AN: Being a corporate slave is taking all of my writing time. Thank you for being patient with me. When I wrote this chapter, I didn't realize that I already reached over 12k words so I decided to split this into two parts. Part two will be uploaded next week (hopefully).


BEST LAID PLANS.

SEPTEMBER 9, 1997.

Hermione felt the all-too-familiar tingle of the wards she placed around the entrance of Grimmauld Place, signaling that Harry had returned from his usual task. She placed the teacup down and exited the kitchen, intending to wait for him by the end of the hallway. It had been some sort of security check for them or a ritual, as Ginny jokingly pointed out. Still, it was better to be safe.

She stood there, hidden in the shadows as the front door opened and closed as if on its own accord. Then Harry emerged out of thin air, his Invisibility Cloak draped over his arm while the latest copy of the Daily Prophet was tucked under his armpit.

Then the usual low whisper of "Severus Snape?" echoed across the hallway, followed by a chill wind that made him pause and grimace. He muttered, "I didn't kill you," before the dusty jinx-figure of Albus Dumbledore exploded. Hermione waited until he was halfway down before stepping out of the shadows, her wand raised towards her friend in a defensive stance.

"What did my Nana do to you when she found out you're a wizard?"

Harry visibly jumped before answering her, "Nothing. Your grandmother passed away before I even met her." Hermione lowered her wand and smiled. "I know you're there waiting but I still get jumpy when you do that."

"Sorry," Hermione took the paper from him and they made their way upstairs to the drawing-room. Heavy footsteps sounded behind them and they turned to see Ginny skidding to a halt a few feet away.

"Any news?"

"Yeah, and it's not good," Harry said as they walked into the drawing-room.

Half of the entire room was littered with parchment paper. A month ago, Hermione transfigured one of the side tables into a corkboard where they could stick all the information they needed. Now it was filled to the brim with hurriedly scribbled notes, mostly from her while some of it, the elegantly written ones, was from Malfoy. Half of the corkboard contained a drawn map of the Ministry and all of its known escape routes while the other half contained four faces that were pinned at the top and underneath each of those photos was the information they had gathered so far.

The plan had been to impersonate four Ministry officials that worked near Umbridge's office. Albert Runcorn, according to Malfoy, was an official who the Ministry went to for their dirty deeds. Right now, he was the lead investigator of suspected Muggleborns and the one who will have the most access to Umbridge. The four of them agreed that Malfoy would be the one to impersonate him since the two of them were already acquainted with each other.

Kathy Bridges was their second target. She was Umbridge's haughty assistant and their backup in the unlikely event that Malfoy failed to extract the locket. It was a debate on who would take her but in the end, the role went to Ginny. The third one was Randall Pyke, Yaxley's assistant. He was a Slytherin in Percy Weasley's year, according to Ginny, and the one who Harry will polyjuice into. Mafalda Hopkirk was the last one, an assistant in the Improper Use of Magic Office. They chose her because she was inconspicuous and her office was two levels below Umbridge.

Hermione studied the last photo carefully before turning back to Harry and Ginny.

"Where's Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"In the library, I think. That's where I last saw him an hour ago," it was Ginny who answered. "Give me a minute. I'll go get your Majesty's posh arse."

The redhead quickly left, leaving Harry and Hermione alone.

"How's the potion coming along?" her friend broke the silence.

"It should be done tonight just as scheduled," Hermione went to the farthest chair in the room and sat there. "I still find it odd that there was still a full bottle of lacewing flies in the storage. I vividly remember Mad-Eye telling Mr. Weasley back then that they had used all of it for your extraction from Privet Drive."

"Maybe they didn't see the extra bottle?"

"Harry," Hermione rolled her eyes. Whatever happened to constant vigilance? "It was sitting there in the middle of the cabinet like someone just placed it there for everyone to see."

"Does it matter?" Harry shrugged. "At least we can go forward with the plan tomorrow."

"But Harry, are you really sure it's wise to bring Ginny with us?" Hermione asked. "With Malfoy, I understand perfectly since he knows every nook and cranny in the Ministry. The more of us there, the more likely we'll get caught."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair which had now gotten long. Hermione thought he needed a haircut but decided against it. The long hair would be good to keep his scar hidden.

"She's already part of the plan, Hermione. You're the one who insisted that Ginny knew what she was getting into."

"Still—"

They were interrupted by Ginny herself entering the room followed by Malfoy. Hermione immediately sat straighter in her chair. After that choking incident with Harry over a month ago, Malfoy had behaved perfectly since. Apart from the underhanded insults, he never openly provoked any of them and had taken to staying inside the Black family library most of the time.

Though Hermione was still suspicious of his sudden change in behavior.

"I do hope this is more important than the news you usually bring, Potter. I was right in the middle of reading something."

Harry held out his hand in Hermione's direction and she gave him the newspaper. He unfolded it and laid it on the table in the middle of the room. There, on the front page, Hermione could see Harry's face with the words 'Undesirable no. 1' emblazoned across the middle.

"Bloody hell, Harry," Ginny said. "It says here you're wanted for your involvement in Professor Dumbledore's death. They're giving a reward of two hundred thousand galleons."

"That's not all," he flipped onto the next page, and a chorus of gasps echoed inside the room.

MUDBLOODS
and the Dangers They Pose to a Peaceful Pure-Blood Society

Underneath the title were photos of known Muggleborn witches and wizards. Hermione immediately saw her photo in between Dean Thomas and Ted Tonks. A mixture of anger and disbelief coursed through her and she had to close her eyes and count to ten in her mind just to calm herself down.

"At least they used that photo of you during the Yule Ball," Ginny offhandedly commented. "Malfoy's photo on the other hand…"

Hermione's eyes instantly opened, landing on the bottom of the page. The word missing was written above Malfoy and his son's moving photograph and a reward of a hundred thousand galleons to whoever can locate them. She tentatively looked up at Malfoy, expecting him to be shaking with fury or still with shock, but was surprised when all she saw was him sneering down at the paper.

"Only a hundred thousand galleons?" he snorted. "My son and I combined have got to be worth more than Potter, no offense."

Harry rolled his eyes. "None taken."

"Well, to be fair, it says here you're only considered as missing. Unlike Harry and Hermione who are wanted by the Ministry," Ginny shrugged.

"This really makes our trip to the Ministry more dangerous," Hermione finally said, giving Harry a look as if to emphasize her point regarding their previous argument. "It's not just the Death Eaters who are looking for us but the full force of the Aurors as well."

"That's why we're using Polyjuice Potion," Harry shot back.

"I think we should alter our appearance as well," Ginny suggested. "In case the Polyjuice wears off and we're still stuck inside."

"Glamours?"

The redhead shook her head. "Glamours can be easily removed. I'm thinking more like the Muggle way like dyeing our hair a different color and cutting it."

"Absolutely not!" Malfoy snapped, a mutinous expression on his face.

"Oh, don't be such a priss! It's only hair. It'll grow back." Ginny retorted before a manic gleam flashed through her eyes. "We will tie you to a chair if you won't cooperate. Your choice."

Hermione subconsciously patted her curls. To be honest, she could give two Knuts about chopping a huge chunk of it although the thought of turning into a blonde was making her anxious. But like what Ginny said, it'll grow back eventually, right?

"We'll do it tomorrow before we leave," she declared. "We can ask Kreacher to fetch us bleaching powder and some hair dyes."

"Is it possible to turn my hair purple?" Harry asked. "I remember Tonks having purple hair and it looked so good on her."

"Unbelievable," Malfoy huffed before storming away. "Imbeciles!"

Ginny and Harry shared a conspiratorial look before giggling.

"Did you bring that up just to rile him?" Hermione asked Ginny.

"No. I was actually serious about it," her friend said. "But it was fun taking the piss out of Malfoy."

The three of them succumbed to fits and giggles, unaware of the obscured portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black hanging outside the hallway listening to their conversation.


SEPTEMBER 10, 1997.

Hermione stood before the bathroom sink, staring at her reflection in the mirror. There were large clumps of chestnut curls on the sink and some were on the floor as well. She should start cleaning but… Merlin's beard! Her hair, which used to be a few inches below her shoulders, was now just past her jawline. The bleaching job she did was abysmal and there were still patches of brown when she ran her fingers through her temple but overall, it did the trick. She hardly recognized herself.

Before she could do something like keep a few strands of her hair out of sentimentality, Hermione quickly vanished the mess and exited the bathroom.

Stepping into the drawing-room, Hermione stopped at the threshold. The first thing she noticed was Harry, who was now sporting a blond look as well, almost as blond as Malfoy—or used to be. Her eyes drifted to the older wizard sitting rigidly on the chair she frequently occupied. Lucius Malfoy's long silky blonde hair was now dyed pitch black and cropped short, the style reminded her of when she saw Caligula's marble head bust when her parents took her to the Louvre Museum nearly ten years ago.

"It's rude to stare, Miss Granger," he snapped and Hermione immediately looked down, cheeks turning red in embarrassment. It was the second time he had caught her staring at him.

"Hermione!" she turned to her right to see Ginny who had dyed her hair black but only managed to make it a dark shade of brown. "You look bloody gorgeous! Blonde suits you!"

Hermione had flushed a bit more at Ginny's compliment. "Thanks, Gin," she mumbled.

"Okay, now that Hermione's here, I think we should go over the plan once more before we leave," Harry said as he stepped into the middle of the room. It reminded Hermione of that time when he finally found his confidence to lead the DA secret meetings. She couldn't have been more proud of her friend right now. Harry sure had come a long way from the self-critical boy he was years ago. "Ginny and I will take care of Randall Pyke and Kathy Bridges while Albert Runcorn and Mafalda Hopkirk are in Hermione and Malfoy's hands."

Hermione peeked a glance at the now dark-haired, older wizard sitting rigidly across her. She won't ever admit it to him out loud but the brunet looked suited him better than his natural blond. It gave him a softer look, making his azure eyes pop out more like a whirlpool amidst the battering sea. It was a contrast to Ron's calm, baby blue ones. Hermione stood a little straighter at the last thought, confused why she was comparing Malfoy and Ron suddenly.

She quickly averted her eyes back to Harry lest she got caught gawking again for the third time.

"We only have a short window to do this without attracting the entire Ministry's attention," Harry stepped forward and handed them each a flask containing the Polyjuice Potion Hermione had brewed. "If you noticed anyone suspecting you—"

"Desist, distract, and disappear," Ginny said. "And then we'll meet two blocks away from Whitehall near that fish and chips stand."

"Don't forget to use the DA coins if we ever get separated," Harry flipped the said coin into the air before deftly catching it with one hand. "We should head out now. It's almost time."

Hermione wanted to postpone the moment longer, to delay it for another day or a week at least. There were an awful lot of things that could go wrong, and so much of this plan relied on chance but she knew that even if they stayed here for three months, things will still happen.

She looked back at Malfoy. Harry was adamant that the four of them should stick together but she argued that it'll take longer and they might miss their chance in intercepting their targets. Thankfully, Ginny saw the logic in her arguments and sided with her. Harry eventually, albeit reluctantly, conceded but not before threatening Malfoy with all sorts of hexes if the now brunet wizard decided to do something funny. Fortunately, Malfoy only glared at Harry and kept his mouth firmly shut.

One could only hope that he would stay that way until this was over.

"Let's go."


They landed in a partially hidden alley in Charing Cross Road, a block away from the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione canceled the disillusionment spell she had cast on them when they left Grimmauld Place before stepping out onto the pavement. She and Malfoy wove through the Muggle shops and pedestrians easily as if they were part of the usual morning employees on their way to their nine-to-five jobs.

She would glance at him now and then, gauging his reaction, and was surprised to see that he was looking at his surroundings in curiosity, similar to her expression when McGonagall had accompanied her and her parents to Diagon Alley for the first time. Hermione wondered if this was his first time in a Muggle locale. She had to slow down and stop several times because Malfoy kept getting distracted with the Muggle shops and the wares displayed in the windows. Halfway through, she had to grab his wrist because he couldn't seem to wrench his attention away from the electronics shop they passed by. He honestly looked like a kid in a toy store.

"What is that contraption?" he asked as they stopped in front of the Leaky's entrance. "How did they fit all those people in there? I thought Muggles have no magic?"

"It's called television," she answered as she rummaged inside her bag for their robes. "And no, it doesn't use any magic. It's an advanced Muggle technology. Here, wear this."

She handed him a pair of large, black horn-rimmed glasses.

"I don't need any glasses," he frowned at her hand.

"I know, but you're still recognizable even with the cropped black hair," she said. "Your eyes give you away."

"Fine," he plucked the glasses from her hand and slid them to his face. "Happy?"

Hermione ignored him and went inside the Leaky instead. She spotted Tom the barman behind the bar, despondently polishing a chipped glass with a stained rag. He glanced at them for a moment before turning back to his task and Hermione let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. He didn't recognize them.

The entire pub was deserted aside from the lone wizard sitting in one corner. Just as Hermione was about to make her way to the small walled courtyard, a hand grabbed her bicep and turned to see Malfoy staring straight ahead.

"If anyone asks, tell them you're my girlfriend from Marseille," he whispered near her.

"Absolutely not!" she hissed, trying her hardest not to shiver when she felt his breath tickled her ear.

"Fine, you can be my daughter then," Malfoy drawled, letting go of her arm and placing his hand on her back instead. "Although I wonder how you'll explain, on the off chance that someone asks, how we don't have any facial similarities." He ushered her forward while nodding curtly to the barman.

"No one's going to ask us. We'll go inside the coffee shop, wait for Mafalda Hopkirk, and then intercept her," she whispered as she tapped the brick beside the trash bin three times with her wand. They stood back as it slowly twisted away to the side.

"Suit yourself," Malfoy said from behind her.

Hermione immediately scanned the area for any immediate threats before stepping through the archway. The sound of the bricks sealing themselves felt so ominous but still, they kept moving until they reached the coffee shop Harry had described.

People tend to form a routine with their everyday lives, especially ones who work in a typical office job and Mafalda Hopkirk was one of them. According to Harry, she never failed to drop by the café to pick up her usual blend before going to work. This was their best bet at ambushing her and obtaining a strand of her hair.

"She should be here any minute now," Hermione handed Malfoy the puking pastilles before ducking to the loo to wait. At exactly eight minutes, the door burst open and Mafalda Hopkirk rushed to the nearest sink, vomiting her entire breakfast in one go.

"Oh, dear," Hermione said in a fake concerned tone. "Are you okay?"

"I don't think so—" Mafalda only managed before heaving out another chunk of mashed food. Eggs and toast, Hermione disgustedly noted.

She stepped closer and pretended to rub her back in a soothing manner while quickly plucking at least seven strands of hair off the retching witch.

"I think you should have yourself checked at St. Mungos and have them sort you out," Hermione suggested before ushering her out of the loo, then outside the café. She spotted Malfoy sitting in one corner on her way out, sipping a cup of coffee as if they weren't in hurry. Bloody bastard.

Mafalda thanked a repulsed Hermione before turning and vanishing on the spot. That's one down, she thought before heading back inside the café.

"Thanks for all the help," she sarcastically said before sitting down beside him.

"You're welcome," he replied cheerily before taking a sip. "This has to be the most disgusting yet addictive drink I have ever tasted."

"That's coffee for you," she muttered before pulling out the flask with the Polyjuice potion. She dropped the several hairs she'd grabbed from Mafalda Hopkirk inside and the potion sizzled before settling down again.

Just as Hermione placed the flask back in her beaded bag, a server slid up to their table, a floating notepad and a quill trailed behind him. "Hello, can I get you anything?"

Hermione blinked a few times before answering. "I'll have what he's having," she pointed in Malfoy's direction.

"Splendid," the server smiled. "Would the lovely couple like to try our pastries as well? They're freshly baked just this morning."

She bristled at the false implication. She wanted to tip the coffee cup over Malfoy's head just to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. Hermione politely declined the offer, claiming that they were in a hurry but promised the server that she would try their pastries when she came back.

"I told you so," came the smug reply from the annoying bastard sitting beside her.

"Hurry up and finish that," she gritted out. "We still need to get Runcorn."


They landed in a tiny, deserted alleyway this time, surrounded by large bins. Albert Runcorn always appeared in this corner at exactly eight o'clock sharp according to Harry's notes. The tricky part about this was subduing him without alerting anyone, even the Muggles. Especially the Muggles.

"I still don't know why I'm the one who has to approach him," Malfoy said beside her.

"I'm the one who has the perfectly working wand here," Hermione glanced at him to see him pulling his left sleeve down, catching a glimpse of the Dark Mark's end. She immediately stiffened, internally chastising herself for forgetting there were other ways to contact You-Know-Who without using his wand. He could've made contact while she was distracted with Mafalda Hopkirk. "What are you doing?"

Her expression must've given her away because Malfoy raised both his hands in a placating manner. "Relax, Miss Granger. I was just simply fixing my sleeves."

"I don't believe you."

"That's not my problem, is it?" Malfoy smirked at her. "But rest assured that I have no intentions of going back on my word."

"The word of a Death Eater," she snapped.

"The word of a Malfoy," he corrected and Hermione couldn't stop herself from snorting. "Is there a problem?"

"Really? Do you even know what your last name means?" she asked. "Malfoy means 'bad faith' in French. So, pardon me for not trusting a word you say."

"Fair enough," he shrugged. "But we still have that vow whether you trust me or not."

"Unfortunately," she mumbled.

"Unfortunately," Malfoy echoed.

The two of them lapse into silence. Little more than a minute later, they heard a small pop a few feet away from the alley. Hermione peeked around to see a Ministry employee standing in the middle of the still empty sidewalk.

"It's not him," she whispered.

"Clearly," Malfoy drawled behind her and Hermione suppressed the urge to strangle him. She hoped that Runcorn would appear soon lest she had two stupefied bodies in her hands.

Two more pops sounded after the first one walked past them and this time, one of them was a balding wizard and the other one was Albert Runcorn himself. Finally! Hermione glanced beside her to see Malfoy already walking leisurely in Runcorn's direction. She watched as Malfoy put on a confused face before pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. He stopped Runcorn when he was a foot away from Hermione's hiding place. The bald wizard looked at them briefly before scurrying towards the entrance to the public toilet.

As soon as the wizard was out of view and there were no other witnesses, Hermione didn't hesitate in firing Stupefy at Runcorn who immediately slumped towards Malfoy.

"You could've warned me," he hissed as he dragged Runcorn's unconscious body back to the narrow alleyway.

"Well, it's done now," she said as she plucked a few strands of Runcorn's hair and two of his tokens, handing one of it and the hairs over to Malfoy. "What are we going to do about the body?"

"I'd say we simply just kill him but we can't use his hair if he's dead."

"Forget I asked," Hermione muttered. She levitated Runcorn towards the back of the alley before arranging the trash bins to cover his entire body before placing a disillusionment spell just to be sure. "I think that's fine. We should head back to Harry and Ginny. They must be worried by now."

Malfoy held out his hand for her to take but Hermione ignored it and decided to grab his bicep instead. Their surroundings twisted before darkness overcame her vision, sending the two of them into a vortex of nothingness.


Harry paced in the back alley, near the said fish and chips stand while Ginny stood to the side, kicking stray pebbles to bounce off the brick wall. It was ten minutes past eight and Hermione and Malfoy were still out there. Harry was beginning to think that it was a mistake to let Hermione split the four of them into two when a pop of apparition sounded near them. Pulling out his wand and signaling Ginny to stay behind him, Harry walked closer to the source, the expelliarmus spell on the tip of his tongue. He breathed a sigh of relief when Hermione came into view with Malfoy beside her. Harry noted that he was wearing thick black glasses. Hermione probably made him wear it.

"What took you so long?" he asked.

Hermione shot an annoyed look in Malfoy's direction. "This one here decided to have a coffee break first before we took down Runcorn."

"Coffee?" Ginny asked before looking at Malfoy. "Is it as good as they say?"

"Appallingly so."

Confused, Harry looked at Hermione for answers but his now blonde friend only shrugged tiredly. "Did you get the hairs?"

"We did," Hermione pulled out her flask, giving it a little shake.

Harry pulled out his as well, giving it a sniff before drinking all of it in one go. "Ugh, it tastes like stale bread."

"Mine tastes like Mum's spoiled pumpkin pies," Ginny screwed her face in disgust.

Immediately, the familiar churning in his stomach started. Harry was then reminded of that time they first drank this disgusting potion in the second-floor girl's bathroom. He cast a glance in Hermione's direction, hoping she wouldn't turn into a cat this time.

A burning sensation spread throughout his body, making him lean to the walls for support. He reached a hand to his cheek and it felt like melting wax, his skin bubbling, and prickling all over. His limbs stretched painfully, nearly ripping his clothes apart at the seams while he felt his hair recede a little at the top before turning brown like his original hair color.

As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Harry caught his reflection in a nearby puddle and realized his glasses were clouding his vision. He took it off and tuck it inside the pocket of his robes. Harry made a mental note to thank Hermione later for another successfully brewed potion.

He heard a throat clearing and looked up to see Runcorn—no, Malfoy looking at him.

"Do you mind?" he spread his arms in an invitation.

It took Harry a moment before he realized that Runcorn must've been shorter and bulkier than Malfoy. Harry pulled out his wand and transfigured his clothes to look like the ones Runcorn usually wore to the Ministry and for it to fit Malfoy perfectly before adjusting his own set of clothes as well.

"Please tell me I didn't turn into a cat this time," Hermione, who was now Mafalda, groaned beside Malfoy. Her blonde curls turned into flyaway gray hair.

Harry chuckled. "No, you didn't."

"Is this how it feels?" Ginny said as she inspected her new body. "I feel like my insides re-arranged themselves."

"That pretty much how it feels. There's also a bit of burning like you're a candle," he replied before turning back to Hermione and Malfoy. "Do you have your tokens?"

The two of them held up the tokens they've taken from their targets. Harry nodded. It was time.

Fifty yards along the crowded pavement, spiked black railings were flanking two flights of steps, one labeled GENTLEMEN, the other LADIES.

"See you in the lobby," Ginny whispered to Harry before she and Hermione tottered off to LADIES. When the two witches disappeared inside, Harry turned to Malfoy.

"I'll follow your lead," he said. Malfoy looked at him for a second before joining the oddly dressed men descending into what appeared to be an ordinary underground public toilet, tiled in its usual grimy black and white. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy sneering at their surroundings. It was the right call to let him be Runcorn since, from what Harry had observed during his trips, the Ministry official always looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

Harry watched as Malfoy let himself into a cubicle by inserting his golden token into a slot in the door. He eventually followed into the next cubicle beside it. According to Malfoy, they were supposed to stand on the toilet and flush themselves in. Harry was dubious about it at first, thinking it was another one of Malfoy's tricks but looking at it now, he knew the older wizard was dead serious.

He clambered into the toilet and was surprised to feel that his shoes and socks were completely dry. Maybe the water was just an illusion. He reached up, pulled the chain, and the next moment he had zoomed down a short chute, emerging out of a fireplace into the Ministry of Magic.


Ginny stood with Hermione in front of a large black stone sculpture of a witch and a wizard sitting on an intricately carved throne. Underneath that throne were carved naked bodies of men, women, and children, twisted and pressed together to support the weight of the throne, and at its base was the new motto of the Ministry: MAGIC IS MIGHT—engraved in foot-high letters. It was rather frightening and she couldn't imagine how Hermione must be feeling right now.

"This is horrible," she said to her friend, who was staring up at the statue. "This… this is—"

"Their rightful place," Hermione said flatly but Ginny noticed how her eyes were tight and her jaw was clenched.

One of the Ministry fireplaces lit up in a vibrant green and Ginny saw Malfoy's Polyjuiced form gracefully emerged out of the fireplace. As someone who lacked the proper motor skills to be as gracefully as him, Ginny couldn't help but feel a bit envious. She raised her hand to call him over to them.

"Where's Harry?" she whispered.

"He should be here now unless he stumbled in the toilet and broke his neck," he said. "Which would be a complete shame since I was actually hoping for him to win this war."

Ginny knew she should be angry at that comment about Harry accidentally getting himself killed especially since Merlin knew how many times he had brushed shoulders with Death but she couldn't help but appreciate Malfoy's morbid sense of humor. It reminded her of the twins. She hoped that Fred and George were doing okay.

Well, true to his word, Harry eventually stumbled out of the fireplace looking bewildered. It probably took him a while to get used to the recent changes in the Ministry since the last time they were here was when they stormed the Department of Mysteries.

"You okay, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry was about to run his fingers through his hair but stopped when he realized that he was only going to mess it up. He sent a smile in Ginny's direction which felt odd to her since it came from Randall Pyke's face.

"Come on. Let's go," Hermione said. "But keep your eyes open for Umbridge."

"That's going to be hard since the woman is so short. I might even mistake her for a goblin," Ginny whispered and she heard Malfoy snigger behind her.

"Just… just watch out for her," Hermione sighed defeatedly.

They eventually joined the stream of witches and wizards moving toward the golden gates at the end of the hall, looking around as surreptitiously as possible, but there was no sign of the distinctive figure of Dolores Umbridge. They passed through the gates and into a smaller hall, where queues were forming in front of twenty golden grilles housing as many lifts. They had barely reached the line when someone shouted across the hall.

"Pyke!"

Silence befell the entire workers standing in the hall. Ginny looked around to see a scowling man with slightly brutish features walking towards them. It was then that she realized that it was Corban Yaxley, Randall Pyke's boss. She looked at Harry who was looking at Hermione in panic.

"Where are the papers regarding the Malfoys' properties I requested two days ago?"

"Uhm, uhh in your office?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" Yaxley took a step closer to Harry. "You do know that your father begged me on his knees just so you could get this job? You may be a Pureblood, Pyke, but you're just one of the rabble. If you want to keep this job, then I suggest you get down to the archives and start combing through every file they have on Malfoy. I want all those files on my desk before I come back or you better start packing."

Harry looked like he was about to punch Yaxley in the face and Ginny resisted the urge to place her hand on his shoulder.

The golden grille before them clattered open. With a nod and unpleasant smile to Malfoy, who was evidently expected to appreciate this treatment of Randall Pyke, Yaxley swept away toward another lift. Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Malfoy entered theirs, but nobody followed them. It was as if they were infectious. The grilles shut with a clang and the lift began to move upward.

"Bloody hell," Harry hissed before turning to Malfoy. "What does he want with your properties?"

"That pretentious slime," Malfoy seethed. "He probably wants to seize one of my estates now that I am reported missing. He's always been jealous of my wealth."

"Not just your wealth apparently," Ginny snorted. "At least you can pull the long blond hair more pleasantly than him and have you seen his robes? It'll give Professor Snape a run for his money with the way Yaxley kept flourishing it like a peacock."

"Why, thank you, Miss Weasley," Malfoy mock-bowed at her.

"But what do I do?" Harry said.

"We'll come with you don't worry," Ginny assured him. "We'll help you look for those documents."

Malfoy snorted. "You will not find those papers. My ancestors purchased a lot of estates under the table thus most of them were not filed and recorded in the Ministry archives."

"Then what the hell am I going to show Yaxley?" Harry snapped.

"You could get a few papers and charm them to look like documents," Hermione suggested.

"I'm not good with charms, remember? I'm going to bungle it up." Harry couldn't help it now and ran his fingers through his hair. "Plus we haven't got much time. You three go and find Umbridge while I try to find whatever document I can. We'll use the coins to update each other."

At that moment the lift juddered to a halt. A disembodied female voice said, "Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau," and the grilles slid open.

"This is your stop, Potter," Malfoy said. "The archives are on the end of the hallway."

"Be careful, Harry," Hermione said.

Ginny gave Harry a comforting squeeze before pushing him a little and he hurried out of the lift just as a couple of wizards and several pale violet paper airplanes fluttered around the lamp in the ceiling of the lift.

Their eyes met for a short moment and she tried to convey how much she was feeling into that look.

"Morning, Albert," said a bushily whiskered man, smiling at Malfoy. Ginny glanced over at Malfoy and Hermione as the lift creaked upward once more. Hermione sent her a worried look while Malfoy was trying his best to ignore the wizard. Unfortunately, the said wizard leaned toward him more.

"I heard they finally captured a few Muggles, eh? Nice one, Albert. Dirk Cresswell says he is a half-blood but we all know that's rubbish. My sister says he was in her year and that he's a Mudblood," he sneered the last word. "I can't wait for you to capture Ted Tonks as well. Such a shame that one of the prominent members of the Black family tainted their line with such filth. Sirius Black was a blood traitor like the Weasleys but at least he didn't sully himself."

Ginny heard Hermione let out a little growl. The wizard looked at her and she coughed feebly before turning away. Malfoy on the other hand… Ginny noticed he was standing more stiffly now than he did a minute ago. Thankfully, the lift stopped, and the grilles opened once more.

"Level two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Wizengamot Administration Services," said the disembodied witch's voice.

The bushily whiskered wizard nodded to Malfoy before exiting the lift with the other wizard, leaving the three of them finally alone. The moment the golden door had closed Hermione said, very fast, "That bloody, arrogant, foul, loathsome, good-for-nothing bigot thinks he's better than us Muggleborns when in fact, he can't even tell a Muggleborn and Pureblood apart even if there was a bloody glowing sign pointed on top of—"

"Level one, Minister of Magic and Support Staff."

The golden grilles slid apart again and Ginny and Hermione gasped. Four people stood before them, two of them deep in conversation: a longhaired wizard wearing magnificent robes of black and gold, and a squat, toadlike witch in all-pink wearing a velvet bow in her short hair and clutching a clipboard to her chest.

Shit, shit, shit. Ginny chanted inside her head. Nearly a month of careful planning all went down the bog. At least Hermione was here with them.