A.N.: So, I've just submitted my application to teacher training! Feeling slightly nauseous. But I thought I'd give you an update to celebrate!
Eldest of the Pleiades
A Parting of the Ways
Thrashing around in his bed, tangled in the sheets, sweating and shuddering, Harry became aware that he was yelling in his sleep, as someone tried to shake him awake. The Hospital Wing was dark, now, specks of amber light coming from a couple of lamps, and Harry, shivering and choking on terror, heard a soft, accented voice saying, "Vake up. Potter, vake up - you are having a nightmare."
"Krum?"
"Yes. I thought you vould vake ven you started screaming, but your dream must have had a hold on you," Krum said, and with surprising care he untwisted the sheets around Harry. Panting, Harry lay shivering as sweat cooled all over his body. Krum poured a glass of water from the nightstand and handed it to Harry, taking Hermione's usual seat beside him. Sirius was nowhere to be seen.
"S-sorry," Harry apologised, staring blearily up at the ceiling. His head throbbed. He thought he could remember his nightmare - only, it wasn't a dream; it was a memory. "I d-didn't mean to wake you."
"You did not," Krum told him quietly. "I vos writing to my cousins in Bulgaria."
Harry pulled himself upright against the pillows, nursing the glass of water. It slipped down his throat, cold and bracing. He shoved his glasses on, and Krum's large beaked nose and bushy eyebrows came into focus. "Are your parents still here?"
"They left yesterday afternoon," Krum told him. "After speaking vith Dumbledore."
"Hermione said he spoke to all the Durmstrang students," Harry remembered.
"It vas good of him to do so; others vould not have," Krum said. "Our headmaster is in disgrace… I have very much respect for your Dumbledore, and for telling us all that has happened…but it should not be so surprising; Dumbledore is a great vizard. He stopped Grindelvald, ven none others dared…and he is the only von Lord Voldemort fears."
Harry was too stunned to keep shivering. "You said his name."
"Grindelvald murdered by grandfather, I valked past his symbol at Durmstrang every day and refused to look away, or forget," Krum said stubbornly. "I vill not cower at the sound of a name made up by a vizard who vishes nothing but evil for the vorld." They sat in silence for a few minutes, Harry slowly sipping his water, his body calming down. Then, Krum said sadly, "I liked Diggory. He vas always polite to me, even though I vas from Durmstrang - vith Karkaroff."
"He was decent," Harry said quietly, and Krum nodded, gazing unseeingly at Harry's sheets. Curiously, and to take his mind off other things because his eyes had started burning, Harry asked, "What's Durmstrang like?"
"Vell, it is much like Hogvarts, it is hidden in mountains with a great lake… There are vonderful views all around, and flying…you can fly for miles vithout ever vorrying about Muggles seeing you," Krum said. "In the summertime, ve dive from the ship into the great lake… Ve learn duelling and martial magic, though this has given Durmstrang its dark reputation… It is cold, alvays, this is thought to sharpen our minds and make our bodies strong; ve must vear furs most days, especially in vinter, ven the fires are still not lit… Professor Dumbledore has invited us to sit in lessons until the end of your term, I shall be very interested to see the difference in teaching. Your Professor McGonagall…she is a strict teacher, yes?"
"Very," Harry nodded.
"But you respect her," Krum said, frowning at him, and Harry nodded vigorously, then winced, his head pounding. Krum watched him carefully, then said softly, "Yes, I vas impressed by her. You know vere you stand vith her. And she is not unkind."
"She's tough but fair," Harry said. "And she loves Quidditch."
"Does she?" Harry sat up a little straighter, and told Krum - the famous international Quidditch player - about his first time on a broom, and how Professor McGonagall, rather than inflicting corporal punishment for breaking the rules, had put him on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Curious, Harry asked how Krum had managed to join the Bulgarian International Team while still a student at Durmstrang, and they talked for a little while about Krum's gruelling training, comparing Quidditch injuries and discussing favourite techniques. It did occur to Harry that this was the most he had ever heard Krum speak, ever.
"The Weasley twins are our Beaters - they're practically bludgers themselves," Harry said, grinning, even as his head ached.
"The red-haired tvins in your Gryffindor, vith the clever jokes?" Krum asked, and Harry nodded. "They turned von of my friends into a canary vith a biscuit they hexed."
"Yeah…Canary Creams. They want to start a joke-shop, see," he told Krum. "Actually, you know, they bet on you, at the Quidditch World Cup, so they could gain more capital to get inventing…" He told them about the twins' bet - that Ireland would win, but Krum would catch the Snitch. Talking about the World Cup, they somehow got onto the subject of the Dark Mark, and the terror it had inspired that night; Krum told him about the sign of Grindelwald, carved into a wall at Durmstrang. Krum said both symbols inspired the same reaction; the common theme, Krum thought, was that both wizards - Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort - feared Dumbledore above all others.
"Lord Voldemort did not have the same hold over Europe as did Grindelvald ven he vos at the height of his power, but then Grindelvald never dared invade Britain, and the only safe place in Britain during Lord Voldemort's reign vos here at Hogvarts," Krum sighed. "The vorld turned upside-down in terror - because of two men. And ve are the ones left to fight."
"Are you - going to fight?"
"I vill do vot I can," Krum said quietly. "Dumbledore avenged my grandfather ven he defeated Grindelvald. The last few days have shown his true character, and ven he says Lord Voldemort has risen, I believe him, and I vill do all I can to help a man I deeply respect….It vos very brave, Potter, vot you did."
"I survived," Harry said heavily, his throat burning. He stared up at the ceiling. "I am the Boy Who Lived… I survive when other people don't. I don't know why."
After a silence that seemed to stretch, Krum said, "Herm…Hermione…says your scar comes from the Killing Curse that rebounded."
"Yeah."
"It pains you. Ven you vere thrashing around through your nightmare, you vere clutching your head," Krum noted.
"Yeah, it…it hurts, sometimes…when Voldemort's close, or I think, when he's angry," Harry said.
"Von of our professors at Durmstrang vos an Auror - he did not get on vith Karkaroff… He told us curse-scars are old magic," Krum said, and then, plainly, "At least yours is useful."
"I'm like a walking Sneakoscope," Harry said thoughtfully, and Krum laughed softly.
"It is no vonder Dumbledore is protective over you," he said. "I noticed, ven your name vas pulled out of the Goblet. He took you at your vord; he trusted you."
"Dumbledore's good like that," Harry said, sighing, suddenly very tired.
"This castle is very comfortable," Krum said, a little while later, gazing around the Hospital Wing. "And your Healer reminds me of my grandmother. She is strict but caring."
"Did you like sitting at the Slytherin table?" Harry asked curiously.
"I know that Slytherin House has the same reputation as Durmstrang," Krum said, carefully. "But ve are not all Grindelvald, just as all Slytherins are not Lord Voldemort… Some of your classmates are decent like Diggory, I am glad to meet them." Harry raised his eyebrows, thinking, Decent, in Slytherin? But he supposed, no, Krum wasn't like Karkaroff, who lived up to his foul reputation.
"So…you invited Hermione to visit you in Bulgaria," Harry said casually.
"I vould very much like for my family to meet her," Krum nodded. "Ven ve arrived at Hogwarts I vos struck by the school; I think my cousins vould do better here than at Durmstrang - even vithout Karkaroff there… I vos hoping my aunts and uncles could speak to Hermione about the school…"
"Hermione's the cleverest witch in the school," Harry said loyally, and truthfully. "If you let her, she won't ever stop talking about what she's been learning!"
"It is vy I like her," Krum said. "She is comfortable in herself… She vos annoyed ven the other girls kept following me into the library, distracting her, she did not care that I am a famous Quidditch player." Harry grinned.
"Yeah, well, she has to put up with a lot with me," he said fairly. "And she doesn't really get Quidditch. But she's brilliant."
"Your friend vill do great things, I think," Krum mused. "I very much vish to be there to see it, even if ve are only friends. She has several years before she can leave school."
"Hermione's an incredible friend to have," Harry said loyally.
"That is vot I vas thinking," Krum nodded. He sighed heavily, glancing around the Hospital Wing. "I vill let you sleep, Potter; I must finish my letter." Harry nodded, and Krum disappeared beyond the screens. Harry tucked himself into the mattress, and somehow, he drifted off to sleep, this time too exhausted for nightmares.
On Monday morning, Harry's scar started burning as it hadn't since the night Lord Voldemort rose again. He was working his way through his second plateful of breakfast - sausages, bacon, scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, fried bread, baked beans and black pudding, which Sirius kept stealing from the plate - when his head started throbbing, and searing pain hit him like an anvil, coupled with a vicious kind of cold anger that made his hands shake. He kneaded his forehead, avoiding the searching look Sirius gave him, and tucked into his fried tomatoes.
Harry found out why Voldemort was so angry a few moments later, when Hermione burst into the Hospital Wing, her hair flying, eyes bright, startling Harry, and holding a newspaper in her hand.
She thrust the paper at Harry, breathlessly ordering him, "Read it! I can't believe it!" She was practically dancing, she was so giddy. Ron had just caught up, panting, as he sank into a chair.
"Let the man finish his breakfast!" Ron said indignantly, as Hermione brandished the newspaper again, actually taking the cutlery out of Harry's hands to ensure his focus was diverted.
"What's happened?"
"The Department of Magical Law Enforcement - they've walked out of the Ministry."
"What?" They all jumped, even Sirius, and glanced around. Harry's screens had been removed, and now they had an unimpeded view of the ward. Professor Moody was propped against a mound of pillows, eyeing his own breakfast tray suspiciously. He had woken last night, and Harry had been jolted from sleep by the paranoid Auror trying to hex everything in sight using his wooden leg. Madam Pomfrey had felt it prudent to keep Mad-Eye's wand out of reach until he left the Hospital Wing, though Mad-Eye had calmed considerably after Dumbledore paid him a visit. They had sat behind screens for a good couple of hours; Harry couldn't hear a word.
"Er - good morning, Professor," Hermione said uncertainly.
"Never got round to much teaching, did I?" Moody grumbled. He had yet to put his magical eye back in, but the scarred old Auror was still an intimidating sight to behold.
"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked kindly.
"Irritable. That newspaper, girl, is that The Prophet?"
"The Phoenix, sir," Hermione said, lifting her chin slightly.
"Get over here and read it aloud," Moody said, beckoning her over to the chair beside his bed. Harry and Ron exchanged a look, and clambered across the wing to settle in chairs around the Auror's bed. His breakfast was untouched.
"Not hungry, Professor?" Ron said hopefully, eyeing the sausages.
"Here," Harry said, understanding, and reaching out, he cut up some bacon and eggs and ate them, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. He set the cutlery down, handles toward Moody, and lifted his gaze to Moody's. His one natural eye was focused on Harry, and he scowled dangerously.
"You're just like James," he said finally, gruffly, and turned to his breakfast with an enthusiasm that rivalled Ron's. "The paper - read it aloud, girl. What's happened?"
Breathless, excitable, Hermione calmed down only long enough to read through the eleven pages' worth of articles on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement breaking with the Ministry.
It was a coup. Led by Amelia Bones, the Head of Department, now restyled the Chief of Magical Law Enforcement, the Department had severed ties with the Ministry, to operate as a bureau of criminal investigation and defence of the nation's wizarding community, independent of the other Departments, and no longer beholden to the Minister for Magic. Checks were already being put into place to ensure that neither the Minister, nor the elected Chief of Magical Law Enforcement, could ever abuse their authority over Magical Law Enforcement.
The Auror Office, headed by Rufus Scrimgeour, had led the walkout of the Aurors to their new premises, a new headquarters with a separate training Academy and barracks, and Madam Bones and Scrimgeour were quoted as already being in consultation with foreign wizards who specialised in reinforcing magical prisons that were both secure and maintained a high standard of living. There would also be a new, specialised unit within the Auror Office, the Behavioural Analysis Unit, the brightest minds and most able Aurors devoted to tracking down the worst of the worst, using psychological profiling - a Muggle investigative technique, Hermione told them smugly, one adapted and introduced by Ellaria Scamander, a worldwide authority on the subject and much sought after for her expertise and intervention, lecturing at schools and Auror training academies and governing bodies all over the world.
The prison system was going to undergo drastic changes, Madam Bones declared, with the support and ingenuity of the members of the Wizengamot and Magical Law Enforcement. The punishment would now, Madam Bones was quoted as saying, fit the crime.
The Wizengamot had already voted on the legality of the use of Veritaserum on witches and wizards held in custody when national security was compromised. The new law had been passed only yesterday in an astonishing vote, in response to Barty Crouch Jr's testimony, which had been recounted to the Wizengamot; the transcript had been printed in The Phoenix, in full, in the evening edition, complete with photographs, professional analysis, and a piece on Crouch's original trial.
Harry hadn't yet seen Neville; his parents' fates had been discussed in detail in the article about Crouch's original arrest.
Apparently a group of seventh-year Gryffindors had tried to hex Cleitus Lestrange, for his parents' part in torturing Neville's parents to insanity.
"Emphasis on tried," Ron said, and Hermione nodded, her eyes wide.
"He's always so polite and laidback, I was actually quite shocked - he can duel. Properly," Hermione said, looking impressed. The look faded from her face, replaced by something very sad, and almost ashamed. "He asked us about Neville…you know…how he's doing… None of us had any idea."
Hermione had told Harry that last night, she and Ron had gone to find Neville, who hadn't wanted to talk about his parents, or the newspaper articles, or Crouch having been masquerading as their teacher, but had listened solemnly when Ron told him about his uncles, who had both been murdered during the War.
Harry sighed, thinking of Neville, and of the Lestranges. They had been listed by the Ministry as some of the few highest-security prisoners in Azkaban who were not to be relocated to a new prison, built on the Island of Drear, which was Unplottable, safe from Muggles, and home to the dangerous carnivorous magical creatures, Quintapeds, to deter escapees. Magic would protect the island, only, unlike Hogwarts, it would prevent inmates from getting out, rather than other people getting in.
It was Madam Bones' hope that in the very near future, Azkaban would be needed only for top-security prisoners, the very worst - Hermione likened it to Nurmengard Castle, the former stronghold and now prison of the Dark wizard Grindewald.
Dementors were being phased out of Azkaban: Quite a large article was devoted to analysing the devastating consequences of Dementor attacks during Lord Voldemort's reign of terror, and the wisdom of removing Dementors from positions of power over Lord Voldemort's most dangerous followers.
And, perhaps most importantly of all, a constitutional Conclave had been created: It invited representatives of wizards, goblins, centaurs, and other magical part-humans and magical races, to gather together and create a governing body.
"It sounds very like the Houses of Parliament," Hermione said thoughtfully, reading aloud. "'Established political parties voted in by the public, acting on the needs and desires of the collective Wizarding community, and a chosen leader within the elected party to act as Minister for Magic'. That's interesting. 'Should the Minister for Magic prove unequal to their great burden, be it through age, illness or ineptitude' - well, Fudge wouldn't last long, would he? - 'the Party remains, and may nominate another member to lead the Nation until the next election'. It says here that voting age will be set at seventeen, for wizards at least…they're in direct liaison with several part-human and other magical races about getting representation within the Conclave!"
"Amelia finally did it," Moody rumbled, and they glanced at the scarred Auror. He was staring inscrutably at the newspaper, which showed Madam Bones' stern face gazing back at them. "Good for her… Good for us."
"She does sound like she knows what she's doing," Hermione said, almost fondly, closing the newspaper finally, to gaze at the photograph.
"I met her, the other night," Harry said. "She's - well, she's a bit like McGonagall. You know, she's Susan's aunt. In Hufflepuff."
"Susan Bones - of course! I wonder if she had any clue… I doubt it, this has come as a shock to everyone, Madam Bones doesn't seem the type to gossip over brandy after a family dinner - Ron, your father's Office is in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, isn't it?"
"Uh - yeah. But it's not very big, it's only Dad and old Perkins," Ron said, shrugging. "They won't've interviewed Dad about anything important -"
"They did," Harry said quietly, examining one of the back pages of the newspaper.
"What?! Hermione, you didn't say -"
"Where, Harry?"
"Right here, see - it's about the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, your dad's talking about retaining strong ties with the Muggle Liaison Office, and he's asked for funding for a bigger team - it's a job spec," Harry said, passing the newspaper to Hermione so Ron could look over her shoulder.
"He's asking for young witches and wizards fresh from Hogwarts, preferably half-bloods or Muggle-borns who know modern Muggle technology - well, at least they got the term correct," Hermione said, sighing softly. "Your dad is quoted as saying, 'Muggle technology is advancing with leaps and bounds, to the point where a good deal of their day-to-day tasks are carried out by artefacts which, to Wizard kind, are unrecognisable and even absurd. To prevent malicious intent or accidental harm toward Muggles with these artefacts, we must learn all we can to remain one step ahead and prevent any breach of the International Statute of Secrecy, increasingly more difficult in this new modern age. I have asked our new Chief of Magical Law Enforcement for consideration of the expansion of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, and am delighted that Madam Bones has agreed. Anyone interested in lending their knowledge of Muggle artefacts should send their curriculum vitae via owl…'"
"It's only ever been Dad and Perkins - and their office is the size of a broom-cupboard…actually, I think it is a broom-cupboard," Ron said, narrowing his eyes. "Madam Bones actually gave him funding to expand the Office?"
"I should think so, too; and your dad's quite right, Muggle technology is advancing at an alarming rate, you wouldn't believe it," Hermione said. "The world is becoming so much smaller because of it, it'll make it easier to uphold the Statute of Secrecy if wizards can recognise the danger of an iPhone when they're trying to Apparate. You can Obliviate someone but their phone automatically uploads photographs and videos to a Cloud to back them up, so you've always got them saved and backed up. And that's nothing to say of government surveillance in cities like London. Wizards have a lot of catching up to do if they want to get ahead of Muggle technology. I wonder how much interest Mr Weasley will get. They might even have to liaise with the Magical Catastrophes office, you know, for the big stuff."
"Mum's gonna explode; I don't think Dad's ever even had a pay-rise," Ron said, flushing as Professor Moody scowled at him.
"Your father's Arthur Weasley, is he?"
"Er…yeah."
"Good man, Arthur," Moody nodded. "You, girl, read that bit about the Auror Office again, the new premises."
"Well, it doesn't say much, only that it's located somewhere just beyond St Michael's Mount in Cornwall, on a tiny Unplottable tidal island," Hermione said, turning back to one of the larger articles. "A castle was built there in the Middle Ages; the Department got hold of the premises twenty years ago when the family that owned it died out - thanks to You-Know-Who - there's a small article on the family, and their murders during the War, god they're gruesome… A special team has been working on making the premises ready for habitation for the last three years, in total secrecy, because of the magical fail-safes and counter-curses and protections put in place. They haven't disclosed the location of the Auror Academy -"
"With good reason," Moody grunted.
"-but the rest of Magical Law Enforcement offices will find their homes in a Jacobean manor-house in Yorkshire," Hermione continued, as if she hadn't been interrupted. "There's a photograph - it's very beautiful, I must say. The Wizengamot will return to its former home, when it was still the Wizards' Council - that'll be in Edinburgh, of course; and the Conclave will have its House in Windsor. Also, there will be the equivalent of 10 Downing Street for the Minister for Magic, which will serve as both their home and the base of operations for their Party. Lovely. I hope they curate a halfway decent library."
Madam Pomfrey bustled over, telling them it was time for Professor Moody to take more of his potions, so they retreated to Harry's bed to continue their chat.
"Read what Madam Bones said about Fudge again," he said, as Hermione settled in her customary chair with the newspaper.
Hermione cleared her throat, seeking the article, and Harry listened carefully as Hermione read out, "'The incompetency, and bullish refusal to act on a very dire warning, ignoring a rare and unprecedented opportunity to the public and to the governing bodies of Great Britain to prevent catastrophe before it can strike, was the deciding factor in Magical Law Enforcement's decision to renounce all loyalty to Cornelius Fudge, and to remove the Department from the London-based Ministry of Magic. Law Enforcement should hold everyone, especially its elected officials, to account for decisions made which affect the nation. For the first time in nearly fourteen years, the British wizarding public are confronted with the reality that Lord Voldemort has returned to a corporeal body, and returned to Great Britain… Whether he returns to power is up to us. I ask the British public to stand by Magical Law Enforcement, and by each other, to prevent that ever happening again'."
"She certainly makes an impact," Harry said.
"But she's not Minister for Magic, is she?" Ron frowned.
"No, Fudge still has the job - though without the might of Magical Law Enforcement behind him, it'll be interesting to see how long he lasts," Hermione said, sniffing lightly. Harry had managed to get a moment with Ron and Hermione without anyone around, and told them about Fudge's tantrum in Dumbledore's office. "Every Department in the Ministry was answerable to Magical Law Enforcement; if they're a separate body, Fudge won't be able to lean on them. And especially as the Wizengamot has separated from the Ministry. And the establishment of this Conclave should do an extraordinary amount of good, you know. It'll represent what the people want, and be much more egalitarian. More people have the opportunity to affect change in government. Fudge won't last long, not when people have the opportunity to vote for who they want representing them. After this, no-one will have any respect for Fudge, if they did to begin with. Perhaps the Wizengamot will rescind the Order of Merlin, First Class that he lavished upon himself… Do you remember how he was toward the Bulgarian Minister at the Quidditch World Cup? He should've had a translator, or made the effort to learn some of the language - or even performed a charm to translate for him as he spoke…"
"You can do that?" Harry asked, blinking. It had never occurred to him. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.
"Of course! Viktor was wonderful, allowing me to test out the charms. Some of his friends at Durmstrang are Russian and Polish and Austrian, and the spell worked beautifully with all of them," Hermione said. "Of course, that particular charm only works on verbal communication, not written; I'm still looking for one that'll translate my letters, but until then it's been very interesting, learning Bulgarian."
"Have time to chat, do you?" Ron asked, giving Hermione a deceptively benign smile. His eyes glittered as he caught Harry's eye, smirking.
"Yes, Ron, we do. You don't become an International Quidditch Player by wasting time, do you? No, you manage your time effectively," Hermione said lightly, but her cheeks flushed pink as Ron sniggered; he could find an innuendo in a nunnery. Hermione caught Harry's eye, blushing and embarrassed, but he just shrugged.
"Have you decided yet, whether you're going to visit him?"
"Well…I've just had a letter back from Mum and Dad…they're not especially keen on me going to stay with an older boy they've not even met, obviously," Hermione said. "And they've booked holiday in France, my sister's really looking forward to it."
"Oh, Ursula?" Harry asked, and Hermione nodded. "How is she?"
"She's been practicing her French, apparently," Hermione said. "So she can ask for what she'd like at the pâtisserie by herself - she's been saving her pocket-money, or you know Mum and Dad wouldn't want her eating all those sweets. But Mrs Weasley says if I'd really like to go, she'll be my chaperone, she's already written to my parents. Mum and Dad would feel much more comfortable with that arrangement."
"My mum - "
"Yes, she's offered to travel with me to Bulgaria, sort of get the lay of the land with Viktor's family so my parents won't worry, and leave me there for a few days while she visits Charlie in Romania," Hermione said, glancing at Ron, rolling her eyes as if this was the third time she had told Ron all this, which it probably was.
"Why's Mum going to Romania?"
"Well…" Here, Hermione glanced around the Hospital Wing. She dropped her voice when she murmured, "I think it's for Dumbledore, you know…on business for the Order of the Phoenix."
"That makes sense," Harry nodded. "Dumbledore mentioned we'll need as many foreign wizards on our side as we can get."
"And it's perfect, really, Mrs Weasley will be visiting Viktor's family, I think from what Viktor's mentioned, Dumbledore's asked them to join, too," Hermione said in an undertone. "So Mrs Weasley will be able to pass on information to Viktor's family, and their contacts, and she can let Charlie know what's going on, so he can start making contacts too."
"Explains why Bill's gone straight back to Egypt," Ron said gloomily; Bill was the favourite eldest brother, of course. Ginny had been deeply upset that she hadn't gotten to spend more time with him before he had disappeared after the Third Task.
"Yes - and Bill's perfectly situated to bring in all sorts of really powerful, highly-trained witches and wizards," Hermione said. "Curse-breakers are nothing to sniff at."
"Dumbledore won't let us join the Order," Ron said. "The twins were gung-ho, but he's told them that only adult wizards who have left Hogwarts will be permitted to join."
"Yeah, well, even Dumbledore wouldn't dare cross your mum," Harry said, and Ron grinned. "When did the twins tell you that?"
"Fred told us, when we went down to the kitchens with them the other night, to visit Winky," Hermione said, and Ron rolled his eyes.
"How is she?"
"Oh…well…it's hit her very hard, you know…it's one thing to hear someone so close to you has died, but to learn it was Mr Crouch's son who murdered him in cold blood…she looked after them all those years…" Hermione sighed, and they all exchanged subdued looks. Harry sighed, remembering Winky in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, sobbing that she "is loving them all of my life", holding onto the chocolate Ellaria had given her, the silver chain Ellaria had conjured, glaring down anyone who approached…he remembered Mrs Weasley trying to console her. He remembered Dumbledore's courtesy to her, and his admiration for her loyalty.
He made sure to tell Hermione it all again, just in case he hadn't before.
"Well…I suppose not all wizards who have house-elves are Lucius Malfoy," she admitted grudgingly. "I still think it is morally reprehensible - but at least Dumbledore treats the Hogwarts elves with compassion - and dignity."
"And remember, Dobby beat him down when Dumbledore wanted to pay him ten Galleons a week," Harry said fairly.
"Maybe I should get a job in the Hogwarts kitchens," Ron said offhandedly, and Hermione glared at him.
A.N.: Ta-da… I was always impressed with Madam Bones, even though we saw so little of her. She's one of those background characters that I would've loved to see more; like Florean Fortescue, and Tonks, and Charlie Weasley, and Remus, and Neville and his gran, and Madam Rosmerta…the list goes on… So Madam Bones is the BAMF who takes control of Magical Law Enforcement and catastrophically derails Voldemort's plans.