In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 59: Return
"Still feels wrong," the Chaser said to the Seeker, "Having you swallow—"
"Dunno why," the Seeker said, "He wants to be reminded of Potter, I guess, but I do as he commands."
"This should help your plight," the Chaser said as he slid a brick across the table.
"Hit Potter in the head with this?" the Seeker asked, "What's so special?"
"It'll help with your ingredient shortage," the Chaser said as he opened a panel to one of the bricks, "Place these well, but you prime—" he pulled out a small translucent white sphere with an embedded unicorn hair "—this with a bit what you need, and come back later after it's had time to gather more."
"Speed!" the Seeker said as he slid the dial.
"Start at slow," the Chaser said, "Even an idiot will notice the effects if you set it to fast and you break the stealth."
"Aw," the Seeker said as he returned the dial to the lowest setting.
"That's good to start," the Chaser said, "That's the prototype, let me know how it works, so I don't waste time in producing a dud."
"Ta," the Seeker said.
"He will see you now," Wormtail said, nearby.
The Seeker stood, went through the doors, in the small hall of the house. He knelt, kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robe.
"I need new clothes," Hermione said as she entered Gia's bedroom Saturday morning.
"Go starkers?" Ron asked.
Hermione glared.
"I wouldn't mind," Ron said.
"Be civilized, Ron," Hermione said.
"Where's the fun in that?" Ron replied.
Hermione went over to his trunk, opened it.
"You need them too," Hermione said.
"Got plenty," Ron stated.
Hermione bent over his trunk, pulled out a pair of white briefs. Thread barren, tears between the elastic and the cloth, she held with her left hand, pointed with her right, at the ink penned into the elastic waistband.
"Rips—and," Hermione said, "Bill, Charlie, Percy, maybe Fred or George, and you—you're the sixth owner."
"They're comfortable," Ron stated.
"They don't hide a damn thing, so they're useless," Hermione said, before her finger pointed to Ron, "You deserve better."
"Hermione!" Ron snapped as he sat back onto the bed, frowned.
"Sorry," Hermione said as she turned around, sat next to him, "That came across wrong." Her eyes on his. "I meant, maybe it's time to change things, outclass Malfoy at his own game?"
"Guess it's okay," Ron said, "At least yours."
Ron stood, put the light gray outback style hat on his head, grabbed his backpack, she grabbed her purse, and they went for the door.
"We can't go starkers," Hermione said.
"Wouldn't try," Ron said, "Besides, I've got a hat."
Hermione snorted as they went down the steps.
"Brr," Hermione muttered as Ron opened the door.
Hermione's wand out, she cast the charm, and stopped shivering as they left the house. Ron did his wandlessly, watched her fingers stow her wand into her purse by her side.
"Holster!" Ron said.
"Habit," Hermione said as she removed it, fumbled to try to insert into her holster.
"We're going to practice that," Ron said, "Because you need to be fast at it."
"You're acting—paranoid," Hermione said.
"Really?" Ron said, "You read all those articles, right? You think Hogwarts is going to be easy?"
Ron put his feet into motion, Hermione walked with him, along the footpath by the house.
"Worse than last month?" Hermione asked.
"Justin Finch–Fletchley is still missing," Ron said, "It's not going to get any easier."
"Mum and Dad were right," Hermione said, "It's not safe."
"Nope," Ron said, "But would we have it any other way?"
Hermione snorted, shook her head.
…
They returned to 26 Oak Street hours later, entered. Up the stairs, into Gia's bedroom, they put down the backpack and the purse. Hat to the bed, and Ron went for the bathroom. Hermione opened up the trunks, began to pull a bit of Ron's new shirts and socks into his trunk, when she spotted it, his journal, and the thirst for it overwhelmed her. She brought it out, sat on the bed, undid the strap, and began to read, landed on the entry for the day after their row, of him going into the Ministry.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Showed Dumbledore up—Dad's innocent! The hat guided me with the charm to reveal the true fraud that was perpetrated, the claim had been altered by a Parseltongue. I only know of two, and it was too sophisticated for Harry, so that leaves the other.
"Hermione!" Ron barked as he returned, wand in his hand and his journal flew from her lap into his hands, his blue eyes glared at her. "That's my journal!"
"We have no secrets!" Hermione snapped.
"Meaning?" Ron said, "My journal is sacred, but let's try your diary."
Hermione's diary flew from her duffel bag, into Ron's hand, and he opened it.
"No!" Hermione exclaimed, "That's private!"
"So is my journal," Ron said as he cracked the diary open, "As we have no secrets—"
Ron flipped through the pages.
"Whoa, I did piss you off," Ron said.
"Thought you trusted me," Hermione snapped, "Bastard!"
"You really loved JJ's todger," Ron said, "He made no secret of it."
"That's private," Hermione said.
"So's my journal," Ron said, "You talk trust, but how I can I trust you to not sneak around my back and stoop into my private things?"
Hermione felt the glare from Ron's blue eyes, the ones that pierced into her.
"You just read—" Hermione started, her wrath brewing.
"To demonstrate!" Ron said, "Respect my privacy and I'll respect yours. You've got a dozen more diaries in that trunk, want me to read through them?"
Hermione didn't reply, she didn't need to.
"I'll trust you to not violate my privacy again," Ron said as he put his journal into his trunk. "I'll be in the hot tub."
Ron left the bedroom.
Hermione grabbed a quill, brought it to the empty space after her previous entry, couldn't form words. She stared at the outback hat on the bed.
"What do you think?" Hermione asked as she set it on her head.
"Insecure, Granger?" the hat asked.
"What?!" Hermione stammered as she pulled it back off. Realized it was the same hat Ron had written about as being smart.
"Ravenclaw would have been a good fit for you," the hat continued.
"I belong…" Hermione stopped, realized it was the same thought she had years ago at that first feast.
Hermione ran through Richard's bedroom, out onto the roof deck, where Ron was already in the bubbly water beneath the freezing cold clouded night sky.
"You—you stole the Sorting Hat!" Hermione snapped.
"No," Ron said, the lights of the tub lit up his freckled face, "The Minister destroyed Harry's hat, and the Sorting Hat's been with us ever since, hiding."
"Dumbledore—" Hermione started.
"Don't even think about it," Ron said, "Put it out of your mind."
Hermione stood there, his blue eyes on hers, the same piercing gaze she realized was also Dumbledore's signature trademark, the one that seemed to delve into her.
"I meant it," Ron said, "Stop thinking about it—if you need help, it can help. So, come in, water's warm."
She stepped into the hot tub, the scent of the lightly chlorinated water came to her.
"How'd you think I wised up over the holiday?" Ron said, "Like my noggin would actually get better?"
Hermione snorted as she leaned back in the water, his arm went around her shoulders.
"Let's practice drawing your wand," Ron suggested.
"Here?" Hermione asked, the bubbles halfway up her chest.
"Suppose we could practice out in the back?" Ron said, "This is warmer."
Ron's right hand gripped hers, brought them both out of the water.
"Wandless summoning charm for your wand," Ron said, "But you gotta have your hand ready to catch it."
Ron opened his palm, his fingers grabbed the hilt as the wand jumped into his hand.
"Easy," Ron said as his wand jumped back.
Hermione focused, her wand fell into the bubbly water.
"Well, cleaned without a cleaning charm," Ron said as he grabbed her wand, put it into her fingers, "Now, banish it."
Hermione focused, her wand did jump away. Ron pointed to the holster, where her wand was now held.
"Summon," Ron said.
Hermione focused, her wand jumped, but slipped through her grip. Ron's wand out, summoned her wand back, and he returned it to her fingers. She banished.
"You're persistent," Hermione said.
"We'll keep practicing until you're proficient," Ron said, "Nobody, save me or Harry, should be able to tell it's anything other than conjuring up a wand."
"You can't conjure—" Hermione started.
"Why spoil the illusion?" Ron said, "Get it fast enough and its imperceptible. Summon the wand, cast the charm, and banish it—anybody blinks and they miss even the wand. Understand the importance of this?"
"Yes," Hermione snapped.
"Good, we'll train Harry when he returns," Ron said.
"If—" Hermione started.
"When," Ron said, "It's only going to get worse, otherwise Dumbledore wouldn't be so insistent—definitely means Harry needs his holiday before the storm really turns ugly on us, don't you agree?"
"Suppose so," Hermione said. She's already lost her parents, so she didn't really want to fathom how it could get worse.
"Let's continue," Ron said, "Try it again."
Hermione held out her hand, focused. This time, her fingers wrapped themselves around the hilt, still dangled a bit, unsteady.
"Better," Ron said, before he kissed her cheek. "Doing better."
Hermione banished and summoned, this time, her fingers wrapped around the hilt, steady.
"Congratulations," Ron said.
She kept practicing.
Ron woke Sunday morning in Gia's bed, though she and Harry had not yet returned. Instead, Ron felt closer to normal, Hermione's hand brushed against his morning wood.
Hoot!
A letter into Ron's hand from the brown owl.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Suggest Wards: A How–To–Guide for tomorrow afternoon's audit. Also, seven thirty tomorrow morning, Atrium of the Ministry.
"Who sent you—?" Hermione started.
"Nevermind," Ron replied. He recognized the neat handwriting, no signature required.
Hermione rolled off the bed, left the bedroom. Ron followed her down the steps. Around the sofas, they entered the kitchen.
"Good morning," Kirsten said as she entered, her eyes on them, she yawned.
"Morning," Hermione said.
"Morning," Ron said, eyes on Kristen starting the coffee pot.
"You'd think I'd be allowed to work every day," Kristen said, "Nope."
Ron opened the refrigerator, pulled out a cold bucket of chicken, grabbed a drumstick and sank his teeth in.
"Everybody needs a break from time to time," Hermione said as she started the electric tea kettle.
"True," Kristen said.
A chicken wing and a thigh later, Ron put the bucket back, headed back up the stairs. Hermione followed him. Ron went for the bedroom.
"Big plan for today?" Hermione asked.
"Flourish and Blott's?" Ron said as he held out the Portkey.
Hermione held on as Ron activated the Portkey. They landed in the empty guest bedroom on Blackfoot Yard.
"This is—?" Hermione asked.
"Fred and George's house," Ron said as they left the bedroom.
Ron pointed, and they went down the stairs.
"In London, so we can walk directly there," Ron said, "Or—"
"Hermione!" came the exclaim, from Sirius at the table, the The Daily Prophet in his hands.
Ron glanced at her.
"And you—" Sirius said to Ron, "Got her back, so, where's Harry?"
"Use your noggin yet?" Ron said to the wizard in a pinstripe suit, "You'd know exactly when to find him."
"Got a spot in town, he'd be able to stay there, out of sight," Sirius said, "My family home, godfather and godson."
"Ask him yourself," Ron said as he pointed at Sirius' chest, "Drop by—there, you know exactly where, tomorrow, and we'll know by Tuesday morning whether I was right or you were."
"Harry broke up!" Sirius said.
"You're not been paying attention, have you?" Ron said, "Be there, mid–day tomorrow and wait, or before school on Tuesday, your choice."
Ron turned, grabbed Hermione's hand with his right, and went for the fireplace. Ron grabbed a handful of Floo Powder with his left, tossed it in.
"Leaky Cauldron!" Ron exclaimed.
A spin or three, and they stepped out into the large room of the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione paused at the large picture of Justin Finch–Fletchley, a candle beneath, and 'Welcome back!' written on it. Next to it, a printout, a snapshot from the muggle security camera, the one that showed a raven haired black in the same frame as Justin Finch–Fletchley.
"That's—" Hermione started, her hand wrapped around Ron's back, held onto his hip.
"Joining the Wizards Against Potter?" asked Tom, the barkeeper.
Ron shook his head.
"Hey, you—" Tom started.
"Students are already on the train to Hogwarts," Ron stated as he opened the back door.
Ron closed the door fast, and they faced the bricks of the courtyard. Ron summoned his wand, tapped on the bricks, and the wall yielded. They entered Diagon Alley.
"Parchment first," Hermione said, pulled Ron to the Stationary shop.
"Bookcovers?" Hermione asked, hours later in Flourish & Blott's.
"You know, protect my books," Ron said, curling many into his hands.
Hermione uncertain if Ron was lying or not, though he did have a few books in between the wraps.
"Protect them from what?" Hermione said, "You barely touch them."
"When you borrow them," Ron said, his blue eyes on her, ones that made her feel undressed to the soul.
"Let's get back," Hermione said, the eyes of a Justin Finch–Fletchley poster bore down on her.
Hermione carried the stack of books down the stairs, Ron followed, to the counter.
"Four Galleons for the books plus an extra for being you," the male clerk said as he placed their purchases into a bag
"What about us?" Ron asked.
"Flaunting the moratorium against serving you," the clerk said, "Ronald Weasley and the mudblood, one Galleon is my price—today."
Ron handed over his key.
"Insufficient," the clerk said, "Says you only have four available."
"Ron," Hermione said.
"Four will do fine," Ron said, his eyes on the clerk, "Unless you want us making a scene."
"Four will do," the clerk said, "There will not be a next time."
"Understood," Ron said as he took his key back, "Last of those earnings."
"Please leave," the clerk said as Hermione grabbed the sack.
"We'll use your fireplace," Ron said, "Unless you'd like us to be seen leaving."
"Hope you choke on the smoke!" the clerk said.
Ron and Hermione went to the fireplace. Ron grabbed a handful of powder, dropped it in.
"Go!" Ron exclaimed.
"Huh?" Hermione muttered as they spun.
"Brace yourself," Ron said as he fingered the Portkey.
Clasped against her hand, she spotted Ron activating it, and they were pulled away. Room spun after they landed, in Gia's bedroom. Hermione doubled over, aimed for a towel as she puked.
"Sorry about that," Ron said.
Hermione went for the bathroom.
"There she is!" came the holler.
Hermione paused, cousin Mark on the bottom landing leaning against the corner.
"We'd like to see her!" came another shout.
Hermione ignored the urge to clean her teeth, went down the steps. Brown hair, Mark grinned, pointed. Hermione turned, Trenise on a sofa with Aunt Cindy, and Uncle Jarrod stood near Kristen.
"I promised we'd see you," Aunt Cindy said.
"Ta…I guess," Hermione said.
Mark laughed.
"Hello," Ron said as he came down the steps.
"She's found her boyfriend," Mark said.
"Not sure where you had gone," Uncle Jarrod said, "Swore we checked up the stairs."
"Shopping," Hermione said, "A few…school supplies."
"That's good," Aunt Cindy said.
"She's doing fine," Ron said to Aunt Cindy.
"I see, I see," Aunt Cindy said, "School starts for you tomorrow?"
"Tuesday," Hermione said, "Don't worry, only the sixth year, we'll get lost."
Uncle Jarrod groaned.
"Got all your books?" Aunt Cindy asked.
"Who do you take me for?" Hermione asked.
Aunt Cindy laughed.
Hermione and Ron spent time chatting with her relatives for hours, until Aunt Cindy left. Hermione went up the stairs into Gia's bedroom, where everything save her knickers fell to the floor. Hermione walked backward, laid on the bed, and stared at Harry's Puddlemere United Quidditch Robes nailed to the wall above. She spread her legs and arms out, wondered a bit about Harry as she heard the door close.
"Ron?" Hermione asked.
Crushing weight to her wrists and ankles, blue eyes and blond hair showed above her.
"JJ!" Hermione snapped.
"Spent all morning riding in the boot of their car to get here," JJ said.
Hermione felt the touch of his crotch to hers.
"Ow!" JJ muttered, "He just—"
Crash!
"Hermione!" Ron shouted as JJ was pulled back.
"He tried to—" Hermione started.
"She trashed you!" JJ snapped to Ron.
"Everything alright?" Kristen asked, on the landing.
"He's being seen out, now," Hermione said as she stood, "He's not wanted."
"We can handle this," Ron said as he pushed JJ forward.
JJ's bulging crotch in the underwear below the navy blue jumper. Ron held JJ's wrists behind the back.
"If you want to press charges—" Kristen started.
"Lets see how he likes leaving first," Hermione said.
Ron pushed JJ forward, out the door. Hermione followed down the stairs.
"Where—?" JJ started as they reached the bottom.
"Outside," Ron said, opening the heavy front green door, pushed JJ outside.
"Blimey!" JJ said, "It's cold."
"You'll survive," Ron stated.
"I can press—" Kristen said.
"We'll manage," Hermione said as she shut the door, leaving Kristen inside.
"What'd you want to do?" Ron asked.
"You're a witch," JJ said.
"Love her for it," Ron stated.
"Kill me and—" JJ started.
"Nope," Hermione said as her wand leapt into her hand, she pressed its tip against JJ's underwear.
"No!" JJ snapped.
"Crucio!" Hermione whispered.
JJ groaned as he doubled over, his strength ripped his wrists from Ron's grip, the hands covered his front bulge between his legs.
"Hermione!" Ron snapped.
"He tries it again and he loses things," Hermione said, "Or—would you rather we let that woman arrest you on rape charges?"
"No, no," JJ pleaded as he stood, Hermione's wand still aimed at him.
"Get up and go home," Hermione said, "Never approach me again."
"My pants!" JJ stammered.
"Your loss," Hermione said, "Though you won't freeze if you dart straight for the station—Calor!"
"Go!" Ron barked to JJ.
Hands still over the front of his white underwear, JJ went down the road.
"It's well marked!" Hermione shouted.
"Glad you put the ring on your hand," Ron said as he held it.
"Only works if…" Hermione started.
"If it's forced and unwanted," Ron said, "It'll get me too if I pressed."
Ron and Hermione returned to 26 Oak, entered.
"I could've handled—" Kristen started.
"All that paperwork?" Hermione asked.
Ron and Hermione went up the steps, into the bedroom.
"She's right, she could've—" Ron started.
"You know the risk," Hermione said.
"True," Ron said.
Hermione didn't have to speak it, knew the risk the same as Ron, getting her name listed on any report and they may as well take out an advert letting everybody know that Harry could be found sleeping beneath this roof once he returned. They had enough troubles as it was.
"Make it quick," said McGonagall as she entered the Headmaster's office
Sirius Black was there, along with Remus Lupin, in front of the desk that Dumbledore sat behind.
"Ron's requested that I show up tomorrow," Sirius said, "But he's failed to state why."
"You should go," Lupin said, "Could be Ron's manner to hint at where Harry is, or at least will be."
"Ronald might not actually know where Mr. Potter is," Dumbledore said, "However, he is complicit in the conspiracy, a conspiracy to ignore common sense, to disregard the safety of his friend. Perhaps Mr. Weasley erroneously believes he's doing Mr. Potter a favor. Raving madness of a teenager means he's unfit for the Order, though, maybe he'll fall in line once Mr. Potter joins."
"Severus will not go along with this idly," Lupin said.
"Severus knows where his loyalties lie," Dumbledore said.
"My godson!" Sirius snapped.
"Go and do as Ron says," Lupin said, "Be there, tomorrow—did he provide a time?"
"No," Sirius said.
"Best to let them lie in," Lupin suggested.
"If true, then Mr. Potter is lying and cannot be trusted," Dumbledore said, "So, I will have to reconsider…arrangements."
"Albus!" McGonagall said, "I need a moment."
"Excuse us," Lupin said, as he held Sirius' arm, and they left the office.
"Minerva?" Dumbledore asked.
"The Hogwarts Express is approaching Hogsmeade station and Justin Finch–Fletchley is not aboard," McGonagall said, "He's unaccounted for, as feared."
"That too, is disturbing," Dumbledore said, "However, more pressing is the deception Mr. Potter is using, perhaps we need a different approach to helping?"
A puff of green Monday morning, Ron and Hermione stepped out into the atrium of the Ministry for Magic, where a podium on a small stage stood before the security gates into the Ministry itself. Ron stayed to the back of the crowd; a moment later, a pinstripe suit of Percy, who came to stand next to Ron. The Minister, in his sky blue robes, stepped up to the podium.
"I am pleased to announce that the Wizengamot has approved the five point reduction in the value added tax, which will go into effect tomorrow," Fallerschain said, "I have reviewed preliminary designs for the reconstruction of the North Tower at Hogwarts and I have endorsed using the opportunity to add in desperately needed classroom space. Unfortunately, a Werewolf has been caught teaching at Hogwarts in violation of the law; that Werewolf has been stripped of his position and will no longer threaten our precious children."
"Lupin," Ron muttered.
"An anonymous tip–off prompted an inquiry that revealed that Harry Potter is harboring the convicted mass murderer, Sirius Black," the Minister said, "Sirius Black has apparently been involved with Harry Potter for years, and has been able to do so due to Black being an Unregistered Animagus. Black has been exploiting his Animagus form to evade Magical Law Enforcement and the Ministry Aurors since his escape from Azkaban."
"What does Black's Animagus look like?" a reporter asked, "Is Black currently helping Potter create his own brand of Death Eaters?"
"Unfortunately," the Minister stated, "Our informant failed to provide details to Black's Animagus form, or further details of his activities."
"And what of Harry Potter's confession?" a second reporter asked.
Ron caught Hermione's glance at his eyes, as he stared at hers. Legilimency not necessary to know their shared bewilderment, before they returned their gaze back to the Minister.
"I had already told Umbridge that it was inappropriate to issue confessions on Potter's behalf," Fallerschain said, "While I support having Potter take responsibility, confessions must be made by him. It was, however, appropriate to freeze Potter's assets until such time as the committee can manage it on his behalf, perhaps by issuing an allowance and keeping a watchful eye on any purchases he may make."
Ron wondered if Dumbledore was a step ahead on this.
"On a quick note," the Minister said, "Due to personal reasons, Amelia Bones has resigned from her role on the committee. I understand that Rita Skeeter—an avid fanatic of Harry Potter, but also willing to acknowledge his faults, will step into a larger role, assume all the duties that Bones had."
Some applause came from the crowd.
"In the name of Merlin," the Minister said, "May you all enjoy your day!"
Ron and Hermione turned.
"Thanks Percy," Ron said.
"A good time for tea would be five past three," Percy said, "Wouldn't you say?"
Ron caught the glimpse from Percy, the notion of an audit behind those pupils.
"Later," Ron said.
Percy nodded. Ron grabbed Hermione's hand, went for a fireplace on the right.
"Visitor's entrance!" Ron shouted as he dropped Floo Powder.
Ron and Hermione found themselves propelled upward, and crammed into a red telephone box.
"Here?" Hermione asked.
"Thinking we weren't watched?" Ron asked, "Lets go, take the slow way home."
"I know you liked Rotter in the past," Finnigan said to Neville, as they waited for their tea to brew in the temporary Divination classroom, "He's gone sour, bad, and we need to stand up against him."
"Things could be rigged against him," Neville said, "We don't have Harry's full story."
"And we never will, not with Dumbledore in charge," Finnigan said, "And I fear the Ministry is starting to capitualate too—likely excusing Rotter's skipping today."
"Haven't seen him," Neville said.
"Like he bothers to ask before skipping," Finnigan said, "At least those two Aurors will help."
"Aurors?" Neville asked as he measured in the tea leaves.
"Should be here in time to protect us from Rotter," Finnigan said, "Though I doubt two will be enough for how dangerous Rotter is."
"I don't think Harry's as bad as you're making him out to be," Neville said.
"He punched you!" Finnigan said, "Stand too close to him, and you'll rot too, I don't want to see that, you ought to join the Students Against Potter."
Neville shook his head.
"Talk it over with Justin," Finnigan said.
"How?" Neville asked, "Isn't he missing?"
"Exactly," Finnigan said.
"What if you get rid of him and shit's still happening?" Neville asked.
"Thinking expelling will stop him?" Finnigan said, "It won't, but we gotta start there and not stop until everybody's safe."
"What if there really are others doing the deed?" Neville asked.
"It'll suck to be him," Finnigan said.
"As will it suck for us," Neville said, "Consider that before you bury him in Azkaban."
"Even his committee sees the truth," Finnigan said, "As much as they pretend otherwise, Harry Potter is rotten to the core—good riddance when he's gone."
Neville wasn't so sure about that.
Kristen carried the coffee mug into her office.
"I could've done that," Frank said.
"It's mine," Kristen growled.
"Three creams and two sugars, right?" Frank said.
"You know my habits," Kristen said, a light–hearted grin, she needed a bit of a wake up as she sat at her desk.
"What's on your mind?" Frank said.
"I get the feeling the biggest mystery is inside my house," Kristen said, "Ever get that?"
Kristen fingered the photograph, the one of Richard, Jen, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Gia lined up against the snow in their ski clothes.
"Hermione talks as if the school she attends is distant, with a long train ride," Kristen said, "Yet, it's a commute that Harry makes daily, and I'd swear it's like it's to the house next door. Ron's concerned for safety, downright paranoid to not divulge what he knows about Harry or Gia."
"Nutters start early," Frank said, "Likely going to be one spectacular headcase, best to start the file now."
"Harry's had that ASBO, one that spooked him bad enough to propose and vanish—with her," Kristen said, "Hermione's likely in shock, but she picked up a boyfriend in Cardiff and broke it off. Upon return, she hooks back up with Ron, and when that Cardiff boyfriend showed up with intent to rape her, both she and Ron did something to encourage the bloke to simply get on a train and return home."
"I've got a hunch," Frank said, "But it's not civilized."
"That Harry lent Gia his dog—thought it was merely a sign of affection," Kristen said, "Think it's more serious, like Harry's worried about something bad happening to her; I mean, she's always either in his company or the mutt's."
"I was like that with Megan," Frank said, "A dog would've made me feel better."
"After the service, it was Ron who kept me from getting pelted," Kristen said, "Something's…something's off with them, but I can't put my finger on it."
Knock! Knock!
"Kristen Osborn?" asked a lady, swaddled in a neutral gray robes, came in.
"That's me," Kristen said, "Who are you?"
"Amelia Bones," the lady said, "Special liaison from the Home Office to the Police Organized Crime Unit, your eyes only."
"Frank," Kristen said.
"Of course," Frank said.
Kristen wasn't certain if Frank actually closed the door, however, she heard the lock engage.
"Interesting picture," Amelia Bones said as she lifted the framed picture of snow and the six teenagers.
Kristen picked up, not the surprise, but a familiarity with the contents already.
"My son was excited to fly his friends there," Kristen said, "Who is your superior?"
"Albus Dumbledore," Amelia Bones said, "Let's begin because this will concern you."
Amelia Bones brought out a thick file folder.
"Sorry, I tried slimming this down, but it's important," Amelia Bones said as she laid it down on the desk, "An armed terrorist group, known as Death Eaters, may decide to setup operations in your town, and you need to be prepared. If you see one, do not even attempt to apprehend, send word as we've got specialists."
Kristen's felt the same contempt she has felt whenever anybody at the Home office suggested they couldn't do their jobs, that it had to be specialists. Kristen had a generous training budget, she could train anybody up to handle threats, even if she had no volunteers to help out with the new recruits about to begin this week.
"Sometimes they make it easy to spot as they've been known to…use fireworks," Amelia Bones said, "As a signature."
"These sound like hooligans," Kristen said.
"Worse, much much worse," Amelia Bones said, "And you lack the right…talent to handle these."
Kristen didn't like to be insulted, she's not seen a single talent that was more than a stepping stone to an easier time training.
"Is that all?" Kristen asked.
"Dossiers on a few known faces," Amelia Bones said, "Do not underestimate the danger they pose, understood?"
Kristen glared, felt like a child in school.
Amelia Bones stood. "Might want to consider training up your son's friends." Amelia left the office.
Kristen stood, grabbed her jacket, and went for the door.
"Kristen?" Frank asked.
"Need a stroll," Kristen said, "Good day for it, maybe a brawl will cheer me up."
Kristen went outside, into the cold temperatures, her breath billowed out, and she began to walk along the street.
"You seem flustered," Frank said as he caught up.
"Really?" Kristen snapped. "Sorry. You're a good detective, you're not chief. You're not the one that gets reamed when things go wrong, even when you trust the specialists because you're supposed to know better. Trust me, you don't want the position."
Ron watched as an owl dropped the letter into Hermione's hands as they left the station. She opened it as they walked along Station Road in Noigate.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Hermione Jane Granger
I hereby apologize for murdering your parents, sorry this means we can't be friends.
Sincerely,
Harry James Potter.
Hermione wept.
"It's that bloody committee!" Ron stammered, "They were told—"
"Still hurts," Hermione said, "Using my parents—"
"This is what Harry gets to come back to," Ron said as he wrapped his arm around her, "If he's decided to."
"You're not sure?" Hermione asked.
"How could I?" Ron said, "I've not spoken to him since before the suspension, but think like Harry."
"Doh!" Hermione said as she stiffly walked.
"Harry's got better smarts than me," Ron said, "It's not a tall order."
"No," Hermione quipped.
They walked, and it was well into the afternoon when they returned to 26 Oak Street and entered the Osborn's house. Ron climbed the stairs behind Hermione. Across the upper landing, they entered Gia's bedroom. No sooner than Ron entered, did the door close behind him and a hand gripped his shoulder.
"Could've killed you," Sirius said, "Why here?"
Ron spun around, faced him, faced this man in the ragged black suit wistfully holding onto a dream of the past.
"That's for Harry to explain," Ron said, "I suggested coming here, for tonight."
"Moony suggested you might know—" Sirius started.
"Can't help it if you're too thick—" Ron said.
"You ungrateful, insubordinate—" Sirius started.
"Bastard of a Snape—" Ron snapped.
"CAN IT!" Hermione shouted, her wand aimed between the two of them, "Both of you!"
Ron glanced at the clock on Gia's desk, the one that showed a minute to three.
"We've got five minutes," Ron said as he turned to the bookshelf, pulled out the thin book Wards: A How–to–Guide, and the thicker black musty book Ministry: Wards.
"Where—?" Sirius asked, the question obvious to Ron's eyes.
"Sorry—a promise is a promise, you understand that," Ron said, as he flipped through the pages, found the incantation, "But we've got to do this outside."
Ron went back through the door, down the steps. Sirius followed, transformed before Ron opened the front door. Ron went outside. Snuffles darted to the overgrown shrub in the corner of the backyard and transformed.
"You—" Sirius said as Ron handed Harry's wand over to the man.
"Wait!" Ron snapped as he backed over to another corner of the house.
"This will show—" Sirius said.
A tea bag dropped into Ron's outstretched hand from an owl that flew above.
"Now!" Ron exclaimed.
"Jaciotego!" the two said in unison.
Ron and Sirius moved around the house, repeating the enchantment numerous times in the span of several minutes, before they went in through the front door of the house.
"With that," Ron said, "Ministry can't detect magic inside this house—reinforce the attic tomorrow."
"This troubles me," Sirius said as he handed Harry's wand back.
"He's good without it," Ron said as he stowed the wand.
"The mere fact you've got it—" Sirius started.
"He was drunk!" Ron said to Sirius.
"Not a good excuse—" Sirius said.
"You're an adult," Ron said, his eyes on Sirius', "Harry was pissed, he had his Firebolt and her, so figure it out! If you can't—then I pity you, I really do. You can stay here, peacefully, or brood somewhere else!"
Ron went up the stairs.
"I could've helped!" Hermione snapped as soon as Ron closed the door.
"No," Ron said, "That one explicitly called out for wizards, not witches, and Sirius ain't restricted like we are."
"You were being a bit coy," Hermione said, "Percy—"
"Improper Use of Magic Office got a rather intrusive audit," Ron said, "Think they're still picking up the pieces and couldn't be bothered with what we put over the house. Whoever did a vibrating bed charm last week won't be from us."
"That was me at the inn," Hermione said.
"I won't ask," Ron stated.
"No!" came the holler outside the door.
Ron rushed out of the bedroom. Richard and Andy, both feet away from each other, eyes trained on their enemy.
"Do you really want to get me involved?" Ron asked, gazed at Richard's hazel eyes.
"No," Richard said.
Ron turned to Andy.
"Bedrooms—keep it quiet," Ron stated.
Andy turned, went into her green bedroom, while Richard went into his red. Ron went down the steps.
"You resolved that well," Kristen said, from her seat near the fireplace, "Ta."
Kristen turned back to the thick file folder the lap of her sweatpants, where Ron spotted what appeared to be the dark mark.
"What's that?" Ron asked.
"Weekly briefing from the Police Organized Crime Unit," Kristen said as she closed the file folder, "Technically I'm not supposed to take them out of the station, so you didn't see this, but I was too busy today."
Ron sat on the sofa kitty corner from her armchair. Ron spotted her eyes, the ones that seemed a bit overwhelmed, with a touch of resentment.
"Guess they hired a new liaison," Kristen said, "She seemed obligated to tell us everything about these… these Death Eaters, whoever they are."
"From Amelia Bones?" Ron asked.
An intensity came from behind those eyes, the ones that were sizing Ron up.
"How do you know?" Kristen asked as Snuffles came in, laid down. She put her bare feet up on his belly.
"Her brother was killed by one," Ron said, "And I agree, they're dangerous, very dangerous, people who turn murder into sport."
"That's deranged," Kristen said.
"Harry's a thorn in their designs," Ron said, "If you knew any more, I doubt you'd let him leave this house."
"How?" Kristen asked.
"Sorry, secrets act," Ron said.
"Why'd you be covered?" Kristen asked.
"I just am," Ron said, not wanting to go into detail, "So is Harry, so is Hermione. But suffice it to say, I'd wager Harry's troubles at school are caused by them, Death Eaters. They're dangerous and they threaten to kill us all."
Ron watched her eyes, the passion to defend was paramount behind them, as she weighed her options.
"This Bones interrupted a conversation I was having," Kristen said, "If I dressed you up in uniform, you'd match the mannerisms expected, but you're—sixteen, right?"
"Yes," Ron replied.
"I've got a few takers for training," Kristen said, "Self–defense, evening classes twice a week, I offer the opportunity to you."
"Harry?" Ron asked.
"All those that reside under this roof, save Andrea who lacks the maturity to handle it," Kristen said, "Tomorrow evening at seven."
"Thank you," Ron said as he stood, "I'll persuade the others."
Ron turned, went up the stairs. Richard's door was closed, and Ron entered Gia's. A closed door, and Ron glanced at Hermione in lingerie, as she leafed through Ministry: Wards page by page.
"It's more illegal to have than poaching out of the Restricted section," Hermione said, "How—who?"
"Not revealing my source," Ron said as he sat down next to her, "But know you're not stopping."
"No," Hermione said, "How soon until Harry shows up?"
"Dunno," Ron said, "Depends on where he is."
Hoot! Hoot!
Ron stirred, glanced at the clock, a tad past midnight. Hedwig jumped, hooted more.
"Hed—" Ron started, before he glanced at the window himself. Raven black hair, bottle green eyes, and Ron stood. Ron heard Hermione stir as he went over to the window, eyes that read as Ron expected. Ron opened the window.
"Brr…" Hermione muttered beneath the blankets.
Harry on his Firebolt with Gia behind him, her arms wrapped tightly about Harry's waist. Harry moved the handle, flew into the bedroom. Ron closed the window, sealed the freezer outside.
"Harry…?" Hermione groggily muttered.
"Told you," Ron said to her, turned to Harry leaning the Firebolt into the closet, "And you wouldn't believe Dumbledore!"
"Of course he'd freak out," Harry grumbled as he undressed, "Thought you'd be in her bedroom."
"Can't," Ron said, "Her house destroyed, parents are dead."
"Sorry," Harry said, "If we had known—"
"That's what you get with Untrackable!" Hermione snapped.
"You'd know all about that!" Ron snapped at Hermione.
"Please!" Gia said, "He didn't have his wand."
"Should've seen Sirius go bonkers," Ron said as he took out Harry's wand, handed it over.
"Ta," Harry said as he reached to set it on the bookshelf.
"No!" Ron said, his hand gripped Harry's, "Got better."
Ron caught those bottle green eyes, and Ron reciprocated.
"This still works?" Harry thought.
"Yep," Ron replied, "More you want to talk about?"
"In a moment," Harry thought back.
"How was it?" Hermione asked Gia.
"Wonderful," Gia said, "Skiing and more, a swingers resort, so we swung."
"Going great until we had to fly back," Harry said, "Doubt we would've if you were there."
"Let you two…" Ron said before he pulled Harry out, into the bathroom.
Ron shut the door, leaned back against the sink, his head sunk a bit to level off with Harry's.
"This is protected by a Fidelius Charm," Ron said as he brought out the black loop of dragon hide, "Wasn't certain if you wanted to divulge it to Gia—she doesn't need to know."
"What's that?" Harry asked.
Ron lifted Harry's right wrist, put it on, and slid the wand to face forward.
"Holster, courtesy of Mr. Ollivander," Ron said, "Wandless summon to get your wand, banish to put it back, practice it until you're good."
Ron demonstrated his own, the wand that jumped out, returned.
"Yours, mine, and Hermione's—different colors, but they'll protect and hide our wands," Ron said, "Nobody else should know we even have them, so be ready with the excuses."
"Neat," Harry said, as his wand jumped out and he instinctively grabbed the hilt.
"Hermione had more difficulty," Ron said.
"Not in a book," Harry said as he banished the wand.
"No more laying it around, unguarded," Ron said.
"Funny enough," Harry said, "Had one show up there—not mine, but nice to know it was available, if needed."
Harry practiced with the wand. Ron caught the sentiment though, as Harry abruptly stopped, wand stowed.
"Harry?" Ron asked.
Harry's eyes betrayed the gaze, the ones that focused between the legs.
"It's…" Harry drifted off.
"Getting worse?" Ron asked as he fingered Harry's scar.
"Yes and no," Harry said, "Passionate for her, and yes, I can defend—but it's a struggle."
Harry yawned. Harry moved, Ron followed, back into Gia's bedroom. Harry climbed onto the bed.
"Glad you're alright," Hermione said.
"Won't satisfy Dumbledore," Ron muttered.
"Him?" Harry said, "Last person I want to see."
"They spent my entire holiday hounding me about where you might be," Ron said, "I burned that printout so I didn't know."
"Did they do anything else?" Harry asked.
"Not that I could tell," Ron replied, before giving an abbreviated version of the pressure on Dumbledore.
"Can't believe they FELL for it!" Harry stammered.
"Fell?" Hermione asked.
"Keep Dumbledore distracted on me," Harry said, "Meanwhile—meanwhile they carry on with their plans."
"You're getting a lot, aren't you?" Hermione said, "Through your—"
"Enough to know if they were getting close," Harry said, "Nope, but Wormtail's in the Ministry."
"Explains the tip–off," Hermione said before she started into the press conference.
"Could you not ruin things so soon?" Harry said, "It's supposed to be school in the morning—if…as long as it's not too bad."
Ron yawned.
"Need the rest," Ron said, "Signed us up for evening lessons—"
"Hermione?!" Harry demanded of Ron.
"Kristen offered spots in some training," Ron said, "Muggle techniques of self–defense, figure it'd be good to learn how to fight without our wands."
"No wand work?" Hermione muttered.
Harry chuckled.
"Sleep!" Gia pleaded.
Ron pulled the duvet as Harry's feet landed on Ron's. Ron felt better, back to as normal as they'd experience for a long time to come, and went back to sleep.
[A/N: This version is being abandoned, nothing but bots stealing it here (about the crux of it). Find it on AO3. - DV, 18 Sept 2021 ]