AN:
This story is a side story to the Star Granger story-arc. It was envisioned as a one-shot, but got some life of its own.
From a timeline point of view, it is situated in between chapters one and two of 'Star Granger - Season 1'. This story can certainly be read and enjoyed on its own, but reading the first chapter of the first season of 'Star Granger' will give you a little bit of background. Even that story's summary will do so.
For those who are not interested I will just say that it's a SG1 crossover in the tiny sense that Hermione has Naquadah in her blood and holds a Kara-Kesh.
As usual, you are all very welcome to drop me a line and tell me just how bad you reckon it is, and how I could have written it better - I do listen.
Cheers!
Chapter 1 - Of hormones and obsessions
For a secret, very limited, dressed-down, err - meeting, in the old Headmaster's office, this one has gathered quite a crowd. For now, they were all standing around the Headmaster's Pensieve, watching a memory once more.
Harry had already watched this memory once, and it was a rather disturbing one to begin with. The most notable part of which was the surprised look on Greyback's face, right after his whole left arm was torn off and just before a large hole was blown through his chest, about where his heart should have been. As such, Harry stayed out of the Pensieve to watch people's expressions. From her seat, right in front of Dumbledore's desk, Hermione gave him a slight smile. She was keeping herself out of the memory as well, it being hers and all.
Prominent in the crowd was the Headmaster himself. Today he was wearing purple, Harry couldn't have not noticed, which was one of the old man's favourite colours. This suit was rather elaborately decorated - all velvet with silver decoration on the front of his robes and gold embroidery on the hems of his cloak. Add this quite ridiculous flat-top cape he was wearing, and the end result was quite eye-watering.
His wardrobe must cost him an arm and a bleeding leg! Harry found himself thinking.
From her seat, Hermione gave him another amused smile. Clearly she noticed what he was looking at.
"The clothes maketh the man," she whispered to him, just before everyone came out of the memory and Harry couldn't stop himself from giggling softly. It earned him a sneer from Snape - Not that Snape ever needed a reason for one.
Reactions to the memory were varied.
"This was bloody brilliant!" Ron enthused, to the clear disapproval of most of the people around. He now looked at his long time friend with clearly new eyes. 'Brilliant but scary' just got a whole new meaning.
"Do be quiet, Mr Weasley?" Professor McGonagall silenced him with a stern look. Her face was so severe that her lips were practically invisible.
In his corner of the office, Remus' face was a combination of so many conflicting expressions and feelings, that it was actually amusing. He was clearly relieved and somewhat happy for the demise of this certain Werewolf. He was also nauseous. That memory was certainly on the gory side of things. As a true believer in the cult of Dumbledore - he was also oh-so-disapproving. He was also, carefully - yet not inconspicuously enough, making sure that there is someone between him and Hermione at all times.
At his table now, sat the Headmaster, looking at the young girl in front of him with clear disappointment.
He should trademark this expression, Harry found himself thinking and another soft snort escaped him. It earned him another soft smile from Hermione and a whole series of disapproving stares from everyone else in the office. Embarrassed, Harry looked away.
Soon enough, all their reproachful stares were focused back where they belong - at Hermione. If his friend was bothered in any way, it didn't show. She just sat there, in front of all those authority figures, looking all indifferent and checking on her nail polish. According to the annoyed look on her face, this hand-brace she has started wearing, ever since that Ministry disaster late in the former year, has a tendency to ruin it.
"Killing should never be one's first option," Dumbledore stated gravely.
Just a few months back, Hermione would have been devastated by such an esteemed authority figure being disapproving of her conduct. The Ministry battle has changed Hermione, though, and this new one isn't fazed much.
"Neither is being killed," Hermione replied. "Sir!" she then added in an afterthought.
"You, insufferable…" Snape reacted, but Hermione seemingly didn't have the patience for his tosh this evening.
"Oh, belt it?" she shushed him up with a pinching motion of her fingers. Surprisingly enough, Professor Snape found himself to be very much silenced. This surprised Hermione too, since she then looked at her fingers, quite startled.
"Now she attacked a Professor!" Snape accused, as soon as he got his voice back, courtesy of McGonagall's wand.
This amused Harry to no end. "How? He asked. "Her wand stayed in her pocket and she certainly didn't touch you in any way?"
"Enough!" stated McGonagall. "You could have ran away," she then told Hermione.
"From eight frenzied Werewolves?" Hermione asked incredulously in return.
"Or wait for help," Snape adds.
"And who was there to call for this noble help?" Harry intervenes once more.
"However," the Headmaster refrained from a direct answer, "you should have avoided the use of lethal force," he concludes.
"I tried," Hermione mumbled. "But they just-wouldn't-stop!" she then added angrily.
"Humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them," Harry remarked sagely. By the look on Dumbledore's face, he remembered exactly just who Harry was quoting.
At this stage, Hermione had lost her patience. "Are we done here, or am I expelled?" she asked plainly. "Otherwise, I have twenty inches on common antidotes due for Wednesday."
"Next Wednesday!" Harry could clearly hear Ron complaining to himself and smirked. Hermione certainly had her priorities straight still.
Surprisingly enough, the Headmaster got a rather pinched expression upon hearing this. "As things stand," he said reluctantly and reached into a drawer to take out a small key. "The Ministry has offered a reward for Grayback's and a few of his fellow's capture."
Hermione picked up the key with a satisfied smile. She certainly had several books she could now afford without asking her parents for money. "Thank you, Headmaster," she replied with a smile, and turned for the door. Ron and Harry raised from their seats to follow her out, when Dumbledore's voice stopped them once more.
"However," he added, going back to his grandfatherly tone of voice, "I would ask you to leave this hand brace with me."
Beside him, Harry noticed Hermione's face blank. She then put on a clearly fake smile. Well, clear to anyone who is a friend, that is. She then turned to face up to the Headmaster.
"Did you finally capture Riddle?" she asked innocently. "Congratulations!"
Dumbledore lost his grandfatherly smile. "Alas no," he answered, "but this is a much too dangerous device for a young girl to handle."
Probably true, Harry thought, yet…
"Then I believe that I'll hold on to it," Hermione lost her pretend cheerfulness. "I might need it, what with me losing him a few of his pet Werewolves, and not to forget his left forearm. A few of us can't meet him wand-to-wand, sir," she answered, looking at Harry, saying this.
Dumbledore waved his benevolent Headmaster face and wore his 'leader of the light' one in its place.
He wears and changes his personas, as if those were costumes in his wardrobe.
"I will have to insist!" he remarked calmly.
Dumbledore's ability to portray power was quite impressive. This is a very real persona of his, which has once won his famous duel with Grindelwald. It is also rumoured to have made him the only person Voldemort had ever been afraid of. For a good reason, most likely.
Several people around the office took a step back. Harry certainly did. Professor McGonagall gave the Headmaster a worried look. The only person around who didn't seem to be affected is Snape (Professor!) - must give him that. Well, him and Hermione who looked at the Headmaster cool as a cucumber. She held her left hand out, with her palm up. The crystal there, at the palm of her hand, lit red.
"You are welcome to try," she answered softly. "Sir!"
For a long moment, both faced each other, till the tension ebbed.
"Should I go and pack, or prepare my twenty inches due?" Hermione asked levelly.
Dumbledore just sighed tiredly, yet it's Professor McGonagall who ushered the daft girl out the door, down the stairs, and behind the Gargoyle, before things could get out of hand.
"This was bloody brilliant!" Ron enthused, as soon as they were alone in the corridor.
"You are welcome to try - sir?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?"
"Found out that reverence given freely is a dangerous thing," she answered, and Harry had the notion she didn't mean Dumbledore, or even Voldemort.
"You changed," he remarked and Hermione just shrugged.
"Quidditch training?" she asked after a short silence.
"It was rained off," Ron grumbled.
"More 'snow-blizzard'ed' off like," Harry corrected him.
"Thank Merlin Wood isn't our captain anymore," Hermione deadpanned.
"So say we all!" Harry agreed and she chuckled softly, although Ron was certainly lost. "So, those twenty inches due?" Harry further asks.
Hermione just stared at him coldly.
"Right, still our Hermione - already done," he chuckled again.
"Smashing!" Ron smiled hopefully. "Can I have a look?"
Hermione just turned her expressionless stare to Ron, now with a raised eyebrow.
"Clearly our Hermione," Ron agreed.
"Common room, then?" Harry asks.
"I have something to do in the Room of Requirement. I'll go and see if it's free. Someone is heavily using it lately."
"Need our help?" Harry asked. "You are using it quite a bit yourself, lately."
"Maybe a little later," she answered.
"Chess?" Ron asks hopefully.
"I still have those twenty inches due, mate," Harry replied, turning towards the common room.
"Mate!" Ron complained. "We still have more than a week".
"I'll let you have a look at mine, after it's done," Harry promised with a smile.
"Let Hermione read it through beforehand?" Ron agreed hopefully, as they walked away.
Next morning Ron and Harry arrived at the great hall to find Hermione already sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.
"I'm famished," Ron complained and started piling food onto his plate. Some of it was eaten even before having the good fortune of reaching Ron's plate, to the slightly disapproving shake of Hermione's head.
"We waited for you in the common room till Parvati came down and told us you were already gone," Harry explained Ron's extra hunger with a smile.
"Went to the Room to check something up, but it was occupied," she explained absentmindedly.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked, but Hermione only rolled her eyes at his obsession.
"What is it with them?" Harry finally noticed the strange behaviour of his fellow pupils.
"Wah?" Ron asked intelligently. He was clearly too hungry to notice anything at all - but the food.
Around Hermione were several clear seats. People around were whispering. Some - not too quietly. There were even some finger-pointing here and there. Over the whispers, a few words were clear to understand: Hermione, Greyback, killed…
Hermione shrugged and pointed at the folded Daily Prophet aside her plate. On the front page, above the fold, was a picture of Hermione, dressed in her everyday clothes, wearing a torn red-trimmed Gryffindor cloak, and frowning at someone, while a medi-witch was treating a very nasty cut, running from her right shoulder all the way to her elbow.
"Can I borrow Hedwig please?" she asked. My parents are getting the Prophet and I need to tell them I'm alright."
Before Harry could agree, Hedwig was already seen winging her way to the Gryffindor table, and they could only smile.
"I didn't know you were hurt that much," Harry frowned. "Are you well?"
But Hermione waved his concern. "By the time I reached the Hospital Wing, all that was left was a scar and this morning there was very little left of it as well, although madam Pomfrey told me very little can be done for Werewolves derived scars."
"The worm?" Harry asked quietly.
"Huh?"Ron said, to indicate that he was actually following the conversation.
"Back at the Ministry?" Hermione reminded him. Back then, when it all happened, Ron was too engaged with a rather hungry Cognivore trying to eat his mind, to actually notice any of the happenings around him.
"You think you're special?" a very unwelcomed voice suddenly asked from behind them all. Turning around they found a trio of Slytherins on their regular visit of nuisance and grief. "Just an uppity mud-blood," he added in a lower voice, not to be heard by the Professors at the other end of the hall.
Ron was fuming, but Hermione didn't seem fazed much. "You know," she answered calmly. "That's exactly what Dolohov told me last time we met. Remember him? A Death Eater…"
"Like you!" Harry added cheerfully, and earned a scowl from Draco and surprisingly enough - from Hermione as well.
"Was killed back at the Ministry only a short time after telling me so," Hermione added.
Sadly, not by her hand, she found herself thinking. Much to Isis' irritation.
Draco was about to reply in some annoying way, but Harry beat him to it. "Mate," he called amicably. "Did you actually read today's Prophet?"
Once more, Draco was about to replay in quite a salty way, but Harry wasn't finished.
"Reckon coming here to annoy Hermione is such a mint idea?" he asked. At the table, Hermione stayed seated, yet reached out with her hand, palm up. in the middle of it, a large gem glowed ominous red.
"The Slayer!" an excited voice came from the Hufflepuff's table.
"Stay out of it, Finch!" Draco called back in a derisive way. At his sides, his two friends now looked at each other, less positive about the wisdom of being at that particular place at that specific time, doing what Draco was insisting on doing - proving that both were more clever than people ever gave them credit for.
Harry was amused by the remark, though. "The Chosen One!" he declared for all to hear, pointing at his dear friend.
Hermione was less impressed with the conversation. Two flicks and a twirl of her wand later, her fork was Transfigured into a wooden stake, which she was twirling between her fingers. "Let me remind you that those were Werewolves in Hogsmeade. Not Vampires."
"Potato, potahto," Justin replied.
"Just a murderer," Draco answered.
"Are you daft?" Ron intervened in the dispute. "She was self-defending from Werewolves, who were also Death Eaters. The Ministry just published that people can use any means necessary to defend themselves from Death Eaters."
"Right!" Harry agreed, now losing any pretence of cheerfulness. "And didn't you just join that club? Now run along, dear, before I ask my friend to defend me from you."
"Yes, run back to your snake nest!" Ron called after his parting back.
A little down the table, Lavender giggled, and made Ron smile.
"I'm your bodyguard now?" Hermione asked Harry, frowning a little.
"You're my friend - I've just said that, didn't I? Just having some fun with the twit?" he asked placatingly.
"Hogsmeade wasn't fun at all," she answered softly.
"Right. Just like Defence won't be in a quarter," Harry replied.
Ron just groaned.
"Oh Harry, you have got my message. Come in," called the Headmaster, as soon as Harry knocked on his door. Behind Harry's back, the round stairs stopped moving.
The only stairs in this castle which move in the right direction.
Inside, the office was dark.
How very dramatic!
After a short chat, in which Dumbledore showed interest in his health, studies, and strangely enough - not-truly-existing love-life, he finally reached his point and offered Harry to watch his collection of Vlodemort's related memories. It all started with the, back then - deputy Headmaster's first meeting with little Tom Riddle, when he went visiting the young boy at the Orphanage where he was living to notify the little bugger about the existence of magic.
"So, he was an evil little bastard from the start?" was the first question out of Harry's mouth, coming out of the memory. "Sorry sir," he then added.
"Adequate description," Dumbledore agreed nevertheless.
"Did you know?" was Harry's predictable next one.
"Did I know that I had just met the most dangerous Dark wizard of all time?" said Dumbledore. "No, I had no idea at the time."
"Is he?" Harry further asked. Dumbledore looked bewildered by this one.
"The most dangerous Dark wizard you have ever met," Harry further clarified. "Is he worse than Grindelwald?"
This question gave Dumbledore a pause. Was he?
"Grindelwald was a close personal friend. I was afraid of what his vision would mean to the world, but I was never afraid of what Gellert might have done to me personally," Dumbledore sighed.
"People say Riddle was afraid of you?" Harry prompted.
"An exaggeration, I am sure," the Headmaster sighed again. "We are probably done here tonight," he said, suddenly anxious to cut their meeting short.
"Have you spoken with the Minister about Sirius, sir?" Harry went on asking.
"Alas, Harry, with no success," he answered, getting up from behind his desk.
"Can I try and talk with him myself?" Harry went on asking. Getting Sirius acquitted was one of the main things on his mind.
"I will try to set it up, my boy," the Headmaster replied with a smile that clearly said that this meeting should be ending.
"Headmaster," Harry, however, wasn't done yet. "You told me Professor Slughorn would probably like to add me to his 'collection' of important people."
The Headmaster nodded at this.
"Should I let him?" Harry asked.
The Headmaster nodded once more. "We will touch on the reason for it later this year.
"Did he 'collect' my parents as well?"
The Headmaster nodded slightly once more. "Your mother was one of his preferred pupils."
"Did he collect Riddle too?"
And suddenly Harry was ushered out of the office, with no further words said.
Fall came and went with a flurry of busy nothings. Everyone was obsessed, and seemingly, hormone controlled as well.
Harry obsessed over his new Potions book and especially the added content handwritten within. He was also obsessed with Quidditch, and the headache being the Captain of the Gryffindor team brought on. It really took most of the fun out of the sport he liked and enjoyed. Then, there were those 'lessons' with Dumbledore, and the old memories he insisted on showing Harry without ever giving a full explanation for the reason.
Life's too short for building suspense, and by the look of the Headmaster's right hand - his might be much so.
"Headmaster?" Harry asked and picked up the ring from the table, just before Dumbledore had managed to secret it away in one of his many drawers. It felt strange in his hand. Cold, but this coolness touched on Harry's magic - not only the skin of his fingers. It gave Harry the shivers down his spine.
"I have seen this symbol somewhere before," he said. "Does it have a special meaning?"
"Several, young Harry," Dumbledore gave his usual non-answer and hurried up to pick back the ring from Harry's fingers. "We might touch on a couple of those at a later time," the Headmaster added vaguely and hurried up and secreted the ring away.
Harry was also obsessed with Draco's doings. He was quite certain the blond twit was up to no good. He was also quite disturbed by the fact that his two best friends didn't find Draco's conduct to be that unsettling.
Hermione had her own occupations. Studies - indubitably. This year classwork was much more complicated and involved than any of the previous years' ever was, and the workload received was atrocious. Harry almost missed OWL-work. Well, the coursework. Even the examinations - not that bleeding horrible year.
There was also her obsession with Harry's Potion book, which mirrored his own, fed on each other, and seemingly created a perfect storm - in a teacup. It annoyed and amused him in equal measures, the very few times he managed to think about it in a somewhat rational way. It's a schoolbook with handwritten remarks within. Not the bloody rediscovered diaries of Merlin?
Then, there was whatever she engaged herself with in the Room of Requirement. He asked. She answered that she wasn't fully certain herself, and that she will tell them when the time is right.
Ron's obsessions, on the other hand, were straightforward and simple: Quidditch, girls, and studies - in that specific order.
Quidditch was a given, Ron being himself and all. He was so stressed with it that both Harry's and Hermione's rather cunning intervention were needed for him to even be on the team. Nevermind doing as well as he did during their first match.
Ron's obsession with girls was probably to be expected at their age, yet with Ron being his natural insecure self - it initially expressed as a jealousy streak. At Ginny for daring to be dating at all, nevermind actually kissing with a bloke. Then, for some peculiar reason at Hermione, for daring to kiss with a guy before he did, although her love-life at the time was limited to one evening only, and Ron himself managed to ruin that one as well.
For too long both were unpleasant to be with. Snipping bitterly at each other. Ron said some hurtful words and for a moment Harry was afraid of a first-year's-Halloween repeat, albeit the poor Troll had no chance against this Hermione, according to the memory he watched recently. Then, one evening soon after, they found Ron with his lips glued to Lavender's and their hands roaming.
It was all rather embarrassing really. One moment Hermione stood there, as if Stupefied. Next moment she was out of the portrait and down the hall.
It took Harry some time to locate her in one of the unused classrooms on their floor, sitting alone, in the dark, looking utterly miserable, with a cloud of yellow birds tweeting happily in a circle above her head.
"Mind if I join the rave?"
He noticed a shade of a smile on her face and joined her, to let her lean lightly on his shoulder.
"What a pair of miserable sods are we?" Hermione finally whispered to him. "Sitting like this, alone in the dark, while all of Gryffindor is partying."
"Speak for yourself," Harry answered with an indifferent tone of voice. "I'm having a whale of a time and even have all these birds tweeting just for me." It earned him a soft chuckle and a slight elbow, which made him feel better immediately.
A giggling voice pulled their attention towards the door, which burst open and in came Ron, pulling Lavender behind him by the hand.
"Oh," he said intelligently, noticing the company he now had.
"Oops!" Lavender seemed to agree, and tried to pull him back out.
For a while, there was only charged silence where Hermione was staring daggers at Ron. Ron for his part was looking everywhere but at Hermione, and Lavender looked like she was pondering the possibility of turning invisible (given that Apparition was known to be impossible within the castle). Suddenly, Hermione scolded her face. Soon after a soft sad smile reached her lips. "You should go with Lavender, Ron. She doesn't feel comfortable here," she said softly.
Ron nodded in agreement, a bit confused.
"And Lavender?" she added. "Take care of him. Sometimes, Ron's a tad clueless and in need of a helping hand."
For a while, they sat in silence, sitting on the teacher's table once more.
Wonder if Ron will ever realise what he has just lost here tonight, Harry couldn't stop himself from thinking.
"Alright?" he finally asked.
Hermione didn't answer. Just pushed him a bit with her shoulder. "So sorry!" she then called, when her "slight friendly push" threw him, laughing, off the table.
"When did you become so strong?" he asked, sitting back.
"You know when," she shrugged.
"You're alright?" he asked worriedly.
"I'm learning to control it."
"In the Room of Requirement?"
"Among other things."
Once more, they sat in comfortable silence, then Hermione sighed again. "I miss my parents," she said.
"I miss Sirius," Harry agreed. "Wait here!" he then added and rushed out. A few minutes later he was back with a small mirror in his hand.
"Sirius!" he called. A handful of minutes passed before a clearly surprised and quite delighted face filled the mirror.
"Harry!" the man in the mirror enthused.
Harry had to fight to keep his face natural. Beside him, Hermione chortled softly. "You shaved," Harry deadpanned.
In the Mirror, Sirius's face brightened even more. "I did!" he enthused, passing his hand over his now clear cheeks and chin. "Moony said it was time enough I'll look human once more."
"And you left the moustache," Harry added drily.
"Looks great. Like a film star!"
"Spiffing!" Hermione did her best to be supportive.
"Get a convertible with red interior, and you'll look exactly like a star of one of those seventies films," Harry offered.
"Just try to avoid wearing corduroy with this look," Hermione made a huge effort to be helpful and supportive.
"Nevermind my beard," Sirius finally changes the subject. "Did you ask Dumbledore? He doesn't answer my Floo calls."
Harry's face fell: "He said Screamgeour wasn't willing to listen. couldn't find the time to meet with me as well," he replied.
"Buggar," Sirius cursed. "I had some hope with a new Minister. He's a clever one. Knows me personally too."
"I'll find a way," Harry promised. "Listen, can you do us a favour? Are you willing to pop to Hermione's parents' with the mirror, so they can speak?" he added, when his godfather nodded.
"Right, a bit of fresh air will do me good. An hour?" Sirius agreed and disconnected.
Comfortable silence was back once more.
"Who are you inviting to the Christmas do?" Hermione asked after a while. Harry just shrugged. "You can ask almost anyone," She offered lightly.
"I don't want some girl to suffer me just to get to the party," he hissed. "Coming with me just for fame alone - even less."
"Are all of you blokes that dim?" she asked. "Half the castle will go with you anywhere, just to be with you. That includes a few of the chaps as well," Hermione smirked a little. "You grew tall, and got those shoulders," And those eyes! Hermione added in the quiet of her mind. "Even Lavender will probably drop Ron in two shakes, if you only asked."
Harry rolled his eyes at her and she turned and stared straight.
"I should do something nice for her," Hermione whispered. "The bint has probably just saved me from my possessive self."
Harry didn't know what to say. He also didn't want to go on discussing his dating options, so he turned the table. "And who are you gonna invite?" she tried to wave him off, but he kept going. "You're smart, pretty, got your hair tamed, and developed those," the motion he did with his hands made clear what he ment. This time, when Harry found himself giggling on the floor - it was well intended.
"Harry?" called the mirror just in time.
Next half an hour was brilliant. Everyone was smiling, plans for Christmas were made. With a promise of a soon to arrive meeting - the call ended.
"Hermione?" Harry said softly a long moment later. "I need to apologise to you for that book rubbish," he said. "I have overreacted."
For a moment, Hermione shined with a smile. "You're giving it back?!" Then her smile turned into a frown by his answer.
"Don't be daft? Someone, who had knowledge and ability, researched and experimented and included his,"
"Or hers!"
"Findings," Harry went on, as if he wasn't interrupted at all, "in this book. You already know it's plain brilliant? One has to be a blinking idiot not to try and learn from it, but you were right - we need to be careful."
"So?" she asked
"I am inviting you to research this with me?" he almost pleaded.
Hermione turned thoughtful. "I might have, ever so slightly, overreacted myself," she allowed, and made certain to ignore Harry's well satisfied smile.
"Thank you," she added, and kissed his cheek. "You're a good friend."
"What a lovely dress!" Hermione exclaimed. Justin, Dean, and Ginny, besides her, didn't look as convinced. "Can I help you a bit with your hair? Please?!"
Luna nodded hesitantly. Must have been hurt in the past by 'helpful' friends.
Or should the word 'friends' be inside those quotations?
But Hermione wasn't the one to hurt people, at least not unintentionally. By her sixth year, she was also getting rather good in handling unruly hair. Necessity and all. A few swishes of her wand arranged Luna's dirty-blond wavy hair into an intrinsic plait, which was neatly curled at the nap of her neck, now exposing her delicate neck for all to see. A delicate black beaded head-band, with a couple of black feathers, completed the now-very-20ish look nicely.
A few moments later, Hermione stood back, looking at her handy work with some satisfaction. Others looked on in astonishment. Luna herself looked at the mirror Ginny had Conjured for her in wonder, absentmindedly touching her exposed neck.
"Heard there's a Vampire visiting," Justine chuckled.
"She looks like a blood lolly," Dean agreed.
"Be nice!" Ginny slapped her boyfriend's arm. "You look lovely dear," she told Luna.
"Let us get to the party?" Harry concurred, and offered Luna his arm.
"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn's warm voice was heard by all, above the party sounds and music. Seconds later, Harry was being pulled around and introduced to the party goers.
"...And, of course, his friend Sanguini," he was introduced to the local Vampire curiosity. Sanguine, like his friend Eldred Worple, was dressed in clothes which could have come right off the set of The Addams Family film, which was strangely fitting. He was standing there, looking at Luna's exposed neck and licking his lips slightly.
"Is the Minister your friend, sir?" Luna asked the Vampire with great interest, not noticing just what his eyes were fixed at. "He's a Vampire too, but I'm certain you knew that," she added airily.
"Delighted to meet you here," Justin pushed into the conversation, certainly noticing. "Justin Finch-Fletchley," he introduced himself amicably, and offered his hand for a shake. "How do you do? May I introduce you to my date, the lovely Ms Hermione Granger?" He asked and Hermione smiled lightly. "She's the Hogwarts Slayer, y'know."
"Say, old bean," Dean joined in. "Is this stake-to-the-heart a real thing?" he asked, and Mr Sanguini blinked.
Just then, a fat beetle with peculiar markings around her eyes flew in between them all, on the look for fat sensational news. In a blink of an eye, Mr Sanguini's hand shoot out to pluck it out of the air, only to find it stopped by Hermione's holding his wrist.
"You can thank me later, Rita!" she called, smiling warmly towards him. "Delighted, I'm sure," she added towards the vampire.
"The nice Vampire didn't answer my question about the Minister," Luna lamented softly, after his hurriedly parting back.
They all went on to have a lovely evening. Food and drinks were excellent, music and dancing fun, and surprisingly enough - there were quite a few interesting people to visit with. Their fun evening was only interrupted twice - once, by Draco being caught trying to cut in on the party. Then, even more annoying, was McLaggen insisting on cutting in on Hermione's dance with Justin.
It was late at night when Harry finally walked Luna back to her common room.
"Look," she pointed him up. "Mistletoe!" While Harry looked up, she turned in his arms, waited for him to lower his face back, and kissed him softly. It lingered.
"That was nice," she said, and hugged him tightly.
"Hmm," he certainly agreed. "The nicest I have ever had, but I'm no expert."
"No," Luna agreed, "You're just a clueless boy," she smiled softly. "And the right one, to take you to the stars, is still too infested with Wrackspurt." She then kissed him on the cheek once more. "Goodnight Harry Potter, and thank you for this lovely evening," she said before turning to enter the Ravenclaw tower.
"It comes down to whether or not you trust Dumbledore," Remus stated decisively. Clearly, he reckoned, there was only one right answer to that question.
It was an awkward Boxing day party at the Burrow. Everyone seems to be walking on eggshells around everyone else. Finally Harry found refuge in the shack with Mr Weasley, saving dear Mrs Granger from his awkward and quite insisting questions regarding plugs and the occasional rubber duck. It earned him a thankful smile from Hermione.
"I have sent someone to Borgin and Burke's shop," Mr Weasley updated him. "The object Mr Malfoy is so interested in, according to your description, is a Vanishing Cabinet."
Harry asked for an explanation, never having heard of the contraption.
"Finicky contraptions, they are. Very sensitive," Mr Weasley added, after the explanation was given.
"There is one in Hogwarts, which Draco is trying to fix," Harry answered. "What happened to the one at Borgin & Burk's?"
"Nothing? It is still there," was the answer. "It's not illegal," Arthur then elaborated.
"Arthur, Arthur, Percy's here!" Molly's call cut their conversation short.
"I have wanted to meet you for a while now," The Minister said levelly, once the pretence of a family visit was waved and he and Harry found themselves out, alone, in the garden. "But Dumbledore is very protective of you," he added.
"Dumbledore told me you didn't have the time to meet with me," Harry's sarcasm was clear to hear.
For a long moment neither have said anything.
"Those Prophecy and 'Chosen' rumours flying around. Did the Headmaster say anything regarding?" the Minister finally asked.
"There were Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries," Harry answered," but the Death Eaters broke them all before we could see anything more than that," Harry evaded this question with the mostly-truth.
It took some circumspect talking for the Minister to get at it, but it all boiled down to that 'standing alongside the Ministry' rubbish.
"Do your best and I'll gladly tell everyone who'll listen you're doing so?" Harry offered.
Turns out "doing so" meant that the Ministry itself did bugger all while Harry told everyone that the Ministry is doing just great. "The Political background is complicated," the Minister explained. Harry just shrugged at that.
"What did you want to meet with me about?" The Minister asked after a short pause in the conversation.
"It's about my Godfather," Harry explained. "He's…"
But apparently, these were exactly the kind of actions, albeit probably right, that were unfeasible in the current complicated political background.
"Dumbledore's man through and through, aren't you, Potter?" the Minister finally asked grudgingly, when Harry blatantly refused to join in on his empty propaganda effort.
"Can't I be my own person, for a change?" Harry asked, but never got an answer.
It was late at night and everyone was getting ready to leave when Remus suddenly froze just out the door. Listening. Smelling. With one look at his friend, Sirius turned, took a long sniff, then turned back.
"There are people in the field," he warned. "Stay in!" he then instructed Hermione's parents.
Suddenly, a ball of fire was seen heading towards the Burrow. Soon enough Bellatrix Lestrange was standing there, mocking them, just before she had to run into the cornfield, to avoid the encircling flames trapping her too.
"Harry, no!" Sirius called after his godson as he ran out the door after the witch.
"Ventus!" Harry called, and a gust of wind opened enough of a gap in the flames for him to pass through.
"Hermione!" called her father, as she shot off right after him and through the flames, now fully encircling the house.
Remus was quick enough to grab Ginny when she tried to run after the two.
"Don't" Sirius told her, well - Seriously.
"I don't know how they did that," Tonks added, trying to probe the fire with her wand.
Harry soon found himself alone, in the middle of the tall corn.
"Little bitty baby Potter," came Bellatrix's mocking voice from somewhere ahead. "Do you know how to play?"
He could see nothing around. The only notable sound was the running noise coming from the direction of the Weasley home. Soon enough Hermione was standing beside him, breathing heavily. He hushed her with a finger to his lips and they both did their best to listen.
A long moment later Harry pointed in a certain direction and they started to move slowly that way, putting some distance between themselves. The shouts now coming from the direction of the house told them that their friends were yet to manage to overcome the flame barrier. Those also harmed his and Hermione's efforts to try and hear Bellatrix and whoever was there with her moving about. Soon enough they found themselves treading through shallow water.
On one hand, they now had a better view of their surroundings. On the other hand, Christmas isn't really the swimming season in Devon and the water was freezing cold. Third hand insisted that right now they were making more noise than the people they were trying to follow by sound.
Hesitantly, Harry moved out into the open space of the shallow pond. Hermione stayed at the water's edge, listening and looking around.
A sudden wind-gust sound startled Harry and when he turned back Bellatrix stood there, behind Hermione, holding her wand to his friend's throat.
"Little Harry isn't good at this game!" Her sing-song voice grated on his nerves. "Now you will give me your wand, and I will take you to the Dark Lord, or should I kill your friend then do so anyways?"
"Crucio," she then incanted, not waiting for Harry to respond. He had to watch his friend cry out and shake to her knees with pain. Fortunately, Bellatrix didn't hold the curse for long.
"Well?" she asked, and pushed the tip of her wand harder into Hermione's neck.
For a short moment Harry was indecisive, then he noticed that small smile that tagged at the corners of Hermione's lips. Also, her eyes were pointedly focused in a certain direction, at something behind his back. Then she moved.
As fast as he could, Harry turned to point his wand in the direction Hermione's eyes were pointing. Behind his back, now, he heard Bellatrix shrike in pain. Harry disregarded it for the moment. "Expulso," he called softly and watched as his spell tore through the shield of the unknown Death Eater standing there. What his spell did to the man made him want to honk. Harry then raised his own shield to stop whatever curse a third, previously concealed Death Eater has sent his way. That person didn't faff about and Apparated away as soon as his curse was blocked. Turning back, Harry saw Hermione's hand holding Bellatrix's. The reason for Bellatrix's shrikes of pain were clear to see - Her hand, fingers, and wand were all crushed and broken by Hermione's grip.
"I'll get you for it, mud-blood!" Bellatrix hissed, as soon as Hermione released her hand and took a step back. On the palm of Hermione's other hand a red crystal lit. Bellatrix used her good hand to reach into an inner pocket to bring out a beaded bracelet. "Back!" she grunted in pain.
From Hermione's left hand, though, a small ball of fire shot out, aimed at Bellatrix's good hand. Bellatrix disappeared, only to reappear back, on the ground, holding her cut off left hand close to her chest and giggling madly.
A wet sound coming from the direction of the pond told them just where the Portkey, as well as the hand holding it, had ended.
"Accio Portkey," Harry called and made sure to let the Protkey bracelet fall to the ground in front of him without him touching it. Hermione, meanwhile, picked up her wand, which she had formerly dropped, and did her best to stop Bellatrix from bleeding to death. She might hold some important information.
Running noises and some shoutings indicated that the others had finally managed to overcome the flames. First to arrive was Remus, who quickly took a few steps back to distance himself from Hermione and the wounded and giggling Bellatrix. Second was Tonks, who recognised the Carrow brother. She then promptly lost her dinner.
"I'll call the Headmaster," Mr Weasly announced.
"Call the Minister," Harry offered softly.
Huge shout to flyboy38, my beta, who took the time to make sure this story is a much better read.