Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and am making no money from this.
Ron
It's the last day of Christmas break, and I'm at this little village called Chalmer's Crossing. There's not a ton here, some houses, a few shops, nothing really special. The shops are why I'm here doing some last shopping before heading back to Hogwarts. The selection here isn't great, but the prices are. Got to lure people in somehow, right? Can't compete with Diagon Alley for size and all that, so give people a deal. It's not crowded like Diagon Alley, but there's still people around, a few dozen walking around the street and a bunch more in the various stores.
I'm not really shopping for a lot, just a few little things for school. Odds and ends I think my mum would call them. I can't afford anything big anyway. But hey, just have to appreciate what do have, right?
I haven't been here too long and I'm almost done. After all, I'm a guy, guys shop fast, right? I know when I've been out shopping with Gin and my mum those two take forever. I mean, hours and hours, just looking at stuff. Just looking, not even buying, they don't even have money to buy but still they can take hours. I just don't get it. Me? I know what I'm after, I come in, get it and that's it, I'm done. It makes sense, right?
I'm walking down the street on my way to the last store I need to get stuff from, when three people Apparate in, dressed in black robes with white masks. "Death to mud bloods and enemies of the dark lord," one yells.
Oh bloody hell, Death Eaters. I run for cover, same as everyone else here. The Death Eaters start flinging spells and everyone's just panicking. I duck behind a bench, one of those things that people put here to pretty up the place and stuff.
Ok, this is bad. I mean, yeah, Death Eaters, no doubt that's bad. But it's especially bad for me. I mean, I'm not some nobody anymore. I helped beat you-know-who at the end of last year. I was in the paper, I'm famous now. The Death Eaters may know me, may go out of their way to go after me if they recognize me? What are they going to do? Kill me? Try and capture me? Then what, torture me and stuff? Let someone like Lucius Malfoy do whatever they want? Hold me for hostage so Harry has to trade himself for me or something?
No way in hell I can let that happen. I need to come up with something here, a plan. Or at least something that gets me out of here. I look around, hoping something comes to me, but I'm not seeing anything good. People are running for their lives all over the place. The three death Eaters have split up, one going to each end of the little town and the third is just standing in the middle of the street right in the center of the place. They're all flinging spells, some at random, some right at people.
Their plan is working too; it's panic and chaos. It's not a big place and not exactly crowded like Diagon Alley is, but there's enough people to be running into each other and even over the people who are down. I can't tell if they're stunned or dead or what. If they aren't dead I can't imagine having people walk on top of them is helping their condition.
Ok, things are bad, real bad. The smart play is to hide. I'm ducked down behind a bench, I've got some cover so random spells won't hit me, so it's not a terrible place. Not like it's the best place in the town either, so maybe I should look around for an opening to run somewhere, into a store or out of town or something.
It's not like I need to stay hidden for long; Aurors will be here soon. They must know this is going on, I mean, someone reports death Eater attacks, right? It can't be more than a few minutes until they get here. And it's only three Death Eaters, a squad of Aurors should be able to take them easy. That or make them run. Yeah, that's probably what will happen, as soon as the Death eaters see Aurors they'll Apparate out.
So no doubt that hiding is the smart play, but then I didn't get put into Gryffindor because of smarts. Besides, all that practice with the DA were for something just like this. If I didn't do something I wouldn't be much of a Gryffindor or a DA member, would I?. Yeah, they're Death Eaters, but there's only three of them. That and two are kind of far away, at each end of this little town, so really it's just one near me. Just one Death Eater who's terrorizing people and probably isn't expecting anyone to fight back.
I watch the Death Eater near me. He's yelling and firing off spells. By now everyone knows the death Eaters are here, so manly he's just trying to add to the panic and chaos and stuff, not even seeming to care what direction he shoots magic in. I watch and wait, waiting for him to turn away. When he does, I take out my wand and fire off a stunner.
The Death Eater never sees it coming and my spell hits him right in the middle of his back. He goes down as soon as the stunner hits. I check on the other two Death Eaters; they're still at the far ends of town, terrorizing away, completely unaware their friend is down. I guess in all the screaming and chaos they didn't hear my spell. Brilliant.
I run into the street, checking on the Death Eater I downed. He's not moving, but I have to be sure; I give him a little kick to make sure he's really out. He doesn't react at all, so yeah, he's down for real. That's good; what's not good is that my plan sort of covered dealing with one Death Eater and that's it. Now I'm in the middle of the street, totally exposed with two Death Eaters around and no real idea how to deal with them.
I could pick one of the remaining two and try to fight them, but that can go bad They're both pretty far away, and I don't know for sure if I'll be able to actually hit them with spells. Yeah, firing off a spell and missing would be bad. Worse be would be if both notice me, then I'm caught in a crossfire. Ok, fighting's out. So if I can't fight them, what do I do? I guess I could go hide, but I've got a stunned Death Eater here, I don't want him to recover and get away or cause trouble again.
I look back and forth between the two active Death Eaters trying to come up with a plan, but I never manage to invent one. Instead several people Apparate in. Not Death Eaters this time; Ministry Aurors instead, a half dozen of them. The two Death Eaters don't even try to make a fight of it, they just vanish away with Apparation.
The Aurors look around and find the stunned Death Eater I'm standing over real fast. "You did this?" one of them asks me.
"Yeah, I stunned him," I answer.
"Nice work, kid."
The Aurors secure the Death Eater (the take his wand and use a spell to tie him up.) Finally they reach down and pull off the white mask he's wearing and I get to see just who I captured.
Cho
It only took me a few minutes back in the castle after Christmas break to hear the gossip. It's about me, so why shouldn't I? All sorts of people asking me if it's true, how was it, what drove me to it and a thousand other variations. All centering around the now widely accepted "fact" that I'm bisexual, thanks to what was obviously an unexpectedly public kiss between Fleur and I.
No one has bothered to ask me about my sexual orientation, of course; it makes a better story if I actually am bisexual. Scandalous because I'm already in a relationship, and more so because of my "cheating" being Sapphic in nature.
In point of fact, I've never considered a relationship, romantic or sexual with another girl. I've always thought of myself as heterosexual. When Fleur seemed to be flirting with me I assumed it was a game; after all, I came to the Ball with a date, how could she actually be genuine in her advances towards me? And yes, I played along. In retrospect Fleur probably saw this as her advances being returned so felt the kiss was appropriate.
The kiss was quite exceptional as well, possibly the best I've ever had. I'm not entirely sure what to make of that. Fleur's game of having my hands find her various curves while we danced was not an entirely unpleasant experience either. So maybe there is some truth to the rumors? Maybe I'm not as entirely heterosexual as I had always thought? I don't know. What's more, I don't know how to figure it out.
Just how does one determine a thing like that? Attempt a relationship with another girl and see what comes of it? A so called one night stand to test physical attraction? I suppose that has a reasonable chance of success. The obvious problem being, I'm already in a relationship, strained as it is, and that sort of violation of trust would destroy it.
But even if the answer was yes and I was on some level bisexual, would it actually matter? I imagine it would affect my life here at Hogwarts in any meaningful way. My issues with Harry won't go away or heal if I have an interest in girls, and Ron Weasley won't become less of an irritant if I find females attractive. So perhaps it's nothing more than an academic point, a curiosity to ponder when I have free time.
Unfortunately the effects of that kiss are not a mere curiosity, they are real and need to be dealt with. That means talking with Fleur and facing Harry (and whatever nonsense Ron has filled his head with over Christmas break.) Both need addressing, but I can't deal with either at the moment. Instead I have to speak with Madame Hooch, whose office I'm just outside.
When I got back from Christmas Break, along with hearing all the rumors of my newly discovered bisexual nature, I was told that Madame Hooch wanted to speak with me in her office. As the faculty head of the Quidditch program all matters related to the game here at Hogwarts go through her, professional contract offers included. It could be something else, but I'm hopeful that is why I was called here.
The office door is open when I get there, so I poke my head in and knock on the open door. "I was told you wanted to see me, ma'am?" I ask Madame Hooch, who is sitting at her desk inside.
"Ah, Chang, yes, come in." I do as asked and go in, sitting down. "I've heard you want to play professional Quidditch."
"That's correct," I confirm.
"Good, because you've got a chance to. The first offers from professional teams are in and three of them have your name on them."
"Three?"
"That's right, three. I suppose we might as well start at the bottom of the pile: the Chudley Cannons. They're offering a five-year contract, with you guaranteed to start for all five years."
A long contract, especially for a rookie, and all guaranteed starts. It's a big risk for a team to take on an untested player. On the other hand, it's the Chudley Cannons, which means it could be five winless years.
"Not impressed I see," I'm not sure if Madame Hooch read the expression on my face or simply knows that an offer from the worst team in the league is not likely to impress. "All right, how about the Tutshill Tornados? This would only be for one year, though, and no guarantee as to if you'd start in any games."
A very different offer there, from the worst team in the league to one of the best. But only one year, and no guarantee as to if I'd play a single minute? In a year's time I could be left with a contract that's run its course and no playtime to help me find a new one.
"The third offer is from the Appleby Arrows. It's for three years, guaranteed starts the first year, but they only guarantee a quarter of the games in the last two years. In effect, one and a half years of starts guaranteed."
The Arrows are a mid level team, but the word is that they're looking to move up and are spending the money to make a serious run at a championship. The guaranteed year gives me an audition for that; a paid audition.
"Just out of curiosity, what kind of money are the Arrows offering?" I ask.
"One point two million galleons over three years, plus two hundred thousand galleons as a signing bonus.," Madam Hooch replies.
All right, an exceedingly well compensated audition. The signing bonus alone would take the average person forty years to earn. "That's a lot of money," I comment.
"I agree. For a rookie, it's one of the biggest I've seen. If I might give you some advice?" I nod. "It's a great offer. A team that's going places, wonderful money and guaranteed play time. If you can make something of the first year, then the team is almost certain to renew your contract, which means more money and a real shot at a championship. And looking like you do, endorsement deals are a lock if you go somewhere in your first year. I'd take the contract and call myself the luckiest girl on a broom."
"It's a rather easy choice, yes. So where do things go from here?"
"I have a lawyer friend who looks over these contracts for students here. Now, if you'd like to use your family lawyer you're welcome to do that too."
"No, it's fine, I'll trust the lawyer you know." I can just imagine how trying to use my parents' lawyer will go. A man I've never met (I assume it's a man, but maybe not, who knows), who works for my parents. "Just what is there for a lawyer to find in a contract anyway?"
"It's just a precaution, in case of anything unusual or punitive is in the contract. It's rare, but now and then there are clauses that can be problematic, or even outright deal breakers. Mainly it's just so you know what you're committing to before you sign."
"Fair enough. So what's the process going forward?"
"As I said, I'll have a lawyer look the contract over, which should take a few days. Once that's done I'll tell you what he finds, and if you're still interested we'll schedule a meeting with the team. They'll come here and that's when the actual contract signing occurs. Barring anything unexpected you should be officially a professional player in a week's time."
A week and it'll be over; I'll have my dream job and a staggering pile of gold. It's almost unbelievable.
Hermione
Christmas was very nice, at home with my parents and Pansy. It was nothing extravagant, a rather low key Christmas really, but I enjoyed it. I don't know if Christmas was usually a bigger thing at Parkinson Manor, it probably was, but if so Pansy never said a word. She was her usual perfect self as far as my parents were concerned. Actually, she seems to have adjusted to this sort of life, as well as she can at least.
I know it must hurt Pansy's pride to be financially dependent on my parents. I worry about her going forward. She needs a job, a career really, and I worry she isn't giving it much thought. I've pushed her some, but she hasn't budged much at all.
I can understand her reluctance; for virtually her entire life Pansy thought she'd never need a job, probably never even gave the matter of work a single thought. When you're the heiress to a fortune, why think about a job. Things are different now, of course. I'm not sure what Pansy can do for work. She's certainly bright enough to be able to do most anything, in theory, but in reality it's hard to think of a job that she wouldn't find annoying, stupid or beneath her.
It's not that I can't sympathize; I'm having my own issues picking a career. So many professions run through the government, the Ministry of Magic, which is hardly an organization I have a wonderful impression of, for so many reasons. Their treatment of marginalized races in the magical world, their denials of Voldermort's return and their campaign against Harry, there's plenty of easy reasons to not trust them.
There was a time I might have been content doing magical research, or maybe run a rare book store or something like that, but not anymore. Pansy said she expected big things of me, and while I'm not ready to overthrow the government like she's teased that I one day should, I'm finding it hard to accept a future as a Ministry employee or some librarian either.
Still, if I have to, I will. For all my pushing of Pansy, if worse comes to worse and she simply can't or won't find a job she can live with, I'm prepared to support us both, even if it means a job at the Ministry. I won't tell Pansy that, of course, but if it comes to it, I love her enough to swallow my pride and find a way to support us both. Obviously it'd be easier if I didn't have to, but I'm not sure if Pansy's favorite things like being rude, insulting people, and catfights leading to adult lesbian situations will translate to paying work very well.
I imagine next year I'll get a job offer or two, of the sort I'd rather avoid but may have no choice but to take. I'll have to stall on deciding, hoping that something better comes up, that Pansy finds something or I find something that isn't just drudgery to pay the bills. It's depressing, and I'd rather not think about it. Maybe I can avoid thinking about it until summer.
But breakfast comes first. Pansy and I walk down the stairs to the common room expecting to meet Harry and Ron so we can go down to eat, but instead Professor McGonagall is waiting for us.
"Miss Granger, Miss Parkinson, if you will come with me please? You are both needed in the headmaster's office," she greets us.
"What's going on, professor?" I ask.
"As I said, you are both needed in the headmaster's office."
All right, apparently we don't get any more answers. I look at Pansy, we trade shrugs and then follow Professor McGonagall to the headmaster's office. I'm not sure why Professor McGonagall won't tell us, but either way, we'll know soon enough.
When we get to the headmaster's office, Professor Dumbledore is already there, sitting behind his desk, with someone I've never seen before standing next to him.
"Miss Granger, Miss Parkinson, good morning," Professor Dumbledore greets us. Most teachers here (Professor Snape being the exception) still refer to Pansy by her former last name, and she's been in no hurry to pick a new one, despite being legally disowned from the Parkinson family.) "This is Mr. Pearson, from the Ministry of Magic."
"The Ministry?" I ask.
"What'd you do?" Pansy gives me a playful smirk.
"Nothing."
"There is a letter here from the Interim Minister of Magic that I think will explain things much more succinctly than I can," Dumbledore holds out a letter to me.
"The Minister? What the heck are you into, Hermione?" Pansy looks at me.
"I'll tell you in a minute." I open the letter and start reading.
Dear Miss Granger,
As you have made abundantly clear, the matter of Parkinson Manor and the associated properties and items are of prime concern to you. While I still maintain that this is unwise and the cost will be far greater than you will be comfortable with in the final analysis, I have chosen to acquiesce to your demands in this matter.
The relevant laws have been passed and ownership of Parkinson Manor, the Parkinson name and all the various properties and assets of the Parkinson family have now been transferred to Pansy Parkinson (name restored), who has been legally declared an adult and therefore legally allowed to inherit and manage the assets of the Parkinson family.
With this letter I have dispatched a Ministry official with the paperwork for Miss Parkinson to sign. I trust this satisfies your needs and consider the matter settled.
"He actually did it," I mutter to myself.
"Who did what?" Pansy asks.
"Oh, that's actually a bit of a story, you see. I know all that you gave up to be with me, and I was truly moved, but I wish you didn't have to lose all that you did. And I know life as a more normal person with a regular job and career and whatnot isn't exactly something that you were looking forward to, so I've been working on something with the Minister. I've been trying to get all the Parkinson assets taken from your parents and given to you."
"What, you pull one of those Muggle guns on him or something? Because that's just not how things work."
"Yes, yes, I know, people said that, but the Minister is interim, you see, and wants to be permanent, so with an election coming he was a man who was in need. After the end of last year when we were declared heroes and all that, we were valuable to someone up for election so I used that influence."
"You blackmailed the Minister of Magic?"
"Interim Minister, and I did not blackmail so much as make a deal whereby we both got something we wanted. He gets the support of heroes and gets to look tough on Voldermort and dark wizards and all manner of threats and I, well, technically you, get all the Parkinson assets. I believe they were considered assets of a terrorist organization and seized and returned to the first available non-terrorist heir."
"I'm not a Parkinson heir," Pansy points out.
"Yes, well, I believe it was explained that at the time that you were removed they were already part of a terrorist conspiracy so your removal was in furtherance of that and therefore illegal and thus null and void."
"Seriously? Who came up with that crap?"
"I did. And it doesn't need to sound good, it's law now."
"How did that get put into law?" Pansy demands.
"I don't know the details. Favor trading, I assume. He said the cost was high and I might not be happy with it, but what it costs him has not been a major concern for me. The Minister seemed unhappy about it, but he got it done, he gets to look tough for the voters, and you get Parkinson Manor. The details are not something I'm focusing on; I'm taking more of a big picture approach to this, you see."
"There are some forms to sign, of course," Dumbledore cuts in. "And then a brief inspection and a sign off on all assets being present and accounted for. I will accompany you both to Parkinson Manor for the tour. Obviously this will take you out of class, but I expect we should be back in time for dinner, so you should not fall too far behind in your studies."
Pansy spends the next while signing forms that Ministry person brought. It feels like it takes easily an hour, and she must sign her name over a hundred times. I don't try to read the forms or even look at them. For all I know it's the same form a hundred times. Obviously the Parkinsons have a great many assets, this must be for all of them, individually or in bunches.
Finally, all the forms are signed and it's time to go.
"Very well, I will be taking you both to Parkinson Manor," Professor Dumbledore starts. "We will leave school grounds and then I will Apparate us there. Miss Parkinson will have an opportunity to make an assessment things, make sure all are in order and then sign off to that effect. Additionally I would suggest changing whatever wards or other security measures are in place to secure the grounds."
Professor Dumbledore walks Pansy and I out of the castle and off the grounds (Hogwarts own wards prevent Apparation onto or off of the grounds, of course) and we vanish, reappearing in front of a gatehouse, flanked on both sides by tall hedge walls.
"You have a gate house?" I ask the obvious question.
"Of course. How else are you going to get on and off the grounds?" Pansy replies.
The gates open for Pansy (of course they do, once she signed all that paper work in Professor Dumbledore's office she became mistress of the manor) and we go through. The grounds of Parkinson Manor are massive. Seemingly endless manicured lawns, gardens and a tree lined path leading to a huge manor house in the distance. I can't even begin to guess what this all would be worth in Muggle dollars. Tens of millions? A hundred or more? It's almost certainly the latter.
"This is all yours?" I ask.
"Yeah, Parkinson Manor's big, bigger than Malfoy Manor actually. The Malfoys wanted to be close in to the Ministry see, figured it'd keep them closer to power or some crap. But land and all that's more expensive closer in, so they have less land and a smaller house. We're way out in the middle of nowhere here, so my ancestors got all this stuff," Pansy explains.
After we walk up Pansy's almost comically long driveway we get to the house. Inside it looks like something you'd see on a TV show detailing a royal estate, or maybe a five star hotel; the opulence is on a level I've never seen in person.
"We'll have to have Christmas here next year. Your parents' place is great and all, but it's only fair I take a turn, right? Can put them up in the guest wing," Pansy comments.
"I'm sure they'll enjoy that," I agree. "They might find being served be a staff of house elves a bit off-putting, however. They're hardly the sort of graceful creatures most Muggles think of an elf as being." To say nothing of my own distaste for the enslavement of the species.
"Ugh, I forgot all about those things. Dumb bastards probably are in mourning my idiot parents aren't still in charge here. Got to get rid of them; last thing I want is hearing how I'm a blood traitor or whatever the hell they'd call me every time I see them."
"Ah. I'm glad you want to let them go, honestly. House elf enslavement is a vile thing. I do hope you don't plan to get new house elves. There must be other methods to upkeep the manor house and grounds."
"Yeah, yeah, bad having slave elves and all that. Really, this is one place Muggles put the wizarding world away. Just look at a house elf; they're ugly little things. Who the hell would want something that looks like that around? But Muggles? They've got French maids. Seriously, have you see those outfits? Great stuff. Got to hire me a staff of hot girls and put them in those outfits. Be some tasty things to enjoy there."
"Pansy, you can't take advantage of people like that," I gasp. House elf exploitation is terrible, there's no way I can let Pansy trade that atrocity for another: the sexual exploitation of people.
"What take advantage? Pay a person enough and they'll gladly agree."
"Pansy," I give my girlfriend a stern look.
"All right, fine, fine, look but no touching. But don't for a second tell me looking is something you wouldn't enjoy just as much as I will."
"Where did you even learn what a French maid outfit is in the first place?" I change the subject.
"The internet." Of course; it figures.
We look through the grand house, room by room, with Pansy checking off various items on the paperwork Professor Dumbledore brought as we go. After a while, I'm starting to see a pattern emerge: we're avoiding a certain room, and as we see more and more rooms it's becoming obvious that the room being left for last is Pansy's own.
Finally, we run out of other rooms to inspect and find ourselves in front of this last closed door. Pansy hesitates just the tiniest bit and then opens the door. The room inside, Pansy's room is quite large and must once have been a very nice room for a girl. Now it's as much carbon ash and debris as someone's room. What little of the walls that haven't been scorched and burnt (presumably with magical fire) were once a pretty pink color. The furniture was probably the best quality money could buy at one point, maybe even antique; now it's splintered and broken. If I didn't know this was a bedroom I might not be able to decipher what the furniture once was. Whatever personal possessions Pansy may have once had are long gone, shattered and burnt.
Pansy makes a small little noise and then turns and runs off.
"Perhaps you should go after her," Professor Dumbledore suggests. "I will remain here and see if I can't mend some of the damage."
I take Professor Dumbledore's advice and go looking for Pansy. She doesn't have much of a head start, but she's running, so she's opened up some distance. I follow the sound of Pansy's high heels on the hard stone and wood floors and then the sound of a door opening. I keep following Pansy outside and see her running into a grove of trees a short distance from the house.
I finally catch up to Pansy in that grove of trees. There's a bench hanging from a tree branch and Pansy is on it, swinging slowly and crying. I sit down next to my girlfriend, taking her in my arms.
"Damn it, they didn't need to do that," Pansy starts. "There wasn't any point, none at all. I mean, what the hell were the odds I'd ever even see my room again?"
"It was bitter, angry people lashing out."
"It was my parents being assholes."
"You have everything that was theirs now. One is in prison; the other is a criminal on the run; it's only a matter of time before they're caught and brought to justice as well."
"They have to pay, Hermione."
"They will. Azkaban is no picnic. Remember, Harry's godfather was there. He doesn't talk about it much, but from what I've picked up it truly is a horrible place."
"That's not good enough, Hermione. They'll make deals, offer up information or other Death Eaters, they'll try all that stupid crap you see in Muggle shows about court cases. They'll drag it out for years and find some way to get off with a slap on the wrist. That's not going to happen. You understand me? It will not."
"Pansy, I know you're upset, how distressing this must be…" I start.
"No Hermione, no talking the angry girlfriend down, no being reasonable, none of that crap. And don't tell me to trust the system or that justice will be done or any of those other lame clichés. I've seen them all in the movies and they're a pile of shit."
If there's to be no trial, that means no arrest, no Aurors, no Ministry involvement at all. It'd be us, Pansy and I who deal with this. There's no way that leads to anything but violence. No, there's no mistaking what Pansy's doing: she's asking me for permission to kill; permission to kill her mother. It should be a request I turn down instantly. It's murder, who gives permission for that? But Pansy's mother is no innocent, she's a Death Eater, guilty of who knows how many crimes. What's more, she hurt the girl I love, and not just today. I haven't forgotten that howler last year, how she disowned Pansy and what her parents said.
"All right," I answer Pansy. I shouldn't have said that, I should have told Pansy no, but somehow when I opened my mouth saying yes was the only answer I could give.
Author's Notes:
This update is much, much later than I had hoped, and I'm sorry about that. It's just been hard to find the time to get this done, both for me and my editor. Work's been pretty hectic for both of us.
For anyone curious what Cho's offer comes to in US dollars it's 12 million over 3 years plus 2 million to sign. I based this off what's been seen in the NFL for very promising rookies. Based on the crowd for the World Cup in the 4th movie there's no shortage of Quidditch fans and if the game is played all across Europe the market for the sport could be roughly the same as football in the US. Maybe somewhat smaller, but not whole orders of magnitude so I'd think.
As always, thanks ot that-fan for help with edits (every section in this chapter needed pretty heavy reworking from the first draft.) Also thanks to everyone who reviews. I really appreciate it.