address after my notes were stolen."
"Damn shame what happened to him. He was trying to atone for his mistakes too."
"If you were involved, why were you so adamant that I not get involved?"
"Because it was dangerous and I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you. You're the only person in this whole damn building who treated me like an equal from day one. You're too good for this place and I wanted to scare you away to keep you safe."
She reached across the counter to pat his hand. The gesture helped calm him back down.
"Maybe I should've listened to you."
"I'm glad you didn't. It needed to be done."
Pius checked around the room to make certain they were really alone before sliding two folders across the counter. Suddenly nervous again, Hermione wasn't sure what was going to happen.
"I have something for you. Just finished it this morning."
"What is this, Pius? I really can't afford to get arrested again."
"No one will ever miss these. I promise."
He tapped on the first folder.
"Every single document that links Hezekiah Clark Smith with Fenrir Greyback in the entire Ministry is in this folder. There are no copies. You are free to do with it what you wish."
"How did you know?"
He coupled his next smile with a cheeky wink. Not for the first time Hermione thought that if she was twenty years older and unattached, she would've liked to get to know the wizard on a friendlier level.
"I might be the disgraced former Minister, but I still have many friends in convenient places."
"What's in the second file?"
"This required the special skills of one of my more questionable friends, but I assure you, they are perfect without a single flaw."
Curiosity won out as it usually did. The first piece of parchment she pulled out was a birth certificate for a Hezekiah Clark Smith Junior. She didn't understand.
"It's a bit weird for you to date a seventy-eight year old, don't you think? But no one will bat an eye if your wizard is thirty-five."
The rest of the file held a will for Hezekiah Clark Smith Senior leaving all of his worldly possessions and Gringotts' vault to his only son, as well as land deeds and property records all in Junior's name. It was a veritable treasure chest. Everything indeed seemed legal and proper. Was Pius offering Fenrir what she thought he was?
"Even if someone some day remembers Fenrir Greyback used to be called Hezekiah Clark Smith, your Mr. Smith can tell them he's his son. Don't we all have relatives we're ashamed of? My son certainly isn't pleased to share my last name."
Completely and utterly overwhelmed by his kindness and generosity, Hermione had no adequate words to thank him. Once the folders were safely tucked away in a pocket to make certain she didn't lose them or anyone else in the Ministry saw them, she walked around the counter to thank Pius with a grateful hug. He was pleased, but a little embarrassed by the show of affection. She didn't linger long in the Archives.
Before she went back to Scotland and the hot bath she knew would be waiting for her, Hermione chose to stop in her office first. Unsure if he would be there, she was glad to see Robert seated behind his desk scratching away at a report.
"It's good to know that you don't require my supervision to get your work done because I'm afraid you're going to be in charge of the office for the next three months."
Robert knocked over an ink pot in his haste to stand up to hug her. Not exactly the affectionate sort, it meant all the more to her when he held her and then kissed her cheek. Some of the ice that built up between them in recent weeks began to thaw. There was hope that they could one day get back to what their friendship used to be before it all got so strained.
"Iain was just here a few minutes ago updating me. I'm so glad it was good news. I hated the thought of you in Azkaban."
"'Iain'? Not 'Proudfoot the arsehole'?"
She couldn't help teasing him. While he seemed to appreciate the joke somewhat, the pink in his cheeks proved he was also a little embarrassed.
"Oh, he's an arsehole. You should know that better than anyone, but I think it has more to do with him being an obnoxious Gryffindor than anything. He can't bear to ignore the noble cause of helping those he believes to be less fortunate than he is."
He rolled his eyes, but there was a grin there too. It disappeared almost at once when he sighed. She worried about the sudden change in his demeanor. Was it something she'd said?
"I don't want to keep lying to you, Hermione. You've noticed there was something different about me lately and I'm not going to deny it any longer. I got into some trouble with some bad people. I owed them some money. It's a long story, but I have every reason to believe that they were actually part of 'Operation Moonlight'. I think they were trying to blackmail me, so my only choice was to join them. It's insidious and I feel like a complete idiot. Iain overheard a couple of the other aurors talking about me when they didn't know he was nearby. They were laughing about how I was in trouble and there was no way I could pay them back. He didn't understand the significance at the time, didn't realize that they were both working on 'Operation Moonlight' too. That day you caught us arguing… he was trying to lend me money."
Excessive pride didn't only affect Gryffindors. Sometimes studious Ravenclaws could possess a healthy dollop of it as well. Hermione felt some of the knots that had been in her stomach for weeks begin to unravel. As someone whose mind often went to the worst-case scenario, she'd been afraid to know what really happened between the two men. She was glad it was something as simple as Iain sticking his nose where it didn't belong and trying to help. With him being so honest and open, she wondered if he would answer any question she asked.
"What was the favor you asked Miss Desford for?"
No longer a light pink, Robert's cheeks flamed a brilliant scarlet. It didn't take a genius to know he was mortified. She started to tell him that he didn't need to answer, but he held up a hand to stop her.
"Nanette's father owns the building my flat is in. I've thought she was pretty for a long time and I really do like her, but I only finally asked her out because I hoped she would be able to talk her father into allowing me to skip paying my rent for a month or two. It was a horrible thing to ask of her and I know I put her in a terrible position. As soon as she did, I was too embarrassed to see her again. If she already knew that I couldn't pay my rent, what else would she be disappointed to discover about me later?"
Hermione wondered if every single werewolf who wasn't the heir to a large fortune like Fenrir experienced the same crisis in their lives. Worried that they were too poor and dangerous, did they all push away potential love? Robert reminded her so much of Remus she wanted to cry and slap him all at once. Hoping that she might have a solution, she forced Robert to make eye contact.
"Are you still in some financial troubles, Robert? Don't lie to me."
"I accepted Iain's loan, if that's what you want to know. I thought he might make me grovel, but he was kind. My loan with impossible interest is no longer an issue, but I still have to pay Iain back and I'm not going to neglect to pay Mr. Desford for the rent I missed, but I also can't really afford to live in that flat any longer."
"You just need some time to get back on your feet. We've all had our own struggles. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Now, I may have an answer for at least one of your problems. If you accept it, it might make the others easier to deal with too."
He seemed intrigued, yet wary.
"How do you feel about moving into a house where a Muggle may have been killed?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"You could move into my house. I don't want to live there any longer. I'd just as soon as burn it all down, if we're honest. But it's yours if you want it. You could live there for as long as you wanted. Pay me in rent what you can afford. If some months are tighter than others, it's all right. We will work it out."
"That's very generous of you, Hermione, but…"
"No 'buts'. Come to Fenrir's some night this week for dinner. We can discuss the details."
Hermione extended her hand to close the deal in a handshake. When he accepted, she felt some relief. It felt good to be able to help a friend in need. And she had to think of Margaret too. If she sold the house, the next buyer might not be so receptive to the idea of paying an elderly woman who could hardly clean to clean the house. Robert would like her and she knew Margaret would adore Robert. She could already see the little old woman bringing over hot meal after hot meal declaring that he was too thin.
"Now, you're in charge of the office for the next three months. Do try not to reorganize everything. I'd like to be able to at least recognize my department when I return."
She was one step out of the office before she turned back around.
"Oh, and Robert, apologize to Miss Desford. Take whatever you were going to give me for rent the first month and buy her a beautiful bouquet of flowers to apologize for being such an arse. Then, if she'll have you, take her on a nice date."
More than once Hermione thought she was going to be trapped in the Ministry before she could get out. A pushy, obnoxious American journalist cornered her in a lift to try to get an exclusive. Overly confident and sure of himself, she hated him from the very moment he opened his mouth. She told him to send her assistant an owl to set up a time for them to meet the next time she was in the office. Robert would be perceptive enough to know to throw his request right in the bin the moment he opened it. Another journalist nearly Side-Along Apparated with her back to Scotland. Only a harsh shove at the last second kept the horrible woman in London. Never had she been so relieved to step inside a house as she did Fenrir's.
"The tub nearly overflowed."
His petulant tone and the pouty scowl on his face nearly made her laugh. If she hadn't been so excited to show him the folders Pius had given her, she might have.
"I'm sorry, but I have a good excuse."
He wasn't sure what to make of them at first. His brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed. Several times he looked up from a piece of parchment to look at her with a silent question. When it finally dawned on him the significance of the paperwork, she could see the change in his entire face. Both frightened and wondering if it was even possible, he didn't want to seem too enthusiastic.
"This is entirely your choice, Fenrir. I can't tell you what to do. Whatever you decide, I will support one hundred percent. You can pretend the birth certificate and the will and all of the deeds don't exist and remain Fenrir Greyback. Or, if you want, you could be Clark Smith again and live life just like a normal bloke again."
Echoing the words back to him that he spoke that emotional night in the greenhouse when she first kissed him seemed to help him make up his mind. He laid the folder with the new documents for Hezekiah Junior on the table next to his sofa. The file with every document that linked Hezekiah Clark Smith with Fenrir Greyback was hurled into the fireplace. Together they watched his past become ashes.
"All right, Clark…"
His smile was shy, but pleased. Worried she was in real danger of bursting into hysterical, happy sobs, Hermione took him by the hand and pulled him towards the bedroom. They needed a distraction.
"…I've had one shower of ice cold seawater in over a week. You're going to scrub Azkaban out of my hard to reach places."
The End.