I'd like to thank thekingofsweden1, rpeh and brianna-xox for beta reading. Their work and diligence has improved the story a lot.
Chapter 9: Betrayals
London, Ministry of Magic, September 3rd, 1999, 08.15 hours
Minister for Magic Lucius Malfoy smiled at Albert Selwyn and put his report from the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office down. "Thorough as every week, Albert."
"Thank you, sir."
"And what about your other project?" Lucius leaned forward.
"I've investigated two of the scholars the Unspeakables have been in contact with, but they had nothing in their notes but conjecture and hearsay about Ottoman Artifacts," the young wizard said. "Since they were not retained as consultants by the Department, I did not interrogate them personally."
"What about the third?" Lucius asked. He was very familiar with that affair - Augustus was not a man he could afford to lose track of.
"A search of his room in London did not reveal much, but the Department of Mysteries has continued to pay his lodgings and retain his services. Therefore, it is very likely that he possesses useful knowledge."
"I would think that would make him a prime target for a more personal touch," Lucius remarked. Was Albert getting sloppy?
"Yes, sir. Though given current events, I decided to proceed with more caution. As an important source for the Department of Mysteries, Mister Brockton is under some scrutiny."
"They have him under surveillance?"
"Yes, sir. There are detection devices in his room as well as unorthodox, yet subtle wards. As he tends to apparate directly to and from his room, tracking him has been difficult."
Lucius sneered. "Difficult? For a wizard of your talents?"
"I'm confident I can work around those defenses, sir," Albert said, though a bit stiffly, "but I did not think it worth the risk to rush this."
Lucius stared at him for a moment. The young man met his eyes without flinching. He hadn't lost his nerve, then. "Alright. What about Nott?"
"Theodore Nott is still in his family's town house near Diagon Alley. He has barely left the building since the death of his parents."
"He's hiding. Smart of him. Has he had any visitors?" Theo Nott wasn't a threat yet, and wouldn't be for some time. Taking over his parents' estate and investments was no easy task for the young wizard.
"There have been regular Floo connections to the Parkinson Manor."
Lucius frowned. He didn't think the elder Parkinson would make it obvious where he was traveling to by taking the Floo Network. Not after the Notts had died due to sabotage of their Floo connection. That left his daughter.
"Do you wish for an intervention to prevent a relationship from being formed between Miss Parkinson and Mister Nott?"
Lucius shook his head. "No. Focus on this scholar." He couldn't afford to waste his agent's efforts on the hope that Pansy and Draco would get together. Not with the Dark Lord on the offensive, his spy in danger, and Augustus doing who knows what.
"Yes, sir."
"Has your sister settled in at Hogwarts again?"
"Yes, sir." The young wizard raised his chin just a bit.
Lucius nodded, smiling. "Good. In these trying times, it is reassuring to know that your loved ones are safe."
"Yes, sir." Albert nodded stiffly. He had understood the message.
Lucius needed results.
London, Diagon Alley, September 3rd, 1999, 11.17 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione studied the robes on display in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Pretty, but impractical. And, if she was honest, they didn't offer much variety compared to the muggle clothes she had seen. She buried that traitorous thought and entered the shop. There shouldn't be many clients so shortly before lunch, not on a Friday. And with the rush for new student robes during August over, a number of the employees would have taken time off. It was the perfect time for her plan.
Anthony had been annoyed at having to fetch lingerie for Fudge, so she walked over to the intimate apparel section. The selection was more diverse there, quite similar to what she had seen in the confiscated muggle magazines. She wondered if maybe Madam Malkin was using illegal material as inspiration.
Hermione noticed that a saleswitch was eyeing her nervously, and felt a brief bout of annoyance. Wands protected everyone in Britain with their lives! Why would a law-abiding citizen feel nervous around her? She could use this though. Nervous people made mistakes, and would try to avoid her.
Turning around, she addressed the witch. "I have some questions about this garment."
The girl smiled - it looked a bit weak to her - and nodded. "Of course."
"Do you have that in a smaller size as well?" She pointed at a particularly complex looking piece of silk and lace.
"They will adjust to your body perfectly, Miss."
"Despite the silk?" She raised an eyebrow. Silk was notoriously hard to enchant.
The girl nodded. "It's a special silk, Miss. A trade secret."
"Really?" Hermione frowned. "And it can be coloured as well?"
"Yes, Miss. We can do that for you, if you prefer to have professionals do it."
That would make placing tracking charms easy, though she couldn't exactly predict when Fudge would buy the next gift of this kind for his mistress. Fortunately, she had another way to get the witch's name. Distracting the saleswitch with another question about lingerie, she pointed her wand at the other end of the shop and cast a silent Banishing Charm at the rows of mannequins. They toppled over, startling the other witch.
"Please excuse me!" the saleswitch blurted out and went to straighten things out. Hermione nodded, but moved to the counter in the centre of the shop, where the till was located - and the sales records. She had duplicated the records before the mannequins were all standing again.
A few more questions about lingerie later she left the shop. If she had had the galleons to spare, she would have bought a 'teddy' - just to check if there really was silk that could be easily enchanted.
London, Ministry of Magic, September 3rd, 1999, 12.05 hours
"Here's your food!" Hermione announced, placing the take-out boxes on the desk in her office.
"How much do we owe you?" Dean asked.
"My treat." She still felt guilty about lying to them.
"You're quite generous lately," Dean said. Colin was already opening his lunch.
"I'm just buttering you two up since we'll have more work coming." She grinned at him.
"I see. We're working, and you're off with your lover." Dean shook his head. "When will we be meeting him?"
"Next week, I'm not yet certain on the exact date," Hermione said. She'd invite Luna too. "But if you try to interrogate him, we'll stick you with the bill."
"Would I do that?" Dean asked, the picture of offended innocence.
"In a heartbeat," she answered in a flat tone.
Colin nodded, his mouth filled with chips.
Dean glared at them both, then chuckled and started eating himself.
Hermione opened her own box. She'd check the records she had duplicated later. Hopefully, the lingerie signed for by Anthony had been sent in later for repairs or alterations - silk was finicky to work with, and most witches preferred to let tailors do any work on silken garments.
London, Ministry of Magic, September 3rd, 1999, 18.40 hours
Wand-leader Hermione knew the name of Cornelius Fudge's mistress: Marissa Micklebrock. She remembered the pureblood witch from Hogwarts. Two years her senior, very pretty, very vain, very dumb. No wonder the witch hadn't achieved anything better than becoming the paid woman of an older wizard. Finding out where Micklebrock lived had been child's play - she had bought a new house with new wards recently, no doubt paid for by her lover, and therefore she was in a few registers.
Now she needed to find a way to get hair from the witch. And an opportunity to meet Fudge while the witch was unable to interfere. That wouldn't be that easy, but she didn't think it would be too hard either. The weak link in any defense was the human element, as she had learned. Laziness, carelessness, and arrogance made people neglect their security measures, and Micklebrock had all of that in spades.
She checked her watch. 18.45 hours. It was time to go. Luna said they'd have dinner at 19.00. The witch left the office and made her way to the Ministry's atrium. There she spotted Draco Malfoy standing around near the Floo Network connections, with Sally-Anne behind him on protection detail. The Wand's face looked like a mask; she was showing no expression at all. Hermione pursed her lips. Maybe she shouldn't take the Floo from here.
She walked towards the Apparition point instead, as if she was on a mission. People got out of her way, as expected, and no one called out to her before she apparated away.
Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, United Kingdom, September 4th, 1999, 09.20 hours
Ron Weasley stared at the field across the pond. The empty field, where once a cozy little house had stood. He didn't remember the Burrow himself; he had been too little when his family had left Britain. But he had seen pictures, and heard stories. To see it now, gone…
"That's where the Weasley's house stood," a cheery voice sounded behind him.
He turned around, berating himself mentally for letting anyone sneak up on him, even if it was just Luna. "Ah," he said eloquently.
The blonde nodded. "If you look at it just the right way, you can see the outlines still, or so daddy says. I've never managed yet. I'd like to, to be able to paint it. You can't paint what you haven't seen, not really."
Ron didn't know what to say to that, so he just nodded.
The witch cocked her head to the side and looked at him. "You look sad. What's wrong?"
He was startled, then answered, truthfully: "I was thinking of my home. I left it."
"Oh." Luna stuck her tongue out in the corner of her mouth for a bit, apparently thinking. "Well, if you're some long-lost relative of the Weasleys, as daddy thinks you are, then you're at home here, kind of. You could dye your hair and see if you can claim the place."
He looked at her, not certain what to say to that. This was getting surreal. If he told this to Harry he'd laugh loudly. If he told this to his family… he didn't know how they'd react. Apart from Percy. He'd scold Ron for endangering his cover.
"She'd love it, you know, if you stayed here. Hermione," Luna added, almost shyly.
"Oh?"
"Yes. You're her first love, you know." His face must have shown some of the guilt he felt at hearing that, since the blonde witch continued: "It's not your fault, you know. Wands are a bit weird when it comes to that, and British Purebloods are stupid when it comes to Wands."
He nodded. He knew that already. All the good purebloods had left with Dumbledore. Apart from Luna and her father.
"What did they do?" He didn't want to ask Luna, it felt like betraying Hermione, but he wanted to know. She was a strong witch, but sometimes, she looked vulnerable, or wounded.
"They?" Luna looked at him with wide, silvery eyes, seemingly confused.
"The purebloods," he explained.
"Oh, them." Luna sighed and sat down on a treestump. "They don't like the Wands. But some of them..."
"Some?" Ron asked, waiting.
Luna hunched her shoulders and hugged her knees. "Draco. Draco Malfoy."
"The son of the Minister?" Ron knew about that family. Dumbledore and Sirius had been quite thorough in their briefing. And his father had known Lucius at school.
Luna nodded. "He was in her year, and he likes to sleep with Wands." She sighed. "It makes him feel better, I think, about being weaker than them."
That hadn't been in the briefing. He didn't like where that was going.
"What did he do?"
"It's more like what he doesn't do."
Ron clenched his fist. He had heard stories about what evil things Death Eaters had done. Death Eaters like Malfoy...
"He doesn't care about them." Luna looked angry. "He just sleeps with them." She looked at him. "And they sleep with him, because he's the Minister's son."
Ron blinked. "That doesn't sound like something Hermione would do." She wasn't the kind of girl who'd sleep with a man just because he was powerful, or the son of someone powerful!
"I told her not to! But she doesn't listen. 'Wands obey', she says!" Luna spat out. "Even though I'm certain the Minister doesn't expect that kind of obedience."
Ron blinked again.
"But that was before she met you. I'm certain she'll tell him off next time!" Luna smiled. "She loves you, you know. And she wants you to stay in Britain."
He nodded. He didn't know what to say. He didn't even know what to think. But if he ever met Draco Malfoy… Well, that git was an enemy, wasn't he? Ron might be a liar and a spy, exploiting a girl's trust and love to fight against the government she fought for, but he would at least ensure that she'd not suffer that git anymore.
Diagon Alley, London, September 4th, 1999, 14.31 hours
Marissa Micklebrock looked like Hermione had expected: Long tresses that reached the small of her back, color-charmed from her natural brown hair to match the hue of Narcissa Malfoy's hair. A flashy robe that was far more fashionable than practical, forcing her to take very small steps. And the vapid expression she already knew. The Wand-Leader felt slightly ill just thinking that she'd have to act like that to fool Fudge. It would be hard.
The witch she was observing was on her way to 'Contessa's Coffeehouse', a bar catering to rich pureblood witches. Or, as Hermione thought, to the wives and mistresses of the nouveaux-rich. It featured overpriced,fancy food and beverages and the gossip du jour, all served in the full view of all passersby in Diagon Alley. You'd not spot a witch from an old family, like Mrs Malfoy or Mrs Greengrass, there. They had been taught better.
Hermione herself was wearing a black wig, frumpy robes, and carrying an oversized basket - the picture of a struggling half-blood witch on her way to buy groceries in the cheaper shops down the alley. She pretended to stumble right when Micklebrock crossed her path, and flailed her arms, 'accidentally' grabbing the witch's hair before letting herself fall to the ground. The Wand yelped when she hit the cobblestones - this investigation was turning out to be rather painful.
Not just for her, either.
"Ah! My hair!"
The other witch yelled, holding her head while Hermione pocketed the strand she had liberated.
"I'm sorry, I slipped," she stammered, getting up and summoning her basket.
"Sorry? You almost ripped my hair out!"
Hermione held her basket up, as if to keep the enraged witch at bay. If needed, she could simply throw it at her and flee. Not that she thought Micklebrock would manage to cast a serious hex, much less a curse.
Everyone in the café was staring at them, or rather, at the screeching Micklebrock. When the witch finally realised this, she shut up quicker than a Knockturn Alley resident when faced with a patrol, and Hermione used the opportunity to slip away into the next side alley. There she transfigured her robes into the brown robes worn by Wands, and restored her hair color before apparating away.
Part one of her plan was completed.
Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, United Kingdom, September 4th, 1999, 19.35 hours
Ron Weasley stared at the Voracious Mole, as Luna called the monstrous animal, digging through the soil underneath the Rook. He had never heard about that animal in his lessons at Beauxbatons.
"I shouldn't be watching this. I shouldn't even know about this!" Hermione sighed next to him.
"Well, technically, it could be an enlarged muggle vole," Luna said, beaming at the animal.
"Enlarged how many times?" Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Hm… " Luna mused, the tip of her tongue sticking out. "It's about the size of an average Headmaster. So… how much does a vole weigh?"
"It was a rhetorical question, Luna."
"Oh."
"Not that I mind your presence, quite the contrary," Ron said, before Hermione could once again lament her complicity with 'another breach of the prohibition on imports of exotic magical creatures', "but if you're here, how can we alert the Ministry, should anything happen?"
"I've left a mirror with Dean," Hermione answered him.
Ron nodded. Both witches seemed to trust the Wand. He'd still feel better once the tunnel was finished. And the animal gone back to wherever the Lovegoods kept it. Voles shouldn't have such large fangs and claws, he thought. Especially not voles weighing about 250 pounds that received steaks as treats.
"So, will you be working as a bodyguard in Britain?" Luna asked suddenly. "We can give you good references, of course!"
"I think he'd make a good Auror," Hermione said, before Ron could answer. "He'd have more regular hours too, that way," she added with a saucy grin.
"Ah! I didn't think about that. But will they accept him as an Auror, after he has beaten Draco in a duel for your hand?"
"What?" Ron blurted out, together with Hermione.
"Well, how else would Draco understand that things have changed? It's not as if you'd ever curse him, Hermione!" Luna pouted.
"Luna! No one will be cursing or duelling the son of the Minister!"
"So, you will talk to the Minister about your relationship?" The blonde witch beamed at her.
"Err…"
Before Ron could say anything, a gong sounded upstairs.
"That's an alert. Someone's attacking the wards!" Luna said, her eyes wide with fear.
"Keep digging, Voley!" Luna yelled while the three ran back through the tunnel to the cellar. Ron was in the lead, but Hermione was close behind him.
"Dean!" The witch called out.
Ron glanced back over his shoulder and saw that she had pulled out her mirror while running. He couldn't hear any response though. Since Hermione didn't keep shouting, he hoped that it was just the sound of his, then their, footsteps on the stairs drowning out the response.
He reached the ground floor and saw Mister Lovegood at the window, wand aimed outside. The wizard looked more focused than Ron had ever seen him. "Fanatics. The same that attacked Luna."
"Dean! The wards at Luna's are under attack. We need help!" Hermione yelled.
Luna arrived behind her and stopped, and for a moment, no one moved. The gong had stopped, and Ron could hear the Wand's response clearly: "We've got multiple alerts of attacks. We're deploying all over Britain, but we can't move the main force until we've spotted the half-naga, orders from the Minister."
No one said anything. Then Luna spoke up: "I knew it was a half-naga, and the Ministry agrees!"
Before anyone else could say anything, the entire building shook from an explosion. Dust fell down from the ceiling, and a few trinkets dropped to the floor, but the building's walls held. So far.
"They've breached the wards," Mister Lovegood said, unnecessarily. "But the Erumpent-proofing is working!"
"We need to know if that half-naga or Bellatrix Lestrange are here!" Hermione yelled, rushing to the window not yet covered by Mister Lovegood. Ron followed her, taking out his binoculars from his pocket while Luna cast a spell at the door.
Another explosion shook the building, and he saw a few stones hit the ground outside. The sun had just set, but there was still light outside… flickering though… Merlin!
"They've set fire to the roof!" Hermione exclaimed.
"Luna! Release the animals so they can escape!" Mister Lovegood yelled.
"Yes, father!" the blonde witch yelled, running to the back of the house.
"What animals?" Ron heard Hermione mutter while he searched the treeline, from where colorful spells were flying at the building. Another explosion followed, and he heard things break above them. Then he saw a pale, inhuman face between the trees. "He's here! The half-naga is here!"
"Where?" The Wand-Leader asked, watching through Omnioculars.
"Middle of the sector, near the birch."
"I see him. Dean, confirmed sighting of the half-naga! No sign of Bellatrix Lestrange!"
"We've just deployed the main force to the Greengrass mansion, where Lestrange was…"
Whatever else the Wand was saying was interrupted when the entire house seemed to erupt. Ron cast a Shield Charm right when the ceiling started to collapse, and the blue force field protected him from the flaming debris.
"Luna!" Hermione shouted, shielded by her own spell. "Luna!"
"Ow!" The witch stumbled back from the rear of the house - which fortunately had not collapsed. "Daddy!"
Ron saw that Mister Lovegood had been trapped under the remains of a beam. He aimed his wand at it.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
The beam floated away, and Luna levitated her father to the centre of the house, frantically trying to treat his wounds.
"Confringo! Bombarda! Reducto!"
Hermione was frantically sending spells through the ruins of the windows.
"They are advancing! We need to move!"
Ron cast a few spells of his own, then had to stop when the Wand-Leader transfigured the debris into walls to gain them a bit more time. He took a deep breath. "They'll have us surrounded. I'll charge out the front, you take them out the back!" He'd take as many of them with him as he could. And he'd die near his family's ancestral lands.
"No! They'll have us surrounded. And Luna won't leave her father," Hermione responded.
"Come, down to the cellar!" Luna shouted.
Ron exchanged a glance with Hermione, then the two ran towards Luna while fire licked at the stairs from above - Fiendfyre! - and the walls Hermione had erected exploded, stone fragments shooting through the ruined living room. Just as they reached the stairs leading down to the cellar, Ron heard a thundering roar from above, and screams.
"Siegfried! No! I said you should flee!" Luna yelled while Hermione dragged her downstairs, followed by Ron, who managed to pull the door closed before the rest of the ceiling collapsed on them.
Ron fell down the stairs more than he jumped, but he managed to land on the ground without breaking anything.
"Bubblehead Charms!" Hermione yelled, casting already. "We'll suffocate otherwise!"
Ron followed her example. Luna cast one on her father, who was groaning and therefore alive, and then on herself. Hermione filled the stairs with conjured stone. "That won't hold them off for too long."
"The debris topside and the fire might keep them away though," Ron said, looking around. The tunnel didn't seem to have collapsed.
"Let's move into the tunnel! If the house collapses on us, we'll still survive there!" Hermione levitated Mister Lovegood as they stepped into the opening. The earth shook again, and the ceiling started to creak. Ron and Luna hurried after the Wand-Leader.
Once inside the tunnel, they closed up the entrance and reinforced the ceiling with spells. Ron didn't know how well it would hold up, but it looked sturdy.
"The Wands will be here soon. Dean got my message. It'll take time to mass enough Wands though," Hermione said. "They'll escape."
"As long as we survive," Ron said.
The Voracious Mole was still digging ahead of them. Luna was treating a few cuts on Mister Lovegood's face. A minute passed. Then another.
"I lost the mirror when the house collapsed," Hermione said, looking angry with herself. "Sloppy of me."
"We're still alive," Ron tried to console her.
"And Voley will have us out in no time! No longer than a few hours!"
"The Wands will arrive much sooner than that." Hermione looked to the ceiling. "Once we can apparate inside here, we'll know the battle is over."
She took it for granted, Ron thought, that the Wands would win. If only he could tell her that they were not facing a half-naga, if that even existed, but the Dark Lord, returned from death!
He sat down on the ground, sighing.
"Poor Siegfried! I told him to fly away!" Luna said.
"Who or what is Siegfried?" Ron asked.
"A Thunderbird."
Hermione looked at Luna. "I didn't hear that."
"He's a Thunderbird!" Luna repeated, louder.
When the muggleborn witch slapped her forehead, Ron had to laugh. After a second, the two witches joined him.
Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, United Kingdom, September 4th, 1999, 22.12 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione winced, staring at the ruins of the Rook, or the Rookery, as Luna often called it. The building had collapsed, probably burying the basement even, and Fiendfyre had destroyed the remains. She felt guilty, knowing her friend and her family had lost everything but their lives. And, she added, some of their animals. Hopefully no one would connect the Thunderbird to them.
She still didn't know how they had managed to smuggle those animals into Britain. If she was ever investigating a smuggling case that left her stumped, she'd ask. Not before though - she was already overlooking too much.
The Wands had arrived too late. She had expected that, and had known once they had apparated out. She winced at that thought. Since she had waited so long, just to be safe, to escape, Dean and Colin had thought for hours that she had died. She had apologised, of course, and they had said they'd have done the same, but Hermione felt guilty still.
Around her, Wands were still securing the area, but she felt alone. Dean was taking Antoine's statement back in London, Colin was developing his pictures, and Luna was with her father at St Mungo's.
The sound of an Apparition behind her made her and the other Wands turn around, wands raised. She lowered her wand at once though, when she recognised Luna. The witch had cleaned her robes, which had been streaked with earth and dirt and ash the last time Hermione had seen her, but she had to be in shock still.
"How's your father?"
"Daddy's fine. They're keeping him for a day or so at St Mungo's, for observation. I don't know what for, they took pictures already and he's no Metamorphmagus who can change his looks." Luna shook her head, apparently confused.
Hermione hugged her, whispering: "I'm sorry, Luna. All this…"
Luna nodded, her chin bobbing up and down on Hermione's shoulder. "Oh, yes. Rebuilding will be difficult, difficult indeed."
"I'll help as much as I can," Hermione promised. She had not much gold - Wands didn't need much gold - but she could help with spells, and maybe find out ways to build houses more efficiently…
"Great! You can help me persuade Daddy that we need a Queen, not a King!"
"What?"
"He wants to build a King. But everyone knows that the King is one of the weakest pieces. We need a Queen instead; she's the most powerful piece!"
"Huh?" Hermione was lost. Did her friend mean...
"You know, we had a Rook, now we can build a better piece! The Minister already said he'll pay for a new printing press, and the repairs, under some 'press support act', so we'll have the gold to expand!"
Hermione repressed the urge to sigh. It seems not even escaping death twice in a week was enough to change Luna.
"Also, we'll be moving in with you! The Minister said we wouldn't be safe anywhere outside the Ministry, with our home destroyed, and you're the only one we both know well enough to move in with who lives in the Ministry. We'll need to expand your room though, or Voley won't fit."
Hermione blinked. "What?"
London, Ministry of Magic, September 5th, 1999, 09.01 hours
Lucius Malfoy was happier than he appeared to be with the events of last night. True, his mudbloods had failed to defeat the Dark Lord, and multiple manors and homes had been attacked, sowing terror in the hearts of his people. But the Dark Lord had once again been prevented from accomplishing his goals, and in a way that would not cast suspicion on his spy.
And once again, one mudblood had been responsible.
"Thank you for your report, Wand-Leader." He nodded to Hermione, who was standing at attention in front of his desk. "You've been a friend of Miss Lovegood for years, which explains your presence. Mister Dupont is a friend of you both then?"
"Yes, sir."
He caught a slight blush on the girl's face, and met her eyes with his wand drawn under the table. He wasn't the best Legilimens, but the girl's mind, for all its brilliance, was an open book to him. He delved into it, and soon found what he was seeking. Mister Dupont was far more than a mere friend of the Wand-Leader. He was her lover, and the girl hoped he would become even more.
"Good work, Wand-Leader. Dismissed."
The mudblood saluted, then left his office. Lucius leaned back and considered the situation. A mudblood, in a serious relationship with a pureblood. A foreign pureblood even. That wouldn't do. If the mudbloods started to develop family ties to purebloods, then that would lead to divided loyalties. It was one thing to sleep with them, but to have children with them? To marry them?
He shook his head. He needed loyal Wands, not another group of wizards and witches with designs of their own. It would be easy to send the girl to her death, to let the Dark Lord remove this problem, but she was useful - she had proven this twice now. He'd rather not lose her until the Dark Lord was dead for good.
Fortunately, there was another solution for this problem. He'd have to talk to Draco, but he doubted his son would object. After what he had seen in the girl's memories, this should be an enjoyable task for him.
London, Ministry of Magic, September 5th, 1999, 12.15 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione's room in the barracks of the Corps had been small, but well-furnished, with lots of shelves. It had been everything a studious Wand would have wished for. It still was. Only now it did not open into the hallway, but into a living room. Two more doors there led to bedrooms, one to a bathroom, all the results of clever Extension Charms. And judging by how quickly the room was being filled with conjured furniture, she'd need another Extension Charm or three soon enough.
"Luna! You can't place that couch there!" she said, more than slightly exasperated.
"But it doesn't fit anywhere else!" her blonde friend retorted.
"That's because there are already two couches and four seats in the room," Hermione pointed out. "Luna, the couch is directly in front of the door!"
"Why, yes, it is." Luna blinked, cocked her head sideways, then turned to the Wand. "It can serve as a barricade, in case the Ministry gets breached!"
"And how do we get in and out without climbing over it each time?" Hermione told herself that Luna had just lost her home, that her father was still in St Mungo's, and that she shouldn't get angry at her friend.
"Hm… we could conjure a ramp! It would be fun!" The witch beamed at her. "Voley could dig a tunnel too!"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. Luna was quirky, but this was… she sighed, walked over and hugged her friend. "It's alright, Luna. We're all alive. We're all OK. Your father will be back soon," she said.
"But… I need to... "
The blonde witch squirmed in Hermione's grasp, but the Wand didn't let her go. Luna relented then, and hugged her back.
"So many of our belongings were lost. So many souvenirs, and artifacts. Daddy said we shouldn't cling to material goods, but almost all that we had left of Mum…" she started to sob.
Hermione held her for a long time.
Hogsmeade, Britain, September 5th, 1999, 22.30 hours
Ron Weasley kept checking his surroundings as he made his way to what locals apparently claimed was Britain's most haunted shack - the Shrieking Shack. His friend Harry did the same next to him. Sirius Black though, up front, acted as if he was just taking a stroll in the evening, and Dumbledore, behind them... well, if anything could worry the professor to the point of showing it, then Ron didn't want to ever encounter it.
They were coming through the woods, hidden from the village. There shouldn't be any guards or patrols around, but you could never be certain - sometimes people made mistakes, or acted on a whim. As a Gendarme on a raid, Ron had once stumbled upon a pair of guards who had left their posts for a tryst in an alcove. Weeks of surveillance, of mapping patrol routes, all undone because of love, as Lieutenant Dubois, his superior, had remarked. At least no one had died back then, though several Gendarmes had been cursed.
"Ah… this brings back memories!" Sirius declared as they entered the shack. "Back when we… " the older wizard fell silent. Ron looked at Harry.
His friend winced, then mouthed: "My parents, and Remus."
Ron nodded. He knew about the Marauders, Sirius had let slip a lot when he had been discussing pranks with the twins a few years ago, even if he didn't like to talk about his dead friends.
"Let us proceed. The entrance to the tunnel is hidden, so anyone inspecting the building will not find anything amiss," Dumbledore said.
And so the four entered the tunnel leading to Hogwarts. Or rather, to the Whomping Willow. Ron licked his lips. They were sneaking into one of the best-guarded castles of the Wizarding World, to deal with one of the worst things the Dark Arts had ever produced. If not for Dumbledore's presence, he'd rather be facing the Dark Lord again. The telltale buzzing sound of a modified Silencing Spell interrupted his thoughts and he looked to his side to see his friend stashing his wand.
"Are you afraid your girlfriend will find out?" Harry asked, with a slight grin. "You look worried."
Ron rolled his eyes in annoyance, even though the banter took his mind off the danger ahead. "I told her I was meeting with a potential employer who wanted to remain discreet."
"A meeting that late? Didn't you say she was in the Geheimpolizei?"
Ron sighed. "She's in the Investigative Branch." Which was not that different from Grindelwald's counter-espionage forces, he had to admit that. But Hermione didn't know about Malfoy's lies. Didn't know she was being deceived. Both by the Minister and by himself, his guilty conscience added.
"Ginny would assume the worst, and she's not an Auror," Harry said.
Ron scoffed. "The Aurors in Britain are a joke. But I hinted that I was meeting one of my contacts from home."
"So, instead of worrying what exactly you're doing, if you might be meeting a lover, she'll be worrying you're going to leave for Québec? That's kind of… cold, mec."
"I know that," Ron spat out. "But what else can I do? Tell her I'm working to topple her idol?"
"Technically, we're working to destroy the Dark Lord right now," Harry pointed out. "She certainly would have no problems with that."
"No. She just would want to help. But we're currently sneaking into Hogwarts, which is run by Malfoy's cronies, and she might have a slight problem with that," Ron pointed out.
"You know, you can't keep stringing her along. Sooner or later she'll find out. Sooner rather than later, if she's as smart as you claim."
"I know. And she is," Ron said.
"And she hasn't seen through your cover yet?" Harry said, sounding rather sceptical.
"Not everyone is a lousy liar," Ron shot back.
"That's not exactly something to be proud of, is it?"
Ron groaned. He had walked right into this one. Just as he was about to think of a comeback involving Ginny and his friend's futile attempt to keep a secret from Ron's sister, Sirius interrupted them. "We're about to exit the tunnel, so stop that noise!"
Chastised, both fell silent. A minute later, they were under the roots of the Whomping Willow. Ron had seen several of those trees in Ottery St Catchpole, and disillusioned or not, he certainly hoped that Sirius's claim of being able to stop the plant-monster from lashing out was true.
Turned out it was. A short sprint later, the four intruders were inside the castle. If not for the tracking spells the professor had cast, Ron would have lost the rest of the group already.
"I can feel the target. It's above us," Harry explained. "Follow me."
It took them almost an hour to track down the Horcrux - to an empty wall near a painting of dancing trolls.
"It's behind that wall," Harry said.
"That's an outer wall, Harry. There's nothing but air behind it," Sirius said.
"It's still there, Sirius. Maybe inside the wall," Ron's friend insisted.
"There's a very powerful enchantment on this wall," Dumbledore cut in.
Ron wasn't taking part in the argument. Someone had to keep an eye out. Or an ear. And he heard… "Silence. I hear footsteps!" he hissed. Dumbledore had cast spells to hide their voices, but he couldn't hear the patrol or whoever it was while the rest of his group discussed their course of action in the middle of a bastion of the enemy.
The group shut up, and for a minute Ron heard nothing but his own breathing and footsteps, slow ones, coming closer and closer.
Then a man turned around the corner, a corpulent wizard, in expensive robes. He held his wand in one hand, and a piece of parchment in the other. Ron recognized him. Horace Slughorn, the Headmaster of the school.
"Good evening, Albus," the wizard said. "Quite impolite of you, to sneak into the school without telling anyone."
Hogwarts, Britain, September 5th, 1999, 23.50 hours
Albus Dumbledore ended his Disillusionment Charm and nodded at his successor as Hogwarts' Headmaster. "Good evening, Horace. I did not want to disturb you for the mere retrieval of a trinket that someone lost in the school before your time."
He was rather certain that Horace didn't want to harm them - the other wizard would never have come in person if that had been the case. How he had found them though was another question. Horace was an excellent potioneer, and a born networker, but he wasn't even half the wizard Albus was. Someone had to have tampered with the castle's wards, and to do that required brilliance Horace lacked.
Horace scoffed. "I don't believe the great Albus Dumbledore would return from his French exile for a mere trinket. Not with the Dark Lord returned from his grave."
"He's got the Marauder's Map!" Sirius exclaimed.
Horace looked startled for a second, and glanced at the parchment in his hand. That was how he had found them then.
"The Marauder's Map?" Albus asked Sirius.
"A map my friends and I created when we were students. It shows the school, and everyone inside. I thought it lost in our 7th year, but apparently, it survived. I completely forgot about it!"
Albus hid his annoyance at that oversight. They could have walked into a trap if someone other than Horace had had the map. "I see. Ingenious indeed. Horace was always one to profit from the achievements of others."
"Spare me your sanctimonious talk, Albus!" the Headmaster spat. He was touchier than Albus remembered - life under Lucius might not agree with him as much as he had expected. "You're here for something very important, and judging by the fact you've been standing in front of that wall for minutes like some lost first years, you need my help to achieve it."
"And since you are here, alone, you are in need of help as well," Albus answered. "You do not trust Lucius to defeat the Dark Lord, do you? And you fear what Tom will do to you, once he wins."
The other wizard winced, and Albus smiled.
"We could simply take all we need from him," Harry said, still disillusioned.
"Horace is not the most courageous wizard, but he is a true Slytherin. He will have taken precautions against such rudeness," Albus pointed out before the more impatient members of his group could act rashly.
The potioneer smiled. He never could resist compliments entirely, Albus knew that well. And he wasn't quite as clever as he thought he was.
"But unless you want Tom to win this war, it is in your best interest to help us here, Horace," he said with a smile. "After all, Lucius already knows about the secret to the Dark Lord's immortality, does he not? And there is only one he could have learned it from."
Horace paled, then glanced at the wall. "Is that why you are here?"
Albus nodded. "Help us, and we will be out of the school in no time. No one will know about this." No one but them, of course. Horace knew as well as Albus did that once he helped them here, he'd have to help them later as well. He couldn't betray them to Lucius, not as long as he believed the Minister would lose this war.
Horace waited for a moment, then took a deep breath. "This is the entrance to the Room of Requirement. Think of what you need while you walk past it three times, and a door will appear."
"Thank you, Horace. Your courageous help will be remembered, you have my word."
The potioneer smiled thinly, nodded, and then turned to leave. He had not quite reached the corner when a door appeared in the wall. Young Harry had been quite eager to finish their task, it seemed. Not that Albus could fault him.
Outside Maidenhead, Berkshire, Britain, September 6th, 1999, 20.15 hours
"That's a really nice body you have, dear, but those clothes are too cheap. You need more classy ones."
Wand-Leader Hermione posed in front of the mirror, ignoring the commentary. She had a nice body, even though it wasn't her own. Marissa Micklebrock wasn't the brightest witch, nor the most skilled, and certainly not the richest or most well-connected, but she had a very nice figure and a very pretty face. Hermione would have been a bit jealous, if not for Antoine. Her lover certainly was far above Fudge!
She checked the clock on the wall in the witch's living room. The Polyjuice would still be effective for another half an hour. And the real Micklebrock was still sleeping in the cupboard, and wouldn't wake up until she was given the antidote for the potion Hermione had made her drink.
The silly witch had been far too trusting when 'Cho Chang' had wanted to talk to her. Hermione had almost felt guilty at how eager Micklebrock had been to chat. Just almost, though - she was on a mission, an important one that could shake the entire Ministry. Would shake the entire Ministry, once the Minister heard about what had been going on for close to two decades!
She took another look at the mirror, over her shoulder. The lingerie she was wearing wasn't quite as daring as the muggle ones she had worn for Antoine. It should still be more than enough, coupled with Micklebrock's slightly fuller figure, to keep Fudge's attention on her body, and help him miss any slips she might make in her impersonation act.
She pursed her lips. Thinking of that traitor, and what he had ordered done to her parents, made her skin crawl. Fortunately, she wouldn't have to act friendly for very long, just long enough to be certain there were no guards observing them.
A voice from the fireplace interrupted her thoughts.
"Darling? It's me!"
She straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath.
"Come through, I'm alone!"
It was time to expose the leader of this conspiracy.