Sanity is madness put to good uses. ~George Santayana

I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. ~William Shakespeare

If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality. ~Bishop Desmond Tutu

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Harry soon realised Emmanuel was far worse than Hermione blonde man looked at him intently, before nodding slowly, as if some sort of test had passed. Harry called his anger into stillness and tried not to fidget as he was lead into an apparently 'regular' whole team meeting, while Emmanual ostensibly briefed the department.

Hermione Granger was reported missing, her last known associate is a Miss Luna Lovegood. The officers exchanged glances to Harry as they listened to Luna's history during the war, and her inherited magazine which had drawn a deal of political attention in the lead up to Voldemort's reign. Emmanuel called 7 apparently senior wizards into his office, and as he reached the end of the list, his voice grew audibly bitter underneath a false charm.

"Oh yes, that's right, everyone meet our newest intern, Harry Potter. Now folks try not to get too excited, it's a trial "experience program" as part of the auror training program, treat Mr Potter here as you would any other intern. And remember gentlemen, ladies, that there are always eyes on this department, so I want things in ship shape as with any other visitor."

Harry stayed still as 40 pairs of eyes found him at the side of the room, and when Emmanuel sent the department back to work, Harry took advantage of the scramble, trailing behind the line of men entering his office. Without letting the anger beating in his ears distract him Harry watches Emmanuel's sure movements as he handed out tasks along with matching brass port keys. As Harry took a hold of Emmanuel's key, his shoulder throbbed, and the pain continued even as he was hooked into the tube of magic, and sent hurtling the midst of the foreign city, it's buildings distinct in the summer afternoon, the noise that only came with the collection of muggles. Harry watched from Emmanuel's side as the men established wards, and the street began to quiet down.

Emmanuel only nodded as he sent three men into the building, while three secured the street outside. Harry watched without comment and when Emmanuel took a seat under the orange awning, Harry stared, completely still for a moment.

"Sit, Potter."

Harry might had bristled, being commended like some stray dog, if he really was the pampered prince of Gryffindor and Dumbledore's golden boy. As it was, Emmanuel had nothing on Aunt Dursley. and Harry swallowed back his rage and pain and took the gestured chair.

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The black and white cat lounged peacefully in the middle of the road, only a few feet away from the heaving intersection that was the boundary of the magically hidden street. His tail flicked back and forth as he observed the noise of the intersection and passing of muggles and idling traffic.

Dennis paid it no attention, even as it turned to watch him as he crossed the road, tracking his brisk walk towards the butchers on the corner. He glanced behind him in the reflection of the window display, looking for all the world as thought the array of meats was suddenly the most compelling thing in the world.

To anyone who might have walked past, they saw a young man disappear through the fly strips of the tiled entrance, to be followed a moment later by a lone gust of wind, sending the plastic clear and blue strips dancing once more. The Butcher, with his back to the door and his attention on a half rack of lamb, noticed nothing, and enjoyed what had become an unusually quiet afternoon.

Only the street's resident stray rose to it's feet, and began to nimbly stalk the almost-invisible boy.

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Harry watched the cat idly for a moment as it strode across his otherwise empty line of vision. A beat later and Emmanuel had his wand in hand and Harry watched as a wash of magic floated harmlessly off the cat now calmly walking towards them.

Emmanuel fired off a few more revealment charms then returned to wave off the three swiftly approaching wizards, who disappeared once more into the backpackers across the empty road. As they swept back into position the street returned to an eery silence once more, just he, Emmanuel and an apparently harmless ally cat.

Two things then happened in quick succession.

The chair next to him moved.

Apparently on it's own,

Just an inch or two to the left.

Then with the whiplash of a gunshot, a Tall wizard appeared with a swirl of robes, as Luna clutched his arm and greeted Harry with an etherial smile.

Harry held his breath even as he held in his temper, attempting to ignore the twinge in his shoulder, and Ginny's face emblazoned across the prophets noon edition and tried to recall whatever calm he'd managed to piece together.

A beat passed, and still he held fast. He did not cast, or even look at the offending chair. He remembered Ron's directions across McGonagol's chessboard monstrosity, and, though he certainly gripped his wand, he remained still and focused instead on Luna.

If his nod was stiff, it was masked he hoped, as he stood humbly to behind Emmanuel's shoulder, as the blonde wizard finally rose to his feet.

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Harry didn't seem pleased to see her at all, and she stopped waving and instead let her auror lead ahead, as he was grasped by the hand by the tanned blonde wizard. She thought of what Hermione would do, then interrupted before the man she knew must be Emmanuel could speak.

"I didn't know you'd be here Harry! This is Christopher."

Luna smiled as her french auror shook Harry's hand with the enthusiasm that spoke of recognition, if not a touch of awe. She turned her eyes to Emmanuel and maintained the calm expectant look that had always seemed to unnerve her fellow classmates.

"I'm Emmanuel, Miss Lovegood. Member of the Magical Law Enforcement on behalf of the British Ministry of Magic. We're here to safeguard and ensure you and your rights are protected. What was your name, Monsieur?"

Luna maintained her blank expression as both she and Harry stood silent, blocked out of the conversation that Emmanuel was now conducting in apparently well versed french.

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Dennis made it into the Kebab shop, to the foot of the stairs, before three voices turned his invisible limbs to lead.

The shop owners broken english mumbled from the store's kitchen -

"Yes, a young couple, then another girl, three tenants. Models I think, I don't mean to run the other sort of establishment, I mean. You understand?"

Then floating down from above the still empty stairway

"Tony, two magical signatures in here, I'm tracing it now, but let the luitenant know?"

Dennis barely had time to turn from the stair way, hoping his movements were silent on the cold white tiles, when a far more familiar voice sounded from the entrance.

"I didn't know you'd be here Harry! This is Christopher."

Dennis quickly crouched behind the counter and realised all at once that he probably shouldnt have rushed into the shop in a blind panic.

Coolest thing, Collin! I stormed into a building full of Aurors, completely invisable!

Except now he was stuck and as if to stress the point, the edges of his muggle sneakers revealed their texture to the world, and in the glass counters reflection, a blur was clearly visible.

"Wow Dennis! Don't panic, I'm sure this kind of thing always happens in the magical world!"

Dennis braced himself, reapplying a far stronger, thus colder disillusionment charm down the back of his head, then clutched at the battered hand me down camera around his neck. He tried not to think too bitterly of his blunder, or his now dead brother, and took a steadying breath.

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Harry held himself poised, and he truly did attempt to listen to the conversation between Emmanuel and the French auror. But robbed of any insight to the meaning, to what was going on, his mind seemed to scream, rioting against the bank of calm attention.

The chair had moved.

What was the point of watching everything unfold if he missed an opportunity to actually act. Harry stood tense, his wand gripped tightly and his body poised to shield Luna in case Hermione was wrong, in case Luna was in more trouble than she realized.

It was a relief more than anything when a violent flash and click pierced the conversation, and all was chaos.

His wand was raised even as he launched himself before Luna, the whistle at his shoulder the signal of Emmanuel stunner streaming past his ear. The French wizard instinctively ushered Luna further into the empty tiled shop, and Harry turned to send his own stunner after Emmanuels.

"Sir?"

The question was answered as MLE offices swept onto the street, and Emmanuel sent the metal shutters of the shop streaming down at once.

As the five men reached the shop, there was a pause before from about 100 yards down the street, the muggle stream of foot traffic was burst apart by alarmed cries as an obviously disillusioned figure crashed through the crowd.

The crack of disapparition followed, echoing down like whiplash through the empty street as the aurors looked back in askance to Emmanuel, who glowered before turning again to Harry.

"I should have known. Potter, I don't want this turned into a circus because of the fame you bring with you." His voice, which had been low and tinged with fury, rang out suddenly in a shout. "I want you to return to London immediately. Jameson, take Harry to report."

"But Luna! I have to ask where Hermione is!"

Harry's temper finally snapped. His shoulder hurt, this hadn't been his fault, he needed to be here and see what was going on - and Luna was inside those metal shutters, alone.

"That's enough Mr Potter, this isn't Hogwarts anymore. Jameson, go."

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By the time Hermione had navigated the web of Paris streets, and found the narrow muggle lane way which slowly and surely lead to the garage archway Hermione had entered yesterday, a niggling thought had struck her. This might be the last night she spent in Paris, and there was a sadness about the street as the monday night erupted into a swelling summer storm, the heavy grey cloud swarming the two story avenues and amplifying the sticky heat of traffic and muggle life, ordinary life, tearing past the pale young woman;

Music swam in the air as she walked unobtrusively to the large empty garage arch, stark of the graffiti and posters that decorated other parts of the city. The music though, continued to ring hauntingly into the older crevice of paris, as Hermione stood alone, and drew Luna's robe from her satchel.

She tried not to think about Luna's absurd suggestion of Nargles, but remained still, in the stormy air of the muggle street, reluctant to venture forth.

Her phone was silent as ever, her unread texts to Dennis, and those alerting her of Luna's movement, hidden away, as instead a slowly ticking 24 hour clock flashed it's digits in an eternal countdown.

Rita Skeeter was waiting for her.

Hermione emerged through the archway, confident that the MLE were elsewhere in the city, even as the thoughts of Dennis and Luna dragged at her limbs and weighed her down just as effectively as the dark clouds above. Hermione's last thought, as she considered her next move and made her decision, was whether Nargles affected the weather. Tisking at herself, she wondered for a moment if she had indeed gone mad.

The thought brought an unlady-like snort from the elaborately robed witch.

Madness was what she was going for.

She jauntily entered the rabbit hole that was the magical street, smiling at the evening shoppers milling about under launching vines from the obtrusive greenhouse. In the pocket of her cloak, the face of her phone was blanketed with a finality, as the timepiece met the steady thrum of magic. Hermione readied herself for Skeeter, with the unsettling feeling in her stomach she remembered from all those other improvised plans that had gone so awry.

Perhaps a bit of madness would help. After all, dragging Skeeter along to an audience with Narcissa Malfoy, could only be described as a certain kind of madness.

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