Chapter Three

The Fugitive

The village of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts was under siege. Minerva McGonagall had inherited the position of Headmistress of Hogwarts after Dumbledore's death. The Ministry and the new Minister were also under attack. Scrimgeour stood in Dumbledore's office and studied the portrait of the old headmaster, while McGonagal who was seated, not behind the massive cluttered desk, but in front of a cold blackened fireplace, listened to what he was saying.

"Minerva, I cannot fight a war on a half dozen fronts. Please do not make this any more difficult than it already is," Scrimgeour said bitterly and turned to her.

"Do you want me to make it easy for you Minister?" McGonagall said and sipped at her tea nonchalantly. "You are asking me to take that dreadful woman back here and install her as a teacher once again. She'll turn this into a military school and she'll torture any student who is not pureblood, IF they return at all. I would rather close the school than let such a thing happen." She was talking about his suggestion of bringing back Delores Umbridge.

"It is not within your power to close this school, Minerva," Scrimgeour said bluntly and strolled in front of her and the fireplace. "Do you not understand that I am losing control of the situation." He shook his head and frowned severely at her. He hated admitting it and especially to this woman who had been a close friend of Dumbledore's.

She stared up at him and nodded. "I understand very well, Minister. However, if you do this then I might as well open the doors and invite Voldemort in. He will manage the school like a puppet on strings anyway." She sat the teacup down. "No. I'll turn away and set the locks on the doors myself before I let it happen."

"Perhaps that would be best anyway," Scrimgeour said and straightened his posture as she glared up at him. He remembered having been a student of hers and knew she was stubborn and strong-willed. He knew even as he disapparated from his office to walk up the path to the front entrance of the school that he would make no headway with her.

"Very well!" she said and stood to walk to the window and gaze out on the grounds. Hogwarts had never been closed since the founding wizard and witches had set the first stone in its walls.

"Minerva," he coaxed. "Is that what you want?" He studied the room once again. "You know the Board will want to keep it open and they will just replace you and any teacher who fights against it. It is not something I can stop right now. I am trying to keep them from taking over the Ministry. The pressure is tremendous!" This time his voice was less stern and even a little pleading. He cringed at the sound of it. "Voldemort wants Hogwarts as his headquarters. At least if it remains a school that will slow him down."

"So be it, Minister," she said and turned to him. "No one can have this school as long as there are people still loyal to Dumbledore. Let them come."

He shook his head and picked up his hat and traveling cape. "What about the other. I know Dumbledore was actively involved in trying to destroy Voldemort. Did he know anything about this underground organization they are talking about in the Daily Prophet?"

McGonagall smiled slightly and her eyes narrowed. "We had a close working relationship

but he would not have confided that information to me."

He knew she was lying and admired her for it, but also felt some anxiety for her. She was an old woman and a stay in Azkaban would be a death sentence for her. He tried one more time to convince his old teacher, "Minerva, I am trying to protect you. There will be others who will...question...you." He sighed. "It might be wise for you to leave the country for awhile."

McGonagall laughed and huffed a little as she moved slowly across the room to stand before him. "Do you think I am afraid, Rufus? Have you ever known me to be afraid?"

He studied her green-gray eyes over his own glasses and shook his head in exasperation. "They'll take you Minerva and they'll torture you and you'll die a hard death in Azkaban. I cannot stop it. If I stay in office and compromise a little I can manage some of this. But I cannot protect you. I would be removed immediately and trust me someone else will take my place. Malfoy probably."

She nodded sympathetically and said, "So let us get on with our jobs and see if we can stop this deluge. By the way, Rufus, I understand you have a grandson who will be starting Hogwarts this coming term."

Her eyes searched his face and he felt himself cringe once again. It felt like he had never grown up and left her classroom. "Yes, I do." He turned away from her, not wanting her to see the anger and embarrassment on his face. "We've never needed an army like the muggles have Madam McGonagall and all the wizarding world have been proud of the fact. Now, I fear it will be our downfall. I am but one man and Voldemort is going to cut through this land like a wand through a daffodil field all because there will be no one to oppose him.

"If Albus banded together with others to fight Voldemort and you are aware of who they are, then it would behoove you to call them to arms." He stopped and looked up once again at the portraits of the old headmasters who were listening intently and then at the sleeping portrait of Dumbledore. He shook his head. He and Dumbledore had been at odds with one another for many years. "And find that Potter boy if you can. He's important for some reason and he's gone missing." He heard her sharp intake of breath and knew the news surprised her. "They want him rather badly I'm afraid," he added just as he left the office.

He strolled through the castle on the way to the front gates and stopped periodically to touch something, or relive an old memory as he stood in front of an empty classroom. The corridors and rooms were vacant and not even a ghost appeared to float by. "Farewell my love," he said softly to the empty school, glancing back once into the dim light of the front entrance hall and then stepped through the large front doors and out into the sunlight.

…...

The vagabond creature who had sat on the cobblestone steps in the shade and shadows; the filthy rags reeking of odd odors suddenly moved and a tall man stood and glanced around. The hair was oily and lank and black and framed a pale face with black eyes. Snape was a master of disguise and had done a fairly meticulous job of transfiguring his features so that he was not recognizable. He placed his hand on the door of the bookshop and pushed as he looked over his shoulder and stepped in.

…..

Hermione continued to read the paper feeling more horrified as she skimmed along. The Daily Prophet's second edition of the day was more gloomy then the last. "This is rubbish!" she exclaimed to Crookshanks who lay at the end of her bed and watched her. The cat always seemed to have a rather smug expression on his face.

She squashed the paper with her fists and looked frantically around her room. Since arriving home, her belongings had been put away, her magical items stored neatly in her trunk at the end of her bed. It took her less then ten minutes to change, pack and put Crookshanks in his basket. The neatly written letter to her parents was on her table and she was out the door into the afternoon sun. People were out mowing lawns and barbequing on their grills and the street seemed busy and friendly. She studied the area around her and when she felt it was safe as she made a half turn, there was a faint pop! and she disappeared.

A pair of eyes watched the whole thing from across the street in the alleyway and as soon as the figure saw Hermione disappear there was another faint pop! and they, too, disapparated.

….

The Knight bus stopped abruptly on a country lane. Harry had been studying the ceiling of the bus still in shock over what he had discovered. He rose up and looked out of the dusty windows. The lane was lined by several houses of white and an unpaved road ran in front of them shaded by large overhanging trees.

Ernie opened the door, gumming his lips and nodded to Harry. "Ere it is."

Harry stared out and frowned. This is it? he wondered to himself. It hardly looked like anything.

Ernie seemed to read his mind and pointed his index finger straight ahead. "Over yonder hill is the big house. It's an estate ye see. Country squire owned it once't. Lil' pub over there. Ye'll be alrigh'" He nodded reassuringly and waited for Harry to pull his trunk out the door and step out.

"Thanks," Harry said with reservation. "I guess." He was standing in the road and the sun was beating down on him. It was late afternoon but still very warm and everything around him was overgrown with wild grasses and flowers so that his nose filled with the heady aroma of summer.

Ernie tipped a finger against an invisible hat, closed the door and the bus immediately disappeared in a wake of dust.

Harry held his breath until it settled and then squinted at the area around him. He was just about to start walking towards the three houses lined up in a row when he saw a figure coming towards him. It was a woman dressed in a summer frock. Harry squinted against the low bright sunlight, held a hand to his brow to shade his eyes and suddenly grinned.

Hermione!