A/N: Thanks to all those who have reviewed, followed, and favorited this story. I'm glad that people have been enjoying it. And a special thanks to Bonnie and Mainsail for beta reading this and thus improving on the original. If you have questions or concerns about what's going on, feel free to include them in a review or a PM — I'll try to answer.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.
Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "Blindness" by AngelaStarCat. Voldemort's attack leaves Harry not just with a scar on his forehead, but blind as well, a condition which prevents him from being accepted into Hogwarts despite still being magical. Harry, though, has never allowed his condition to hold him back. He never let it prevent him from excelling in his studies in muggle schools, and he won't let it hold him back in learning magic, either.
Chapter 40 - I Can See Clearly Now
Sunday, February 13, 1996, Evening.
It was a sign of how far Luna had come over the course of her fourth year that she was willing to have her birthday party in the Ravenclaw common room. Though the crackdown on bullying had helped, there were still some housemates who didn't seem to like her very much; however, they had learned not to try to bully her — it had taken only a practical Defense lesson or two led by her and Padma in the common room for most of the rest of the house to realize that the strange, waifish blonde wasn't a pushover anymore.
And those who didn't manage to learn that way were given some one-on-one sessions which drove the lesson home.
These days, Ravenclaw Tower was a much safer place for her, so she invited her friends — which consisted primarily of the study group — to visit in the evening for a small birthday party. It couldn't be as large and long as Hermione's had been because Ravenclaws didn't like anything interfering with their study time (and also because no one was entirely sure if such a party violated the new restrictions imposed by the Chief Inquisitor).
Despite its more reserved nature, it was still a fun gathering — and Luna had the most fun of all because it had been a long time since she'd had anyone celebrate her birthday in such a way. With Tonks' help, Sirius had managed to visit muggle London without causing a riot, natural disaster, or international incident, and there they got a number of books for Jasmine and Hermione to give to Luna. Books on muggle zoology, muggle myths, muggle cryptozoology and more, all of which made Hermione worry that Luna wouldn't be able to (or wouldn't bother to) differentiate between science, myth, and pseudoscience. But Jasmine pointed out that muggle scientists were still discovering new species, so who was to say that magical researchers like the Lovegoods might not as well? And who was to say that there might not be clues in muggle myths or cryptozoology?
Hermione wasn't entirely convinced, but she agreed to not make a fuss. Instead, she borrowed one of Luna's books on interesting animals, finding some fascinating information about insects that she thought might be useful for her and Jasmine.
Their other friends got Luna an assortment of sweets, quills and other school supplies, and several things that she could use while on her camping trips with her father. Luna wasn't the only person to get gifts, though: Lavender used the occasion to present Hannah and Tracey with replacements of things they had lost when their homes burned down. Some of it was new and some of it was used, but all of it had been donated by students from all four houses at Hogwarts.
Monday, February 14, 1996, Morning.
While Hermione read a letter from her parents which Fleur had just dropped off at their table, Jasmine tried to keep an eye on Ron and Lavender as she ate. She was coming to the conclusion that the relationship between her friend and her dormmate hadn't been quite as good lately as it was when they had first started dating. She wasn't entirely sure, though, because there was no one thing that she could put her finger on — they continued to spend time together, continued to snog each other inappropriately, continued to smile, contin—
That's it, Jasmine realized. Ron is still smiling, but the smiles aren't quite reaching his eyes. Regardless of the problems we've had, I know him well enough to recognize that! The question is, is this still due to his dad, or something else? I'm going to have to talk to Hermione...
Before she could say anything, though, she saw the expression on Hermione's face. "What's wrong?" she asked, a stab of worry jolting through her. "Are your parents OK?"
"Oh, they're fine. But this is their reply to the letter I sent them after the attack."
"Oh!" Jasmine winced. "Right, OK, so... I guess they aren't happy?"
"That's putting it mildly," Hermione said morosely. "It's bad enough when I get attacked when I'm minding my own business, but actually leaving a safe location in order to intervene in an attack is another matter altogether, as far as they're concerned. I think it's only because of what we told them over the hols that they aren't clamoring to remove me from Britain entirely." Jasmine stiffened, and Hermione quickly added, "Don't worry, they aren't seriously talking about anything like that — they know better now. My point is, that's how upset they are. The fact that this may be unavoidable in the long run, and that they can't do anything to help or protect me, is just making it worse for them."
Jasmine subsided and considered the problem. "I can understand that. I'd feel the same way, if I were in their shoes. Maybe we should start thinking of ways they can help? Even if they can't do much, wouldn't being able to contribute make them feel more involved and less worried?"
"Oh, that's a great idea, Jas!" Hermione exclaimed, brightening visibly; but then she sagged a little and added, "Yet how can they help me from so far away? What can they as muggles do to help with a magical civil war?"
"Hermione," Jasmine said under her breath, "fighting Voldemort isn't the only thing we're involved with. It isn't even the biggest thing! Some of the stuff we're doing will end up affecting the muggle world in the long run, too. So isn't there something they can do on that side of things?"
Hermione's eyes lit up at that suggestion, and suddenly she could see at least one area where her parents could get involved — and maybe even make a real difference.
Monday, February 14, 1996, Evening.
Because Valentine's Day fell on a regular weekday, none of the couples in Hogwarts found it easy to celebrate the way they wanted to — and the few truly secluded places that existed in the castle were quickly occupied by those who were desperate for even a few minutes of privacy. Not wanting to risk discovery, Jasmine and Hermione didn't bother to try for the usual spots, and even the Room of Requirement was in use when they tried to access it.
Luckily for them, they were able to make use of a location that would be unavailable to almost any other couple in the castle: one of their dorm beds, behind silenced and sealed curtains. So for Jasmine and Hermione, at least, it was a very quiet and subdued Valentine's Day which consisted mostly of a few discreet brushes of their hands, a few lingering looks, and a very long period of privacy once they went to bed.
Tuesday, February 15, 1996, Evening.
"So, how'd it go?" Tonks asked as she poured herself a cup of tea in the kitchen.
"How'd what go?" Sirius replied.
Tonks rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Your date, silly. You remember — lunch with the Italian goddess? Surely you didn't forget and leave her hanging?"
"No, no, I went," Sirius assured her. "It's just... complicated."
"Well, feel free to unload onto dear old Tonks," she said, morphing her face into that of a kindly old grandmother and changing her voice so that it sounded like that of a very elderly woman. "I'm always available to lend an ear, along with sage advice drawn from my many, many years of experience." As she said that, she made the ear closest to Sirius grow to two or three times its normal size.
Sirius snorted at her antics. "Alright, alright! I found it enjoyable, OK? She has very refined mannerisms, but at the same time she isn't pompous. She's beautiful and knows it, but she doesn't act conceited or entitled. She's clearly intelligent and knows a lot, but doesn't flaunt that, either."
"Keep that up and I'll want to date her myself," Tonks said jokingly. "Surely there are some flaws buried somewhere in there?"
"I'm sure there are," Sirius agreed, "though I haven't found them yet. Of course, anyone who looks too good to be true probably is, so I'm keeping my eyes open."
"But nothing specific is causing you to worry yet?" Tonks asked.
"No... well, yes, one thing. Sort of," Sirius said hesitantly. "She asked me a lot of questions about Jasmine. No, not like that — nothing that made me think she was a threat and looking for intelligence. That's what I thought at first, too, but after a bit I realized that her questions were more about my relationship with Jasmine than Jasmine herself."
"Like what?" Tonks asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Well... things like how she's adapting to having a father figure in her life now, how I'm handling being a father figure, how well we get along - that sort of thing," Sirius explained.
Tonks smirked knowingly. "How come you didn't take her out on Valentine's Day, anyway?"
"I didn't want to invest the date with too many heavy expectations," Sirius said. "And I think she agreed. I wanted something simple and casual. That way if we didn't hit it off, it wouldn't be a problem to simply not arrange for a second date."
"And will there be one?" Tonks asked.
"Yep. We agreed that we enjoyed the first enough to have another, but we didn't set a specific time. She said she's coming into a busy season for her import/export business and can't commit to anything very readily right now. We're going to play it by ear and try for some time in the next couple of weeks."
"Sounds like a success, then," Tonks concluded.
Sirius nodded in agreement. "So, how's your case coming along?" he asked, changing the subject.
Tonks shrugged. "I can't say much, as you know, but I guess I can say that it's progressing. It's more complicated than I thought, but it is interesting. Thanks, by the way, for letting me use that knife. I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't have gotten anywhere at all by now without it."
"Not a problem," Sirius responded. "You're family now... well, you always were, as far as I was concerned, but it's more official now, too, which means you can call on me for that sort of help anytime." They were quiet for a bit, then Sirius continued in a softer voice, "I'm sorry, by the way, that Remus had to leave so soon. I know you were hoping to have a chance to talk to him yesterday."
Tonks' hair quickly cycled through several different colors as her eyes widened in surprise. "What? How? When?"
Sirius smiled a little sadly. "I saw how you were looking at him. I also noticed you looking at the calendar a couple of times, and I made an educated guess about the date."
Tonks slumped a bit in her chair. "I've tried to get his attention subtly a few times, but he never noticed. I thought that maybe, given the date, I could get away with something more direct."
"Direct fits you better anyway," Sirius observed, and she straightened a bit at hearing that. "I can promise you, though, that he noticed — he's more observant than I am. Unfortunately, I think if you do manage to get him to try something with you, it will be a lot of work."
"What do you mean?" Tonks asked, frowning.
Sirius toyed with his teacup, trying to find the right words. "You have to understand, he carries around a lot of guilt and self-loathing over being a werewolf. You won't be able to get very far with him without remembering that. And no matter how much he likes or respects you, he'll never be able to give you what you're looking for unless he can accept that he's a good and decent person himself. You and I might think it's obvious that he's a good man, but in all the years I've known him, I don't think he's ever really believed it."
"Wow... I... I never thought about it in those terms before," Tonks said slowly.
Sirius shrugged. "Remus is one of my best friends. Has been for most of my life, in fact. He's smart, talented, strong, and lots of other great things. But I can't deny that he has flaws, and the biggest is his self-loathing. It holds him back in a lot of ways. I also suspect that you can't get into such a relationship expecting to be able to fix a person — I mean, I've been trying for years. Er, not that I've been wanting to date him," Sirius amended hastily, and Tonks smiled. "Just that he's been pretty stubborn on this point, and I've never made much headway. Maybe you can do better. If you're determined, though, I suggest you help him fix himself first, then pursue a relationship if you're still interested."
When Tonks nodded thoughtfully, he added, "And I promise that's the last unsolicited relationship advice I'll inflict on you."
"Not that it's bad advice, but I have to ask: how did a guy who's been in prison for the last decade and a half get to know so much about relationships?" Tonks wondered.
"I know so much about Remus," Sirius corrected. "Besides, I recently learned that I need to be a bit more accepting of how others handle their relationships. And no, I won't give you any details - suffice it to say that I'm trying to be less judgmental than I might have been in the past." He gave her a speculative look as she finished off her now-cool drink, then he mused, "Of course, I could be wrong about all this... maybe he just needs to get laid."
Tonks spewed her tea all over the table.
Wednesday, February 16, 1996, Afternoon.
The twins came through again by successfully smuggling a large quantity of the February edition of The Quibbler into the castle, though this time they were far more circumspect in delivering the goods. They were among the first to learn not only of Percy's likely role in what was being printed in the Daily Prophet — something they took rather personally — but also about the possibility of a spy among the lions.
Jasmine and Hermione weren't sure which of those two revelations angered the twins more. They were tempted to feel sorry for whomever the spy was because they were the only one within the twins' grasp, and that meant that they would have to bear the brunt of their anger on both matters. Whoever they were, their days were numbered.
"I kinda wish we could have included some sort of rebuttal to the accusations being made against us," Jasmine lamented as she and Hermione looked at the latest issue behind Jasmine's bed curtains.
"I understand the feeling," Hermione said, "but this is actually better. We wouldn't win if we went toe-to-toe with the Ministry and their propaganda rag. In the long run, people would end up believing the loudest voice."
"Which is the Ministry."
"Right," Hermione confirmed. "It will be more effective to undermine confidence and trust in the Ministry. If we can achieve that, people won't believe what the Daily Prophet publishes. This article explaining the truth about the attacks at the end of hols will go a long way towards that."
"But isn't that what the Ministry is doing to me?" Jasmine asked, confused. "Undermining people's confidence in me?"
"Yes, that's true," Hermione conceded. "But there's a difference. Hardly anyone has ever seen you do anything that might be called 'dark,' so it's an accusation that doesn't have a lot of sticking power. People may eventually believe it, but only after it's repeated often enough. This article about how badly the Ministry was doing against Voldemort in the 70s is something most people can relate to — they were there and saw it. And this other article about how ill-prepared the Ministry is now to fight dark wizards is believable — Fudge's decisions are a matter of public record and have long been known."
Friday, February 18, 1996. Morning.
"I'm so, so sorry, Parvi," Padma whispered through her tears as she hugged her twin sister in the castle entrance way.
"Stop that," Parvati chided her. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, you helped me survive by teaching me and Lav how to fight."
"But... but... if I hadn't..." Padma tried to argue.
"No," Parvati said sternly as she drew back a bit so she could look her sister in the eye. "I don't want to hear any more of that, understand? You're not at fault — the ones who attacked us are. If you want to make it up to me, be sure you help take those animals down, OK?"
Padma nodded silently as she wiped at her eyes.
"Parvati!" came Lavender's voice from above them. Looking up, Parvati could see several Gryffindor witches coming down the staircase for breakfast.
"Lav!" she called back, holding out one arm to invite her best friend into the hug she was already sharing with her sister. Soon she was surrounded by quite a few witches from several houses, all of whom were thrilled to see that she had returned.
"Are you well now?" Lavender asked. "Completely better?"
Parvati shook her head. "I'm still a bit tender, and I've got a bunch of potions that I'll have to take every day for the next month. They don't know for sure yet if there was any permanent damage, but they are hopeful."
"C'mon," Susan said, "Let's get you something to eat."
Once they were all sitting together in the Great Hall, they proceeded to fill Parvati in on everything that had been happening in the castle while she was gone. She already knew some of it because her friends and sister had sent her regular letters, but there was always so much more that couldn't easily be conveyed in written form.
It was difficult, that first day back, but she was excited and happy to finally be at Hogwarts again.
Friday, February 18, 1996. Night.
They couldn't get away with inviting the entire study group again, but they did make a point of bringing in Padma. With the beds pushed together, there was plenty of room for her, her sister, Lavender, Ginny, Jasmine, and Hermione to snuggle in together as the entire group had done their first night back in January. The next morning, Parvati agreed that it was the best night's sleep she could remember.
It was also the first night in over a month that she hadn't awakened from any nightmares.
Saturday, February 19, 1996, Afternoon.
It was Professor Flitwick's turn to instruct them, which he did in the Room of Requirement so as not to risk Umbridge learning that they weren't in the castle. This worked out well enough because that week's lessons would be on a new set of spells that didn't require a lot of room: medical spells.
"It's a trick used by some duelists — though generally the nastiest ones," Flitwick explained. "Since you'll be fighting for your lives rather than for points or prizes, I don't have a problem with teaching them to you."
"Are these not dark, then, since they are medical in nature?" Hermione asked.
"It depends," Flitwick answered. "Some are intended as medical treatments and thus aren't dark, but they are useful in a fight because their effects aren't pleasant when used on someone who's not only healthy, but in the middle of doing something important or complicated. Examples of this include Colus Evacuas and Vomis. However, these are generally low-power spells which are easily blocked. Useful if you can slip them in, but they are more distractions than anything else."
After practicing these spells for a few minutes on conjured pigs, then casting several strong air freshening charms, they moved on. "Now we come to some spells that, while not dark, are still unpleasant because they cause actual medical conditions, at least for a little while. They will also cause pain, but don't require you to actually visualize the pain. As usual, the effect of the spells will be stronger if you can do so, but so long as you can accurately visualize the condition, you'll be able to cast successfully. That will require a short course in anatomy."
Flitwick then proceeded to teach them about how the kidneys, the gall bladder, and joints functioned in order to help them understand how to cast Nephrolithiasis Infligo to cause kidney stones, Cholelithiasis Infligo to cause gallstones, and Inflammatio Articulus to cause arthritis. "As I said before," he explained, "none of these should last very long, but more than long enough for the purpose of a fight — at least a day or two if you cast them. What makes them especially nasty is that they cannot be countered by anything other than spells used by healers to treat these conditions."
"And I'm guessing that these spells aren't common knowledge?" Hermione asked.
"Exactly," Flitwick said. "Aside from duelists who have to worry about getting hit with such things, only healers are likely to even be aware of them, much less know them. I'll teach them to you next so you at least have the option of helping someone incapacitated by one of these spells."
Once the girls were proficient, Flitwick had the room create a table with chairs which he invited them to sit in. "This next part won't require any spellcasting," he explained. "I've been told that you two might be interested in learning a bit more about the history and culture of goblins — something beyond what is taught by that ghost in the History of Magic classes?"
"Oh, yes," Hermione said eagerly. "Anything at all would be helpful."
"As I said to Hermione over the summer," Jasmine noted, "I'd like to avoid unnecessarily offending anyone at Gringotts. I mean, they do have all my money."
Flitwick chuckled. "It's amazing how many witches and wizards don't seem to care about offending the very beings who are charged with holding and protecting all their gold. There's far too much to teach you over the course of a few Saturdays' worth of lessons, and frankly most of it will never matter much to you anyway. I can, however, give you an overview of goblin history and customs. That should help you understand some of the whys and wherefores of goblin behavior."
Saturday, February 19, 1996, Evening.
Albus Dumbledore read over the latest issue of the Quibbler and wondered if Xenophilius had finally gone too far for the Ministry to tolerate. Quite aside from his disparaging articles about the Ministry's failures in the 1970s and how Fudge had made things even worse — articles that were all completely true, as far as Dumbledore could tell — there was also one on how "traditions" in wizarding society had changed, including a review of the many old practices that had been condemned as dark by various Ministry bureaucrats.
As far as he knew, that piece was all true as well, but it was the sort of information he'd prefer not be spread too widely. There were good reasons why many, if not most, of those old traditions had been suppressed. The fact that Xeno and his anonymous author knew about them was troubling enough; the fact that they knew enough to do such a good job at explaining them and making them attractive was far, far worse.
There seems to be little doubt now that the author of these articles on traditional practices is at least connected with whatever rituals have been destroying Tom's horcruxes, Dumbledore concluded. The coincidences here are just too great to dismiss. The question is, how will I ever find the author or authors? All of my research into his friends and associates has turned up nothing of value, and it's not as if they're going to just waltz into my office and announce themselves.
Just then the gargoyle alerted him to the presence of Miss Potter and Miss Granger, both there for their appointment to review another pensieve memory of Tom Riddle. This time he showed them one of his own memories: interviewing Tom Riddle for the vacant post of Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. He was, of course, turned down, and despite his superficially gracious reaction, it was clear to everyone just how angry he really was.
"Is that when he cursed the Defense position?" Hermione wondered.
"Most likely, though I cannot prove it," Dumbledore said. "I can't even prove that the position is cursed, except by reference to how no one has stayed longer than a year."
"Do you think he really wanted to teach?" Jasmine asked.
"He was a brilliant student, and I think he could have made a brilliant teacher," Dumbledore admitted. "Unfortunately, I'm sure that that's not all he wanted to do. I expect that he hoped to teach actual Dark Arts — and even recruit from among the students."
After some more discussion about what Tom was like back then, Dumbledore proceeded to tell them about having tracked down another horcrux. "The location was one that should be familiar to you — the old shack that the Gaunt family lived in. As much as I'd like to relate to you a thrilling tale of how I got around Tom's protections, the truth is much more prosaic. When I arrived, there was nothing left of it — just a large scorch mark in the dirt and an even larger area of ground where nothing will grow."
"What happened?" Jasmine asked.
"There was nothing in the vicinity which provided any clues, so I travelled down to the local village to inquire," Dumbledore explained. "Apparently there was an explosion and fire. When the villagers arrived on the scene, there was nothing left, and none of them had any idea what had happened."
"How long ago was that?" Hermione asked.
"That was perhaps the most curious part of my little adventure," Dumbledore replied. "According to the villagers, the explosion occurred on the night of Halloween — the most recent Halloween, in fact."
Jasmine and Hermione shot each other a quick, intense look which Dumbledore immediately picked up on. "Does that day mean anything to you?" he asked.
"Uh..." Jasmine floundered.
"Obviously, Professor Dumbledore," Hermione broke in smoothly. Both he and Jasmine now looked at her in curiosity. "It's the day Jasmine's parents were murdered, and she almost was herself. It's something that depresses her every year, especially when so many people in the wizarding world treat it like a joyful feast instead of stopping to remember those who were lost."
Jasmine was quick to agree. "Exactly! Do you think that it was just a coincidence?"
Dumbledore eyed the two witches, not at all convinced that there wasn't more to the date for them, but also unable to deny that it was important to Miss Potter for exactly the stated reasons. "Perhaps, perhaps not," he said slowly. After a moment, he tried baiting his hook with a bit more information. "Though I'm inclined to doubt it, since that wasn't the only horcrux to explode on that night."
"Oh?" the two witches said in unison, and Dumbledore couldn't tell if their clear interest was anything more than the obvious: a natural desire to know more about important progress in the project to render Tom Riddle mortal again.
"Yes," he continued. "One other also exploded that night, and now that I know that a second did as well, I am forced to wonder if there were even more. Unfortunately, proving it would be difficult."
"Where was the other one?" Jasmine asked.
Dumbledore wasn't sure if he wanted to answer, but before he could decide Hermione piped up to say, "Hogwarts! It was here in Hogwarts, wasn't it? That was what injured you! I remember you were absent from meals for quite a while after Halloween."
Dumbledore smiled, despite being a little taken aback at how quickly she'd put that all together. "Yes indeed, Miss Granger. I'd hardly gotten a chance to even think about studying it — I didn't even have a chance to cast any spells to verify that it was a horcrux — before it started screaming and exploded. I was fortunate that I was able to get it as far away from me as I did, otherwise my injuries would have been much worse."
"I wonder why he'd take such a risk, putting one in Hogwarts," Hermione said. "I mean, having it so close to you was dangerous for him."
"Not so dangerous after all," Dumbledore disagreed. "It was here for many, many years without being discovered."
"And I'll bet he felt more at home here than elsewhere, right?" Jasmine said. "I know I felt like this was my first real home. If he was as attached to the castle as I've been, then it kind of makes sense that he'd want to store something so important here, even if it was a risk."
Dumbledore nodded. "All very good points, Miss Potter, and I think you are right on all of them. Those are also important insights into Tom's character. Despite his refusal to allow anyone to get close to him, there is still a strong element of sentimentality in him, and this is how it manifests. Remembering this may help us identify the locations of any other horcruxes, whether they are still in one piece or not."
Once the two witches had left, Dumbledore remained at his desk, deep in contemplation as he pondered new information and reconsidered previous conclusions in the light of what he'd just seen. I attributed their growth in power to improved skill and perhaps some late development, he considered, and dismissed the idea that it had been due to any dark rituals... but what if they performed some other kind of rituals which have affected them?
And how would they know about such rituals? he wondered. They have become friends with Lovegood's daughter. In fact, I think their friendship started in the second term of their fourth year, around when I started noticing changes in them — and in Miss Potter especially. The changes in her attitudes might be attributable to such rituals, too, I suppose.
And the horcruxes? It might have been due to the soul fragment that's in Miss Potter's scar — or was in it, I should say. That would potentially allow them to affect the horcruxes before Miss Potter and Miss Granger even knew about them. It might even explain what Severus reported happening to Tom... and stopped happening recently, too, just like Miss Potter's scar recently healed.
It all fits! he concluded. There's just one problem... I have no evidence that they even know about such rituals, much less have been participating in any. And if they are, I would need to find some way to demonstrate a connection between them and the horcruxes. Well, if my reasoning is sound, that last bit shouldn't be too hard. First things first, and that's to find out what they know.
Monday, February 21, 1996, Late Afternoon.
"Fleur?" Hermione asked hesitantly once she and Jasmine were the only ones left in the Defense classroom.
"Yes?" the French professor responded while Jasmine silenced and sealed the door.
"We, well... we'd like to ask a favor, I guess," Hermione said. "Would it be possible, I mean, if it's not too much trouble, to, uh, meet with your mother and Adrienne?"
"About what?" Fleur asked, now all business. "Ze next ritual will take place on ze twentieth of next month. Is zat not soon enough?"
"Sooner would be better," Hermione admitted. "It's... it's a difficult subject. We'd like you to be there, too, but it has to be kept as secret as possible."
"It's about Voldemort," Jasmine said. "Him, souls, and the bond between me and Hermione."
Fleur's eyes narrowed. "When and where?" she asked.
"We don't want to put them out, if they—"
Fleur held up a hand to stop her. "Non, it does not matter. If it is zat important, zen zey will come. Just tell me when and where."
"Um, well, the next Hogsmeade weekend is the eleventh," Hermione said. "Maybe we could meet them in the Shrieking Shack?"
"You and Gabrielle, too, of course," Jasmine added.
"Bon, I will send word," Fleur said.
Minerva McGonagall exited the Forbidden Forest confused, worried, and at a complete loss as to what to do. She looked around to see if anyone else was nearby, then walked down to Hogsmeade, where she ducked into an empty alley. A minute later, a completely nondescript-looking witch came back out of the alley, entered the Hog's Head, purchased a bottle of firewhiskey, and sat down at a table in a darkened corner where she could drink and think in peace.
Sweet Merlin, Tonks thought to herself, what have I gotten myself into?
For the past week she had been tracing patterns of magical energy using obscure spells she'd found in the Black family library. Eventually, she'd determined that there had indeed probably been an incident near Hogwarts, and moreover that it had probably originated in or near the Forbidden Forest. Now that she'd gone through Auror academy, the Forbidden Forest wasn't nearly as intimidating as it had been when she was a student — but it was still intimidating enough, especially since it seemed that she would have to go in there alone, without backup.
That was why she hit on the idea of going in while disguised as Professor McGonagall. She figured that anything smart enough to recognize her wouldn't adopt an "attack first, ask questions after lunch" approach if she looked like a Hogwarts professor. It was risky, but she decided it was worth it.
She had no idea that using that particular disguise would get her a massive amount of intelligence that she never would have gotten otherwise... which wasn't half as surprising as the fact that her stern Transfiguration professor was apparently neck-deep in what she was investigating!
Sweet Merlin, Tonks thought to herself once again as she downed her third drink and thought back to how she'd only been in the forest for a few minutes, marvelling at how wonderful everything looked, before she was approached by a centaur and immediately assumed that her reconnaissance expedition was already at an end...
"Can I help you?" the centaur had asked. Almost seven feet tall at the shoulder and with white speckles on his sides, he certainly wasn't behaving like any centaur she'd ever heard about.
"Uh, I was, uh... just checking to see how everything here is doing," McGonagall replied somewhat vaguely, trying hard not to let on how shocked she was at being treated so courteously.
"Everything continues to grow spectacularly," the centaur said, "but the best growth continues to be around the ritual circle. Would you like me to escort you there?"
"The circle? Oh, yes, the circle," she stammered. "Yes, please, I'd like to see it."
As they started walking, McGonagall's eyes kept being drawn away from the amazing sight of the forest and to the centaur... a centaur who looked to be rather bigger and stronger than average. Quite a bit bigger, she thought with a gulp. After a few minutes, she finally broke down and said, "I hope you don't take offense, because I can assure you that none is intended, but you seem... larger than I expected."
A deep rumbling issued from somewhere in the centaur's chest, and it was a moment before McGonagall realized with astonishment that he was actually chuckling. "Thank you! Even though I stopped growing not long after the last ritual was performed here, I myself am still impressed at how much stronger and faster I am than I used to be. And I'm not even the most improved out of the entire herd!"
"The... the entire herd, then?" she asked, not quite sure how to react to that.
"Indeed, we are all very grateful for what you and the others have done, both for the forest and for us personally," the centaur answered. Before she could fully process that, they arrived at a clearing and the centaur said, "Here we are. It's just as you left it last. We would have made every effort to preserve it, in the hope that you would return to use it, but we haven't had to do anything — it seems to be preserving itself. Almost as if it wishes to be used by you again?"
She was barely listening by that point — only enough to recognize how often the centaur kept reinforcing the message that Minerva McGonagall had been a part of what had happened here. Her real focus was on just how lush and magical the growth around the clearing was. It was unlike anything she'd ever seen — heck, it was unlike anything she'd ever even heard of!
As she walked around, casting her recently-learned detection spells, she was amazed at the amount of magic infusing the site. She was frankly surprised that the place wasn't literally glowing, and she was sure that far more than a single ritual had been performed at this location. Was her old professor part of some secret cult? She hadn't detected anything dark at any of the sites, so she was sure that it couldn't have anything to do with Voldemort, but still... what had she gotten involved in?
"Is everything to your satisfaction?" the centaur asked after she had been standing still for some time, gazing around and simply reveling in the feel of the place.
"Uh, yeah, sure," McGonagall said distantly. Abruptly she realized what she had said and cleared her throat, then tried again. "Yes, indeed - it's actually far better than I could have expected."
"Excellent! I'll be sure to pass your approval along to the herd leaders," he said. "It's important to us that you are happy with the site. As I said, we do hope that you and your students will return to perform more rituals in the future."
McGonagall didn't hear a single thing he said after that because she was completely fixated on his use of the word "students." In fact, it wasn't until she was sitting in the Hog's Head, wearing another face, that her brain managed to start working properly again.
Students? she thought as she took another drink. Did he mean, like, adult apprentices or... actual Hogwarts students? Performing and participating in massively powerful magical rituals in the Forbidden Forest! Under the direction of a Hogwarts professor! And not just the Forbidden Forest... she must be smuggling them out of the castle to get them to the other sites around Britain!
If I don't do anything, she considered, then I won't be doing my job. If I take this to Scrimgeour, then I might be able to spin a tale without mentioning some of the spells I've used... but who knows what I'll be condemning McGonagall to? I just don't know what to do. Merlin's bollocks, I wish I could talk to Sirius about this...
Sunday, February 27, 1996, Afternoon.
The first thing Minerva McGonagall did once she had sat down with Jasmine and Hermione for tea was thank them for giving her the opportunity to talk with the portrait of Elladora Black. "I can't begin to express my gratitude," Minerva said. "I've so often wished that I could have spoken, even once, with the author of that book — and for many reasons, as I'm sure you can imagine."
"Yes, I can — I've felt the same way," Hermione said.
"It was also... helpful, talking to someone like her about what I've been through," Minerva went on. "Surprisingly so, actually."
"She's done a lot of good for Sirius," Jasmine said. "He was having a lot of trouble coping with having spent more than a decade with the Dementors. The fact that he's doing so well now is due in large part to the work Elladora has done with him. And the two of us have benefited from talking with her, too."
Minerva nodded. "I can well believe that, especially now."
"You do know that you're welcome to keep visiting her, right?" Hermione said. "It doesn't need to be a one-time thing."
Minerva smiled and said, "Thank you. I think I might."
During a lull in the conversation, an elf popped in to give Minerva an envelope, saying that a letter had come in via muggle post for her. She was about to put the letter aside when she saw something on the envelope and said, "Oh my, this is from my muggle friend — the one who taught Dobby and Winky how to harvest the basilisk. Maybe I should open it now."
After skimming the message, she raised one eyebrow. "He wants me to thank you on his behalf for the three basilisk-hide tunics you sent. He says, and I quote, 'On a scale of one to ten, they're awesome!'" She looked up at the two witches and said, "I assume that's a good thing?"
"I'd say so," Jasmine said with a smile.
Minerva looked down again and kept reading. "Before I always thought that England was just the land of tweed, scones, and warm beer. Now I'm upgrading you to the land of skin-tight leather, funky little elves, and really useful monsters." She looked back up at the sniggering witches and commented, "I suppose we should feel flattered?"
She looked back down and after a moment said, "Now this just doesn't make any sense. He writes, 'Had I known that the skin of a giant magical snake made such good armor, I would have looked at my old town's former mayor very, very differently.' Is that an American thing? I can't tell."
"Hmmm," she said after reading a bit further. "Apparently one of the girls he gave a tunic to sends her thanks for 'the awesome little leather dress' and asks 'where can we get matching boots?'" Minerva just shook her head. "I really don't understand Americans."
Sunday, February 27, 1996, Evening.
Cornelius Fudge downed another shot of firewhiskey before he started reviewing his spies' reports once again. The newspaper articles about the use of dark magic by Potter and Geezer had produced some increased animosity towards them, but not nearly enough — certainly not as much as his advisors had assured him it would. He had a burning suspicion that there were traitors in his administration, but he wasn't sure why he thought that or who they might be.
Regardless, more articles would be published, as had always been the plan, but it was clear that even more would be needed. More, and more drastic measures, he was sure of it.
But what? he wondered. I could order Dolores to do something to them in the school, but she'd probably get caught, and then she'd implicate me. Weatherby already told me everything he knows. I could order their arrest, but the last time I tried that the situation spun out of control rather quickly. Those two witches have far too much unexpected support in the school for them to be taken very easily there.
That's it! he thought. I need to get them out of the school — get them in a place where I control the environment! But where... the Ministry, of course! But for what? I can't invite them to come in to be interviewed by the aurors — that would be too obvious. And Amelia would never play along. Sports? She plays Quidditch... or she did, until Dolores screwed that up. Not urgent enough, though. Misuse of Muggle... no, no, that's stupid.
Fudge continued to work through half the night, trying to find some way to lure those two witches out of the castle and into an environment where he could deal with them properly.