Warning: AU for all the books, whilst it will follow them in some events.

AND THE TRUTH SHALL SET YOU FREE

By

SilverSkies

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Interviews and Interrogations

Harry sat cross-legged on his bed, curtains drawn around him, thinking about the events of Hallowe'en. Thankfully Friday's classes hadn't included either Potions or Transfiguration so he hadn't had to come face to face with either of the Professors who'd witnessed the aftermath of the incident. They had been extremely lucky to have encountered the troll and come out unscathed. However, he'd long ago decided that luck didn't exist – it was manipulation of circumstances, whether from attitude or magic. Hermione's knowledge and then being able to apply that knowledge, had saved them, once they'd got past the panicking stage that is. He fingered his pendant wondering at the possibilities Hallowe'en could have resulted in, three students dead for one. How had a mountain troll entered the school? All Harry knew for certain was that Professor Quirrell had been the one to sound the alarm, promptly fainting in the Great Hall afterwards and that it had been thanks to Goldstein that the teachers had been notified that Harry wasn't at the feast, with no mention of Hermione or Neville. He sighed, Hogwarts wasn't living up to its reputation as 'safe' and he couldn't help but turn his thoughts to Bella to wonder how she was doing, hunting for a Dark Lord wasn't likely to be very safe either.

She gazed at herself in the mirror, a faint white line was all that remained of the curse that had sliced her cheek, and it would soon fade. She'd already rinsed the remaining blood from her face and hair, which hung limply around her face. At least the blood washed away easily enough, it was unfortunate about her robes though, since they would have to be burned. There were, of course, spells to clean off blood, but she only knew one that was particularly effective; and that sadly, like a fair number of the spells she was most familiar with, was a restricted spell.

She waved her wand over her hair, pleased that the German Aurors had allowed her use of their shower facilities. She wouldn't have wanted to stay bloodstained during her interrogation, which would take place later. Blood itched when it dried and waiting until this morning before getting round to washing her hair hadn't been such a good idea. It always took a while for the water to penetrate through to where the blood had dripped across her scalp, but it was better than the alternative. She'd always been proud of her locks, and she was not about to cut it all off.

A tapping caught her attention. Something, most likely an owl, was tapping at the window – the window that was placed high up on the wall, making her grateful that she was a witch with a wand. After opening the window, a letter was darted through. Creamy parchment, addressed to Isabella. It was from Alphard. She'd open it later, she couldn't afford the distraction before an interrogation.

"Harry, my dear boy. Have a seat." The Headmaster's tone was friendly, a welcome twinkle in his eyes. "Lemon drop?" He asked, offering a dish full of the citrus sweets.

Harry sat, uncomfortable being in the Headmaster's Office and nearly being swallowed by the chintz armchair, but not knowing how he could make his excuses and leave. "Um. No. Thank you Headmaster."

"Ah, well. More for myself then." Dumbledore said brightly, "Now, Harry. I have a few questions to follow up about the incident on Hallowe'en."

Harry nodded distractedly, he was being careful not to look directly at the Headmaster for too long, not that it was a hard task when the office was filled with such fascinating things. Strange silver devices whirred and moved, portraits of snoozing former Headmasters covered the walls, a stand for an absent bird stood in the corner, but it was the shelves lined with books that kept drawing his attention.

"Right then," Dumbledore began in a bemused tone, "Would you mind stating the events of Hallowe'en, from when you decided not to go to the Feast?"

"No," Harry drawled slightly, with possibly more than a hint of mischief. He witnessed an ever so slight tightening of the skin around the elder wizard's eyes, before once more averting his own eyes. "Well… I was standing outside the Great Hall, I was planning to go in and grab something to eat and leave with it – probably wander 'til I found somewhere to eat, or go back to my dorm. Then Anthony asked me, er, Anthony Goldstein that is, if I was going to the Feast. I told him I wasn't, which was when Neville and Hermione came up, they inquired about my response and in the end decided they'd spend the evening with me."

The Headmaster interrupted his narrative with a question, "Why did you not wish to attend the feast?"

Harry was taken aback, "It… I…" He bowed his head slightly, unsure how to begin. "Hallowe'en is the anniversary of my parents' deaths," his voice was barely above a whisper, "I didn't feel like celebrating the day with lots of people."

"Don't worry, Miss Black. This is a fairly standard process." Richter reassured her, seeing her nervous glances around the Auror offices, fairly bustling, but each smaller office cubicle seemed Silenced.

She smiled faintly, "Please, call me Bella."

He nodded, "Very well. Bella. If you would hand over your wand – to be examined and then we shall talk about what happened."

"My wand?" Her fingers itched to hold it and keep holding it, but she slowly drew it from her holster and offered it over with care.

"Thank you Miss… Bella. I will have Hirsch take it to be examined, he will not let anything happen to it."

Sigi confirmed this with an enthusiastic "It will be as safe as I can make him!" as he gently took her hand, before relieving her of her wand. "You will find me in Evidence." The last word is said carefully, and she smiles at him.

Richter continued, "And you need not worry about being attacked here." He paused and shuffled through the mess of papers on his desk. "Right, ah, would you like anything to drink or eat before we begin?"

"Ah, maybe later." Bella replied, not willing to find herself drugged though the thought of food was especially tempting since she hadn't eaten much since the fight on Hallowe'en.

"So, will you tell me how you came to be in the Forest?"

"Holiday. Well, I usually teach French, but I ended up quitting so I could see to my father who called me back home." She paused, thinking through her words, "At any rate he offered to fund a trip through Europe for me, and I thought it would be fun to travel as a Muggle and see the sights. I'm planning to go onwards to Austria after this," she confided in him, feeling it was a safe bet as far as places went.

The dark-haired Auror nodded, taking notes as she spoke.

"Well… everyone's heard of the Black Forest – even if only from the cake. I went to the Muggle part first, which is very pretty and that's where I met Herr Krüger. We spoke for a little while, I thought he might be a wizard but I wasn't sure. Um… let's see." She leaned back in her chair thinking about that day's events. "I continued to wander around the Forest, I found a clearing to have a picnic lunch in the Muggle part. Then I decided to start exploring the Wizarding side… where I was startled by um… Auror Herman, was it?"

He grinned at the memory, "Yes, that is his name."

"Well I stunned him, silently." She closed her eyes, trying to remember what happened next. "There was some trading of spells, I'm not sure how many, but I got to Auror Herman and…"

"Yes, you had him as a hostage. The rest I know, how about after – when our camp was attacked?"

Something seems wrong. The Headmaster has offered tea and biscuits while they chat. Harry's been nervously sipping at the tea, trying to gather time to put his thoughts together. It doesn't seem to be working, if anything his head feels a little lighter and he keeps saying more than he means to, as if the filter between brain and mouth has been Vanished. It would explain some of the other students though – he hopes it isn't infectious.

"Is anything wrong, my boy?"

"I was wondering if missing the brain-mouth filter was infectious and that it would explain some of the students, only how do I stop it from affecting me, is there a cure?" The Headmaster looks puzzled, but there is a slight twinkle of amusement there as well. Better than the reactions of suspicion he's previously had.

They were interrupted as Bella got talking about the spells she had used – Sectumsempra and Fiendfyre. There was some commotion at the entrance, a blond wizard in peacock blue robes and a large bright smile was entering and approaching their way.

Richter's face screwed up in distaste. "What is he doing here?"

"You know him?" Bella asked in surprise, "Who is he? He looks somewhat familiar…" She trailed off as Richter laughed.

"He is Gilderoy Lockhart, member of the Dark Force Defence League. I believe he has written a number of books, though the man is…" He stopped mid-sentence as the man entered his small office space.

"The 'expert', you mentioned before." Bella continued smoothly, getting confirmation in a swift nod.

"Auror Richter! And who might this charming witch be?" The man oozed false flattery and she fought the desire to say something scathing as he took her hand and pressed a kiss to it.

"Isabella Black." She announced her name sharply, with emphasis on 'Black'.

"Ah, and I, as you may already know, am Gilderoy Lockhart." He puffed out his chest as he spoke, and she caught Richter glowering at the man from the corner of her eye.

"Ahem," Richter coughed to draw Lockhart's attention away from her. "May I ask what you are doing here, Mr. Lockhart?"

"Why merely to offer some of my expertise, and see how your methods compare with my own. It was certainly some good luck that you Aurors managed to get them all in one night!"

Richter gave a predatory smile, "Ah, but you see Miss Black is the one responsible for the 'getting' of the ones we were after."

Lockhart's good humour faded for a moment before he rallied and with another blinding smile, offered, "Why then, Miss Black, allow me to invite you for lunch. No doubt it will be better than remaining here for the afternoon."

"I have to finish giving my statement –

"I'm sure Auror Richter will be happy to wait!" The wizard was offering her, his arm, and she looked towards Richter with an expression of 'get me out of this mess'.

"Of course. Miss Black, has not yet had lunch, so this is a good opportunity." Richter all but shooed them out of the office. He cast an apologetic look at her, but it was obvious that he was more thankful to have Lockhart out of his way. "And we are finished with the interview."

"Fine." Bella huffed, annoyed at the idea of spending time with the blond buffoon. Her fingers twitched at the thought of cursing him. "But we need to stop by and pick up my wand from Sigi, in Evidence."

"Of course, my dear." Blue eyes gleamed, and Bella had a moment of foreboding before brushing it off. After all what kind of threat could this overdressed peacock possibly offer?

Professor Snape has joined them, and it's worrying because Harry never noticed him enter the office. The lightheaded feeling is getting to him, it's actually Snape's quick reflexes that catch the teacup before it falls from his suddenly lax fingers.

"I believe the Veritaserum has taken effect, Headmaster." Snape's smooth tones wash over him. Distantly Harry knows he should be alarmed. Veritaserum – truth serum – is a restricted substance by the Ministry of Magic, and Harry is a minor, and he has secrets, which he isn't going to think about.

The first question starts simply.

What is your name? Harry Potter.

(Harry is pretty sure this is just to check that he's under the influence of the potion.)

Where did you learn Occlumency? I haven't.

(And he hasn't – he's barely skimmed the basics, he can hardly say he's learnt it. Read about it and practiced a little, but learnt it? Not yet.)

Why didn't you attend the Feast? I didn't want to be with people celebrating a day that to me will always be the day my parents died.

(No truth fudging there)

How did you defeat the troll? Hermione's knowledge of its weaknesses and us applying our knowledge.

(He'd been thinking about this earlier. It's an easy question to answer.)

What knowledge did Miss Granger provide, and how did you apply it to defeat the troll? Hermione said they were cave-dwellers and didn't like light – I used an over-powered Lumos charm to distract it. She told us it was magically resistant, so magic wouldn't work, but blunt force would. Neville levitated its club over its head and knocked it out.

(It's what happened, though they were there for the last bit.)

How are you able to protect your mind from Legilimency? I don't know.

(Truth - he doesn't know... he could give a few well-educated guesses, but ultimately - being able to protect his mind from Legilimency? He doesn't know.)

They were walking down one of the many corridors, Lockhart chatting inanely at her, trying to involve her in conversation about the events of Hallowe'en.

"I suppose you do this type of thing fairly often then," he beamed at her, "some kind of Law Enforcement yourself? Hitwitch?" He frowned momentarily, no doubt finding the phrasing as odd as she did herself.

She shook her head, "Oh no. I teach French." She paused to give her next words more emphasis. "To Muggles."

"B-but how did you manage to…" He trailed off at the smirk she gave him.

"I am a Black, after all." She drawled in what she thought was a passable imitation of her brother-in-law, the blond annoying one that is, though admittedly she hadn't spent any considerable amount of non-hostile time with Andy's husband. Still, it was satisfying to see the peacock pale as he finally came to understand her name and what it meant in Wizarding circles.

The rest of the walk out of the Auror buildings passed in silence.

Outside, it was a horrifically sunny day for November, really where were the clouds and winds and rain? Still, she shielded her eyes with a hand, gazing around the town.

"Ahem," coughed the peacock.

She lowered her hand and offered him a glance. "Hmm?"

"I know a lovely little restaurant – it's just this way. Really great food and atmosphere – they

certainly know how to treat a celebrity." He puffed up his chest, and she couldn't help but think 'Men.'

He led the way to the restaurant, down a narrow side street which opened out into a somewhat bare and desolate square. She was already uneasy, a restaurant situated in an empty square with none of the expected lunchtime bustle was not aiding her paranoia.

"I know it doesn't appear like much, they're much more popular in the evenings – a little too out of the way for anyone but tourists to lunch here I suppose." The man bubbled on.

A small wooden door was the entrance which opened to a short flight of stairs downwards. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise when he gestured for her to go in front of him, but she did so anyway. Curiosity was driving her forward and her own Black stubbornness. He didn't attack her from behind, but she felt much more at ease when he stood, not at her back, but beside her - enthusiastically greeting the waiter who had come to seat them.

"Harry?" the Headmaster is close, too close. Harry blinks sleepy eyes, and realises he's still in the Headmaster's office. He... fell asleep?

"Right, my boy, seems a few too many biscuits and an old man's company will always send the younger generation to sleep." The Headmaster's eyes are twinkling, and it sends a slight feeling of unease through Harry.

He can feel his cheeks heat, "I'm sorry if I fell asleep. It... only seemed a moment." He can't bring himself to say he fell asleep, he doesn't feel like he did. He remembers trying to avoid the Headmaster's eyes, and the question of why he would want to miss the Hallowe'en feast, everything after that seems... muted.

"It's quite alright, though perhaps you'll want to join your friends."

Harry nods, still thoughtful. "Er, thanks Headmaster." He makes his leave and once past the Gargoyle, he's sprinting to where he's previously agreed to meet the two Gryffindors. The Hallowe'en classroom.

"Harry!" Neville calls out. He and Hermione are sat as if reading through textbooks, but there are scraps of parchment between them – vague sketches of anvils and pianos on them. "Hermione has been explaining Muggle entertainment."

Hermione is frowning at him, "Harry, are you alright? You're not in any trouble are you?" Her tone gets more anxious.

"I'm fine. No trouble. Yet." He clutches at his pendant as he says it.

"Harry – what's that?" Hermione asks, curious as ever.

"Oh it was a gift." He looks down at it, only to gasp. The clean silver surface is now blackened and tarnished. Neville stands to have a closer look.

"Isn't that... a charm against mind magics?" Neville begins, and quickly explains before Hermione can even open her mouth to ask, "Mind magics are things which effect the mind – like memory charms, Legilimency – which allows you to pick up people thoughts, even the Imperius curse which is an Unforgivable allowing you to control another person." His tone darkens as he continues. "That charm looks as if it's burnt out."

"Goodness, Harry! You've gone all pale." Hermione exclaims, but from her own rapid paling, he knows she's figured it out.

"I've only met with the Headmaster. I was holding a silver pendant this morning." Two statements. Two facts. One conclusion.

"You were Obliviated." Neville puts it bluntly, carefully turning the pendant in his hands. "Anything stronger would have cracked it."

"But why? It's the Headmaster, why would he do something like that? And to Harry!"

"Hermione, calm down. I-I was warned before I came here, that there would be people trying to use me, and people trying to kill me... and hey, at least I know the Headmaster wants me alive." He's fighting to stay calm, and he really doesn't want to think about this anymore just yet. He utters a soft laugh, "the last thing I remember is feeling light headed, and I couldn't seem to stop speaking. Then I 'woke up' in the Headmaster's office."

"Oh Harry!" Hermione's wraps him in a hug. "What do you suppose... he made you forget?"

"Who knows? I don't." He finds himself leaning into the hug slightly. All of this is making him miss home.

Neville shrugs, "well I suppose all we can do is take steps to stop it happening again."

Even though she's collected her wand from Sigi she can't shake the feeling of foreboding now that she's chosen to accompany Lockhart. She scoffs at the idea that now of all times she is experiencing the Black's ability of future-sensing. That, is frankly ridiculous, however – no way is a ... well anyone like Lockhart going to be a threat to her.

She doesn't mind the suggestion of a small restaurant that he's familiar with for lunch. It's his grating attempts at small talk which really bother her – mainly because his idea of small talk seems to consist of talking about himself and the new book he's about to release – something about vampires apparently – which quite possibly explains what he's doing here.

The next trigger of unease is when he invites her to walk before him into the restaurant. She doesn't exactly want him at her back after all. Still, it is the polite, expected thing for a man to do and it passes without incident. He does know the owner – given the welcoming smile and they're led to a nice table – set back enough from the restaurant front that people won't be able to see them as they eat their meals.

There is a bitter aftertaste to her first mouthful that leaves her paused, second forkful halfway to her mouth. She puts it down mind racing. She smiles sweetly at Lockhart, taking instead a sip of her drink – apple juice – if you must know – pumpkin is a great disabler of many potions but apple has its perks too, not as effective sure, but far easier to get hold of in the Muggle world and better for counteracting poison – at least magical ones. Something about like magics cancelling out. She knows from Harry that even the Muggles acknowledge the danger of the poison apple – even if it has been relegated to a children's tale.

His blue eyes seem darker, more dangerous as he smiles back and for the first time she realises that while it is a toothy smile – truly it's more like a shark's smile – there's that element of predator eying prey – and her own smile grows wooden on her face. She's faster though – she's flung herself from her chair even as the spell is loosed from his wand – the red of the stunning spell washes over her.

She has her own wand in hand – and she pushes at the feeling of Apparition only to rebound off the wards. Fine. It'll be wands and fists then. Instinct has her rolling away, flipping a nearby table and taking cover. Of course, it's the owner – possibly any other staff as well. Minimum two opponents, unknown capabilities, aiming to incapacitate/capture though – from the spells. Why? Do they know who she is? Is it revenge or some other motive? She can already feel the effects of whatever potion/poison they drugged her with – she's sluggish. Her arm feels heavy as she lifts her wand to cast.

"Expelliarmus!" It's ripped from her hand before she utters a syllable. An Incarcerous later and she's tied up and glaring furiously at the two wizards.

The "owner" smirks, "You're very impressive, certainly one of the few to have noticed the laced food – and I commend you on your resistance."

She sneers at him wordlessly, frantically trying to figure out who they would have done this to before and why. In the end she just spits it out. "Why?"

Lockhart gives her his shark-smile. "For the money of course, and the fame."

At her apparently uncomprehending expression they explain – something leaving her grateful for monologuing – she's done it herself – being on the receiving end is annoying, but it does offer opportunity for escape – or possibly she's just being overly optimistic. They Obliviate heroes. Ordinary people who have done something incredible to protect the ones they love or themselves – various dangerous creatures all having fallen to their wands – only to be offered a book deal and receive a stab in the back as they're Obliviated and everyone willing to speak up for them undergoing the same or being bought off. They rewrite memories, casting Lockhart in the hero's role and get disgustingly rich off it. Before she'd never appreciated just how disturbing that spell was – but now she was thinking she should get Harry to campaign to add it to the list of Unforgivables. That is, if she ever gets out of here intact.

"Don't worry. It won't hurt," he grins, "or at the least – if it does, you won't remember it."

"You won't get away with this." She's aware of how clichéd she sounds – she's actually quoting the words of former opponents. She follows it up somewhat differently after they laugh. "I'll hunt you down and make you wish you'd merely been imprisoned in Azkaban." Neither seems to appreciate just how badly they'd have to be tortured to prefer Azkaban and the Dementors.

She meets Lockhart's blue eyes fearlessly as he raises his wand before her. It's over then.

He incants. "Obliviate!"

"Okay, then. Now onto more important things," Neville began. He ignored the incredulous looks from the newly forgetful Boy-Who-Lived and the brightest witch in their year. "You both promised to explain further to me," Neville continued, "Muggle children find entertainment in watching various animated drawing's of animals being blown up, and being otherwise harmed by having anvils, pianos and large weights dropped upon them?"

It was an obvious subject change, but a welcome one. Something light-hearted, something that didn't involve the sheer horror that anyone, especially someone placed in a position of trust could so utterly violate the memories of one of their number. Not a prisoner, not a suspect, but a child, a student, a friend – and it could so easily have been any one of them. Harry and Hermione didn't need to think it through for even a moment before nodding.

"Yes, but on the other hand, in the Wizarding World every eleven year old child is handed a deadly weapon." Harry pointed out.

"Okay, so we're a terribly bloodthirsty race. Is that it?" Neville began, before a considering look crossed his face.

"What is it?" Hermione questioned, curious as to the cause of his expression.

"Maybe we shouldn't bother with a peaceful revolution after all, I mean, we're a bloodthirsty race, should we not try to embrace it? Mayhem and murder in the streets! Down with the corrupt Ministry! Install our..." he paused, eyeing Hermione, "...favourite Muggleborn witch as the new Minister for Magic. To the hells with the blood nonsense regarding the position! Enforce fairness and equal rights to all."

"Great idea, Nev." Harry agreed, "We can call ourselves the ... Life Drinkers, even if that sounds like a bunch of vampires."

Hermione looked back and forth between the boys. She couldn't help it... she snorted trying not to laugh. "I think that's enough, my loyal Life Drinkers." She declaimed in an airy tone.

"Your wish is our command... my...er... Lady." Harry ended with a frown.

"Do we get costumes? Oh, don't look at me like that, the Death Eaters had their masks and black robes – and yes I realise that nearly everyone at school wears black robes, but they also left the Dark Mark in the sky. What do we get?"

"Well... for one thing, I think you might be getting a little too into this Neville, and two I don't know what the Dark Mark is... but I'll grant that masks could be fun."

It was Harry's turn to laugh. "Let me guess, when you first heard you were a witch Hermione, you wanted to be a superhero."

While the blush that marked the girl's cheeks was endearing, the dangerous glint in her eyes and the wand held in a clenched fist clearly weren't. "Well..." She trailed off, brow furrowed, "That. Is. Not. Fair." She continued enunciating each word with a bite, "I was about to ask if you didn't do the same upon learning you were a wizard, but then I remembered you would have learnt about being the Boy-Who-Lived, so in the eyes of the populace I'm sure you already are one... a superhero that is."

Turning from one frustrated friend to the other, Neville sighed. "And a superhero is?"

"Modern equivalent of a legendary hero, usually with 'super' powers – like flight, super-speed, super-strength, elemental abilities... those sorts of things." Hermione reeled off a quick definition, barely seeming to notice the question.

The chubby Gryffindor considered this. "So to the Muggles, we have superpowers?"

The two Muggle-raised turned their attention back to him. "Yes," Hermione murmured. "I suppose we do."

[AN: I'm still alive! Merry Christmas all, & a Happy New Year!

Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. :) I'm amazed people kept reading and reviewing even after seeing how long since I last updated. Thank you thank you thank you! You made me feel happy and guilty… for obvious reasons I'm sure. Unbelievably, most of this (a.k.a more than 50%) has sat on my hard drive since the last update… so it was half-written heh… I just needed to finish it… but then I got caught up in trying to work out how Obliviate works, and then real life was upon me…but thankfully I got a chance to take a few train trips this year – which is when I do a lot of writing.

So thank you. Hope you enjoyed this chapter even given the long wait… I make no promises on the next… I can tell you it's going to be called something like "Black Cherries"… if you can figure that out… I'll be really impressed and wondering if I AM too obvious…

Additional thanks to all those German speakers who corrected me on my phrasing and meanings of words in the last chapter. I've picked what I thought would make sense given that the Wizarding world tends to be a bit backward.

Sigi calling the wand 'him' - I have a German friend who occasionally forgets and gives gender to some of our genderless English nouns. From what I could find - the German for wand is a masculine noun.

I'm impressed that a lot of people figured out Lockhart for the 'expert'.No comment on Bella's animagus - that will be revealed later.

Hermione wanting to be a superhero or have superpowers… As much as she would like to pretend otherwise… she's still a kid, and she still needs people, and superpowers are cool. *g*

And yes. I am evil. To do that to Harry and then to Bella. *evillaugh*

Have some random bonus material...

OMAKE (Bella/Lockhart):

She'd only gone in the shop to browse; and if she was honest, to buy some awful tacky items to gift to Harry and Alphard (and maybe sneak one to Cissa at some point). She was fingering a particularly gauche item when she was bumped into. By a stumbling stammering somewhat attractive man.

"I'm so sorry. Damn. Er… bitte, danke?" He winced at his noticeable lack of even rudimentary German. He offered her an apologetic half-grin instead.

"It's okay" she interrupted before he could make another attempt.

"You're British!" He exclaimed. " Ah, that is er…" He held out a hand, "I'm Gilderoy."

"Isabella, Bella really." She replied taking his hand.

"So…" he trailed off, "holidaying? With friends?" He gave her an appraising look.

"Alone actually, yourself?" Well that was stupid, she told herself, introduce yourself to a strange man and tell him you're a single woman travelling alone. Idiot.

"Me too, well it's supposed to be a working holiday…"

"A working holiday? You get paid to go on holiday?"

He laughed "No, no. I'm a writer, I came here to hopefully get some fresh ideas for a new book… but I've yet to come across anything that… really added something."

"Hmm," she was about to say more when embarrassingly her stomach rumbled. She felt her cheeks heat, "Ah maybe I shouldn't have skipped out on breakfast."

"Oh, let me take you to this little restaurant I know… it's not on the tourist maps I promise, but the food is really good."

She wavered on indecision… to go with this blond handsome stranger who could be a serial axe murderer she reminded herself, or not to go… wait, she was Isabella Black, not Bellatrix Lestrange… and that meant… she was SINGLE! She could go on a date… test the waters… see how the game had changed in her 10+ year absence… She winced at that… 10-plus years of no kisses, no lust filled mutual gropings, nothing except her own… she stopped her thoughts there. She smiled at Gilderoy.

"It sounds wonderful."

[cue romance? Heh, this could work for a Muggle AU as well. Would that be ex-asylum inmate/ex-con meets travel writer? Some other kind of writer? Actually I feel that Gilderoy would be writing those overly florid/smutty romance books – Lockhart would write for Mills&Boon / Harlequin romances.. that type, yep]

OMAKE: Superhero names...

Introducing the wonderful, the amazing, the incredible... Magic Trio! Smart-girl! Plant-boy! Annnnnd... Live-boy!

(er, Live-boy, isn't that kinda obvious? In fact, all of these names are pretty lame).

Shut up Live-boy. I don't see you coming up with anything better.

[I don't know, Her-I mean Smart-girl, they are quite awful].

Look, who's idea was this anyway?

(Yours, oh wise and wonderful Smart-girl).

...

(Yes?)

...Okay, so maybe, just maybe you're right and the names aren't that good. I just couldn't think of anything better. I mean none of us have particular trademarks – I suppose we could call you Lightning... for your scar like Cyclops gets named for his visor.

(Better than four-eyes... or Live-boy, really H-Smart-girl?)

[Book-girl? No I suppose that sounds like a librarian, not really a superhero name...although didn't you say the names were to hide our identities?]

Yes. Oh. I see what you mean, Ha-Lightning is too obvious a name.