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 "Who Will Fill a Coward's Grave?" by robst. After fourth year, Hermione is determined that Harry will not be left completely alone and isolated with the Dursleys, no matter what Dumbledore says. Soon everything changes. H/Hr.

Final Countdown: 10...9...8...7...6!

Chapter 45 - One Way Or Another

Tuesday, March 28, 1996, Evening.

"Did everyone get their tunics?" Hermione asked once they'd gathered at their usual table in the library. "Are you all wearing them?" The tunics had just come in yesterday, and the study group members were all stunned by the gift since Hermione and Jasmine had kept the harvesting of the basilisk and enchanting of its remains a secret.

"Yes," Padma said as she ran her fingers under her school cloak. "This is absolutely amazing. I had no idea that any sort of material could be enchanted like this, let alone something already as magical as basilisk hide!"

"If you don't mind my asking, how much did these cost?" Daphne asked.

"It cost zem nothing," Gabrielle answered. "Ze veela created and enchanted it all for free for Jasmine, Hermione, and zeir friends."

"That was really generous of you — of all of you," Daphne said, turning to include all three girls in her statement. "This is a phenomenal gift."

"You're our friends," Jasmine replied. "Because of your support of us and because of the plans we have, you're likely to be in danger again. We can't prevent that, but we do want to provide whatever protection we can."

"These tunics will certainly do it," Susan observed. "I don't know of anything that would provide the sort of protection that these will. Not even the top aurors wear anything this good."

"Thank you!" Hannah exclaimed. "Thank you so much for these. They make me feel safer."

"Well, I have something else for everyone, too," Hermione announced, pulling out a stack of S.P.E.W. buttons.

"But we already have buttons," Daphne protested, conveniently failing to mention that she and the others tried to avoid carrying them around.

"These are different," Hermione insisted. "I've put a Protean charm on them that will allow any of us to call in help from the others. If you hold it tight in your hand, warming it up, the others will grow warm and vibrate as an alert. They'll also be able to lead others to you. If you scratch in a message on the back, all the others will show that message."

"Wow, that's complicated spellwork," Padma said as she took her button. "How long did it take you?"

"I ruined quite a few as I was working it out," Hermione admitted. "But once I figured out how to do it, it only took a couple of days to get them all spelled."

"I'll definitely keep mine close, thanks," Hannah said, pinning her button inside her robe along with everyone else.

Thursday, March 30, 1996, Morning.

"What is it this time?" Jasmine asked as Hermione read the latest Educational Decree to be posted outside the Great Hall.

"All magical objects must be turned over to the Chief Inquisitor for safekeeping," Hermione said as she read Educational Decree Number Thirty-Nine aloud. "Students who fail to do so will be expelled. Any students caught casting recreational spells will have their wands confiscated."

"That could be a problem," Neville pointed out. "That would apply to our tunics. Even our buttons."

"What isn't magical around here?" Hermione asked. "Some quills and parchment, I'm sure, but what about our wands? Photographs?"

"It would be bad enough if she simply wanted to inspect all magical objects — that would take forever," Neville said as they walked in to breakfast. "But that decree says that she intends to keep them all. It's absurd!"

"Hopefully someone will tell her that," Jasmine said, "though I shudder to think of what sort of 'improved' version she might come up with. Especially since it's a good bet that she's targeting us."

Friday, March 31, 1996, Late Morning.

"I don't care, Ron, I'm sick of this!" Lavender's loud voice caused everyone else in the common room to stop whatever they were doing as they looked to the portrait door.

"Can't you give me a chance?" Ron pleaded as he walked in behind her.

"I already did, though I didn't tell you," Lavender retorted. "For a month now I've been trying to give you space and not push you like I was before. But instead of working on our relationship, you've just remained distant. Half the time it's like we aren't even dating at all!"

"What?" Ron asked. "How?"

"I can't believe you!" Lavender shouted, turning back to face her now-ex-boyfriend. "We talked about this! I told you that you were becoming too distant. I told you that you needed to spend more time with me if we were going to have a real relationship. Weren't you even listening?"

"But... I didn't think that it was so serious," Ron protested.

"Ugh!" Lavender exclaimed, clearly at the end of her rope. "You're a nice guy, Ron, and fun to be around... when you're around, at least. But this isn't working. I need someone who is committed — someone who will be there for me without my having to ask it. Right now, that's just not you."

Lavender stalked up to the girls' dorm, quickly followed by several other witches, while Ron just stood in the common room, dumbfounded.

Jasmine and Hermione were at a loss, unsure of what to do. After a long moment, Hermione went upstairs to sit with Lavender while Jasmine stayed with Ron. They were friends with both and wanted to show support to each without alienating the other.

Taking his arm, Jasmine led Ron over to a couch and sat down with him. She didn't say anything or try to press, she simply sat and waited for him.

"I think I really buggered that up," he finally said.

"Maybe," Jasmine conceded. "But muggles have a saying: 'It takes two to tango.' What that means is that in some situations, two people share responsibility for what's going on. Whatever mistakes may have been made, it isn't necessarily the case that you were the only one making them."

"I guess, but... well, she's been awfully clingy," Ron said. "She's been like that for a while. At first I liked the attention, but over time it got to be too much. I didn't have enough time alone. And then, after Christmas..."

Jasmine didn't need to be told what he meant, and she'd been wondering how he was dealing with the loss of his father. "I don't mean to pry, and tell me to bugger off if this is too personal, but... well, have you talked to anyone about what happened?"

Ron frowned. "Talked? What do you mean?"

"You know, about how you're feeling."

"Why would I do that?" Ron said angrily, crossing his arms and looking away from her. "It sucks. It's horrible. What else is there to say?"

Jasmine sighed, disheartened at how accurate her fears had been. The question was, what was she going to do about it?

On Old Compton Street in Soho, London, many residents and shoppers paused when they saw that a recently-vacated building had been occupied seemingly overnight. The name over the front door said, "Foundation for Equality," and a poster hanging in a front window described the organization's purpose as advocating for greater social, political, and legal equality for gays and lesbians in Britain, including especially equality in marriage, a goal which many thought incredibly ambitious.

Created by two unassuming dentists from Crawley who also held leadership roles on the board of directors, the Foundation for Equality was officially funded by donations from individuals who supported the group's goals. Unofficially, it was massive funding from the veela which made the group a powerhouse that would pay for advertising, research, and lobbying at all levels of British society... and soon throughout continental Europe as well. No one ever suspected because of the expert magical and financial assistance of the goblins, who also contributed their own funding.

It wouldn't be long before they were opening branch offices across Britain and Europe, offering legal aid to gays and lesbians to deal with the various acts of discrimination the organization was working to eliminate.

Saturday, April 1, 1996, Morning.

"Ah, Minerva, I didn't expect to see you here this morning."

Tonks spun around and almost drew her wand before she realized that Albus bloody Dumbledore was walking up behind her. I was certain that I would be safe this early! she berated herself. I should have come back when classes were in session instead!

"Oh, I, uh, thought I would check to see how the forest was doing," she responded, trying desperately to pull herself together so she didn't give herself away.

"Indeed?" Dumbledore asked with twinkling eyes. "What a delightful coincidence. I am here this morning for the very same reason. Perhaps you'll allow me to accompany you?"

"Of course, yes," Tonks replied. "I'd, uh, be happy for the company, Head... uh, Albus."

"Wonderful!" he said, looking around at the lush greenery of the forest. "Where should we head to first?"

"I hadn't decided," Tonks said hesitantly, wishing she had a good excuse to separate. Or apparate.

"Well, this direction looks like it will be interesting," Dumbledore announced and started off on a course that Tonks knew would take him to the ritual circle. Not knowing what else to do, she hurried to catch up to the wizard, who was unexpectedly nimble, given his age and what she'd heard about his injuries last year.

How in Merlin's name does McGonagall get around in these old-fashioned robes? Tonks wondered as she repeatedly stumbled in her effort to keep up.

"The Forbidden Forest doesn't look nearly so dangerous and foreboding anymore, does it?" the headmaster asked.

"No, no it doesn't," Tonks answered, noting that everything was continuing to flourish.

"I must confess, it's looking far better than I'd imagined."

Does he know about the rituals? she thought. Maybe this is a good opportunity...

"Do you think the changes are permanent now?" Tonks asked, looking for an angle that wouldn't arouse suspicion. "I'd hate to see the forest go back to what it was."

"It's hard to say," Dumbledore mused. "I also hope that these changes are here to stay, but only time will tell if that will be so. If they are, we'll have have to change the forest's name, though that will make my traditional warning at the Opening Feast a little less impressive." Every once in awhile he stopped to examine some plant or flower more closely, but Tonks never came up with another question to ask. She didn't know if Dumbledore knew what McGonagall knew, and she didn't want to let him know that she didn't know as much as she should know, otherwise he'd know... and this is why undercover work always give me a headache, she groused.

Once they reached the ritual circle, Dumbledore stopped and looked around at it for a long time, taking in the view as if it was the first time he'd ever seen a forest like that. Tonks was so focused on Dumbledore that she didn't hear the centaur approaching until he was almost right behind her.

"Headmaster, Professor," he said in greeting. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you," Dumbledore responded. "I wanted to see for myself all the changes that have occurred here in the forest. I've been remiss in not visiting sooner, and I regret that greatly now."

"We are pleased with it as well," the centaur said. "We look forward to when another ritual can be held on this site."

"Do you?" Dumbledore asked, turning around and looking at Tonks. "And what say you to that, Minerva? Will you and the others be holding another ritual here any time soon?"

Tonks could feel the stare of the centaur from above and behind her, but she was transfixed by Dumbledore's twinkling gaze. "I, uh, I'm really not sure," she stammered. "I... I haven't had a chance to, uh... decide?"

"Indeed?" Dumbledore responded. "There are so many options, I suppose that's not surprising. I wouldn't wait too long, though. These things take time to plan."

"Y-yes, you're right," Tonks said. "In fact, I should probably get back and work on that right now. If you don't need me, that is?"

"No, no, that's quite alright," Dumbledore replied with an airy wave in her direction. "I'll see you later back at the castle."

"Right, definitely," Tonks said as she turned and quickly made her way back to the edge of the forest, stumbling several times along the way. Once there, she dispensed with any further attempts at subtlety and immediately apparated to Diagon Alley, then to her apartment, where she finally morphed back into her normal body and transfigured her clothing into something more comfortable.

"Merlin!" she exclaimed aloud. "I can't believe I got away with that!" She dropped heavily onto her couch, feeling something odd in a back pocket when she did so. She groped around and pulled out a folded piece of parchment which she didn't recognize. When she unfolded it, a sherbet lemon fell out, and she found a message written in neat, loopy script:

Nymphadora,

Have Amelia contact me to set up a meeting about this.

- A.P.W.B.D.

"Shite!"

"Ron, get our brothers," Ginny ordered as she, Jasmine, and Hermione walked through the common room.

"Wha—?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"Just get them," Hermione said, following along closely behind Ginny while carrying a large object in a cloth bag. The three witches immediately headed up the stairs while Ron got the twins, and they all met in the seventh-year boys' dorm.

"Not that we mind having beautiful witches in our room," the first twin said.

"But two of you are more like sisters to us," the second said.

"And one of you is definitely like a sister to us," the first added.

"Making this all kinds of awkward," they said in unison.

"Ugh!" Ron exclaimed, making a face at his brothers. "I did not need that image going through my mind!"

"Don't blame us for your dirty mind," the second twin said with a shrug.

"Oi!" Ginny cried. "This is serious."

"We've noticed that you boys have been... well, that you haven't been doing so well these last three months," Hermione said. "And, being boys, we figured that you've been 'dealing' with things by trying to act like nothing's wrong. By trying to maintain a calm, cool facade. Am I right?"

All three of the Weasley boys shuffled uncomfortably, but didn't say anything.

"Right, we'll take that as a yes," Jasmine said. "Fortunately, we have a means for helping you." As she spoke, Hermione pulled a magical portrait out of the cloth bag. "Meet Elladora Black, a mind healer in her day who has been helping Sirius deal with the effects of Azkaban and the Dementors. She's also been helping all of our friends who were attacked at the end of hols."

"Hello, boys," Elladora said with a wave of her hand.

"Helping?" Ron asked. "How? She's just a portrait."

"Ronald, manners!" Hermione snapped. "She's a mind healer, so she has a lot of experience with talking to people about their problems. She can't use magic to help people anymore, but she can still assist them in working through their issues."

"Listen, it helps," Ginny said, trying to prevent Ron from putting his foot in it again. "Not only have I seen how much it helps others, but... well, it's helped me. I talk to her regularly, just like others in the study group do, and it gets a little better every day. When I asked her about helping you three as well, she agreed."

"We've had her hanging in our dorm since we returned from hols," Jasmine said. "We'll leave her here this weekend, then bring her back every few days for an evening or a day. You can't tell anyone about her, though, because she's not an official part of the castle. It's also technically a violation of privacy to have a portrait in a dorm, so you'll need to get Lee's explicit permission to have her here for long. That was one of McGonagall's conditions for allowing us to have her in our dorm."

"It's a pity that Mum moved in with Auntie Muriel," Ginny observed. "If she'd stayed with Sirius, then she could get help this way too. I'm not sure if living with Muriel will end up doing much good for her."

"Has she decided whether to rebuild the Burrow?" Jasmine asked.

Ginny shook her head. "No. I suspect she tries to avoid thinking about it."

Hermione hung the portrait in an out-of-the-way spot, and Elladora nodded her approval. As the girls quietly left, she said, "I think it would be easiest to talk to all three of you together, just to start. Then one at a time. I don't want you to feel any pressure or obligations here — this time to talk is for you, not for me. It's to help you unload some of the things you are feeling. The more you tell me, though, the easier it will be for me to help you deal with those feelings."

"Does it ever go away?" one of the twins asked quietly. "The pain, I mean?"

Elladora looked back at him with sympathy. "We never stop missing those who have left us — especially when they leave us so unexpectedly like your father did. There will always be a hole in our lives that can't quite be filled. But the pain does decrease over time, and the hole gets smaller as our lives are taken up with other things and other people. Just know that ignoring or suppressing the pain won't help. Instead, you need to learn to focus on all of the positive emotions you associate with your father. Focus on the your love for him, and the grief at his absence will grow easier to bear."

Saturday, April 1, 1996, Afternoon.

"Dolores! Dolores!"

"Yes, what is it? What's going on?" Umbridge asked as she rushed into her tiny office.

"It's about time," Fudge growled from the fireplace. "I've been trying to contact you all day!"

"I'm sorry about that, but I've been out patrolling the halls, looking for troublemakers—" she tried to explain, but even through the fire, his thunderous expression proclaimed that he didn't care.

"That's not important now," Fudge cut her off. "Things are getting bad here. More and more of my supporters are refusing to return my calls. I've actually been seeing people carrying copies of the Quibbler in the halls! Sirius Black has been getting more support himself, and I believe that he's been organizing opposition to me in the Wizengamot. I'm certain that I've got several traitors on staff, but I can't determine which of our people here are loyal and which aren't. Amelia is snooping around all the time, and I have no idea what she'll find if she keeps looking."

"What do you want me to do?" Umbridge asked, worried about how badly things were going at the Ministry without her guidance.

"It all comes down to Dumbledore, like you said," Fudge answered. "He's behind all of this — I know it. Once we take him down and expose his treason, everything will fall back into place like it used to be."

"That's right, he's the key," Umbridge agreed wholeheartedly.

"If you know he's the key, why haven't you dealt with him yet?" Fudge asked in exasperation.

"I've been trying, but he still has a great deal of power here in the castle—"

"I'm not interested in your excuses, Dolores!" Fudge exclaimed. "All I care about is results — and you don't have much more time to get them! Once Potter takes her OWL exams, kicking her out of Hogwarts won't allow us to snap her wand, which means we won't have much leverage over her. If that happens, we won't have much leverage over Dumbledore, either. So that's your deadline! Either find a way to get Potter and expose Dumbledore before the OWL exams, or you can forget about your job — including your job here, because we'll all be out on the street!"

With that, the connection was closed and Dolores Umbridge was left alone in her office, the silence only broken by the occasional mewling of the kittens on the numerous pink plates adorning her office walls. I came to Hogwarts to execute a plan, she fumed, and after seven months, what do I have to show for all my efforts? Nothing! Not only haven't I achieved anything, but the situation has deteriorated — and far more than I could have guessed, if Cornelius' demeanor was anything to go by.

She now had just two months to finish the job. It was time for all the brats in the castle to learn what a mistake it was to cross Dolores Umbridge.

Sunday, April 2, 1996, Morning.

"Another one?" Ginny asked resignedly. "We don't typically get new ones on a weekend — she usually saves them for the weekdays, when more students come down in the morning for breakfast."

"Yeah, well, I'm guessing she didn't want to wait on this one," Neville said as he read the latest decree from Umbridge.

Educational Decree Number Thirty-Nine
All students must consent to being questioned about suspected illicit activities.

"That's not good," Ginny observed. "That's not good at all. We need to make sure that no one misses it and that everyone is prepared, just in case." Neville nodded and decided that maybe this would be a good use for their new badges. With Ginny providing cover, he walked into a nearby alcove and scratched a short message on the back.

Soon there was a larger crowd gathered around the posted decree, including several members of the study group. None of them looked happy because they knew that they were all in violation of several other recent decrees — decrees that they were sure were aimed at them, possibly due to an informant telling Umbridge about what they were doing.

Later, during their weekly meeting over tea, Professor McGonagall would tell Jasmine and Hermione that she wasn't sure what Umbridge was looking for, exactly, but she suspected that the questioning would start with other, more vulnerable students first, so Umbridge could build a case against her primary targets before questioning them directly.

Sunday, April 2, 1996, Evening.

"You surprised me in there, Bella," Rodolphus said to his wife. "I never expected you, of all people, to try to contradict the Dark Lord."

"I didn't want to leave his side!" she insisted. "I know that what he wanted me to do is important, but his own success is critical! As soon as he said that he would be taking charge and personally leading the most important mission of the war, one where that Potter brat wouldn't stand a chance of thwarting him this time, I knew where I needed to be."

"You were lucky he didn't curse you for such impertinence," Rodolphus observed.

"I'd have been willing to accept being cursed if it meant that he allowed me to come with him," Bellatrix declared. "No sacrifice is too great to ensure our Lord's victory!"

Rodolphus simply shook his head. Up in a darkened corner of the wall, one of the portraits quickly exited his frame.

Monday, April 3, 1996, Morning.

"And I thought the last few decrees were bad," Ron said as they all sat down to breakfast. Jasmine noted that he seemed to be in a slightly better mood than had become normal for him in recent months, and she was hopeful that talking with Elladora's portrait had been helping.

"I know," Neville agreed. "The others were disturbing, especially yesterday's, but this new one is down right scary." The Gryffindors weren't the only students discussing the newly-posted Educational Decree Number Ninety-Eight which said: "Students who would like to assist the Ministry by joining the Inquisitorial Squad for extra credit may sign up in the Chief Inquisitor's office."

"Who do you suppose will sign up?" Ginny asked.

"No one in Gryffindor, I hope," Ron muttered darkly.

"Except perhaps the informer we probably have," Hermione pointed out. "And he or she probably wouldn't reveal their new job."

As they continued to speculate about what the duties of the new Inquisitorial Squad might be, a group of regal-looking owls entered the Great Hall, each bearing an identical parchment envelope to a different student. At the Gryffindor table, envelopes were delivered to Hermione, Neville, and each of the Weasleys.

"I wonder what this is... and why you didn't get one, Jas," Hermione said as she cast detection charms, then finally opened it. "Oh, it's from Sirius!"

"Let me see," Jasmine said as she leaned sideways.

"A summer ball?" Hermione asked. "I don't remember you or him ever mentioning that."

"Oh, that's right," Jasmine replied. "He did mention it to me, but asked that I not say anything. He wanted to surprise everyone with these invitations. Apparently it's 'expected' of people like him to hold balls every so often, and his adoption of me is an occasion that practically requires it. So he decided to host something in the summer, but he sent out invitations now so people can get dresses, clear their calendars, that sort of thing."

"This is nice and all," Ginny said slowly, "but I don't know if I can—"

"Keep looking," Jasmine interrupted. "Sirius said he'd include something extra for you and your brothers."

Ginny shuffled past the invitation and R.S.V.P. card and found a gift certificate for a dress at Gossypamer & Organza's. There was no galleon amount on the parchment, just the words "one fancy dress and accessories." Her brothers received similarly marked gift certificates for an upscale store in Diagon Alley that specialized in clothing for wizards.

"Jasmine, we couldn't—" Ron tried to protest, but she simply waved her hand to cut him off.

"This is from Sirius, and he insists," she informed them. "You're coming for my sake because you're my friends — most of the people there will be stuffy old adults that I won't know and will have no real interest in, though I will have to talk to them. Politics, you know. Since you need to wear something that you may not get a chance to wear again, Sirius decided that it only made sense if he provided it. You'll already be using up a long afternoon and evening to do me a favor — why should you have to spend money on a dress or robes as well?"

It took a bit of cajoling, but Jasmine was eventually able to get her friends to accept that it wasn't charity they were receiving, but rather a bit of assistance in helping Jasmine herself.

Tuesday, April 4, 1996, Evening.

"Last month I told you that I had bad news, namely that we had reason to think that Death Eaters might attack the castle in some way. Probably by infiltrating it in some fashion," Jasmine said as the study group meeting wound down. "Well, now I have worse news: we have reason to think that Voldemort himself intends to come here, personally."

Everyone around the table blanched.

"As scary as that is," Hermione said, "keep in mind that you don't have to face him. In fact, you shouldn't. Remember that the prophecy says Jasmine is the one with the ability to defeat him, not you, so you can't even hope to get in a lucky shot."

"You, the DA, and the professors will deal with Voldemort's Death Eaters," Jasmine told them. "Unfortunately, we should expect that he'll have at least some of his best with him, including Bellatrix Lestrange for certain. He's not likely to bring his worst and newest recruits on any mission that he cares enough about to lead personally."

"This means we have to work even harder at fighting in teams, right?" Neville asked, receiving several nods in response.

"I... I don't suppose you have any idea when this might happen?" Daphne asked, clearly worried.

"No, but we haven't heard anything that would suggest that his plans have been finalized yet," Jasmine replied. "So I wouldn't expect this weekend or anything soon. But after that..."

They all looked a little overwhelmed at the news.

"It was bad enough knowing that Death Eaters would probably end up in the castle and we'd have to fight them here," Hannah said, giving voice to something everyone else was thinking. "But now we hear that V-V... You-Know-Who will probably be here as well... that we may well end up seeing him! Can't we get aurors here to help?"

Susan shook her head sadly. "I know my auntie would like to have aurors here, but she can't justify it — not to Fudge, at least. And even if we get a chance to call for aurors when we're attacked, we can't be sure how long it would take for them to get here."

"Which means it will be up to us, at least for a while," Neville said, looking grim.

"Hopefully you won't see him, even if he's here," Jasmine pointed out. "There are only a couple of places he'd likely head: Gryffindor Tower for me, the Headmaster's Office for Dumbledore... maybe the Great Hall, if it happens during a meal."

"That's right, it could happen at any time!" Hermione exclaimed. "We should ask Dobby and Winky to start a watch, especially at night."

Jasmine nodded. "That's a good idea. Anyway, if we know he's in the castle, we'll use the badges to signal where he is and where he seems to be going. Just don't get between him and his destination, and you won't have to worry about him."

"No, we'll just have to worry about the most vicious of his inner circle Death Eaters," Blaise said glumly.

"Not to mention some fellow students," Tracey added. "Quite a few Slytherins have joined Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad. I'd expect them and maybe a few others to help any Death Eaters who enter the castle."

"Can the Slytherin dorms be locked down?" Hermione asked. "If you can shut everyone in, it will protect those who don't want to get involved while containing those who would fight against us."

"I don't know..." Daphne said slowly, "but that's a good idea. We'll look into it."

"In the meantime, what can you tell us about the Inquisitorial Squad?" Neville asked. "What have the Slytherin members been saying?"

"Quite a few Slytherins have joined," Daphne answered, "mostly those from families that supported You-Know-Who in the past, but also some that were more neutral.

"Pansy joined, but it didn't look like her heart was in it," Tracey offered.

"Most of them seem to believe Umbridge that they will be rewarded," Daphne continued. "They also apparently think that joining will help them get jobs at the Ministry later on."

Once they were back in their dorm, Hermione climbed into Jasmine's bed.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?" Jasmine asked with a lopsided grin, but it fell when she realized how nervous Hermione was. "Is something wrong?"

"I... have an idea for how to deal with Voldemort," Hermione said quietly, "but I'm not sure you're going to like it."

"Oh, it's one of those ideas," Jasmine said, closing her eyes for a moment and sighing deeply. "Right, then, give it to me straight." So Hermione did.

Once she was done, Jasmine frowned. "You're right, I don't like it — I don't like it at all. It's way too dangerous for you!"

"I'll be in danger anyway," Hermione countered. "And in some ways, I might even be in less danger than you."

Jasmine tried to argue the point, but finally, reluctantly, she had to give way. "I still don't like it," she said stubbornly.

"But it's one thing that we can be pretty sure that he won't be expecting," Hermione pointed out.

Jasmine sighed deeply. "Yeah, you're probably right. How long will it take to set up?"

Wednesday, April 5, 1996, Evening.

"Albus! Must you scare my aurors like that!" Amelia Bones said without preamble as she stepped out of the fireplace and into the Headmaster's office.

"Why, whatever do you mean, Amelia?" Dumbledore asked, attempting to look innocent.

"Oh, don't try that on me," she retorted with a huff, dropping into a chair across from him. "What gave her away?"

"Aside from the fact that I'd just left a conversation with Minerva back in the castle? I think the biggest giveaway was the extent to which she stumbled while trying to keep up with me as we walked through the forest. Minerva has made the trip quite a bit by now and would be able to keep to her feet much more easily."

Bones nodded as she accepted the proffered glass of firewhiskey, though she chose to set it down on the table rather than drink it immediately. "That's always been her biggest problem, so I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I take it from your note and the context in which it was delivered that you know something about what Auror Tonks has been investigating? I know she didn't tell you herself, since she had to take an oath to that effect before she was given the case."

"It was only a guess on my part, but my guesses tend to be pretty good," Dumbledore replied, then frowned thoughtfully. "Well, they used to be pretty good. Lately I've had to come to terms with the fact that quite a few of my more recent guesses, inferences, and conclusions have been wildly off the mark. Perhaps I should have been a bit more cautious in this case, but it seems that I was right."

Bones raised one eyebrow, clearly curious about the many things which the great Albus Dumbledore could have been so wrong about, but she didn't pursue it. "Right about what, exactly?" she asked.

"If I'm not mistaken, young Nymphadora has been investigating the ritual circle and the changes that have developed around it," Dumbledore answered. "And not just that circle, either."

"And if she is?"

"As it so happens, I know a great deal about what's been going on. In fact, I daresay that I know everything you want to know."

"So what's been going on?" Bones asked, unable to keep from leaning forward a little in anticipation.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you," Dumbledore said simply.

"What?!"

"I'm under oath not to share the information without permission, and right now I don't have that permission," he explained. "I might be able to get it, if necessary, but I'm not sure that it is necessary right now, since no laws have been violated."

"I...! You...!" Bones spluttered. "I'd forgotten how infuriating you can be, Albus," she finally said.

Dumbledore chuckled lightly. "I apologize, Amelia. I suppose I shouldn't have done that, but I get so few opportunities these days."

"Regardless," Bones said as she shook her head, "can you tell me anything? More to the point, can you give me a reason not to haul Minerva McGonagall in for questioning?"

"You'd do that, even without a crime having been committed?"

"That has yet to be determined," Bones said grimly. "We haven't completed our investigation. There have been enough bizarre magical events that have had significant magical effects to justify our concern. Questioning someone we're sure has been involved would be completely appropriate."

Dumbledore sighed. "That would be an unfortunate decision on your part. She is not responsible for what's been happening, but targeting her would surely lose any trust you might have with those who are."

"So, you do know some important things."

"Yes, I do. While I cannot tell you all that I'm sure you want to know, there are a few things I can say. Nothing that has happened is dark, let alone evil. Intent-wise, it's all about as light as anything I've seen — they want the best for others and are looking to make it happen. Thus far, the effects are all positive as well, though of course none can see the future in enough detail to be certain that nothing negative will ever occur as a consequence. Even the best of intentions..." Dumbledore sighed as he trailed off, not wanting to complete that thought.

"Given how much magical power has been unleashed at each site," Bones said, "it's difficult to believe that there's no potential risk for the Ministry or the people, and I can't take the chance that those involved aren't any sort of threat."

"Understandable," Dumbledore admitted. "While I cannot say with absolute certainty that the power cannot be used to attack or harm, from what I've seen, it seems unlikely. The power appears to be about creation and rejuvenation, not destruction. Those involved are not looking for dominance. They don't seek to take over the Ministry or society, though of course they have their own opinions about how things are currently being run."

"Negative opinions, I presume."

"I suspect that I can't go into any details there without putting my oath at risk," Dumbledore said carefully, "but that's a reasonable inference." What he couldn't say was that those negative opinions extended to far, far more than just the current Minister and his lackeys. Oh, how I wish I could tell you more, Dumbledore lamented. I could use the advice of someone relatively unbiased, and in this situation Minerva definitely isn't.

Bones sighed in exasperation. "I don't like something that big happening without anyone in the Ministry even knowing what's going on, much less providing any oversight. We're tasked with protecting wizards and witches in Britain, but we can't do that if a small group takes it upon themselves to do something like this on their own, in secret and without any accountability."

"Yet at the same time, would you trust the current Ministry to do right by such people, even given how much good they are doing?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, I suppose not," Bones conceded. "But you and I both know that change is coming. It's what we're both working for. What about then?"

You have no idea how much change is coming, he wanted to say, but couldn't. Instead, he said, "If the Ministry changes sufficiently, then I think those involved would be willing to reveal themselves, at least to a limited degree. I think they might trust you enough to reveal some of their secrets directly to you. I would be happy to advocate on your behalf with them. I know you to be a just and honorable witch, and I think that I can convince them to regard you as such as well." I don't know if anyone will be able to moderate their plans, he thought. I know I can't, but perhaps you can, Amelia. When the time comes, you might be able to work with them while still preserving some of our current culture.

"Thank you," Bones said as she finally took a sip of the firewhiskey she had received earlier. "I have enough on my plate as it is, dealing with Fudge inside the Ministry and You-Know-Who outside it. I don't need a third player causing problems as well."

"Oh, I think you'll find that those involved are helping a great deal with one of those problems," Dumbledore responded with a twinkle in his eye.

Amelia Bones simply glared at him, unwilling to let herself be baited again.