Happy slightly belated Harry Potter day everyone. Tried to finish it on the second of may but I forgot that I still needed to spellcheck it so...
Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews.
Enjoy,
Privet drive was bathing in early sunlight. A light warm May breeze could be felt despite it being morning. One thing though did not quite fit the idyllic scene of shining cars, pristine flowers and singing birds was the dark shadow that had appeared at the end of the street, now stalking in with flowing robes. A shimmering of magic hung around the figure that would render him practically invisible to all onlookers who wouldn't directly stare at him. Not that many people were here to look yet, and Voldemort preferred it that way. It wasn't usual for him to stand up so early, but things had to be done and he sadly had needed to pick a time for that with as few possible witnesses.
He stopped right in front of number four, glaring at the window behind which Harry's old bedroom lay, the window frame still slightly damaged from where the bars had been pulled out nearly five years ago. The Muggles had attempted to cover it up by painting over it, but the damage had been considerable enough to not let itself be concealed so easily. Cracks still ran through the wood, and the bushes underneath the window had were much smaller than the others after having been completely destroyed.
The Dark Lord was surprised to hear voices coming out of the house, having expected them to sleep still, but then he realised that even these useless people still had jobs, and had to get up earlier. He checked the time and raised his eyebrows, -the only pieces of hair that had still remained on his body after the creation of all horcruxes, oddly enough.- Was half past six really an appropriate time to be up for work already? He played with the idea of crashing into the living room and dealing with them more directly, but he really should speak to Dudley first. To avoid any unnecessary commotion, he located where the boy was in the house -his bedroom- and then apparated into Harry's old bedroom which bordered on that of his cousin.
He looked around in dismay. It was as if Harry had never lived here t all, all evidence of his fiancé scrubbed away. Instead, the room had been newly decorated into a study, and even the bed had been removed, indicating that they weren't expecting their nephew to ever return. He looked at the freshly painted cream wall that separated him from Dudley. It was a shame that one needed a direct free line to cast the Imperius curse, otherwise he'd have been out of here much faster. As it was, he silently opened the bedroom door and scanned for signs of life. Both adult Dursleys were jabbering downstairs, leaving him enough time to enter Dudley's room.
Voldemort sneered when he saw the state the room was in, with broken toys and electronic devices scattering the space. In the middle was a king-sized bed in which Dudley was lying, sprawled out and snoring loudly. The Dark Lord raised his wand, pointed it at the boy and swiftly imperiused him. It was fascinating to watch someone who was under your complete control: they still acted and moved like any other human would, unlike when he would have used a puppet spell to only move the body by his own will. The eyes, however, were glazed over, ever so slightly that it would go unnoticed to one who wasn't looking for it. Dudley had woken up instantly, throwing off the blankets and grabbing some clothes of which Voldemort decided the boy should throw over his pajamas because he really did not want to see Dudley naked. He stepped out of the way when the teen went to the door like he ordered, walked through the corridor and down the stairs.
Interested in what would happen, the wizard stayed to overhear the conversation, from how Dudley's parents expressed their shock at seeing the teen up so early, to his excuses about how he had to go out to meet some friends. It didn't go quite as expected however. Dudley's running away and being 'kidnapped' as both other family members seemed to believe, had put a bit of a damper on his freedom, and especially his mother instantly went into hysterics about how Dudley shouldn't go out alone. The boy thankfully seemed slightly more innovative than Voldemort had imagined, because in the end he was able to convince them by leaving a phone number and claiming he would be right around the corner, and most definitely not alone. Well, both of those certainly weren't lies either.
Satisfied, the Dark Lord apparated outside again, this time pulling back into the shadows of a large flowering rhododendron at the other end f the street, standing in the garden of a house that was for sale. From behind the leaves, he saw Dudley sauntering down the street at an annoyingly slow pace. He commanded the boy to hurry up a bit, and pulled him behind the bushes when he was finally in reach, cancelling the Imperius spell.
Dudley came to his senses slowly, like all Muggles who had been under the influence of magic, unable to comprehend what happened or pull their mind together quickly. Some claimed it was their lack of magic that made them weaker to magical influence. Voldemort took it as a sign of that magicians were superior by nature and had higher brain functions. The boy's face turned from confusion to fear rather fast when he finally understood that he wasn't lying in bed anymore, and staring at what was probably for him the least expected face to wake up to.
''W...what?'' he stammered helplessly, pulling himself from Voldemort's grasp.
''Mr Dursley. Pleasure,'' Voldemort spoke slowly. ''I received your letter.''
Dudley's eyes went large and he was silent for a few moments as he just stared at the wizard's face.
''You are...'' he wheezed out, ''The Dark Lord. The High minister, I mean. Letter... I sent my letter to Harry...''
''I'm sure he mentioned that he lives with me?'' the man asked, arching an eyebrow. To be honest, he wasn't certain what Harry had or hadn't mentioned to his cousin exactly, but as Harry given Dudley the address of the manor, he did hope that his fiancé would not have neglected to tell that little fact. Knowing how forgetful Harry could be, chances were that he had indeed.
''Erhm.. well, not exactly. I did hear something about that from my friends but... I forgot. And Harry didn't say anything, just gave me the address to write to.'' The boy gulped audibly.
Marvolo growled lowly and muttered 'typical' before holding Dudley at an arm's length and looking him over. It was hard to believe that this person was really family of his dear Harry. ''Well, now you know again then. Harry is away and couldn't come personally, so I decided to discuss certain... details of that letter. Unspoken details mostly,'' he said threateningly. A threat that appeared to be wasted when Dudley gave a confused look.
''What do you mean?''
''Friends of your parents really?'' Voldemort snapped. Dudley cringed and avoided his gaze. ''Look at me,'' he hissed, and Dudley's fearful eyes shot up to his face again. It was hard to hold himself back when looking at the boy. It would be so easy to just torture all the information out of this sheep... A small smile played around his lips as he thought about it. Harry would not be happy but... he'd get over that soon enough if it wasn't too much. At least he finally agreed to killing the other two Dursleys, that was a step in the right direction.
To his surprise, Dudley suddenly sank to his knees and made a bow as graceful as he could manage, which was made very hard by the teen's posture. ''I know that my family has failed you, High minister,'' the boy said in a trembling voice. ''But I'd do anything, anything to restore that. I have realised that the world is much better as it is now, and it is thanks to you that we now have access to so many amazing things.''
The wizard gazed down on the blond crown of hair, sighing inwardly at how much Dudley and Wormtail were alike, both sniveling and sucking up to whoever was in thir best interest at the moment. It certainly wasn't out of any sense of loyalty to Harry that Dudley had chosen the side of magicians, but pure self-preservation and the hope of gaining power through the right people. He supposed that for now he could play along, especially as it was a game he was a master in since the first days he'd gathered people around him in Slytherin.
''I will not forget your contribution to this country then, when the time comes. But I need more information than what you have given me. The names you gave of the people on this 'hit list' are a start, but I need more: who is in this group, who leads it, where do they meet, how do they plan on executing their plans?''
''I... I don't remember all the names,'' Dudley said, looking up in confusion. ''It's not just one group either. It's two who came together, and more will probably join. One is called...'' His brows furrowed in deep thought. ''Britain's best or something.. or Britain's top? No, first! Britain's first, that's it. The other is just the anti-magic-group or something. The leaders of the first one are a couple called the Dawson's. They.. well, they came to our house a few times, they've been contacts of my father for years. I don't know anything about the leaders or so of the other group.''
''And where is the meeting place?''
''I think they always rent something different. You know, to not get caught. Mum and dad drove last time while I played games on the back seat so I don't really remember where it was. Outside of London somewhere.''
''Any information on how they want to kill the people you mentioned?''
''Nothing yet. They weren't sure yet themselves. One suggested hiring someone to do it, another to first get more info... or try to sneak into the ministry and then do it themselves. Could also be that only the leaders will make that decision on their own.''
''It's not an awful lot,'' The Dark Lord sneered, not very pleased with this lacking information. ''Do you think you can get more involved in this group? I need answers to many questions, and I cannot risk sending anyone who would seem out of place.''
''Err.. what do you mean with involved? And what is in it for me?''
''In it for you?'' he asked, eyes narrowing. Finally, it was time to raise his wand against the boy. It was a shame he could not enjoy the screams... silence wards were not as good at silencing spells placed upon a person, and while they kept all noise inside that was on the volume of a normal conversation, piercing screams would still have a slight chance of ripping shreds in the barrier. One tiny tear would be enough... But it was fun to watch Dudley's eyes nearly pop out of his sockets, his tongue starting to bleed as teeth gnashed on it in a pain that overwhelmed every other sensation.
Lazily, Voldemort lifted the spell, and Dudley lay on the ground, now whimpering and rocking back and forth.
''That is in it for you, if you don't do as I tell you to.'' he threatened. This boy really could have been a Slytherin if only he wasn't so obvious about his greed.. or so stupid. It made the man cringe to know he had to rely on a Muggle like this, but what he said had been the truth: anyone else he would choose would not fit in with this clique, and secret organisations did not hold open recruitments. This was the best he had. Great start, he thought sarcastically. Perhaps, if the occasion would arise, one of his followers could go with under an invisibility cloak and infiltrate one of the meetings to get some real information.
Dudley gazed up in fear, still shivering. ''What do I need to do?'' he asked, clearly desperate.
''You join this group. I will leave a list of questions I have about it, and every meeting, you'll try to answer as many of them as possible. I'll write it down to make sure your puny brain won't forget.'' The creature at his feet pressed its face in the grass again. Maybe Dudley was actually worse than wormtail... the Dark Lord would have fun finding out. ''Stand up,'' he barked. The boy obeyed as soon as he could, rather ungracefully getting to his feet.
Voldemort concentrated on his magic and let it encase Dudley. It faintly glowed before disappearing. ''I'll be able to find you no matter where you go. Don't think of running. Also, you will find it... peculiarly hard to speak about certain details, such as this conversation, to anyone, friend or foe alike.''
The boy nodded mutely, staring at the bone-white wand that had just made his flesh feel like melting. A thin smile played around Voldemort's mouth. ''Very well. Then run back to your parents now, and tell them what a grand decision you've made.''
The time she had dreaded for was finally there. The other Gryffindor girls had gone off to Divination, and Hermione's free hour was stretching out before her. A free hour in which she had no excuse to run away from the beetle that she knew was scurrying over the walls of the girl's dorms, impatiently waiting. Rita hadn't been there last evening, giving her some time to think, but lunch time and her promise to give Ron an answer was drawing closer, and knowing that Skeeter would be there right now, Hermione could not avoid it any longer. The girl drew a deep breath, held a heavy tome pressed against her chest to feel slightly protected, and went upstairs.
''Rita?'' she whispered, prying that the woman wouldn't be there -but of course, luck wouldn't have it. The woman knew her schedule, and was usually to be found here when Hermione had one of her rare hours where she was also certain to be alone in the dorms.
''No need to whisper sweetie,'' a sharp, slightly overly sweet voice spoke. The woman had already transformed and was writing with a short, bright orange feather that flew over parchment sheets. ''No-one has been here in a while, or will be here anytime soon. I also haven't seen you for a while.'' Bright teeth flashed, and Hermione's face grew warm when she took in the woman's strict business look and perfectly groomed hair and make-up.
''I've been... busy. My friends returned to Hogwarts. Well, kind of.''
''Friends?''
''Harry. And... and Ron.'' She stumbled a bit over the name, gripping her book a bit tighter, but Rita seemed to not notice.
''Oh, those. Well, have fun catching up.'' She waved her crimson-painted fingernails. ''Now, come here. I want to show you what I wrote. I bundled up some of Dumbledore's deepest memories, and got a nice juicy chapter out of it: 'Why the proudest magical family turned to ash'. I plan on putting in some bits and pieces of how he and his brother grew apart, the heart-breaking story of how Albus abandoned his mother and broke his little sister...'' Hermione had come closer to look over her shoulder, and yelped when Rita pulled her down next to her and snuggled close. ''Good, isn't it?'' The lipstick was clearly scented, and it wafted in Hermione's nose, though not uncomfortably so.
She sighed deeply, and the woman gave her a sideways look. ''What is it sweetie? You look so depressed. Don't you like my story?''
''You know I'm not a fan of pulling people through the mud but that's not it... Rita... what do we have, exactly? What am I to you?''
''Partners in crime, of course!'' she woman said, laughing it off, her blond curls bouncing as she threw her head in her neck. ''Oh, lighten up. What is this about?''
''I'm completely serious!'' Hermione said, suddenly furious. ''You always storm in and... and make comments and seem almost flirty, push me against a wall and then draw back. What do you want? Is it just fun for you to rile me up? Or do you actually want something more from me? Because I can't take all this frustration and these confusing feelings!'' She'd stood up now, face red and hair sticking out everywhere. She knew her lips were trembling, but she finally wanted answers.
Rita gave her a taxing look, as if trying to judge how serious it was and what words would be appropriate. ''It's exciting to rile you up,'' she finally said. ''I like being here, and yes, I admit I am even attracted to you. That's why I like our little game.''
''Game?'' Hermione spluttered, while Skeeter to smooth out the hardly noticeable creases in her skirt.
''Sweetie,'' the woman sighed, as if starting an explanation in front of a class of three-year olds. ''I am a reporter. I have a reputation. I am the one who puts people down, but I would never risk leaving a murky trail behind myself. The Dark Lord may be able to get away with having a teenage lover, but for a respectable author such as me whose life depends on the media, I can't afford to be linked to pedophilia. It is a game, Hermione, and it can never be more than that. I hope you did not have any... illusions?'' perfectly curled dark lashes fluttered a few times, making a mockery of the pitiful look Rita gave her.
The girl did not know how to react or what to feel. On one side, the complete dismissal felt like a slap in the face. On the other hand, this did make things a lot less complicated with Ron. Maybe she should just be relieved about it, but she couldn't help the feelings of betrayal and disappointment streaming through her and welling up in her eyes.
''I understand,'' Hermione said. The clump that was suddenly in her throat made it harder to sound as confident as she wished to. ''Then I also want to make something clear: The game is over. You write your book, then we're done.''
A cloud spread over Rita's features. ''Done?'' she asked, her voice turning into ice. ''Are you throwing me out?''
''Yes,'' Hermione said, squaring her shoulders. ''Yes I am. We will be business partners, nothing more.''
''You really were full of illusions hm?'' the woman asked her, and the old facade slipped away a bit to reveal hard features. ''Don't get me wrong my dear... You did grow on me quite a bit. My career just comes first. Business, you know.''
''I know... Have a good time Rita. Contact me again when you need help with the chapters.'' Their eyes met for a moment, both filled with slight regret. Then, paper flattered about and shrunk to less than the size of a stamp at the same time two metallic green wings spread out and a light buzzing filled the room. Rita flew away, a trail of tiny enchanted paper pieces following the insect.
Hermione shivered and sat down on her bed. She didn't know what else she had expected. Angry outbursts as Rita would have fought over her? But after lying awake most all of last night about it, she didn't even get to the point of having to tell the woman that she'd kissed Ron. How odd things could go sometimes. All that worrying for nothing... absolutely nothing.
But no, that wasn't true, she realised. There hadn't truly been anything between Rita and her except what her fantasies had spun. But Ron was there, kind and waiting, and Hermione felt horrible for her thoughts. Maybe she really was the heartbreaker Rita once had made her out to be in the Prophet. But was it her fault that emotions had to be so complicated sometimes, and that there was so much to be felt at once? She wished that she would be able to talk to Ron about it, but especially now, it was not a good idea to tell him that he wasn't the only one she had feelings for. Not now he had travelled so far just to see her again, not after their kiss...
''I have got to get myself in a grip,'' she scolded herself, pulled at her hair and furiously started to pack her bag for the next class. One hour of runes, and then it would be lunchtime... time for her to meet up with Harry and Ron in the Room of Requirements again.
All through Runes, she couldn't concentrate much, thinking of what she should do, or say, and especially what she should leave out. She wished that she had something more urgent to concentrate on, something logical with a clear plan and goal in mind, such as when she had had to intermediate between goblins and magicians, or even when she had been solving problems the years before. She'd always been the most emotional of the three of them, she thought, but she still wasn't very good when it came to reacting on them herself, only giving advice to others.
When class was over, it didn't take long for her to get to the corridor in front of the hidden room, but when she walked back and front of the aged blank wall, thinking of Ron and Harry, the door didn't appear. She frowned, wondering if that meant they weren't here. She could imagine that they also had other things to do, but she had said that she'd come by during lunchtime Had she been mistaken? Was Ron not looking forward to this as much as she had? But then what about his speech yesterday, and what about him coming all the way here to see her?
A commotion drew her attention away from the dusty bricks, and her heart sank when she heard the rather loud voice of Harry:
''You don't understand! No, we haven't come to.. just listen to me!'' Half-running, Hermione approached the noise, drawing her wand in case anything had gone wrong.
''No, you don't understand! All these years you made a fool out of us, out of me. I thought we were friends!''
The girl finally arrived at the source of the commotion: Harry and Ron, both standing with wands raised... against a third figure in the corner, who held a wand in both of his shaking hands: Neville.
''We are! Well, at least I always considered you my friend...'' Harry trailed off. ''You believed me when everyone thought I was nuts after Voldemort had returned and-''
''And now you went to him and are playing by his agenda, I know.'' Neville darkly said. ''You are the one who made it possible for him to take over this country. Even my grandma says that we should have seen you for what you are. After that whole thing with the Chamber of Secrets... no, even with the Philosopher stone. Who could survive two encounters like that if not protected by dark magic? I bet that You-Know-Who let you go himself?''
''Neville, back then I believed in Dumbledore as much as you did. I escaped from those things by sheer luck. It was only right before this school year began that my views changed-''
''Look man,'' Ron threw in. ''I was also skeptical at first, but there were a lot of weird things not adding up, and this whole light thing wasn't all it was made out to be either. Dumbledore was willfully raising Harry to be slaughtered by the Dark Lord.'' Hermione did not have a good feeling about this. Ever since the war had been won by the Dark, the boy had developed from his shy demeanor, being more active, better in class, more determined... All that was only fueled by the fact that Luna had gone home instead of staying at Hogwarts. Apparently her father, a known supporter of the Dark through his articles, had deemed it too dangerous for his daughter to stay at a school full of Order members. Neville had taken that hard.
Neville glowered at him. ''The Dark Lord,'' he scoffed. ''You even talk like a Death Eater now. I heard you were responsible for a large part of the slaughter in London, you hypocrite. You're wasting your time. I will... I will fight you, I'll fight you both if I have to, and then we'll see what McGonagall does with you!''
''I'm really sorry for this Neville,'' Harry quietly said, and Hermione could hear that her friend meant it. A moment later, he nodded to Ron, who quickly sidestepped an disarmed Neville in a flash. Harry caught the wand, and while Neville struggled, Ron silenced him before he could scream or help. Still, they weren't safe, because Hermione could hear footsteps of more than one person heading their way now, and she quickly threw up shields to conceal the four of them. Harry gave her a nod, as if he'd noticed her being there all this time.
The two boys joined hands, grasping both wands together and pointed them at Neville, whose eyes widened as he struggled, against invisible bonds this time.
''Amnesia!''
The word pushed against Hermione' silencing wards for a moment before shredding them, but at least there was no more shouting right after, and the notice-me-not charms held strong. The girl was surprised at how much power went through the combined wands, a move she hadn't seen before. Ron had much better reflexes and spellwork than she had thought possible when he'd left, only a few months ago. Had war changed him that much, or had he had special combat training?
Neville sank to the floor, an empty look in his eyes that worried Hermione. It had certainly been a memory loss charm, but apparently different from the usual Obliviate, so she wasn't certain of what the effects would be. As if in a trance, Neville suddenly rose from the ground and started walking towards her. Hermione quickly stepped back and raised her wand higher, but Neville took no notice of her and continued his slow steps, walking straight past her. The other boys just watched him go, doing nothing to stop him.
''What was that?'' she asked, curious about the spell.
''A type of forgetfulness,'' Harry said. ''It doesn't erase any memories so it doesn't damage his brain, just pushes them far away. I figured that it would be perfect for Neville, who is so forgetful on his own already. I doubt that he'll ever find it again. In time the memory will go away on its own if it's not transferred to his long-term memory.''
''I'm impressed. And the whole trance?''
''It has some hints of... well, you should probably restore that silence barrier before we talk further.''
''You noticed it?'' she raised her eyebrows. The old Ron would never have been able to feel a shield like that being put up, let alone when it fell.
''I saw you create one,'' he admitted. ''And the volume of our spell should have broken it. Sorry to disappoint,''
''No, no it's okay, I just thought... It's still impressive that you saw me coming while being busy with Neville. But maybe it is better to go to the Room of Requirement before talking further...'' The two agreed, and they quickly made their way over to the blank wall again. Upon entering the room that Harry had created, Hermione noticed that it was slightly different from before. The same comfortable couches were standing there, but there were many more books and games to be seen.
''So, what was that trance Neville was in?'' she asked after they had all settled on the couches.
''Ah, yes. Well, it's basically a combination between a memory altering charm and the Imperius curse,'' Ron admitted. ''The Dark Lord taught me. You're basically willing the person to take that memory and push it in a far corner of their own mind where they won't find it again. After a short while, the Imperius effect will wear off on its own, which is why I told him to go to the furthest edge of the castle before returning to Gryffindor tower, using the least common routes. By the time he's back he'll have forgotten that he walked around so much in the castle and hopefully think he never left the tower to begin with.''
''Hopefully?'' Hermione cringed at how it sounded.
''Well, I haven't had an awful lot of time to practise,'' Ron defended himself. ''The time that it takes for them to come to their senses is not very predictable for me yet. But hey, he'll certainly won't be able to remember this encounter, and it's Neville, so he might just think he got lost if it wears off too early.''
''And if he' back in the common room before it wears off? Won't his blank stare be suspicious?''
''Not to be nasty but... it's not as if Neville really has friends who will notice...'' Ron shrugged. ''Even in the guy's dorms, everyone mostly leaves each other alone. We don't talk about how everyone is feeling 'Mione.'' he faltered and turned slightly red, possibly remembering that they would have a talk about feelings quite soon.
It was Harry who broke the awkward silence: ''You know, we won't be here for that long, and I do have my invisibility cloak and such with me. We should maybe visit Hagrid!''
Awkward talks were instantly forgotten as both Hermione and Ron stared at him in disbelief. It was Ron who first got up the courage to disagree: ''You want to talk to Hagrid... Hagrid, who is a part of the Order, Hagrid, who would have followed Dumbledore to his own grave? Hagrid, who got expelled from Hogwarts because of what your sweet love did?''
''Yes, that Hagrid,'' Harry said defensively. ''The Hagrid who has always stuck with us, no matter how many secrets we pulled out of him. The Hagrid that did everything possible to help us survive, the Hagrid that once stormed into Dumbledore's office to defend my reputation. The same man who kept me alive during the Triwizard Tournament by showing me the dragons...''
''Harry,'' Hermione groaned. ''I won't deny that Hagrid did a lot of great things, but he did all those when you were still on Dumbledore's side, on the 'good' side. You're supposed to be his enemy now, do you really think he's just going to have a nice chat with us in his hut? He has even avoided talking to me whenever we cross paths just because I am friends with you.''
''Has he?'' Harry muttered, a shadow falling over his face. ''I see...''
''I did go to his house a couple of times myself so he couldn't avoid confrontation, and he seems to be in some sort of dream-world...'' she reluctantly admitted. ''He's completely disillusioned about you and Ron. Doesn't want to believe anything of what you have done. Still thinks you're being manipulated or have been kidnapped or something. He's reluctant to speak to anyone who might have information that could shake him out of it. Deep down he knows that it is true, of course.''
''Isn't that a good thing that he believes me innocent? He won't attack us if he thinks that.''
''No, Harry, don't you see? For now he's harmless but he has ties to many dangerous creatures. Imagine what would happen if you'd shatter his happy world where you are a harmless, light, if maybe a bit misguided child? If you'd force him to accept that you really did go to the Dark Side that he hates so much?''
''It's Hagrid,'' Harry stubbornly said. ''He'll be fine. Surely he won't think we are suddenly completely different people. Remember that we also did quite a lot for him, from trying to clear his name when he was under suspicion of opening the Chamber, to saving Buckbeak. He can't just throw that away right? I'm sure that, if we explain why we went to the Dark side...''
''But you didn't have a reason that he'd think too great,'' Ron commented, frowning. ''You went to Voldemort in the first place because he got you away from the Dursleys and you got attracted to him. It was a pretty selfish reason if you don't mind me saying.''
Harry did mind, bristling at his friend's words. ''But I stayed there because I was explained the plans and views from another perspective, one that I liked. As Marvolo unraveled Dumbledore's plans to me, I saw how wrong I'd been. And I was not the only one. The Twins figured it out themselves, you and Hermione were shown the truth, Tonks joined up with us, and even Sirius came around, even though that took a few tries, admittedly. And they certainly weren't the only ones. I mean, what believes is the Order left with, really, if you ignore Dumbledore's power play?''
''That Dark Magic is dangerous and shouldn't be used...'' Hermione started. ''And that Muggles are equal to magicians. Harry, don't look at me like that, you know it is true. The Dark Lord doesn't want to slaughter all Muggles, but neither does he think they should have the same rights. Mum and dad are second-ranked citizens now even if they don't see it. The government has been replaced by wizards and witches only, the Queen has no power anymore, and all major companies are either taken over by magicians or run to the ground because their owners mysteriously disappeared. Yes, the Order had many misconceptions about the Dark - that they wanted a large bloodbath, or that Muggleborns would become slaves to the Purebloods, or that creatures would have their rights taken away for example, but they do still have some good points''
''Whose side are you on exactly?'' Harry asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
''You know very well that I follow you, and thus also the Dark Lord,'' the girl said quickly. ''Laws are improving, magic is freer and when looking at magicians and magical beings, there is actually more equality now. But there is never one side that is completely right or wrong, and the Order is not evil in itself.''
''Dumbledore turned out to be evil!'' Ron threw in. ''He messed with our heads and...and used Harry, and wanted power above all!''
Hermione shook her head and sighed when looking at the two boys. ''Not even Dumbledore was evil. He thought it would be a good thing to keep things as they were while bringing more power to himself, a figurehead who could keep order into the world. And he had some believes that even aligned with the Dark: he always tried to treat creatures fairly and equally to humans, just look at Hagrid, or Lupin, or the house-elves of Hogwarts. And he did not judge a person's worth as much by blood-status as many in the Ministry do now. While the Dark Lord and Sirius prevented laws from being made that would give purebloods a higher status than Halfbloods and Muggleborns, the general opinion between those in the ministry now is still that there is a difference... a difference that Dumbledore fought to erase. What brought him down was that he was willing to go too far to reach his goals and keep the world as it was. He was not beyond gruesomely sacrificing those who trusted him if it meant more lives would be 'saved', whereas the Dark Lord sacrifices enemy lives to still his blood thirst.''
It was sadly always very difficult to argue with Hermione, and she made more points than Harry would have liked to hear in favour of the fallen headmaster and his followers. ''So to summarise...'' he said, slightly annoyed at how she had turned around what he'd wanted to say.
''To summarise,'' she replied, putting her hands in her side, ''Hagrid has perfectly good reasons to be for the Light: Dumbledore was good to him and to the Giants, he dislikes Dark Magic and even has a personal grudge against the Dark lord. On top of that, being expelled from Hogwarts, Hagrid would not be the first in line for open use of magic everywhere: he'd be arrested anyways as he's not allowed to use magic anymore following his expulsion. Dumbledore always let that slide a bit, but the current government would not. There is nothing to win by going to and talking with Hagrid. Just please, leave it be.''
Harry looked to Ron for support, but his friend also seemed to think about Hermione's words and hesitated. It was only now that Harry realised how much he missed the man, and how much of a father figure he'd been before Sirius had shown up. To be so near but not able to go to him was torture.. ''Just a look,'' he finally said, holding up his hands at Hermione's exasperated face. ''No talking, I promise. I'll be under my invisibility cloak and will go down to his home to look for a bit. I won't be long. In the meantime you and Ron have time to talk...'' And before either could stop him, Harry had swung the cloak over himself and disappeared, leaving Hermione and Ron standing there. Hermione jumped up as the door opened to the rest of the castle, but Harry had closed it before she'd even taken a few steps.
''No chance he left the map with you did he?'' she sighed. Ron just shook his head and gave her an odd look. ''What?'' He shrugged and stared in the other direction, making her just as confused as Skeeter had made her before. ''What?'' she repeated, this time with more urgency.
''You told me yesterday... well, not sure how to put it. It's lunchtime now...''
He didn't need to say much more, but Hermione had preferred if he wouldn't have been so direct about it. Her mind was still whirling with arguments about Harry and the Order that it took her a moment to pull herself together to be able to switch the topic to more personal matters.
''have you changed your mind about us?'' Ron pressed. The boy's ears turned slightly red and he still didn't meet her eyes. Hermione felt her heart melt a bit as he sat there, all tensed up and waiting for her reply. She took a few tentative steps in his directions and put her hands on his shoulder, trembling slightly. Why was this so much harder than it had been with Viktor? Was it because she had known Ron as a friend for so long?
He looked up and took her hand, pulling her down until she was sitting next to him. Hermione could count every dark freckle on his face, and his blue eyes were amazingly bright up close. She didn't know if it would make things more or less awkward, but figured she didn't know what to say anyways, so just crashed their lips together. ''I haven't changed my mind at all,'' she finally said, a few breathless minutes later. ''I only wished you would be able to stay longer this time.'' Ron apologetically looked down.
''I'm sorry that I'll have to leave again... but you'll soon be done with this school year, and you know I'll wait for you. let's just... enjoy these days until Harry decides we need to return?''
''Let's,'' she replied, smiling brightly. Thoughts of Skeeter were banished to a dark place in her mind, and all her worries dissolved as they held each other tightly.
It had been three days since the visit of the Italian Minister of Magic, and his headache was finally beginning to fade. Italy really had proven to be the most troublesome country regarding Voldemort's policies, but at least the magical government was slightly thankful for all the refugees they had taken in. Sirius leaned back in his chair and enjoyed the afternoon sun as he thought of what to do next. His office had finally been completely decorated, with a second fireplace that connected directly to his other office in the underground Ministry building. It was a bit of a hassle to move in between the two buildings and several departments, especially as he could not receive the memos from the old building in his new due to floo powder only working with an address that was vocalised, and asking his employees to send memos in howler format also went a bit far...
He mused over how to solve the problem or a while, and got to the conclusion that the Weasley Twins, with all their nifty inventions, might have an idea. His agenda was empty for the rest of his workday, and a nice stretching of his legs might be a good idea. A trip to Diagon alley was always worth it.
Having made up his mind, he gathered up his papers, then notified his secretary Cyran that he was heading out. The man's protests about him being unreachable in case of emergencies was easily quelled by giving the man full responsibility over any guests. A short floo trip later he landed in the Leaky Cauldron, which had not changed much since the battle of London: it was still an area that had been so covered in spells and barriers that it had hardly been touched by Muggles. The only ones who ever came here were parents from Muggleborns who were led to Diagon Alley by their children or Muggle spouses who came with their significant other to also enjoy a touch of the Wizarding world.
As a result, the room was still filled with the same old dusty wooden tables and chairs, the barman still cleaned his glasses with the same rag, and groups of people were still enjoying their firewhiskey, elfwine and mead as they chatted in low voices. The only clear differences were that a woman in the middle rather openly showed her Dark Mark, a man a few tables down was loudly discussing that his son had been bitten by a werewolf and that he was wondering how it would be, and the collection of old pictures on the walls had been expanded to include dark famous wizards and witches.
''Hello Tom,'' Sirius spoke, raising his hand to greet the barman. ''Been a while.''
''Minister Black,'' the innkeeper answered, forming a wry smile. Tom hadn't had it very easy: several ambitious people had tried to gain possession off the famous inn since the Light side had lost. It had been well known that Tom had had ties to Dumbledore and the Order, but in the end there had not been enough proof, and Sirius knew that, despite sending Christmas cards to a few Order members and being a friend of Hagrid, the man hadn't actually done anything to actively support the Order and thus couldn't be accused of any crimes. Tom had done his best to open up for new clientele and keep the Leaky Cauldron running.
It was more than what could be said about most shopkeepers in Diagon. Both Amanuensis Quills and Slug & Jiggers Apothecary had been closed down because the owners had fought with the Light side during the war. The civil war, Sirius reminded himself. While that one was officially over, an international war was only just starting and would most definitely last for years to come. In either case, the owner of Amanuensis had been killed, and the Apothecary owners were imprisoned now. Many shops had also switched owners, such as Obscurus books, the Junk shop and Potage's cauldron shop, which had been rebranded as Ahenum's Potion Supplies and did not only sell cauldrons anymore, but also flasks, bottles, scales etcetera.
''Want a drink, Minister?'' Tom suddenly asked, and Sirius realised that several people had started to stare at him as he'd let his gaze wander through the shabby inn.
''No, no,'' he replied, shaking his head. ''Sorry, just sunken in thoughts. I'm just passing through.'' He approached the back door and stepped into the small tiled courtyard with garbage bins and tapped the bricks with his wand. Looking at his wand always sent a small sting through him: On one hand, it was his original, as he'd lost it the day he'd been captured and sentenced to Azkaban. On the other hand, it was Dumbledore who had returned it to him, leaving him with mixed feelings about it.
The archway opened up, and a rather silent Diagon Alley was revealed. Sirius' senses instantly went on alert, until he realised that it was in the afternoon on a weekday, which automatically meant that not many people would be shopping right now.
As soon as he had stepped through, he heard a cry: ''Minister Black!'' Sirius whipped around and cursed softly, hoping that the archway would close up so he could escape, but no such luck. Just when the bricks started moving again to fall back in place, a gaudy woman slipped through, a wide smile plastered on her face and colourful paper and quills in her hands.
''Betty Braithwaite, Minister Black. Reporter for the Daily Prophet, how fancy meeting you, the readers have been longing to hear more of your inspiring words!'' Her voice sounded as fake as the countless rings and bracelets she was wearing, and her green dyed perm made her look like she had sickly cotton candy on her head.
This was really one of the things that he detested most about being high placed: having the same newspaper that slandered him for more than a decade, up until the very last moment, suddenly turn around now he was a popular and powerful figure. He didn't always mind the press... the Quibbler was alright, even though Lovegood was quite easily influenceable by the Death Eaters as long as they gave him conspiracy theories, and even magazines like Witch Weekly at least had standards that they stuck to and gave proper explanations when they suddenly published stories from another point of view. But the Prophet...
Sirius was really surprised that Voldemort had allowed the Prophet to exist in its current form for so long: certainly, they were easily influenced by the government and most people gave the newspaper much more credibility than it was worth, but it had caused so much trouble in the past that at least a rebranding and combing out of the worst staff members such as this woman would have been a good idea. Sirius didn't personally like the idea of press-controlling, but if it was happening already anyways -which it was on a large scale and had been for centuries by every magical government without exception- then they might a well do it thoroughly. How it stood now, the paper was pressed to write about certain topics, leave things out and put in certain points of view, but the writing quality was still very poor and overly sensational. And when he looked at the reporter in front of him, he could understand completely why that was.
''Minister, what made you come to Diagon Alley today?'' the woman said, placing a strange metal device under his mouth. Microfone shot through his head. Probably one of the Weasley's devices. Their product line of magic Muggle devices was booming since they had completed their research on them. There still was no large-scale production because they still lacked an appropriate source of magic to power them with, but their own magic was enough to keep several types of devices in stock and make them on demand.
''I would prefer if interviews are scheduled and go through my secretary first,'' he grimly said. Really, after years the press still hadn't learnt that they were never going to get any answers when just running up to and bothering politicians. He strode past the woman, who instantly started walking with him, trying to press the small device to his face.
''Just a tiny bit of information? a hint, a-'' She yelped as something hit her, and Sirius looked around in confusion. His gaze wandered over the near-empty cobblestone street, the stone and plaster walls of the shops, finally coming to rest at a figure standing in a narrow alleyway between two buildings. A wand disappeared between the folds of a long, black cloak of the person standing there, half in the shadow of the alley, and covered partially by the large wooden advertising panel of Eeylops owl Emporium. At his belt, a gleaming Death Eater mask was fixed, and a miniscule nod was given into Sirius' direction. The reporter instantly was nowhere to be seen anymore for which Sirius was grateful, but he disliked getting the help of any of Voldemort's followers except the Twins, no matter with what that was.
''Black,'' the person spoke. It was a sneering voice that Sirius would have recognised anywhere. Now he came closer, he also saw plucks of blond, almost white hair beneath the hood.
''Lucius Malfoy... it has been a while.''
The hood was drawn back, revealing a pointy face and steely grey eyes. ''Indeed it has been. You've held yourself better at your position than many would have thought.''
''Hope you didn't bet your house on me failing,'' the man retorted.
Ignoring the comment, Lucius pressed on: ''But I see you still don't know the subtleties of using the press. A shame. Thankfully for you, I was around and you didn't have to come across as too incredibly rude by hexing her instead of me.''
''So how are you faring?'' Sirius asked, trying to change the subject to steer it away from his apparent incompetence with the press. ''Haven't exactly been Voldemort's favourite like in the first war eh? How come, did you mess up something big? It must sting to have me in the position you always longed for.'' To his annoyance, he didn't see the furious look he'd expected. Instead, Malfoy smiled thinly, almost as if looking down on him.
Malfoy leaned closer so no other stray pedestrians might overhear them and whispered: ''Oh my, you really are out of the loop when it comes to the Dark Lord, aren't you? You can't imagine how far I am placed above you, Black. While you sit at your desk scribbling letters and dinner party invitations, I am doing the real work.'' With a smug grin, he pulled back, standing upright and looking down on Sirius once again. It didn't help that Malfoy was taller than he was.
''Bugger off,'' he replied. ''why did you even intervene in the first place?''
''Why do you think, mutt?'' Lucius hissed. ''You're in public! Hex reporters all you want behind closed walls, but you are the face of this new regime. People look up to you, you can't just be rude to everyone... this is why you never made it to Slytherin.''
''And what a horrible fate that was, being in Gryffindor instead'' Sirius bit back. ''You know, being in a room with people who don't constantly want to stab you in the back and are your actual friends!''
''Oh yes, worked out great with Pettigrew, don't you think?'' Malfoy sneered. He grabbed Sirius' arm before wands could be drawn in rage. ''And don't be foolish, Black, not out here on the street!''
''Later then,'' Sirius hissed back. ''I'll make you pay for that comment. A duel: you, me and seconds only.'' Their eyes bored into each other's, steel against steel. Then Malfoy released a chortled laugh.
''Seconds? Don't trust that you can deal with me alone after all? Very well, I'll humour you. Three days should be enough for you to prepare and find an ally... maybe I'll even be fighting two mutts, how exciting would that be?'' With that, Malfoy released his wrist and walked away, cloak billowing gracefully behind him. Sirius only glowered at the disappearing form. He had not thought his trip to Diagon Alley would have such unpleasant turns so quickly after each other. First press, now this... At least he had gotten a legal opportunity to finally beat Malfoy's face to pulp, that was something. He hoped that Harry would have returned by then so his godson could watch. A few seconds later Sirius realised that Harry had become buddies with Lucius Malfoy as well and groaned.
Such was his mood when he finally stormed over the threshold of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes: Irritated and vengeful. His gaze was instantly drawn towards a new table in the middle, featuring 'anti-enemy' pranks that were borderline legal, and that by Voldemort's legal standards. If only he could use some of those to wipe the smug grin off of Malfoy's face. Maybe he would do so after the duel, no matter the outcome of it.
He suddenly realised that he had probably been a bit rash with the challenge. He didn't have much time to train himself, and he also had very little information on how Malfoy fought. His best source of information would have been Harry, but his godson was still at Hogwarts and unreachable. Somehow, he also didn't think that Voldemort or his followers would be very inclined to help, while Malfoy had access to a treasure trove of information on Sirius' battle style, both from the wars where they had fought against each other and Sirius had obviously been recognisable without a mask, and also from his Death Eater friends Sirius had fought before. His best bet would be to change fighting styles, but in three days that was no easy feat.
The shop was, like the rest of Diagon, emptier than usually. A couple of young men was hanging near the love potions, and several other people were browsing through the rows and rows of high-stacked products. For some reason though, the flashing, colourful display did not confuse his senses as much as usual. It would be nice if he would actually be getting used to it, but it was probably because of current state of mind.
''Minister!'' Sirius started glowering again at the title, until he realised who had spoken.
''Arthur?''
The man had changed since Sirius had last seen him. He seemed to have recovered a bit and was carrying stacks of boxes. The tattered robes he had worn for several months after the death of his wife had finally been shed and replaced by the magenta uniform robes that all shop employees wore. His eyes were finally getting a glimpse of light in them again, but worry wrinkles that hadn't been there before lined his face, and his smile was far grimmer than Sirius had ever seen it.
''I didn't know that you were working in the front shop now... and don't call me Minister.''
''I never congratulated you on the new title, it seemed appropriate.'' A forced smile made Sirius wince.
''You don't... I didn't expect you to...'' he started, but they were thankfully interrupted as the two shop owners bustled inside.
''Our favourite customer!'' one of them exclaimed.
''You say that to every customer Gred,''
''Special service Forge,''
''Dad! Don't try to lift so many at once!''
Concerned, Fred rushed over to his father and took half of the boxes away before turning to Sirius again, spreading his arms. ''So, what will it be this time? More defensive clothes for the Ministry? Samples? Fireworks?'' As if on cue, a few sizzling stars zoomed past and wrote a dirty word in the air. George waved it away with a grin.
''I need a form of floo powder that allows objects to be sent through fireplaces. I'm having trouble receiving memos from one office to the other.''
''A request then... a rather interesting one. How quickly do you need it?''
''Well, it's not as if people will die if I don't have it soon, but it would be nice if you would experiment with it soon. I also imagine that I am not the only person who'd be helped with that. It would go a lot faster than owl post too if you could send letters through the fire.''
Fred tapped his fingers against his chin for a while, thinking about it. ''True... even we would be helped with it ourselves. The postal service costs quite a bit, but making modified floo powder... It should be possible to do, if we use normal floo powder as a base and throw in some enchantments to bind it to objects. Will be tricky to get over the part where the activation needs to be done vocally, but we'll think of something. Any other nice ideas?''
''That was it, sorry, unless you can invent a product that would make Lucius Malfoy less of an arse.''
''No help possible there,''
''Though if you want the opposite effect,''
''We do have a nice product that would give him an arse for a face,''
''Temporarily, of course.''
''He already has an arse for a face, it wouldn't make much difference,'' Sirius dryly said.
''Ah, I missed your sense of humour, good man!'' Fred slapped him on the shoulder. ''How are you anyways?''
''Mainly just tired,'' Sirius replied. ''Haven't been able to sleep much with how many affairs I need to take care of. My schedule is insanely full. Today is a bit of an... escape from duty, but not going as well as I had hoped.''
''We feel you,''
''Well, actually, no we don't, we're doing what we love.''
''You're right brother... well, our condolences.''
''Boys...'' Arthur spoke up, giving both a withered look.
''Sorry dad,''
''Won't happen again,''
''We swear.''
''We'll better go and get started on that fantastic idea of yours Sirius,'' And with a wink, the both of them were gone again.
''Even have our hands full with them now they are grown up hm?'' Sirius asked. Arthur's reply was something in between a laugh and a groan, and Sirius was suddenly very glad that he didn't have kids himself. Sure, he liked taking care of his godson, but at least Harry didn't need to be raised by him.
''I have to get back to work though,'' Arthur said, waving towards the large boxes. ''And sadly its going a bit slow. Can't use magic on any of these, because I'll never know when one of them explodes because of it.''
''I see... I'll leave you to it then.'' He had last look around the shop, but while many items caught his interest, he really was not in the need of edible dark marks or jinx kits right now, and thus he left the shop empty handed, but with an improved mood. No-one could stay gloomy when in the presence of the Twins for more than a few minutes. Deciding that he wouldn't get many other chances to go out in the near future, he quickly made a list of what he wanted to do next. Visiting Gringotts had high priority -ever since the goblins had been included in Wizarding law, they had become a bit more friendly, but the contacts still needed constant managing to keep everything flowing smoothly- and then, he supposed it was time to find a second for his duel... a perfect excuse to visit a certain werewolf village.
With that in mind and a much lighter step than before, he headed back into the sunlit street.
So, Hermione ended up with Ron after all ^^ I received many different opinions and wishes about Hermione's love life before, so I hope the people who rooted for rit won't be too disappointed. *cookies for all of you*.
Please leave a review to let me know you thoughts on the chapter!
