A/N: I hope you will endure a twinge of teen tension, it will pay off later. After some bumps in the road, of course!
Chapter 13 The End of One Conflict
December 20th
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
It was with only one day before the Solstice that she finally had a chance to speak with Harry. Hermione's other attempts to gain an advocate – speaking with Tonks and Remus – were both complete busts as both had come up with their own stubborn versions of "The adults will handle it, you're just a kid.", regardless of how nicely they phrased it. With her father away helping Arthur secure some of the muggle-born new homes before Christmas, she had no choice but to reach out to the most influential person left available.
As usual, Harry was not interested in conversation. That boy could hold a grudge! She was currently following him down the hall, trying to stop him before he disappeared into the basement.
"Just listen to me!"
The young wizard swung around so quickly Hermione almost collided with him.
He moves quick! Realizing that he was staring expectantly at her, she brushed some errant curls behind her ear and centered herself, remembering not to lecture.
"I have a plan, and old Gandalf even agrees that it's a good one."
She forged ahead, despite the flutter of hope she felt at breaking through his ever-present mask with her crack at Dumbledore. "Good enough that he's using it anyway. But I haven't been able to share all of what I know, or suspect, because... well, because. Well, you know what the Weasley twins are like, right?"
She'd done it! The mask didn't just slip, Harry Potter now stood before her fully gobsmacked. It took every ounce of self-control the young witch possessed not to laugh at his open-mouthed stare. The next second she had to reign in the indignation that grew from realizing that he must think her quite uptight: she now thought him to be astounded that she'd speak to the raucous boys. Then she had to keep from shaking her head to clear her thoughts and push forward. Sometimes her active mind even frustrated her.
Mindful of their location, she lowered her voice and continued, pleased that he leaned in a bit to hear.
"The twins gave me a way to listen in on the Order so I could keep tabs on, well, if they'd learned anything." She knew better than to bring up the name of the reason for this whole plan. "I've spent mon... well, a lot of time researching my ideas and I know I can make it work. Plus I know what the Order is planning and my ideas will only make theirs better. A lot better."
She'd gotten as much out as she dared without saying the name that brought Harry's memory directly to the who's and why's of his absence. His mask was back, but not entirely. There was curiosity in those deep green eyes, and more importantly she saw no sign of the barely restrained bitterness that was usually there on the rare occassions when their eyes met over these last two months.
"So, will you listen to me?" She prodded, aware that they were just steps away from the kitchen, a place situated near the main hall, the stairs and the entry – hardly ideal for a confrontation, let alone spelling out secrets.
He nodded. It was not much as agreements go, but then he looked around. He jerked his head as he moved past her down towards the library. She almost felt offended at the thought that he would assume she would want to go there, but it was a logical place to talk privately having only one entrance. She really needed to work on her hang-ups.
She noted the way that he swept the room with his eyes as they entered. Besides the few little ones that could turn up almost anywhere, the aforementioned Weasley's were frequent guests and the boys roamed freely while their mother toiled in the kitchen before meetings.
More impressive to the young witch was that instead of locking or warding the door, Harry merely closed it. Then he led her to the back corner before casting any spells. Now free of sleeping bags and other signs of temporary boarding, the library furnishings were restored. The plush couch that sat opposite the floor-to-ceiling windows was large enough for them both without crowding.
Drawing his wand, Harry silently cast two spells. Hermione felt one of them settle over her and thought that she heard a slight buzzing around them before he captured her attention.
"I want you to know that I'm not angry with you. I am angry about a lot of... stuff. I'm just so tired of holding it in all the time at school that when I'm here I let my guard down. I wanted to get that out first. Now what is your super secret plan that you and the twins have cooked up?"
Hermione had to smirk a bit, both at his revelation and his assumption, mostly the former. After two months of him stomping past her to go downstairs and practically glaring at her the few times they'd shared meal times... perhaps he was trying to be diplomatic or set her at ease. Well, anyway she wasn't buying it. She also felt her temper flaring.
Another deep breathing exercise.
"The twins' involvement ended with helping me figure out a few schedules and of course these." She produced a long flesh-colored string with a small, ear-shaped mass at the end.
Forging ahead, the witch laid out the core of the idea. It was a make it or break it moment and Hermione found herself once again petitioning the Unknown for aid as she drew a deep breath and let it out. "During my studies I discovered that certain times and dates have different effects on magic, which led me to find out that the Winter Solstice is a powerful time for renewal and, as such it would also lend power to freeing a trapped soul."
Harry's attention was quickly turned from examining the twins' device to stare at Hermione.
"That's what happened to him, his soul was trapped?" his voice was trembling, his eyes were wide and there was once again no mask on the boy in front of the young witch. She doubted she'd seen him this open since that night when he sat so brokenly apologizing to her and her father. "Why..." his voice trailed off, but then she could see the mask sliding back on even as he shook his head, though she didn't know what it meant.
"Go on". His voice wasn't steady, but he was listening.
"Between what I've read, overheard and talked about with Remus and Tonks, I, that is Dumbledore agrees with me, that Sirius was trapped in Malfoys' house magic when it responded to the explosion. Because an eye witness placed Sirius there – as Lord Malfoy's prisoner – it is believed that the Ancient House magic treated him as protected by the old Rule of Hospitality."
Hermione took a needed breath, trying but unable to really gauge Harry's response thus far. He wasn't shut down, but he had taken to looking towards the windows. It was clear that he was not looking outside. She just didn't know him well enough to understand the look he wore.
Pressing on, Hermione stood, more out of nervous energy than anything else. The buzzing noise intensified for a moment and then it was gone. She realized with the sudden return of the familiar house noises that she was outside the effect of the spell. Turning back she saw Harry giving her a look that clearly said 'sit down'; nothing to interpret there.
She sat back down, now realizing that their couch seemed to be in a bubble of silence.
"Sorry, bit nervous. This is the tough part." She forced her hands to fold in her lap as she sat sideways a bit to face him more, though her goof had at least brought his attention back to her. Now, under his scrutiny, she wasn't sure that was the way she preferred things.
After a more controlled deep breath in – and slowly out – she continued. "The thing is, the Order knows all of this and is planning on trying to get, him... out. That is, they have a plan, but it's not a good one."
He looked attentive, not dismissive or disbelieving. So far, so good.
"There are a couple of reasons they haven't tried to free him up till now. First is that one other person was known to be there and be subject to the Old Rules when the explosion happened: Voldemort." It went without saying that with all of the bodies accounted for by the Aurors – and reported in the Daily Prophet – none matched the descriptions given of the supposedly returned Dark Lord. If the Prophet could be believed, public opinion varied from one extreme to the other as to when or if the madman would strike again.
Harry seemed to consider Hermione closely for a moment when she said the terrorist leaders name, though she was unsure as to why. She filed it away and continued.
"I heard that Bill Weasley scanned the wreckage that first day and he detected three very faint readings – not life forces so much as spirits – below the ruined structure. He was there covertly and they've never been able to get a group back in there since, due to the wards. The wards being the second reason - Malfoy Manor is protected by some old and powerful magic."
Harry began speaking as though picking up her thoughts. "I know they are doing a ritual, and it's tomorrow night, like you say. Dumbledore asked me to be a part of it a couple of nights ago, but he wouldn't give me any details. He's maddening that way."
"Min, uhm, Professor McGonagall gives me that idea when she speaks of him, though he seems to be too busy to do more than exchange pleasantries with me so far, but he seems nice enough... a bit like Gandalf." she smiled at the repeated joke, and was relieved as he laughed a bit and nodded.
He looked at her with genuine interest for the first time. "So what's different about your plan, since it sounds so similar to what I would guess they're doing already?" Harry leaned back a little, obviously watching Hermione closely as he waited for her answer.
She was prepared for this. Hermione knew all of the facts and she was confident in her conclusions. She also knew Harry was the only person left to her capable of helping convince the others to give her a chance.
"The Orders plan is to send Tonks to the party in disguise and Emmeline Vance has an invitation as a bit of a socialite. They will make their way to the basement where they have to find the spot above the Vault and setup for a ritual that requires two females."
Hearing Harry draw a breath, the young woman forged ahead, catching him off guard. "They will use a device that Dumbledore says will work through any wards to send a signal when they are ready. Then you and Dumbledore, among others, will simultaneously conduct the ritual here in the Black family seat which should free him."
Again Harry began to ask a question, this time Hermione went a step further by simply stating, "Not yet," before taking another settling breath and continuing. "The problems are that Emmeline may be a competent witch, but she has no direct connection to House Black. Furthermore she doesn't understand the nuances of the ritual – I know, I asked her, she hates arithmancy."
She heard him pause, felt the silence build and then finally forced herself to look at him. Once again her will was tested, this time to keep defiance out of her eyes before she knew his position. It was very difficult not to expect rejection. Yet another hang-up she was going to cross off of her 'problems list'. Someday.
But the eyes that considered her from a few feet away were not judgmental so much as considering. They seemed to be calculating as opposed to dismissing. She was startled to realize there was no small intelligence behind the eyes that were now a brighter shade of green with the light from the windows shining in on both of them. She felt her heart flutter a bit for an entirely unexpected reason and almost snarled at herself inside. What's up with that? I'm not going to be reduced to some giggling little girl just because a cute boy looks at me! She'd read extensively on what to expect from this... time in her development and was not impressed at all to learn how hormones could overcome rational thought if not carefully guarded against.
A deep breath in – and slowly out. She didn't break his gaze and yet she could feel a bit of sweat on her brow as the strain of controlling all of her roiling thoughts – and now emotions – began to demand some form of outlet beyond her cursed breathing exercises.
Thankfully he seemed to have reached the end of his side of the standoff first as he leaned back, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a long slow breath.
Hermione tried to stealthily wipe her forehead as she blinked away the dry-eye feeling. Another quick cleansing breath and she faced her – hopefully – ally. He hadn't opened his eyes yet as he rubbed methodically at the bridge of his nose. He looked deep in concentration, actually, and Hermione found herself wondering if she'd brought on a headache to the young wizard.
When he spoke, he sounded tired yet his voice was deliberate and strong. "Alright, I have a few questions that I'm not sure you'd know to prepare for. Don't be offended, I just don't know how much you know about the kind of people we're dealing with in the Malfoys. If I'm going to help you with this we can't go in without them answered." He opened his eyes as he sat forward, once again catching her eye, but this time he didn't stare so intently.
"Actually, first of all, what does your father say about all of this? I don't want him accusing us of anything again."
The edge in Harry's tone made it clear that he'd heard enough to know that her dad had been pretty rough in his first few hours here at Number 12. The fact that her father was not here, and would not be until the 22nd pretty much ruined her hopes of adult support.
Nodding vigorously to show she understood, Hermione explained that her father was working with Arthur on Order business, but he had given her his support so long as both Remus and Dumbledore were certain she would be safe. "They will have to send Arthur an Owl with their approval or the answer is no, was essentially his answer when I wrote to ask him."
Harry considered the young woman before him. All of this implied quite a bit of planning and he realized that he needed to consider this as carefully as she obviously had. It took him no time at all to come up with another major obstacle to her her involvement.
"Alright, what do you know about 'Blood Purity'?" As Hermione launched into her extensive knowledge on the subject, both from a socio-political standpoint and the cultural ramifications, Harry Potter tried not to cringe, at least not openly.
"OK, OK!" he at least laughed a little, though there was some desperation in his voice. "I get that you understand a great deal on the subject, alright?" He lowered his head to gaze up at her, since she had reflexively lowered her own gaze.
"What I need to know is, and again, don't be offended, but how are you – a muggleborn – going to get into a party thrown by the Malfoy's, who actually have their wards keyed to point out non-Purebloods that come onto their property?"
Hermione's world seemed to freeze for a few moments. If the spell granting them a bubble of silence hadn't been in effect she still would not have heard anything around her as every synapse in her mind was firing towards one purpose.
Breathing was thankfully automatic, everything else stopped, including her arm which she had raised to reflexively brush some stray hair out of her face.
Harry started to get a bit nervous as the witch in front of him appeared to have just been Petrified. She seemed to have begun to bite her lip, an action he found strangely fascinating, when she simply froze in place! He'd seen no flash of the spell yet he instinctively reached for his wand even as he looked for an enemy in the large, oak paneled room.
Cursing his reliance upon the alarm spell he was just beginning the spell to reveal hidden enemies when the girls' sharp intake of breath followed by a shout of "I've got it!" just about caused him to fall off the couch as he spun back to face her.
The wand practically in her face had no effect upon her excitement as Hermione beamed a smile at the baffled looking boy. She processed his reaction and dismissed any threat, forging ahead with her rather clever solution.
The boy in question had to shake himself a little. Hermione was talking a mile a minute, hands waving in expressive gestures and curls bouncing around in her attempt to communicate something about reverse engineering spells. He found himself fascinated by the way the light played off of those curls and wondered why he'd never noticed how lively her eyes were. He realized that he found her quite lovely.
Hermione's steam was running out as the young wizard in front of her seemed to have zoned out, staring at her in what seemed to her to be a bit vacantly. "Uh, so, do you think that could work?"
Harry blinked once, a long-slow and he quickly realized, what had to be a completely-stupid-looking-blink. Using his well practiced classroom technique he rifled through his short term memories to push together enough information to answer intelligently enough to avoid detention – er, seeming like an idiot. More of one, that is.
"You looked up the spell used to test blood purity and saw the core elements could be reversed as a charm to fool detection, does that sound right?" he asked. His tone carried the confidence borne of years of covering his arse in dealings with both students and teachers, not to mention Sirius and Remus.
If her tentative smile was any indication, he hadn't exactly bluffed her, but she was nodding confirmation at least.
She knew something was off – perhaps he was distracted by another question, or maybe he really did have a headache? In any case he got the gist of her spell idea, though she felt a bit slighted that he didn't acknowledge any of the complexities involved.
Still, the spell work was out of her league - she had only come up with the idea - though she was confident in her theory at least. The actual blood purity detection spell was extremely simple, consisting of two main components. Reversing one of those components was basic arithmancy, practically beginners practice. Making a brand new charm however was something the young witch had no experience with. Given how critical it's success was to her 'mission', she wasn't about to go experimenting. At least not without more time.
If Tonks could help her with the practical part, she was sure that they could mask her 'blood status', at least for an evening. He had mentioned 'a few' questions, best get to the next one, besides she thought with a grin, this is fun!
"What else?"
Harry squinted a bit. Was this girl for real? She was quite obviously enjoying this; if he wasn't mistaken she looked like she was eager for another tough question. He smiled in answer to hers, finding her enthusiasm strangely addictive.
"Well, that was the toughest thing I can think of." He hid a smirk as he saw the obvious signs that she was disappointed. Yep, this witch definitely was unique! He suddenly realized she might just be a bit of a challenge. Too bad she wasn't at Hogwarts.
"The rest is all about convincing the adults that you can fit in, which will be no small task. You'll need a cover story, which can be helped along by Order members and you've obviously got the memory necessary to keep it straight, but can you improvise? Could you remain calm, pretending you belonged mingling in a large group of witches and wizards?" Her reaction made him immediately regret the question. She looked down quickly, trying to hide the dark look that passed over her face just briefly, but he had seen it clearly.
Harry considered the young witch before him with a bit of confusion. His spirit seemed to be dampened by her distress just as quickly as it had been lifted by her joy. He'd not spoken five words to the girl in the last seven weeks out of his own misery and immaturity. Now he was completely confounded by her, finally having let go of any lingering blame to look at her as he saw her now: a very pretty, obviously intelligent and curiously complex young witch who seemed to carry some heavy burdens.
"Yes." She answered quite simply, though she seemed distracted. Then, with an obviously forced calm, "I've done a bit of acting, getting through some tough times and dealing with ignorant classmates."
The silence that followed was borne of concern on Harry's part, but unfortunately Hermione couldn't know that. She sat up straight and once again looked up at Harry, but this time she looked past him. A habit she'd gotten into when avoiding conflict, she looked just to the side of his eyes, rather than into them.
"So," he started, trying to break the awkwardness. "Then, you'll need to know the differences in wizarding etiquette compared to, well, non-magicals I guess? I'm sure you can pick the basics pretty well, and of course you need to know how to dance?"
This last question was clearly said with a bit of embarrassment, though Hermione could not see what the cause would be. She remained a bit detached as though she was distracted and continued to stare a little above his left ear.
Nodding her affirmation, she continued in her too-calm tones. "I can waltz and know some folk dances, I was going to learn Latin and swing this semester." Her friends back at Wolfson college had been teaching her - and one other - to dance in their irregular gatherings and had convinced her to sign up for her very first liberal arts elective – a dance class. Realizing that she had allowed her emotions to rise up again, Hermione resorted to another cleansing breath before she pushed away the hurt feelings that his question had unearthed.
The young witch hated how her moods affected her so much more lately, her steely self control seemed to have slipped over the last weeks without confrontation – except for Harry – or even anyone to avoid, since he avoided her. She had the sudden thought that she might just be making him nervous, instead of making fun of her.
Once she actually looked at Harry's face she knew that he wasn't laughing at her. In fact she was confused to see what looked like sympathy. Part of her appreciated the thought, but her practical side roared to the forefront.
She had some important people to convince that she was ready to do an undercover infiltration into a hostile location which would also be her very first real life exposure to a fully magical society. Now was not the time to be 'poor little Jean'. Now was the time to show that she was Hermione, a witch and a capable one!
Harry saw the change come over her features again, and again he marveled at the powerful way the small young woman could express emotions. For someone like him, who mostly hid his feelings, it was a bit overwhelming. He found himself sitting up straight again as she began to radiate confidence.
"Right," she stated with a small, but genuine smile, "what else?"
Thinking on it, Harry realized that he really missed Sirius at that moment. It was times like these, when he needed to plan something, that he knew he could turn to his godfather; though usually pranking was involved he thought with a small, wry smile. A smile he turned into a softer grin towards his new co-conspirator. "I think we need to take this to Tonks – you already need to talk to her about the blood purity charm."
She nodded quickly, glad that he had made the connection. "And she'll get Remus on board, and with both of them we can get Bill and then it's Dumbledore we have to convince. Arthur will not be here, but will send word that my dad approves, and if I have guessed him right, Dumbledore's approval will decide Arthur's opinion anyway. Depending on who is there, Kingsley, Hestia, and Moody will listen to reasoned arguments while Molly, Doge and Vance will follow whatever Dumbledore decides. Snape will do what is best for Snape, but I don't get the feeling he will oppose unless he has a valid reason."
Harry stared at the witch once again in open admiration. She really had a good grasp on the personalities he had come to know over recent years. "Lets get moving!" He stood, offering her a hand up as he canceled the charm around them.
Her shy smile as she took his hand made him grin in return. Harry's eyes widened then, but not from the strange feeling in his stomach but rather the tingle of magic as his alarm alerted him of someone approaching them. The wizard dropped the witch's hand a bit hastily and his stomach plummeted as he saw the smile fall from her face with his action. 'Crap!' He cringed inside.
Hermione squinted a bit at the boys' strange behavior. First he's giving her a goofy grin and she's feeling ridiculously warm over it, then she's holding his hand and she's barely containing a furious blush and then – bam – he's behaving like a typical little boy afraid of cooties or something, not that she'd had to worry about that so far.
"Sorry!" he whispered urgently, "someone's coming!"
Giving a small smile to show she understood as he handed her a book and stepped away from her, she mused that she really didn't understand at all. Shaking her head, she realized that, like it or not, her uncontrolled feelings were definitely going to be a problem.
While Harry stared down the intruder, the young witch was too busy acknowledging what all the data she'd reviewed in her mind pointed to: Hermione Granger liked Harry Potter, and that realization terrified her. She hardly noticed the brown-haired boy stride into the room, practically skid to a stop, turn beet red and then leave grumbling.
. . .
Ron Weasley scowled. He'd finally found the girl and of course he would have to be there with her.
The twins had been taunting him ever since they gave back his invitation to Neville's New Year's Ball, pointing out 'may bring a date'.
"As if ickle-Ronnikins could ever find a girl desperate enough!" Was their parting shot.
Ron had spent his time thinking (sulked for a few hours) until he'd remembered the one girl about his age that he could still ask. So he found her in her usual haunt in the library – but she wasn't alone.
They had been a ways apart when he found them, she was reading and Potter was looking up a him, lounging on the couch. But they were together, at least he thought so. Now, having stormed all the way back up the stairs, he wasn't so sure. She seemed rather engrossed in her book, not even noticing his entrance. Maybe she was ignoring Potter?
Remembering Harry in his fancy clothing only reinforced Ron's feelings of inadequacy. He determined that the first thing he needed to do was to make himself more presentable, then he'd wait for the Order meeting to begin – Harry always goofed off in the basement during meetings. Once Seven O'clock rolled around Ronald Weasley was going to give that little witch a chance to go to her very first Wizarding Ball! How could she resist?
.o0o.
A/N: Once again 'Beta-less', though with all the help my sis Thirst4light gave me with this chapter I may have to revise that :-) Also thanks go to my wife SmolderingJade for her tips and support.
Recommended reading is Time is the Fire by Oddment Tweak, one of the few Time Turner fics that didn't leave me flat, instead it broke that and the Epilogue Compliant barriers to leave me happy at the end.
I've topped a few milestones with chapter 13 – past 50,000 words and 20,000 views! Thank you so much!
My thanks to all my readers, with special appreciation to Noble Korhedron, arabellagrace, Tellur, Monnbeam, Thirst4light, James Spookie and even my snarky Guest, who all gave my muse some wonderfully appreciated reviews.
Blessings,
Majerus