St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries spent most of that day being very much not overflowing with Ministry officials. But then, all of a sudden, it was.
The patient had been rushed through the hallways in a blur of healers, Aurors and onlookers. They cleared an entire ward for what St Mungo's staff were only told was a person of interest. It didn't matter why he was of interest to the Ministry of Magic, all that mattered was that they were tasked with keeping him alive.
Nevertheless, after a relatively quiet day, the hospital was now crawling with Ministry staff. It took Hermione a good twenty minutes just to get close to the closed ward, even with a Ministry ID. And when she did make it onto that corridor, crammed with Government officials talking hurriedly about what procedure said they should do next and who should give the press statement and those sort of things; what she saw just about broke her heart.
He was sat on a bench outside of a room at the end of the hall, slumped against the wall, staring blankly ahead. Looking as though the source of everything terrible that had ever happened in the world could be traced right back to him. She never thought she'd have to see Harry looking like this again. Not after Hogwarts.
She pushed her way over to him.
"Hi."
He looked up at her, and for a brief second seemed so happy to see a familiar face. But that soon faded.
"He's dead, Hermione. They couldn't save him."
Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a tender squeeze. She briefly searched for perfect words, settling on: "Let's get some tea."
They apparated back to the Ministry, and Hermione led Harry to her department's offices, directing him towards her cubicle while she fetched their drinks. It was here that the day's events; the arrest, interrogation and tragic death of Duggy Dungonan; should have fully hit him, but that isn't what happened.
Instead, Harry found himself staring at a featureless face. Sitting in the chair at Hermione's desk was some sort of mannequin, the pale plastic of the dummy clashing horribly with the ghastly uniform it had been dressed in. It was a blazer and skirt combination, coloured with the brownest of browns and the brightest green. And despite his harrowing afternoon, Harry somehow ended up gazing at this poor creature in sadness until he heard Hermione gasp at the sight of it.
"Terrence, I've told you before, that's not funny!"
She steadied the two steaming mugs she'd almost dropped and sent a death glare over the walls of her cubicle. Her colleague, Terrence, hastily came around to heave the dummy out of her chair, a big grin playing across his face as he did.
"Sorry, I just thought if you got used to it you wouldn't mind it so much."
Harry quirked an eyebrow as Hermione sat in her vacated chair.
"What was that?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Our new uniform, or so they're proposing. I'll die a death before I give in to that demonic thing. Anyway, never mind that."
Harry again felt the sting of Duggy's death, momentarily forgotten but back with a vengeance. Hermione handed him his mug with a worried look.
"What happened, Harry?"
Harry shrugged. "Yip was one step ahead of us. He always has been. He knew what we were trying to pull with Knockturn Alley, and turned it against us. Forced polyjuice potion on Duggy, put him under the Imperius curse to surrender himself without a fight. Duggy had a bad heart anyway. It couldn't take the transformation from the polyjuice, and then trying to fight off the Imperius curse as well...it just gave out on him."
Hermione leant forward to put her hand over his.
"This wasn't your fault." she said.
Harry ignored this. "The trail's gone cold. Yip could be anywhere, he could be conjuring himself inside Hogwarts any day and we're in no position to stop him."
"But Harry," said Hermione, patting his hand. "This wasn't your fault."
Harry sighed. Hermione always saw right through him. But then the other thing gnawing at Harry came to mind.
"There's more," he said, dropping his gaze. "Something I haven't told you. Or anyone."
Hermione squeezed his hand again gently. "What?"
Harry hesitated. He had a feeling how Hermione might react, and yet he needed to get this off his chest before it burst out of it.
"When we arrested Yip," he started, "or who we thought was Yip, anyway - something happened in Knockturn Alley. There was a face, looking at me from inside Garlin's."
"I thought Garlin's has closed down," said Hermione, puzzled.
Harry nodded. "It has. But someone was in there. Or something."
Her mood evaporated like the steam coming from their mugs. Before he knew it her hand had left his, and she slowly drew back to sit up straight in her chair.
"Something?" she repeated.
"I couldn't see very well, I could only make out a face. But like weirdly shaped? And metal – made of metal! Then later, just before Duggy..." Harry stumbled. That wound was still fresh. "I asked Duggy who Yip was working with, who was paying him to get inside Hogwarts. And all he could say was that they were men made of metal."
Hermione said nothing. She was just staring at Harry pointedly. He paused, and decided that maybe he needed to drive his point home.
"Hermione, I think this – Duggy, and Yip, and whatever the metal men are, and Hogwarts– it's all got something to do - "
"It has nothing to do with the lights."
She had cut him off so swiftly that Harry could only stare at her for a second, mouth still stuck in the middle of his sentence.
"How can you just say that?" he asked.
"Because it just doesn't, Harry. You're doing it again. You're doing exactly what we talked about yesterday."
"Things have changed quite a bit since yesterday," came his offended retort. "A man was just murdered in front of me!"
"You are an Auror now," Hermione replied, just as heatedly. "That's going to be happening from time to time, and when it does you can't turn it into some big conspiracy."
The sound of flapping wings cut short their escalating argument before either said what they really wanted to. A small tawny owl flew into the office and soared over to Harry, where it dropped an envelope in his lap. He quickly opened it and frowned at what he saw.
"What?" asked Hermione.
"It's from Ron and Ginny," he said.
As the letter instructed, they quickly left the Ministry and apparated to the fields around Harry's cottage. When they reached the house, they found Ron and Ginny sitting on the step outside his front door.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, seeing how grim both Weasleys looked.
"Harry," said Ginny, startled. Both she and Ron jumped to their feet. "Harry I was letting myself in but the door was already open. And when I saw, I sent for Ron and we... oh, Harry, I'm sorry."
Ron merely stepped aside and pushed lightly on Harry's door. It opened with noticeable ease, and then Harry saw where the handle once had been, which was now a burnt-black hole.
Inside, Harry's house had been trashed. From top to bottom, everything that wasn't nailed down had been torn from it's place and tossed across the room. The table in his kitchen had been over turned, the shelves in his lounge had been ripped out, and the mattress in his bedroom had been thrown against the wall. And yet, as he surveyed the mess, he noticed something.
"Nothing's been taken," he said, coming back downstairs into the living room, where the other three were attempting a clean up.
"Well, that's something," said Ginny softly.
"No, I wasn't pointing out the bright side. I'm saying it doesn't make any sense. Who breaks into a house, turns it upside down, then doesn't take anything?"
Ginny and Hermione gave each other that infuriatingly patronizing look from opposite ends of the living room.
"If you think I'm being crazy," said Harry crossly, "just come out and say it."
"Harry, look," Ginny started, but Harry quickly cut her off, crossing the room to point out the drawers that had been torn away and emptied, with their contents now lying on the floor next to them.
"If nothing is gone then it means that whoever did this came here looking for something in particular, and they weren't leaving until they were positive they weren't going to find it."
"Harry," said Hermione sharply, coming to stand right in front of him. "Think this through. Think of all the logical reasons, each more likely than whatever it is you're concocting. You're still a very public figure, you're on the front page when you go out for milk. People get really excited at the thought of you. Isn't it entirely more probable that some fans found out where you live and things got out of hand? Or that burglars remembered they were robbing the Boy Who Lived and got spooked? You can't just jump to the assumption that this all something to do with strange lights, aliens and the Doctor."
Harry clenched his jaw and turned away, lest he say something rash in an effort to defend himself. There was a broken photo frame lying at his feet. He picked it up, and found himself looking at his mother and father. They gazed at him lovingly, and his father gave him a reassuring nod. Harry gripped the edges of the photo.
"If I know anything," he said, "after all this time, it's when to spot red flags. And this is a big, massive, flying one. First the lights, then the Doctor after all this time, then Duggy, then whatever I saw in Garlin's." Hermione, to his frustration, was shaking her head in denial. "It's all part of something Hermione! Something is happening around me, and I don't like it."
Hermione took a deep, long breath to calm herself, and turned to her boyfriend for assistance. "Ron, please, try and talk sense to him."
Ron shrugged as he turned Harry's couch the right way up. "Actually, I'm with Harry on this one."
Simultaneously, Hermione yelled "What?!" while Harry cried "Yes!", and he ran over to hi-five his best friend.
"Ron, how can you say that?" asked Ginny.
"Look, I trust his instinct," said Ron confidently. "The lights were one thing, Hermione, but all this... I don't know. If he says something's about to go down, I believe him. And with everything that's happened, how much of a coincidence is it really that the Doctor suddenly pops up again?"
"This is madness," mumbled Hermione. At the mention of the Doctor, however, Ginny's mouth had very much remained closed, and she too started to question the chances of this all being happenstance.
"Thanks, buddy," said Harry happily.
Ron grinned. "No problem, mate."
"Oh yes," said Hermione. "What friend wouldn't help his bestie to be pointlessly paranoid? Shall Ginny and I go and round up some more wild geese for us to chase after we're done with this one?"
"Actually, Hermione," said Ginny slowly, "if Harry says he's sure, then maybe there is..."
That was the last straw.
"Okay, I'm going home," Hermione snapped. "I won't listen to another word of this."
She had turned and started storming for the door when Harry stopped her.
"Everything that's happened to us," he said. "Everything we've been through. You stood by me for every single second of it. Even if sometimes you didn't understand, or think I was going about it the right way. You trusted me. Why won't you trust me on this?"
"Because we're not at war anymore, Harry!"
There was silence. Harry stood in the corner of the room, taken aback. Hermione stood by the door, breathing heavily and past the point of keeping her thoughts to herself. Ron and Ginny, stunned, could only look between the too.
"We fought," said Hermione. "We fought, and we fought, and we fought. And then we won. And now it's over. No more vendettas, no more prophecies, no more destiny. You're not public enemy number one anymore, you're just a normal person. A normal person who has break-ins. A normal person who sees strange things now and then and leaves them be. A normal person who runs into old friends after so many years."
"So basically," said Harry, "you want me to just sit around in my cottage, is that it? Grow wheat and tend corn and be a farmer? Well I'm not, I'm an Auror, and because of that - "
Ron took a step forward. "Okay maybe we should leave this conversation until everyone's a bit more -"
"This has nothing to do with you being an Auror," Hermione countered, "and you know it. This is about you not being able to move on. You are stuck in a wartime mentality and it's not healthy. Why do you think you're so desperate to meet the Doctor again, Harry? Because you know he only brings chaos! And you don't know how to function outside of chaos!"
Harry looked livid. "How can you even say that to me! You know first hand all I ever wanted was - !"
"Okay's that's enough!" said Ginny firmly. Both of their voices had reached a volume that she and Ron were not comfortable with, and clearly they had to step in. She grabbed Harry by the hand. "Let's go upstairs, okay? Calm down a bit."
Harry looked at her, then glanced back to Hermione, who now had Ron by her side also. She stared back, almost daring him to keep arguing. Ginny squeezed his hand silently, and he gave in. Together, they walked across the room and towards the stairs. And as he put his foot on the first step, Harry was relieved the situation had been stopped before someone said something they couldn't take back.
"This is what Voldemort wanted."
Too late.
Harry had frozen in place. Ginny had turned back to gawk at Hermione, just as Ron was doing, as if unable to believe such a thing could come from her mouth. But Hermione wasn't finished.
"Till his last breath," she said, "he tried to take any chance of a normal life away from you. He tried to make sure that you never got to live anything other than pain and suffering, or a life outside of him and his war. And I just can't stand by now and watch you take that from yourself. People gave too much, Harry."
Harry still hadn't moved. Hermione waited. Her fire was all used up, leaving her only able stare at him silently, hopefully, desperately praying she'd somehow gotten through to him. But when Harry did turn back to her, it was with the most painfully digusted look he'd ever stared at anyone with.
"I think it's time for you to get out of my house."
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. She could do no more. The three of them watched her open the door and leave without another word. Harry stayed where he was until he heard the crack of her apparating, then he went upstairs.
"Bloody hell," Ginny breathed. "Have you ever seen Hermione and Harry argue like that?"
Ron shook his head sadly. "It was coming, though."
"How do you mean?"
"Hermione's been worried about Harry for a long time now. About how he copes with everything that's happened to him. She reads books on war survivors and their mental states. But she's never talked about it like that."
They each found themselves gazing in the direction their signifcant others had left, but when Ginny heard Ron going for the door, she had to ask something.
"Ron," said Ginny carefully. "Listen, about the Doctor."
Ron gave her a scolding look. "Seriously, Ginny? Now?"
"Just tell me this one thing, please. The Doctor, what did he look like?"
Ron shrugged. "I don't know... young fella. Big, floppy hair. Wore a bow-tie and a tweed jacket."
Ginny frowned deeply. "You're sure?"
"Of course I'm sure," he replied. "Why?"
Ginny opened her mouth, ready to explain. Then she looked to the door, where Hermione had been.
"No reason," she said.
Eccentric Elixrs was a mess. And while the same could be said for every shop in Knockturn Alley, the others were not being extensively robbed by a man ready for life on the run.
Yip the Yelper had searched every inch of his old 'pal' Duggy's pride and joy. He had taken anything he thought he might be able to make a profit on, and the rest had bee thrown aside. Smashed potion bottles littered the already grubby floor as he gathered up all his acquisitions in a big sack. He was giving the place one last look, when his eyes fell upon an empty vial he had left on the counter. It was the vial which had held the polyjuice potion he'd forced on Duggy Dungonan earlier that day, before cursing him into being arrested for Yip's own crimes.
And though it might have been terribly cliché, he found himself laughing. He laughed the cruellest of laughs, in the dark, empty and now barren potions shop, endlessly amused by the predicament his old drinking buddy must be in. Perhaps he was already en route to Azkaban, while Yip made off to pull one last big job (the biggest of jobs) before taking a well earned retirement.
"Here's to ya, Duggy," he said to one in particular. "You were a backstabber in the end, anyway."
He hoisted the sack up over his shoulder and turned towards the store entrance.
His path was blocked.
There, in the narrow doorway, was a man leaning against the door. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his brown overcoat, worn over a slightly-too-small pinstriped suit. His hair was all sticky-uppy. But most disconcerting to Yip the Yelper on that night, was his ridiculously large grin.
"'Allo," said the man.
Yip's hand had dove instantly for his wand, leaving the sack of valuables to drop to the floor with a unsettling crash.
"Who are you?" Yip demanded, thrusting his wand in the stranger's face.
"The Doctor," said the man brightly. "And you?"
Yip blinked. The man showed no signs of fear at the situation he found himself in – alone in the middle of the night in a deserted Knockturn Alley, at the mercy of an armed wildman.
"What are you doing here?" Yip snarled, jabbing his wand a little closer to the man's face.
The man – the Doctor, as he put it - glanced curiously at Yip's wand, inches below his nose.
"Well, it's a funny story actually, but I... sorry, why exactly are you threatening me with a small twig?"
Yip gave him a funny look. "Are you a muggle?"
Evidently these words filled a blank in the man's head, because suddenly he nodded in understanding.
"Riiight," he said. "Wizard, got it. Wand! Not twig." He shrugged. "Easy mistake."
"Shut up!" Yip spat, growing agitated now. "Now listen closely. I don't know who you are or what you want. Could have strolled in off the street or be from the bleeding Ministry of Magic itself. It doesn't matter. I'm gonna pick up this bag, and I'm gonna take my leave, and if you move a muscle, I'll curse your ears off. Got it?"
The Doctor looked puzzled. "Why the ears?" he asked. "Bit random, as far as explodable body parts go. I mean, for starters, you'd have to fire twice on target. Wouldn't the nose be a better choice?"
"Shut up!" cried Yip again.
"Alright, alright," said the Doctor. "Keep your pants on. I'm not here to stop what I'm certain was a meticulously planned robbery of this," he glanced around fleetingly. "ahem, lovely establishment. I'll get right out of your way."
Yip's eyes narrowed and the grip on his wand tightened, but the man merely shifted slowly out of the doorway, leaving it clear for his escape. Yip smirked at the man. "See you around, weirdo."
He dropped his wand, picked up the sack, and was just running out onto the street when he collided with another stranger. Only this person was carrying something in front of them.
"Doctor, never mind, I found the fishing net – oof!"
Yip the Yelper got all tangled up, tripped over his own feet, and fell to the floor in a heap, knocking himself unconscious as he did.
"Flippin' heck!" cried Rose Tyler. "Who's that?!"
The Doctor strolled out of Eccentric Elixirs and peered down at Yip's motionless body, rolled up in the old fishing net Rose had been holding. "A thief," he said breezily. "Or a would-be thief anyway. Nice catch. We'll leave him here for the proper authorities to find."
"A thief?" asked Rose. "Are we crime fighters or something now?"
The Doctor gave her a dazzling grin. "Were we ever not?"
They tied Yip securely to a lampost, and the Doctor found a discarded cardboard box which he fashioned into a tiny roof ("In case it rains. Don't want him getting a cold, do you?"). Rose scribbled "Please arrest me" onto a piece of paper and attached it to Yip's chest, and then they set off back to the TARDIS.
"You wanted to get a fishing net from here?" said Rose as they walked, giving a unimpressed look upon the shops they passed.
"Yeah," the Doctor admitted. "Good point. I'll find out where she's taking us next time, instead of just typing 'shops' into the console."
"Oh my god," said Rose suddenly. "Look at that."
She pointed upwards, and the Doctor quickly looked to the sky. The tips of the buildings leered over Knockturn Alley, but through the gap in between they could see a most unusual sight. There was a perfect formation of two dozen or so stars staring down at them. Noticeably brighter and bigger than the others in the night sky, these stars seemed to shine in the most unnatural of ways. Like a manufactured twinkle.
"What is it?" asked Rose.
"I really don't know," said the Doctor quietly. "And you know what? I'm overcome with this strange feeling that I'm not supposed to know. Not yet, anyway. You know?"
Rose chewed her lip thoughtfully. "Well, no, but in fairness I'm not a 900 year old Time Lord who's lived most of his life travelling through the endless reaches of the fourth dimension."
"That'd be why then," the Doctor nodded. Together, they gazed upon the unearthly alignment with great interest. "Still, something tells me it's not for us to worry about tonight. Allons-y."
They reached the TARDIS and Rose hurried inside, saying something about having to buy a new fishing net if they wanted to make the Art Attack exactly as they'd seen on the telly. But the Doctor hung back a second, turning his eyes once more upon the impossible sky above.
He knew they weren't stars, of course. That much was obvious. What they were coming for was another mystery all together, and one that would have to be dealt with another day, by whatever future version of himself eventually butted heads with it, this oncoming catastrophe filling up the night.
He smiled.
"I can hardly wait."
(A.N.) There was a really long wait for this chapter for two reasons. 1) I got the new Animal Crossing game and as such my life ground to a halt. 2) I couldn't decide whether Harry and Hermione were in character or not when they were arguing. I'm still not sure, honestly. But I've tinkered with it long enough. Hope you like! :D
