A/N: For the purists among us: I do not pretend to know the full layout of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, so please allow for some artistic license if I don't get the details quite right.
Jean, Chapter 14 Decisions, Actions and Consequences, Part 1
7 pm, December 20th, 1993
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Ronald Weasley had made up his mind. It was not an easy decision, but out of the many girls who would love to accompany him this New Years, he had his eye on only one witch. (Ron carefully ignored the fact that he hadn't asked anyone at school and now they were out for the Christmas holiday, stuck at Grimmauld Place while his Mum worked with the refugee kids either here or one of the other safe houses.)
He knew a bit about the girl from earlier encounters, having met her twice now. Ron had made a point of seeking out the muggle-born witch when he'd come to Number 12 twice in early November. She had been very quiet and shy, and he liked the way she was so impressed by the spells he had shown her.
Ron had felt terrible for all of the 'rugrats' filling the ancient old house. The young wizard thought himself quite sensitive, entertaining the young witch with the big sad brown eyes - along with quite a few younger kids who apparently stayed temporarily in the library itself.
He and the rest of the school-aged Weasley's had only been at the old house because Molly had wanted all of her children by her side to reassure herself of their safety. His Mum had never been the same since...
Shaking his head to avoid those thoughts, the lanky teen straightened his best button-down shirt. He glanced reluctantly in the mirror and smoothed down his dung brown hair – color courtesy of the Twins. The color-change was not visible to adults; this was a bit of spell-work that would be much more impressive to Ron if it were cast on, say, Perfect Prefect Percy, but his twin brothers seemed to have taken personal offense to him these last two years and he was no match for their trickery. Shaking off these troubles as beyond his understanding, he decided he was ready.
Picking up the family's hand-me-down copy of 'Standard Book of Spells, Year Two', he strode to the landing to head to the soon-to-be-lucky girl's favorite place: the library.
. . .
For almost twenty years – counting a roughly decade long break – the kitchen at Number 12 Grimmauld Place had served as the unofficially official meeting place of the Order of the Phoenix. Nobody had ever questioned the right of leadership of it's elder mage, Albus Dumbledore.
However, given it's nature as a secret paramilitary group, over the years many of it's members had endured various levels of scrutiny.
Only one other had been subject to worse interrogation than Hermione Granger, though a comparison to the dark eyed potions master would have given that witch no comfort. Nor would the fact that she wasn't being given such a hard time due to distrust – as had the aforementioned spy – but rather due to her youth. Actually, she would have preferred to confront distrust. Because of her youth she wasn't even present to defend her right to be there at all, let alone the merits of her ideas.
The lines had been drawn much as the young witch in question had predicted. In fact, the various members had even moved into separate groups, as though preparing for a more than verbal confrontation. Albus, Alastor and Severus still sat at the table, each with differing ways of expressing their waning patience.
Outside the room, sitting on the bottom steps in the gloom of the entry way, Hermione sat next to Harry. The co-conspirators were sharing a tiny ear-bud, the pinkish string trailing towards the nearby kitchen door. The sound quality produced when outside the ear canal was tinny and demanded that the pair be pressed close together to catch what was said by the adults.
A similar frown showed on both faces as they struggled to get anything useful from the discussion Hermione had just been ushered out of. The teens heard either indecipherable murmurs as each side debated among themselves, or loud bursts with too many voices speaking at once for either of the listeners to understand any single speaker.
Their frustration levels were high, Harry's seemingly feeding off of the emotions practically roiling within the upset young witch. She had barely been allowed to give her carefully worded explanation – and even that had taken both Tonks and Remus' strong and vocal support. Still, the two teens listened intensely, hoping to get some idea of how things would turn out.
. . .
As Ron approached the stairs he considered the idea of giving the girl a book. He wanted to make a good impression, and giving her a book of spells to study seemed like a good choice since he knew she obviously loved to read and was new to magic. He only hoped that second year spells were not too advanced for her, since she hadn't been to school yet. He couldn't give her the family's hand-me-down book of first year spells... but he didn't want to think on that.
He had learned that the girl studied with Professor Lupin after overhearing some talk between his Defense teacher and the Auror, Tonks, that came up to the school sometimes with Potter.
Ugh. Harry Potter, "the Boy Who Lived". More like "the boy who got away with anything". From Ron's more objective point of view, his wealthy classmate was just as slick and guilty as his godfather. The teen was already grimacing from his dark thoughts when he arrived at the head of the stairs where he looked down to see the object of his ire... right next to the object of his desire. Very much next to, as in, bodies pressed together and heads – well they were cheek to cheek, weren't they?
Peering into the gloom of the first floor landing, he decided that they must be snogging. His blood pressure sky-rocketed and the infamous Weasley temper was displayed for anyone who knew him as his ears turned a uniform shade of bright red.
Deciding what he needed right then was a sandwich, he proceeded to move down to the kitchen as quickly – and loudly – as he could. He wouldn't even look at them in passing, and if she was embarrassed... 'what was that flash of light?'
. . .
Two separate - and unplanned - responses to Ronald's impulsive behavior were soon to make this a much worse night for the angry young man.
First, the green-eyed boy who was the target of his jealousy had a nearly instinctive hatred of the sound of someone stomping down stairs. It was this blend of currently tense emotions combined with childhood trauma and recent years of trained muscle-memory that resulted in Harry twisting around towards that noise, wand drawn and spell already finishing as he aimed. The heavy-footed intruder's features were obscured by lighting from above, but this same quality of light made them an easy target, outlined as he was from behind.
Second, the brown-haired 'stomper' had two other problems in the form of his twin brothers who had been observing the pair of teens from the third floor landing. Since both twins were in agreement that the "young couple" were too cute to disturb, their own Weasley tempers were ignited by their little-brat-brother's behavior. As one they executed a well practiced ambush the likes of which had been seen at least a hundred times on the many stairways in a castle far to the north. Their concentration was such that they completely missed Harry's near simultaneous reaction two floors below.
The combination of spell effects had immediate and loud consequences, which the three casters would not have believed had they not witnessed it themselves.
Hermione was a much less reactive type of person and so it was she who turned to see the results after the cacophony of combined spell-effects washed over her. She only had time to wince before her new ally had her up and running down the hallway. Her errant thought of how strong Harry must be to half-carry her was thrust aside even as she was thrust into the hall bathroom. He closed the door quietly behind him and turned to face her, seemingly shocked to find her face inches from his.
She was now completely occupied with the fact that she was squeezed into a rather small place with the object of her recent and sudden distraction. It was a testament to how her emotions were ruling her intellect that she never once worried about the abandoned listening device.
The twins, long time masters of The Excuse, reacted like the semi-professional pranksters that they were and waited until they were a whole floor and three doors away – one of them privacy charmed – before breaking into hysterical laughter.
. . .
"Quiet!" Albus spoke evenly, though confidently, and those few who hadn't heard the sound of spell-fire abruptly ceased making noise as first Severus, then Remus went to flank the door, wands drawn. Tonks – the only blood relative of Sirius present – closed her eyes and shortly shook her head. "The wards have not activated, it must be the twins."
The tension in the room reduced visibly as shoulders relaxed and several drawn wands were put away. It may have been over a month since the last attack by a 'death eater', but the subject of tomorrow's mission had everyone tense even before the heated debate had consumed the last five minutes.
Remus opened the door but then looked back in, "Tonks, help. Albus, summon Pomfrey, Ron's been... attacked?"
Severus strode through the door then, still warily looking about. "You sound less than sure, Lupin," he began in a drawl, then stopped to pick up the long pink string that led back to the door. The small receiver end was only feet away from Ron's sprawled and... unfortunate appearing form.
Picking it up with his practiced disdain, the potions master peered down at the small, pinkish-ear in his hand. "Perhaps the culprit is the eavesdropper himself? I've never encountered this device before. No doubt the twins will be responsible for it's manufacture, though given this dunderhead's academic record he probably tried additional spells on it and..."
Snape's usually sour expression seemed to actually form a bit of a compassionate grimace – if only briefly – as he gazed at Ron there at the base of the stairs. "Did that," he finally finished, as if the usually eloquent wizard just couldn't come up with anything that fit.
Meanwhile, Tonks had examined the boy and shook her head. Turning to Dumbledore, she spoke with authority that showed her profession. "I know the meeting is important, but I think he better go to the Accidental Spell Damage ward, no offense to Poppy."
She looked at Remus, "You take him, I'll get Molly."
Remus looked relieved with the assignment, or at least relieved not to be the one fetching Molly. "She'll be at the Crosby House," with that information, Albus stepped forward and created a port-key for the wizarding hsopital, moments later the lycan and unfortunate boy were gone.
Turning to Severus, Tonks pinned him with her gaze. "You know the facts. Remus and I vote to use Hermione's ideas – and help – in the ritual."
She was moving to the entry floo when his silky voice caught her, even as he handed her the pink string and ear. "Take the device, it may help with their diagnosis. Oh, and I'll note that you vote for the mongrel now." She didn't have time to analyze the nuances of his tone – was he merely mocking her or was there some underlying message? Everyone knew Tonks pursued the older man's affections, so why... her musings were carried away with her as her voice rang out "Crosby House" and she vanished in a flash of green flames.
. . .
In the attic the twins were pouring over their homework, wands cleared of incriminating evidence, alibi's firmly established. They needn't have worried – at least not for another hour.
. . .
In the hall, just thirty feet from the base of the stairs, two teens were perched awkwardly against opposite walls.
A quick discussion ensued about who was on the stairs and what had happened to him.
"Ron Weasley based on the hair color, but as to what happened... I dunno," Harry eloquently explained. At the girl's clear huff of annoyance he endeavored to come up with a better answer. "I didn't see his wand, but if I had to guess I'd say it was accidental magic from my spell hitting something he was casting?"
His tone was unsure which told Hermione that pursuing her thirst for details would not get them any further. She reigned in another 'huff', instead changing directions, "Do you think he'll be alright? He looked..." How could she describe it?
"Between Dumbledore, Snape and Lupin they've got some amazing minds out there with him by now. He'll be fine." They had both heard the voices in the hallway before Harry repeated his privacy spell. Of course he'd been compelled by the small witch to teach it to her almost immediately.
Harry had been pleased at her thirst for learning spells, but he'd been blown away by how quickly she picked up the details and successfully replaced his own spell on the door.
An awkward silence descended, and for an interminable few minutes they stood not staring at one another.
Then Harry had first used, and then been forced to teach, a cooling charm. The small room had quickly became a bit uncomfortable with two nervous bodies crammed into it, but a few incantations later both teens were grinning.
Hermione couldn't help but gush, "Magic is so cool!"
Harry laughed quietly at the combination of her pun and (he thought) adorable enthusiasm. Quickly reigning in his laughter, he smiled brightly at the grinning young woman in front of him.
"What?" she asked, immediately self-conscious with a boy smiling and staring at her.
His eyes widened as he quickly replied, "Nothing bad, actually, I was just thinking how nice it is to find someone who thinks magic is, well, 'cool'." Another snicker followed by an answering grin. "There are a few other muggle-borns in my class, but I'm so busy I don't get much time to hang out with them, and only one is in my study group, but she's a 'Claw and she's bought into the 'mystique' so she doesn't show wonder anymore."
"OK, hold on," she laughed, reviewing the deluge of information. "First, is school really that demanding, I mean, Academically?"
"Well, yes and no," he smirked at her small huff. "Really it depends on what you want out of it and what you put into it. For instance I'm taking a few electives, so I have a lot more work than, say, our loud friend out there, who is barely doing the minimum work for the required classes."
Nodding as much to herself as to him, she ticked off the next item on her mental list, "By 'Claw', you mean Ravenclaw, correct?" Seeing his nod, she continued, "what do you mean 'mystique'?"
Another answering smile, though this one faded as his gaze grew thoughtful, finally his brow furrowed a bit and Hermione thought he looked so cute like that. Argh! Enough with the hormones!
"What's wrong?" he asked, and Hermione realized she must have grimaced in her frustration over her lack of self-control.
"Nothing, go ahead, please?" Her tone was a bit pleading, as though asking him to drop the inquiry as much as to continue, so he did.
"Each house has a bit of an attitude, a personality and an image. Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, for instance, are both seen as 'light' houses, as though only good wizards are produced by them. My parents were betrayed by a Gryffindor so that's tripe in my book. Conversely, Slytherin is seen as 'dark', especially due to the fact that many dark lords have been from that house, including the most recent – and possibly returned – Voldemort."
Hermione once again noted that Harry seemed to peer at her a little more intently when he said that name. "What are you looking for?", she interrupted.
Surprise dominated his features for a moment, then that grin was back and she felt the appreciation in that gaze. She didn't even try to stop the blush that crept up her cheeks.
"You're pretty quick, aren't you!" It wasn't a question, and the praise in that statement made her heart double-tap a bit, then he was answering her. "There are very few people who don't freak out when they hear that name. Some even whimper, and a few have berated me when I've said it. Even some of the Order members are afraid of it – but from what... well, when Sirius taught me about the first war against Voldemort, he said that there was plenty of reason to fear his name."
Hermione had not seen the darkness in his eyes for a few hours now and was sad to see it return so quickly. She was equally happy to see his features relax as he took in and released a few long breaths.
"You do it too," she chimed, "the breathing exercises." She steeled herself and kept her voice even as she opened up a bit. "I learned it from a counselor, after my mum passed, to help when stress gets too much."
He answered with a thoughtful nod, and they were both quiet for a moment.
Harry cleared his throat, then looked up from under his bangs. She saw the raw emotion in his eyes before she heard it in his voice. "I'm really sorry, about your mum, and your house, and the terrible way I've treated –"
She found herself squeezing the young wizard in one of her impulsive hugs, like she used to give to her father when he made her very happy or she thought he was terribly sad. Hermione hadn't even thought about it, and now she was somewhere between really unsure of what to do next and positive that she didn't want to let go right away. When his arms tentatively wrapped around her back in answer, she let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. This wasn't so bad, this 'comforting' thing, she realized.
"Thank you," she stated, her voice muffled against his chest and buried under her curls.
Pushing back, they released from their embrace with the mutual embarrassment of youth and yet both had small smiles underneath their small blushes.
"Friends?" Harry asked. The question was simple enough, and his bright-eyed-grin clearly conveyed his sincerity. Still, it took Hermione's considerable will to ignore the mean-spirited voice that shouted warnings even as she shook his outstretched hand, if briefly. Her smile answered his in reflex. She had a friend! Calm yourself, you're not a silly girl! She cleared her throat and stepped back the one pace to her side of the small room.
"Now," her business-like tone was softened by her smile, "You were telling me about Slytherin and the other houses?"
Suddenly both teens stiffened as a small flash of grey light came right through the door, seeming to fade into each of their heads. Their mutual nods confirmed it, they'd both just received a rather clear summons from Minerva McGonagall.
. . .
Hermione had never been so nervous before any of her exams or as frustrated after one. She had been asked a series of questions by several Order members and was a bit sad to see neither Remus nor Tonks was present. She was equally baffled when Severus Snape of all people defended her. The dour man interrupted when Emmeline Vance became snippy at Hermione's factual assessment of why the stately witch was not a good choice for the ritual.
Though all he said was, "Give the girl her turn," the young witch was emboldened by the support. She thought Minerva's shocked look was particularly interesting, if not outright amusing.
Through it all the old wizard sat at the head of the table, his eyes twinkling madly, only giving the occasional 'now now', or, 'lets move on', when questions turned into arguments.
Moody seemed almost bored, staring into his small glass of some brownish liquid, but Hermione knew he was watching her - and likely everyone else - with that magical eye of his.
With only two of the remaining adults in obvious opposition, Hermione's confidence grew. She felt that her simple, factual information combined with clear and concise answers to questions would lead to a quick and decisive agreement.
Instead she watched as seven adults devolved into circular arguments that always boiled down to the fact that Hermione was only fourteen. That was only after thinly veiled personal insults between a few of the members, mostly over issues that probably were older than she was.
After a full ten minutes of this Hermione stood up, her chair scraping loudly helping to silence the Diggle-Vance-Doge version of 'Yes you did/no I didn't'.
"You have something more to add, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore's voice smoothly filled the silence.
Snape raised an eyebrow and Minerva glared at Emmeline's not so quietly grumbled 'rude child'.
"You have the facts. My blood status can be concealed, Auror Tonk's charm was confirmed by Professor Dumbledore himself. I have explained the complexities of the ritual's placement dependent on how far below the floor the Vault it is and the relative triangulation of the location to the basement of Number 12 – which will require Arithmatic calculations that Miss Vance admits lacking the skills to perform. Auror Tonks has already admitted her similar deficiency in the subject yet she is clearly a critical member of the team for her other skills. I may not have done the coursework, but I've been studying constantly for... awhile now, and have also demonstrated to Professor Dumbledore that I am capable of performing the work needed."
She was pleased to see that no one had interrupted, and forged ahead while she had the initiative.
"Additionally I have demonstrated that I can speak French as a native which will fit with the cover that Miss Vance was going to provide Tonks as a foreign relative considering a transfer to Hogwarts. I can demonstrate the limited spell knowledge necessary to this task: privacy and alarm charms, a basic confundus and the disillusionment spell." (She didn't bring up that she had learned three of these spells just this afternoon after she and Harry had gotten Tonks on board this very morning. The privacy charm was newer still, and she tamped down the blush that it's memory evoked.)
"I've learned the basics of the stunner and protego, and I understand that Auror Tonks would be the one doing the actual defending should it come to that. In addition, the Headmaster has provided a Portkey which will overcome the Malfoy wards should we be forced to flee."
Leaning forward, the young witch ignored everyone else present and stared right into the twinkling blue orbs at the head of the table.
"Your current plan only exists partly because of my research. I've spent the last month focused on finding and solving problems with it, honing the math and learning every detail I could about House Magic, which leads me to one more reason I'm an asset you cannot afford to dismiss."
Standing upright, Hermione spoke loud and clear: "Kreacher."
A moment later the old house elf stood next to the young witch, his attention solely focused on her.
"Lord Black's honored guest calls and Kreacher answers, what does guest needs?"
Hermione knew that this was a critical juncture, but she did take a moment to enjoy the small victory: the silence around the table was almost as priceless as the lack of a twinkle in the old wizards widened eyes.
The twinkle that was back in force as he smiled brightly. "Well done Miss Granger, please excuse us?"
The almost casual dismissal felt like a punch in the gut to the teenager, she turned back to the small fellow by her side and politely smiled, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you for your prompt response Kreacher, you are a credit to House Black. Could you please let Harry know I'll meet him in the library?"
The elf made no grumble, which was another surprise to everyone present. Then he did something none of them could believe had they not seen it, he inclined his head – every so slightly – as he spoke. "Kreacher does it," and popped out. No insults. No disparaging remarks about the two half-bloods at the table, let alone answering a muggle-born to begin with!
She exerted vicious self-control over every fiber in her being as she calmly walked out the door and closed it quietly behind her. Hermione was down the hall to the library door before conversation resumed. Which wasn't surprising given the way so many of those seated had almost appeared to have been petrified. She walked into the library to await the decision with her new friend.
.o0o.
A/N: I'm going to have to stop saying "no Beta" and give credit where credit is due: Many helpful corrections and valuable insights were given by my sister, Thirst4light and my wife, SmolderingJade. That I have been able to give three chapters in three weeks is at least somewhat due to their patience, time and thoughtful help.
Recommended reading is Weary Wizard by Yunaine - humorous, irreverant, Harmonious :)
Fondest thanks to all who reviewed chapter 13, erbkaiser, arabellagrace, Tellur, Noble Korhedron, Monnbeam, James Spookie and Old Crow. The muse practically glows with happiness – and Chapter 15!
. . .
Blessings,
Majerus