Chapter 9

Hermione stood across the street from the entrance to the Ministry of Magic. After a month of observation, the three of them had decided that their safest route to take would be Polyjuice Potion. They would disguise themselves as three Ministry employees and make their way into the Ministry. From there they would try to get to Umbridge's office, where they would hopefully find the locket stowed away somewhere inside. Of course, once they got inside it would take a whole heap of good luck to get them through, but Hermione was trying extremely hard to not think about that part.

The three of them had drunk the Polyjuice Potion that Hermione had begun brewing as soon as they had arrived at Grimmauld Place, planning to have it on hand for Harry as a precaution. Hermione had arrived at the conclusion that she would be happy if she hadn't had to drink another sip of the foul concoction for the rest of her life, although she'd had a sinking suspicion that she wouldn't end up being so lucky.

And she had been right. She was currently in the guise of Mafalda Hopkirk from the Improper Use of Magic Office, a short, slight witch with wispy grey hair and spectacles. Ron was on her left, looking to be the very average-looking Reginald Cattermole from the Magical Maintenance Department, his normally bright red hair now duller in color and beginning to turn grey. Harry was very intimidating as Albert Runcorn, a strongly built, dark haired and bearded wizard who towered over herself as Mafalda and was several inches taller than Reginald. Hermione had remembered reading in the Daily Prophet that he was a member of Umbridge's Muggle-Born Registration Committee, as well. She hoped that fact might end up working to their advantage, should they need to press it.

They had arrived at dawn that morning, much earlier than the majority of the Ministry employees would begin arriving, and had begun to prepare. Thus far, everything had gone off without a hitch. Now, however, would come the first dangerous part of their plan; they were going to have to split up. The entrance to the Ministry was concealed in an Underground public toilet, which Hermione found to be quite revolting. It also meant that Hermione would have to go in on her side alone.

Hermione looked at the boys and nodded at them once to reassure them, as well as herself, that all would be fine. She then headed off to the entrance of the women's loo. Before she walked inside, she saw Harry and Ron, or rather Albert and Reginald, head to the men's, and she pulled in one final, deep breath of the crisp morning air. Taking her place in the queue, she waited amongst the other women, listening and watching so that she would know exactly what she needed to do when her time came.

She stepped into the small, surprisingly clean cubicle and came to the disgusting realization that she was supposed to flush herself in via the toilet. Wrinkling her nose, she stepped up into the toilet bowl, pleasantly surprised to find that the water inside of the bowl did not touch her shoes. She allowed a small smile to grace her lips: she loved magic! Reaching out, she tugged on the lever, flushing the toilet and herself with it. After the highly unpleasant sensation of swirling downward had ceased, Hermione looked around and realized that she had landed in the large, open atrium of the Ministry of Magic. She was in.

As she waited for Harry and Ron to arrive, something caught her eye. Making her way over to the large statue in the middle of the atrium, she started up at it in horror. Where the Fountain of Magical Brethren had once stood, there was now a huge monstrosity made of black stone. It showed a witch and a wizard seated on intricately carved thrones. Engraved around the base of the statue was the phrase "MAGIC IS MIGHT."

What held her in a state of horrified raptness, however, was the thrones themselves – they were made of the bodies of humans: Muggle-borns, if she had to guess. They had been stripped of all clothing and dignity and were crushed together, supporting the substantial weight of the more 'superior' beings above them. Hermione felt the bile crawling up in her throat and had to force herself not to retch at the revolting sight in front of her.

"Magic is Might," came a deep-voiced murmur from her right.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the sight of the tall, dark-haired wizard that stood beside her before realizing that it was Harry in his disguise as Runcorn. Cattermole, or rather Ron, had also appeared and was standing to her left, staring at the statue with a look of barely concealed disgust on his face. The three stood in silence for a moment, contemplating the horror that had become the British wizarding world under Voldemort's control.

This, Hermione thought sadly as she looked at the faces of the muggles crushed beneath the literal heel of the wizard and witch, is exactly why we cannot fail today.

"Okay," she said quietly, looking around to make sure that they would not be overheard. "We need to stick together so we can get out of here as quickly as possible, and we need to make our way straight to Umbridge's office to check there first."

Harry and Ron nodded, and the odd trio made their way to the dock of elevators. However, their plan to stick together only lasted for about a minute as Yaxley forced himself into their elevator. After a not-so-thinly veiled threat toward Cattermole's wife regarding the trial of her blood status that was taking place that day, should Cattermole not solve the little problem in his office, the other man exited the elevator.

"Try Finite Incantatem," Hermione whispered as Ron dashed off to the Death Eater's office in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to try to stop the rain, leaving Hermione and Harry alone in the elevator, but not for long.

"Ah, Mafalda, Travers sent you? Good."

Hermione felt her blood curdle at the sickly-sweet voice that filled the small elevator cage. In walked Delores Umbridge, dressed in pink robes with her ever-present, frilly pink cardigan and that infernal black velvet bow perched in her mousy hair. The dumpy woman clutched several files filled with sheafs of papers to her ample bosom.

"I need you to record the notes from the Muggle-born trials today down in the courtrooms. Shall we head there now?"

Hermione just stared at Umbridge, at a complete loss for words. She could see the locket resting against the older witch's robes. Umbridge wore it with pride and didn't seem to be at all affected by the evil that imbued the locket. Hermione did not find that to be all that difficult to believe. After all, the woman that stood before her was nastier than the business end of a Blast-Ended Skrewt.

"Runcorn?" Umbridge said suddenly, noticing that Harry had yet to move. "Weren't you getting off here?"

Hermione watched Harry anxiously as he exited the elevator, dreading with all her heart the thought of being left alone with this woman whom she loathed more than words could ever express. The doors closed, blocking her last glimpse of Harry in his 'borrowed' body, and then it was just her and Umbridge.

The woman prattled on and on about the trials they would hear that day. The glee that filled her voice as she spoke about "uncovering their deception" and "rooting out the thieves" made Hermione's fingers itch to grasp her wand and hex the witch into the next century; it was all she could do to keep her wand inside of the holster that she had strapped to her forearm beneath the sleeves of her borrowed robes and the false smile plastered on her face.

They arrived in the trial courtroom and took their seats, Umbridge in the head Inquisitor's chair and Hermione in the seat that was located below and to the right. There were several Aurors standing guard around the chamber and a very uncomfortable-looking chair in the very center of the room with chains hanging limply against the stone floor.

"Wherever did you get that lovely necklace, Dolores?" Hermione asked as they waited in what she hoped was an appropriately simpering voice.

"Oh, isn't it marvelous?" she exclaimed proudly. "It is a Selwyn family heirloom," she added as she motioned with one pudgy little finger to the large, serpentine S that adorned the face of the locket.

Before Hermione could respond, the doors opened, and two men hauled in a frightened looking third man. When they sat him in the chair that waited in the middle of the room, the chains clinked threateningly as if wanting to wind their way up his arms and legs to secure him to the chair, but then fell limply back to the floor. Then Hermione felt a biting chill creep slowly over her. She looked up to see at least ten Dementors enter the room from above their heads, circling down…down…down towards where Hermione and the others were all located below.

"Expecto Patronum," Umbridge chirped cheerfully, and a Persian cat burst from the tip of her short, stubby wand. Hermione was disgusted that someone as vile and wicked as Umbridge could be capable of producing something as pure and good as a Patronus Charm, but at the moment she was grateful as she watched the Dementors circling greedily above her head but held at bay for the moment by the cat that had perched itself on the edge of Umbridge's desk.

She absentmindedly took notes as the trial progressed, and the wizard named Alderton was convicted of being a Muggle-born and of 'stealing' his magic. She watched sadly as he was dragged away, his protests filling up the room as he was hauled away to Azkaban for his 'crimes.'

She watched as the next person was brought in and was shocked to discover that the woman now seated in front of her and looking to be terrified out of her mind was Mary Cattermole, wife of Reginald Cattermole: the very same man that Ron was somewhere in the Ministry impersonating. She felt a pang of remorse, knowing that the man they had sent to St Mungo's after dosing him with one of Fred and George's Skiving Snackboxes had been on his way to his wife's hearing. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done about it now.

As they sat in the dreary courtroom, a new presence entered. Umbridge was not bothered by the new wizard's appearance, but it took Hermione a moment to place the face. It was Harry, but in his disguise as Runcorn, it made perfect sense for him to be there. And not a moment later, Ron entered the room, as well.

Mary Cattermole let out a weak sigh of relief at the arrival of her 'husband', and Ron walked over to her side at her prompting, placing one hand on her shoulder in an awkward gesture of comfort. Hermione could hear Umbridge continuing to speak to her left but her attention was focused solely on Harry, who was slowly walking around the edge of the room. She watched as his wand slipped into his hand.

"Stupefy!"

A flash of red light erupted from the end of Harry's holly wand. As Umbridge crumpled and her head fell to the surface of the desk in front of her, the Persian cat that had been perched on the edge of the balustrade flickered once…twice…then disappeared. A frigid cold flooded the courtroom. Hermione reached out and yanked the necklace from Umbridge's neck, replacing it with the copy that they had made ahead of time so that the horrid woman, and more importantly Voldemort, would not realize it was missing. Then she darted down from her seat, making her way down the stairs and to the floor of the chamber where Harry, Ron, and Mary Cattermole stood clustered together, and then the four of them dashed out of the chamber.

"Go!" she shouted at the other Muggle-borns who were outside of the courtroom waiting for their own trials to begin. "Run, get your families and get out of the country if you can!"

With frightened looks at the woman who was shouting at them, all of the Muggle-borns dashed off to the elevators that stood at the opposite end of the long hallway.

Making their way to the Atrium, the trio raced to the exits, trying to get out before they became trapped inside. The Floo was in sight and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She watched Harry Disapparate, followed by Ron. Just as she was twisting on her heel to follow the boys back to Grimmauld Place, she saw Yaxley from the corner of her eye and felt him grab hold of her arm in a vice-like grip. Panic gripped her heart and she struggled to throw off his hold as the two of them were squeezed through the tight tube of Apparition together. Just as she was finally able to successfully aim a jinx at him that forced him to release her, however, they landed with a hard thud in the entryway of Grimmauld Place.

It only took Hermione a fraction of a second to realize that their hiding place had been irreparably compromised. Anyone on the Dark Lord's side would now be able to breech the protections that surrounded Grimmauld Place; it was no longer safe for them there. In the breadth of a heartbeat she had analyzed the situation, come to her decision, grabbed hold of each boy's arm, and Apparated them away again. They couldn't stay here, so she would take them somewhere else: simple as that.

The moment they landed in the densely wooded forest, however, she knew something had gone terribly wrong. Ron was lying on the ground, moaning in pain. When she pulled Reginald's robes, now torn at the seams from where the Polyjuice Potion had worn off and Ron had returned to his own larger frame, away from his body, she could see that a large chunk of his upper arm was shredded, chunks of the skin missing. He had been splinched. Her heart plummeted into her stomach before she sprang back into action.

"Harry!" she shouted, pulling Mafalda's outer robes from her body and using them to staunch the blood that poured profusely from the ragged wound.

Harry raced over to them, dropping to his knees on Ron's other side, and she heard his sharp intake of breath at the sight of Ron's mangled arm.

"Get the Essence of Dittany from my bag," she said frantically, motioning to the beaded back that she had dropped to the ground. Waiting for the Dittany and watching as more and more of Ron's blood drained out of his body and onto the leaves that littered the ground beneath his body, she quickly grew impatient.

"HARRY!" she screamed.

Harry dropped back down beside her after only a moment more, thrusting the small vial of brownish liquid into her blood-soaked hands. She yanked the stopper from the bottle with her teeth and dropped a carefully measured amount onto the lacerations that covered his entire upper left arm. She and Harry watched as the wound immediately started to heal itself, leaving painfully raw pink flesh where the gaping wound had been just seconds before.

Splotches of vivid red stained her hands, but she ignored both the sight and the metallic scent that permeated the air around them, both courtesy of the alarming amount of blood that Ron had lost. She was confident now that his wounds would heal, but she had used as much of the Dittany as she could afford to spare, considering just how little she had to begin with. Next, she grabbed a Blood-Replenishing Potion from her bag and poured the entire contents of that vial into Ron's mouth. Sitting beside him for a moment, she watched him as his breathing finally began to even out and grow steadier.

Rising to her feet, she began to walk a perimeter around where he lay on the ground, setting up all of the protective charms and enchantments that she had researched while at home on the off chance that they ended up out int the open like this. She was grateful that she had. Next, she pulled out the tent that they had stayed in back in fourth year during the Quidditch World Cup. She had nicked it from Arthur Weasley's shed while they had been at the Burrow. She lay it out on the ground and pointed her wand at the heap of cloth.

"Erecto."

It swiftly assembled itself into the small tent that she remembered so well from what felt like a lifetime ago.

"Harry," she said, making her way back over to where Ron was now sleeping peacefully on the cold ground. "Can you help me get him into the tent? I can levitate him there, but I might need help guiding him along."

The two of them carefully maneuvered Ron into the tent and got him situated on the bottom bunk of one of the sets of bunk beds that lined the walls of the magically enlarged tent. Finally, now that everything was secured and she felt settled in the knowledge that, at least for the moment, they would be safe, she allowed herself to collapse onto the bottom bed of another bunk on the other side of the room and leaving Harry to take either the top of her bunk or Ron's whichever he preferred. Utterly exhausted from the ordeal that the day had brought upon them all, she immediately fell into a deep sleep; the first dreamless sleep she'd had in nearly two months.

Song Inspiration: Empty Gold - Halsey

As the entirety of the Ministry infiltration scene is told from Harry's perspective in DH, I thought it would be interesting to see what happened from Hermione's point of view.

Hopefully you all enjoy!

sbz