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NOTHING ELSE MATTERS
Chapter 26 - One Way or Another

Walden didn't mention the letter he'd received until much later, while he and Hermione were enjoying a relaxing evening in front of the fireplace in the trophy room. Evan was upstairs reading, and Heather and Melissa had headed off to a Quidditch match. Hermione was also, unsurprisingly, reading, propped up on a couple of pillows and covered in a blanket, her feet resting in Walden's lap. Walden had sat his whisky down and appeared to be dozing off, but then, he opened his eyes abruptly, pulled the letter out of his robe pocket, and said,

"Lass, I've had this owl from Yaxley." He frowned.

Hermione was not at all thrilled to hear, yet again, about the wizard who'd not only been the cause of the Trio's extended camping trip during Voldemort's reign, but had also, according to Walden, gone to her childhood home in search of her.

"Didn't he just get out of Azkaban, around the same time as Rowle?" Hermione asked. "I rather assumed Lucius would be approaching him about the Alliance, as well as...oh, those other two, the ones that Orla had on her docket...Travers and Selwyn?"

"I doona think he'll be part o' anythin' with Lucius," Walden grunted. "Pretty sure he and Avery are up to somethin'."

"Oh, I don't care for that Avery," Hermione said. "I know he went to St. Mungo's, and all that, and he kept insisting he was reformed, but I was very glad when I finally saw the back of him." She paused. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, Corban's letter...he's tryin' to find out if I...well, he says here, 'if you were not, as I was, satisfied with the outcome of the trials, I suggest you get in touch with Herbert and myself. I will be in the place we all met after the World Cup, in two weeks' time. Send your return owl for specifics.'" Walden frowned again. "There's more but I'll nae be readin' it to ye."

"And why not?" Hermione asked, as she sat down her book.

"He says, 'if it's true what I've heard about you and that Mu-, er, Muggleborn, then don't bother replying."

"So, it's like that, is it? Clearly ten years in Azkaban wasn't nearly enough for him," Hermione snapped. "Well? Are you replying to him?"

Walden crumpled up the letter and sent it into the fireplace flames. "Sod him," he grunted. "Shall we head upstairs?"


Harry Potter was not having a very good morning on the Monday after Ron's wedding. He'd stayed up way too late, both at the castle and at the Burrow, and even the well-crafted Alertness Potions available at the drinks counter in the Auror office weren't working on him. He'd just, in fact, decided to put his head down on his desk and take a short nap when Kingsley Shacklebolt knocked at his door.

Rubbing at his eyes and stretching, he waved his wand to open the door; after Kingsley had seated himself, he locked and warded it and added a quick Muffliato, just in case.

"What brings you here this morning, Kings?" Harry punctuated these words with a very loud, long yawn.

"Don't do that, Harry, it's catching, I only left a bit before you did," Kingsley answered. "And it's after noon, I was going to ask you if you'd have lunch with me-if you'd lower the wards just a second-" After Harry obliged, he waved his wand and a tray laden with sandwiches and a pot of coffee appeared on Harry's desk.

"You'd better have the coffee first," Kingsley advised. After the pair had made a dent in the tray, Kingsley began, gesturing toward Harry's bulletin board, which was covered with newspaper clippings largely concerning missing Muggles.

"I think I know what's behind all the disappearances. Well, I have a theory, and it's not a good one."

"The last one," Harry began. "This last one, in Cheshire, the eyewitness said he saw someone in a long black robe grab the woman from behind and disappear with her. Except he was outside of a pub, and a bit tipsy..."

"Not that tipsy," Kingsley said. "Herbert Avery lives in Cheshire and he's been spotted going into that pub after his St. Mungo's rounds. And this past weekend, our contact-a Squib-saw him meeting with a man meeting the description of Yaxley in that same pub."

"So...what?" Harry said. "Rogue ex-Death Eaters, looking for a spot of Muggle-baiting?"

"No," said Kingsley. "Looking to continue the foolishness that got them put behind bars in the first place."

"In short, what we've been fearing would happen for the last few years," Harry said, looking only slightly more alert.

"I'm going to need you to get in contact with Hermione, right away," Kingsley said, looking solemn. "I was going to talk to her at our dinner next week, but...she sent me an owl this morning, resigning her post at the Ministry, says she's going to work with Malfoy at this Alliance thing of his...and you and I both know that coming right after what we saw at Ron's wedding..."

"Doesn't look good," Harry finished. "Except...er, I know how Hermione's mind works, probably more than anyone, and...well...I think she's got some sort of idea that she'll be able to, you know, do some good with the Alliance. I mean to say, she had this house-elf liberation society going when we were at school...and the elves didn't care for it, she kept making clothes for them and leaving them all around the common room, and Dobby...er..." he drifted off, and Kingsley cleared his throat. "Anyway, I don't think joining that Alliance is sinister in itself," he finished.

"But..." Kingsley replied, drawing out the word so that it became a question.

"Macnair," Harry said. "I haven't the slightest bloody idea what's going through her head with regard to him. I interviewed him, you know, before they went to Australia, and it was odd, she said she was at Malfoy's because of the Alliance, and they were all sitting around in a room, perfectly open and above-board, but there was this odd feeling in the air, like I'd interrupted something...and I did find out after all that, Ginny knew it was going on and never said a word to me...it seems that Skeeter column was true after all..."

"Harry, could you try to stay focused?" Kingsley asked. "I'm exhausted too and this isn't helping."

"Well, Ginny says she's sure he's reformed, and that Hermione is an adult and can make her own decisions." He picked up his coffee and took a long draught. "Certainly the rest of Macnair's family is all right, his father was a Gryffindor, did you know?"

"I did know," Kingsley said. "We were in school together. That was one of the reasons why we agreed to Macnair's house arrest."

"Right," Harry said. "Er...I have an idea. It might be a bit unconventional."

"Go on," Kingsley said.


"So do ye need to go back ta the Ministry to, er, check out or somethin'?" Walden asked. They'd spent the morning and most of the afternoon in bed together, after Heather and Melissa had taken Evan down to London for sightseeing.

"Well, I should go pick up my office things at some point, but there wasn't anything on my immediate docket because I'd taken all that time off. I rather think Percy knew this was coming. He's nothing if not overly prepared for every scenario."

"He's that tight-arsed Weasley, aye?"

"Yes, the one I've always thought was a changeling," Hermione said, swinging her legs over the side of the bed and summoning her robe. "Anyway, the owl came when I stepped out to the loo, Kings accepted my resignation and the letter was countersigned by Percy, so it's fine, I could have them send my things on if I wanted, and I might..." she paused. "Or I could have Harry get them, I suppose. I should probably talk to him soon," she added.

"Well, he'll be comin' here in the next couple o' days," Walden said. "For me, ye know..."

"Oh, right," Hermione said, as she headed toward the bathroom. "I'm going to take a bath, see you in a bit."


"I haven't got a reply from Walden yet," said Yaxley, with a frown, as he sat down his beer.

"You know," said Avery, "I really think he's faking it with the Mudblood. You know how he really was, how he used to be at the Revels. I think he planned the whole thing to stay out of Azkaban...I mean, it's not as if Lucius would have been there with him..." and at that last bit, both wizards chuckled, rather rudely.

"Lucius!" spat Yaxley. "After we're done with the first phase of our plan, we're taking him out. And Draco, that sniveling coward." He glanced around. "Where are Travers and Selwyn? They're late."

"Mayhap they don't like meeting in this Muggle place," Avery grunted. "I don't like it much...except for the women..." and he leered at the barmaid, who was studiously ignoring him. "If they don't show soon, let's go back to headquarters. You should have had them meet the same place as Walden."

"I don't want to meet there with anyone who wasn't in the Inner Circle, Herbert," Yaxley sighed. "Thought I said that before. Stop second-guessing me."

"What about those old Snatchers, you met them near there?"

"Herbert, a moving target is tougher to hit," Yaxley said. "I met them in Little Hangleton because they understood its significance to our movement. And we need all the help we can get at this point, so I threw them a bone."


Several days after the wedding, Rait Castle was nearly back to normal; all evidence of the celebrations had been cleaned away by the combined efforts of Macnair and Macfarlane house-elves. Only one houseguest remained, a great-aunt from Canada, who was in her room packing up because she'd chosen to move to a room in Hogsmeade for the rest of her trip. Thus, the extended Macnair family had decided to have a quiet, casual dinner in the library. Hermione was thrilled with this idea, and had strategically moved her chair close to a small table that she planned to stack with books. Evan was excited to have his dinner in front of the fire; he'd asked Binkus for the toasting fork, and was currently in the midst of burning his fifth piece of bread to a crisp. Elspeth, Melissa and Heather were huddled together in a serious conversation about room decoration-the couple had found and purchased a Hogsmeade house, so Elspeth had offered up some Macnair heirlooms from the attic, and they were all debating the merits of returning to Australia to pick up the rest of their items or just selling the house partially furnished and starting anew.

Meanwhile, Gavin, as per usual, had nodded off over his after-dinner whisky, and Walden wasn't far behind him.

"Master Walden, you has a letter," Binkus announced, nearly causing him to spill his drink. "And the owl is waiting for a reply." Indeed, the owl was perched on Binkus' arm, and the gleaming circled "M" hanging from a leather strap attached to its left claw sparkled in the firelight.

Walden slit open the letter in silence.

"It's from the Minister," he said, not looking up at anyone. "I'm to report directly to him tomorrow." He stood up and walked over to Hermione. "Lass, if I'm to be sent back to Azkaban, ye doona need to wait for me."