So I know you're all pretty excited about the upcoming heist. So am I! I've never thought about robbing a government building before. It was definitely a missed opportunity for me back in the day. I totally could have done it too. I don't mean to brag, but I used to be a pretty cute kid. I still am, I suppose, but these days, I'm considered less cute and more insane, weird, and stylish. All of these things I bear with pride, but none of them are especially helpful for robbing a government office. But years ago, I could have done it and no one would have suspected me because I was so cute.

But I digress. I've been staying with the Granger parents while the adults plan the various details of the heist. I've been banned from participating in the planning after I suggested flooding the Ministry of Magic with rubber balls as a distraction. I still stand by that idea. The Drs. Granger have also been sidelined for wanting to flood the Ministry, but with sarin gas instead of rubber balls. Needless to say, no one wanted to sign up on the whole mass murder plan, not even Dacted. Though she contemplated it for a few seconds, which definitely doesn't bode well. So the Drs. Granger and me have been stuck on the sidelines, hoping desperately that we can get back the person we care so much about, even if in their case, they can't remember her.

I had thought it would be pretty awkward staying with Hermione's parents, especially since they don't remember me either. And I'm not going to lie, things have been a little awkward. They're filled with questions about Hermione I just…largely don't know the answers to. Hermione's a pretty private person and I'm…not exactly the most socially aware. Don't get me wrong, I know some of the answers, like her favorite movie (Blade Runner) or her favorite type of tea (she's a fanatical devotee of green tea), but I can't tell them anything, largely, about how she spent most of her life, because I wasn't there.

But overall, the three of us get along pretty well. I think they enjoy spending time with someone they don't have to hide their…darker sides around. They like hearing stories about Hermione. I got to tell them all about her first Quidditch match, one of her proudest achievements, all over again, and it was like I was there again the first time. Actually, I had to get Ron to give me a play by play because I couldn't focus the first time around. I missed a lot. But don't tell them that. They'll never know…unless they read this blog entry, of course. But come on, what's the likelihood of them doing that?

The heist plans are continuing slowly but steadily. I don't like the idea of waiting, especially since Hermione's trial is going to happen in three weeks, just before our return to Hogwarts. But we're only going to have one chance and it's not like we're just sitting around twiddling our thumbs. We are working hard, doing reconnaissance and planning the heist to the last detail. It helps to have a department head (albeit one that's basically at the bottom of the Ministry pecking order) and an Auror on our side. I'm still shocked Hestia is helping us out. She's otherwise fanatically devoted to law and order and not doing things like, you know, heists and blackmail. She says she thinks she owes it to Mum to help us out. I'd like to think Mum would have approved of what we're doing, but I don't believe it and neither does Remus.

Don't worry, though. When the heist occurs, you'll get a full report after we're hopefully successful. In the meantime, I'm keeping details off the blog on the off-chance anyone at the Ministry might be reading it. Though I can't imagine they would even know how. Hestia barely even knows what a computer is.

On the bright side, we finally made enough noise to get Ms. Cheatham to see Hermione. But that's pretty much the limits of the good news on that front. Hermione is in bad shape. She wasn't lucid at all, tossing and turning on her bed and muttering to herself, occasionally twitching violently in her sleep. It's not because of Dementor exposure according to Ms. Cheatham, but all that means is that she has some very bad unknown affliction instead of a very bad known one. I don't mind telling you that for a second, I was tempted to endorse the Grangers' plans to destroy the Ministry were it not for the fact Hermione was being held in a cell inside the Ministry.

Now you might be asking yourself, if Hermione's being held inside the Ministry, why not just do a jailbreak when we break in? Well, we'd prefer it if Hermione wasn't a fugitive. It's no kind of life for anyone. They'll send Dementors after her. Hestia fears they'll even send them to Hogwarts in case she would show up there. I think that's ridiculous. No members of any government, no matter how odious, would send soul sucking creatures to the school where all their children are. If we had no other choice, we'd resort to breaking Hermione out, but I still believe our plan is going to work.

We've been so busy planning the heist I almost forgot something pretty darn important. My birthday! I'm twelve today! A part of me feels bad about celebrating when Hermione is going through such an ordeal, but I know very well Hermione would think that's stupid and be disappointed in me. I have literally faced down two of the most powerful mages in the world and neither scares me more than being the recipient of Hermione's disappointed face. So I put on a brave face and joined in for the party.

Birthdays were always a mixed bag of feelings for me back at the Dursleys. On the one hand, it was a year closer to my long awaited ambitions of freedom, of having a room that wasn't a cupboard, of my fish and chip shop. On the other hand, it was always pretty miserable and depressing. The Dursleys always gave me the most pathetic gifts imaginable. If they didn't give me anything, I could have just thought they'd forgotten my birthday, but giving me a clod of dirt or a battery (I personally thought they hoped I would swallow it) was a message they could have done something nice for me but chose not to. Especially when you compared it to Mr. 37 Presents, the oaf Dudley himself. I didn't want 37 presents, of course, but just one nice present would have been great.

Eh, I don't like thinking about the past. The present is a gift. That's why it's called the present. Or at least that's what the fortune cookie at the Chinese restaurant we all ate lunch at said. I had an absolutely amazing birthday, even if it was far stranger than anyone I could imagine. Last year, I never could have come close to foreseeing the birthday I'd have and especially not the people I'm spending it with. An actual friend? A guardian who loves me? None of this seemed remotely plausible back then. Yet I still couldn't help but feel sad Hermione wasn't around to share it with me. I miss her.

We spent most of the day at the British Museum. Now I know what you're going to say. Yes, it definitely acquired a good chunk of its collection unethically. We're not going to wade into that debate. As someone scheduled to participate in a heist, I don't have much of a moral high ground to stand on about stolen things at the moment. Perhaps later I'll talk about it more, but I doubt it. I'll have probably moved onto something else.

I wanted to show my magical friends just how rich a history Muggles have. Mr. Weasley is great, he truly is, but sometimes he thinks of Muggles as being like children. Very advanced children, prodigies really, but still children. I think he's just a product of his time, really. Hestia isn't very interested in Muggles and sometimes goes deliberately out of her way to avoid talking about them, but she still regards them as being equal, more or less. (I think a part of the reason she doesn't like talking about Muggles is because they remind her of Mum.) Anyway, I hoped seeing the thousands of years of artifacts on display at the museum might allow me to gently nudge some sense into Mr. Weasley. Did I succeed? Who knows? But he had fun, so it wouldn't have been a total loss even if I failed.

Ron was bored to tears, but that wasn't much of a surprise. History is not his thing. He thinks Binns is boring! Boring, I say! Ridiculous! But the important thing about being friends is you have to accept their little quirks and foibles and, sometimes, outright delusions like Binns being a bad teacher. The dude is a visionary. But even though Ron didn't enjoy himself, he actually made an effort to try and that means more to me than I can say. I don't know what I ever did to deserve having a good friend like Ron.

The Grangers seemed to be in their element, but still a bit sad, no doubt thinking of all the fun times they had with Hermione in places like this they could no longer remember. I hope they'll be able to get back their memories one day. I still can't fathom what kind of person would just rip one of the most important pillars of someone's existence from them. And we still have no idea why that happened. Or what whoever did it will do next. Hestia is terrified one of the Obliviators have gone rogue. A rogue Obliviator, a person with the ability and willingness to alter memories on a whim, can be a nearly unstoppable threat. We think the Dark Lady before Grindelwald attained power through memory alterations, but we're not entirely sure because, again, memory alterations. I think Hestia is only going along with the heist plans to get an opportunity to try and hunt down the Obliviator.

As for me, though, I had such a good time. It was the first time I was able to go to a museum with my friends instead of through ditching school, hacking into Vernon's email to send a sick note to the school, bribing a random stranger at the museum to pretend to be my dad, and then being led away by the cops after the stranger called the police about the strange kid who bribed them. I suppose that was one time when Hagrid's interference benefited me. At any rate, being at that museum meant a lot to me.

We had the most incredible dinner over at the Burrow. I just find it so incredible I have multiple places now where I'm welcome. Ron's brother Charlie even happened to be in town and showed up for the dinner. He's the one who works with dragons and I promptly interrogated him with such intensity and ferocity Hestia thought my skills could have been put to good use in the Auror department. Of course all that meant Charlie suddenly remembered a "prior appointment" and had to depart. I'd feel guilty about driving him off on any other day, but I'm the birthday boy, so I've decided I'm just not going to be doing that.

And I got presents! Actual presents, not just a rock. And it wasn't even a nice looking rock. But I got attached to that rock. I called him Rocky. (I was not very creative when I was five.) Then Dudley stole it and I never saw it again. Damn it, I miss that rock. One day, I'll find it again and return it to its rightful place of honor at my side.

Um, anyway, as I was saying, presents. The Drs. Granger gave me a book of legends from British folklore. They didn't know how many of them were based on reality (probably very few) but it was as close to a magical gift as they, being Muggles, could give. Ron gave me a DVD of Revenge of the Sith. I may have seen it a thousand times, but the fact Ron was willing to venture into the unfamiliar Muggle world and give it to me meant the world. The Weasley parents gave me a wonderful sweater – it really made me feel like a part of the family. Remus gave me a copy of Hogwarts: A History. I didn't tell him I already got it last year as a Christmas present from Hermione. Having a guardian who loves me enough to get me a real gift was the real present. Even Hestia gave me a very nice watch.

I was feeling pretty darn good about myself when I went to bed that night. Then out of nowhere in the middle of the night, I woke up to see one of the ugliest creatures I've ever seen over my bed. He looked like the child of Yoda and Gollum. "Harry Potter," the creature said in a high pitched voice which made my ears hurt. "At last we meet."

"Ugh, my dreams are the weirdest," I complained.

"Harry Potter is not dreaming," the creature said. "Dobby is Dobby's name. Dobby is a house elf."

I shot straight upwards in my bed. I had spent a good hour or so reading through the book of folklore the Grangers had given me and it had told me a lot about elves. They were, according to the book, not like the benign creatures out of Peter Pan or Lord of the Rings. They were inveterate tricksters, with a morality only occasionally intersecting ours. Even when they tried to do good, they often ended up causing harm. And when they tried to do evil, well, Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty was a tame example of what could happen. I had to tread very, very cautiously. The slightest errant phrase could lead to utter disaster.

"Ishtaran!" I called out. The best defense, I had decided, was a good offence.

Ishtaran instantly leapt out of my pocket and jumped straight towards Dobby, who snapped his fingers. Ishtaran fell to the floor, inert. "Fear not, Harry Potter," Dobby said in a solemn tone. "He merely sleeps and will awaken when Dobby departs. Dobby has come to warn the great Harry Potter. He must not return to Hogwarts. Terrible things approach. And Harry Potter could very well be the lynchpin of catastrophe if he returns." This guy didn't know how to use first or second person pronouns, but knew what a lynchpin was? I call BS. I don't know what a lynchpin is!

I opened my mouth to lie to Dobby I wouldn't return to Hogwarts, but I stopped myself in time. For all I knew, such a thing could magically force me never to return. I needed more info. "What's going to happen at Hogwarts?"

"Terrible things…"

I groaned. Getting straight answers from a fae was like getting water from a stone. But I've done more unlikely things before. "I bet you're too chicken to give me details."

"Dobby fears nothing except eggplants," Dobby announced. He shuddered. "They just look wrong!"

"I think there are some eggplants in the refrigerator downstairs," I bluffed.

Dobby shuddered. "Dobby has to say, the great Harry Potter doesn't play fair."

"Hey, no one ever called me the fair Harry Potter." I don't think anyone ever called me the great Harry Potter before, but then again, I am famous so it's entirely possible. "Some answers, please?"

Dobby's eyes darted back and forth as if expecting hidden enemies to be watching him. I hoped he was right. The enemy of my enemy was my friend and anyone who breaks into my house is my enemy. "Dobby cannot disobey the orders of his master," Dobby said pointedly. "Dobby is a house elf and a house elf serves his master. If the great Harry Potter only knew who Dobby's master was…" Then I could know who was behind the plot, whatever it was, I finished in my head.

"Who is your master, Dobby?" I asked, trying to keep my voice kind and understanding. I could tell Dobby was starting to get afraid. Yes, I'm still wary of him – with good reason – but that didn't mean I couldn't be kind to him.

Dobby opened his mouth several times and then punched a wall in frustration. He must have been forbidden from telling me.

"Dobby cannot say. But Dobby can say…Master was a servant of the Dark Lord!" So a Death Eater, then. Lovely. "The plot may cause the Dark Lord to return!"

I shook my head. "Dobby, Voldemort –" Dobby let out a high pitched shriek. "Professor Sinistra blasted You Know Who into space. He's never coming back, not in our lifetime anyway."

"Not all of the Dark Lord may return…"

"I think we can handle it if it's just his head, thanks, Dobby."

Dobby looked frustrated. I couldn't blame him. It must have been frustrating for him to be under such a restrictive geas. "Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!"

Hmm. Could I use this to my advantage? "Harry – I mean, I won't return to Hogwarts if you can get Hermione cleared of the charges against her. While she's still alive," I hastily added, a terrifying vision of Dobby deciding to get Hermione pardoned posthumously by killing her violently suddenly appearing in my head.

Dobby bowed his head in shame. "Dobby cannot interfere with his master's plans." Well, that certainly was a useful piece of information. Not just a Death Eater, but one who had been responsible for getting Hermione in prison. And someone who'd just risen to the top of my shit list.

"Dobby will give Harry Potter the letters his friend sent him if he does not return to Hogwarts," Dobby offered. I should have known something sinister was behind Ron not writing. I just assumed no one had given him my address.

"No deal," I said at once. "I don't need them anymore."

Dobby suddenly looked at me with a much more menacing look than he had at any point in the conversation. "The Great Harry Potter must beware. Dobby's master has told him to make sure the Great Harry Potter dies permanently." My blood went cold. "The last time Dobby was ordered to kill someone, Dobby resuscitated them with CPR," Dobby explained. "Now Master is more careful. And so is Dobby."

The door slammed open and Emmet ran into the room with a pistol. As soon as he saw Dobby, he fired the gun at him. But Dobby stopped the bullet before it could even reach him and it turned into sand. "Remember Dobby's words. All of them." And with that, he disappeared.

"What was that thing?" Emmet demanded. He looked incredibly disturbed. He'd seen magic in action before, but this was his first real piece of proof there was a real magical world out there, not just people casting spells.

"A clue," I said contemplatively.

Ishtaran opened his eyes. My head hurt, he complained. Stupid elves.

I have to get to bed. Remember, people, early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy, wealthy, wise, and better at pulling heists! Benjamin Franklin said that and you know how many times he got caught pulling a heist? That's right. Zero. I rest my case.

The time for the heist has arrived. The responsible adults tried to convince me and Ron to stay home but we didn't bite. As I pointed out to them, there was no way I was going to stay at home and let everyone I cared about put themselves at risk. Also, my celebrity status might persuade people to pull their punches if we got caught. We met Dacted in front of the British Library. Then Mrs. Weasley magically took away her vision and her hearing so she couldn't know where the Ministry was.

The visitor entrance…did not look like much. A dark dingy alley with a payphone. I wonder what the Ministry would do when London got rid of all its payphones. Probably just keep the darn thing and it'd become a tourist attraction if I knew the Ministry. Like the Tardis, the phone was bigger on the inside and it magically expanded when we all got in. I wonder if that's where Doctor Who got the idea from. Mr. Weasley punched in the numbers 62442 (magic, very subtle, Ministry) and an automated voice asked us what our business there was. We all said our names (Dacted used a fake name) and said we were tourists. Then the box turned into an elevator and started going down.

It was only then that we restored Dacted's senses. She glared ferociously at us, but she must have known she was outnumbered and surrounded by people who largely despised her, so she didn't make a fuss beyond that. "Anything you want to say, Rachel?" Remus asked calmly. Pro tip: Don't make Remus calm. You won't like him when he's calm.

"It's foolish to treat me as an enemy," Dacted complained. "We should be united against a greater threat."

"You're here," I reminded her. "I think that's more unity than you deserve, really. But, hey, you'll be helpful. We could use a good human shield." Dacted glared at me. "Hey, at least you're not in a cupboard under the stairs, right?"

"Harry, focus," Hestia said softly. Right. Dacted was right in a sense. We were doing this for Hermione. I had to put aside my animosity against Dacted…for now.

The elevator reached its destination. We ended up in a large hall with fireplaces lining the walls. It seemed very incongruous until I remembered mages travel through fireplaces (more on that at another time). The ceiling was blue with various golden symbols moving across it. In the middle of the room was a fountain with statues surrounding it. The statute of a wizard was most prominent, with statues of a witch, centaur, goblin, and house elf looking at him with awe. Sexist and paternalist, much?

"Well, I think that really tells you all you need to know about this civilization, don't you?" Danielle pointed out.

Hestia scowled. "We've come a long way since the days this statute was commissioned. In some ways, women have more rights than the Muggle world – there are strict laws to ensure equal pay, for example. As for the other species…well, okay, we're not perfect. But don't try to tell me the Muggle world is. We've all got a long road to walk." Danielle shrugged, looking unconvinced.

We all made our way to the end of the hall where a security guard was waiting. "Wands," he said flatly.

"Hey, Eric," Hestia said with a wave. "Mind letting us go through. They're with me."

"Rules are rules, Auror Jones," Eric said. "You know that better than anyone. Wands."

I tensed, waiting to see what excuse the Grangers and Dacted would pull for not having wands. But instead, much to my surprise, the Grangers actually pulled out wands and handed them over to Eric, who registered them with no emotion on his face. Hestia must have gotten them spares.

"I must have left mine at home," Dacted said with such confidence even I believed it for a second.

Unfortunately, Eric didn't look at all convinced. "You don't have your wand?" he asked with the same incredulity he would probably say if Dacted had said she left her head at home.

"My sister hasn't been all that right in the head ever since the accident," Emmet said in a stage whisper. Eric nodded while Dacted directed a glare that could have melted steel if she had laser eyes, which I really, really hope she doesn't. Wait, can I get laser eyes through magic? That sounds awesome…though also kind of scary. I'm going to put that on my to do list.

After that little hiccup, Eric waved us through. The Obliviators were part of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, which covered things like the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, the Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee, and coolest sounding of all, the Invisibility Task Force. Much to my disappointment, the Invisibility Task Force was not in charge of developing invisibility spells. (Which, I mean, given my Invisibility Cloak, was a pretty logical assumption, right?) Instead, it focuses on making sure key magical places are hidden from Muggles. Given the fact the Grangers slipped into the Ministry effortlessly, I'm not all that convinced they're very good at their jobs. Nonetheless, they keep places like Hogwarts off the maps literally.

Now you'd think Mr. Weasley's job as head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office would go under that umbrella, but it's under the umbrella of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement instead. So I was a little worried people might notice when he showed up on a completely different floor from his office. But so far, no one was giving any of us, let alone him,

"This is disgusting," Dacted complained as we traversed the third floor corridors. "We've tripped no alarms, we've encountered no guards, absolutely nothing."

"You say that like it just happened," Hestia shot back, her voice filled with hate. "If you only knew how many laws I've had to bend and even break to make all this happen." She closed her eyes, looking like she was almost in mourning. "I take my responsibilities as an Auror seriously. I swore an oath to protect and serve the innocent and punish the guilty. To follow the law! You know nothing of the law, Dacted."

Dacted suddenly lashed out and slammed Hestia against the nearest wall. "I know nothing of the law? We're in the middle of the headquarters of a rebel government. There's no legal basis for anything in this building! You don't pay taxes, you don't follow our laws, you make your own rules! You have a department dedicated to violating the minds of our citizenry. We are the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. You don't stop being our subjects just because you're born with magic! Your law is a farce."

"That's enough!" Emmet said. "Now it's clear we're not going to get along as a unified team. So we're going to split up. Harry, you, Dacted, Danielle, and Remus will comprise one team. I'll lead the other team along with the Weasleys and Auror Jones. Is that agreeable?"

That was fine with me. I wanted to get some payback on Dacted. I'm sure Danielle wouldn't lift a finger to help her and maybe I could persuade Remus to look the other way. Everyone else reluctantly agreed. In the end, it was probably best we didn't have too large a group. People might ask questions.

With the advent of modern technology, the Obliviators were soaking up funding like a sponge as magic became more and more difficult to hide from people. Back in the day, it was a simple matter of Obliviating all the witnesses. Now their video had to be discredited as well. Their offices took up the bulk of the third floor. And…as loathe as I am to agree with Dacted about anything, I was starting to think she may have had a point about the Ministry. The idea of these people out there in the Muggle world, playing with people's minds with little to no restrictions…it chilled me to the bone. Hestia may have been devoted to the law, but the law hadn't stopped the Obliviators from attacking – and, yes, it was an attack – the Grangers. These people needed to be reigned in. They needed oversight. They weren't getting it.

People definitely would have asked questions about why a kid was in the Obliviator offices…if I wasn't under my Invisibility Cloak. Dacted had special infiltration training, no doubt, and Danielle…uh, she definitely has no experience in that sort of thing. None at all. I'm not acting suspicious. You're acting suspicious! And Remus had a calm, cool air of authority which seemed to translate universally to looking like he had the right to be just about anywhere.

So all in all the infiltration seemed to go pretty smoothly. Dacted seemed to know exactly where she was going, which is pretty darn suspicious now that I think about it. She has to have someone inside the Ministry. I had no clue who it could be. It could have been someone high ranking, but it could just as easily have been a janitor. Either way, she led Remus and Danielle straight into the records room. We started pulling open drawers, trying to make sense of the organizational system. It was imperative to find out who had obliviated the Grangers now that we knew a Death Eater was the mastermind behind the plot.

Suddenly, something very sharp stuck into my upper back, near the base of my neck. "Don't do anything to indicate anything is wrong," Dacted – of course – whispered. I went for my wand, but it was gone. Dacted was holding it to my neck.

"Have you forgotten you're a Muggle, Dacted?" I whispered back. "You can't cast any spells with that thing. It's just a stick to you."

"It's a very sharp stick to me," Dacted said, "and if I shove it into your spinal column, you'll be just as dead as if I used a Killing Curse. Find some excuse to leave now."

"Why would they let me be alone with you?" I demanded. I winced as the wand started to break the flesh of my skin. "Okay!"

I looked over at Remus. "Hey, Dad, Dacted thinks there's a storage closet down the hall where they're hiding some stuff." I prayed Remus would realize something was wrong by me calling him dad all of a sudden. I think we'll be there eventually, but that moment hadn't come yet. Unfortunately, he seemed too elated to hear those words to realize anything is wrong.

"Okay, but be quick about it." I reluctantly allowed Dacted to drag me off. "Did you hear that, Danielle?" I could hear Remus say as we departed. "He called me Dad!"

My heart was thundering in my chest as Dacted led me…out of the Obliviation department entirely. Where were we going? I had no clue. But I knew why we were going there. "So what's in the box?"

It was a testament to Dacted's professionalism, even if she used it in the service of evil, that she barely twitched at all. "What box?"

"You know, the box you told us while you were under Veritaserum," I said with a cocky grin. Maybe it was stupid of me to give away we knew that, but I wasn't overflowing with other options.

Dacted returned my wand to her side. I almost relaxed, but then she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me with the other hand. "What else did I tell you?" she snarled.

"Nothing much," I said in my most insolent tone. "Just that you've been getting help from a certain potions master. Colm O'Neill ring any bells?"

Dacted's eyes glittered with malice. "Mr. O'Neill has been particularly helpful. You shouldn't have betrayed him, Harry. Betrayal begets betrayal. Now move!"

Dacted led me through the labyrinthine halls to the Invisibility Task Force offices. She let out a muffled series of swears as she saw the offices, contrary to what must have been his expectations, were filled with people. An old man, maybe about eighty or ninety, headed over in our direction, moving as slowly as you'd expect from someone his age. "That's the head of the department, Keith Egan Yancey. The box is in his office."

"Give me my wand back and I'll get you the box."

"You must be out of your mind," Dacted hissed.

"Yes, but that's beside the point. I care about my life more than I care about the box. You can shoot me if you want, but you can't shoot all these people before they get you. I can get you the box. You can't get you the box. It's a no brainer. And you still have the gun. You can shoot me if I betray you. But unlike you, I keep my promises. All of them."

Dacted let out a frustrated snarl, but she handed back my wand anyway just as Yancey showed up. "Well, this is indeed a surprise," Yancey said, giving me a firm handshake. I was relieved he didn't seem alarmed to see me. After that hatchet job in the Prophet, I was worried people would be running screaming from me. "What brings Harry Potter to my humble department? And who might you be, young lady?"

"Oh, this is Auror Jones's sister Rachel," I said glibly. I leaned against someone's desk and idly drummed an SOS signal in Morse code on the desk. It didn't work. Of course it didn't work. Mages never had telegraphs; they never even knew about the SOS signal. "Hestia's been showing me around the Ministry. Though we seem to have gotten quite turned around! I haven't seen her lately! Oh, gee, I hope she'll be all right."

Dacted looked quietly impressed. I didn't care what that hateful woman thought of me. As far as I was concerned, she deserved to die. "Yes, Hestia has always had a terrible sense of direction."

"Mr. Yancey, sir, I've always been curious what a department head's office looks like," I said with my patented "harmless child" look. "I know you're a busy man…"

"Never too busy to spare a moment for the boy who rid us of He Who Must Not Be Named!" Yancey said jovially. "Come, come, and bring Ms. Jones here as well."

Yancey led both of us down a narrow hallway to his office. I wondered if I should just rush Dacted, but being shot really did not appeal to me. Right now, she had the cards. And the gun. Which was the same thing, but still. "The Invisibility Task Force may be one of the smaller offices in the department, but we play a vital role in protecting the magical world."

"That's absolutely right," Dacted said with a sudden cruel smile. "If your efforts could somehow be bypassed, Muggle satellites would be able to detect magical sites. Imagine the consequences. Imagine the carnage that would incur if, for instance, a cruise missile was fired at Hogwarts. A generation cut down…just like that." She snapped her fingers. I couldn't help but let out a squeak. If that was Dacted's plan and what was in the box would help her accomplish it…we were all sitting ducks. Change of plans. I couldn't let her get whatever was in the box.

"Indeed, indeed," Yancey said, completely oblivious to how blatantly suspicious Dacted was. He started prattling away about the various functions of his office. I wouldn't have paid attention even if I wasn't being held hostage.

"The box, Harry," Dacted whispered. "How are we going to get the box?"

I rolled my eyes. "You would have made a terrible Slytherin, agent. Watch and learn."

I stood up from my chair and then dramatically fell to the floor. I started thrashing around a little bit like I'd seen Dacted do under Veritaserum. "Rachel, I need my pills," I wheezed. "Get a medic!"

"I'll stay with him in case he goes into shock," Dacted said, improvising quickly. "Go, hurry!"

Yancey hurried out of his office with surprising skill for someone who was so old. "I think I bought us five minutes, tops," I warned her. "I can't buy you any more."

Dacted quickly removed a painting from the wall. There was a safe behind it and she placed what looked like an ordinary piece of chewing gum on the lock. She hurried over to the other end of the room and pressed a button on the remote control. A hole was blasted through the lock and the safe swung open. The box inside was surprisingly small, not too much bigger than someone's hand. "Finally," she breathed.

"So I guess this is where you start to monologue about your evil plans?"

Dacted laughed. "Oh, Harry, you've seen too many movies." She pulled out her gun, aimed it at my chest, and pulled the trigger. It felt like one of Dudley's punches – someone as big as one of him can pack quite a punch – but ten times worse. All the breath was knocked out of me. I started feeling dizzy and I only hazily noticed as Dacted walked out of the room as cool as can be. I looked down at my chest, at the bullet wound I knew was there, and I saw blood flowing out of a hole. It felt unreal. Like it was happening to someone else. I couldn't quite connect what I was experiencing with the undeniable fact I'd been shot.

"Harry!" Hestia shouted. I looked up, blearily, at Hestia. When had she shown up? Had a moment passed or an hour since Dacted shot me? Yancey must have run into her in the hallway. "Give us some space!"

Yancey quickly led Hestia into the room and shut the door behind him. Thankfully, Hestia managed to block him from seeing that I'd been shot instead of still suffering from the ailment I'd faked earlier. "Dacted got the box," I said, barely able to get the words out. Even breathing was hard.

"Don't say anything; save your strength," Hestia instructed me. "This isn't my first encounter with gunshot wounds. With any luck…" She examined the wound. "Yes. Good. Exit wound. It looks like the bullet went straight through." She started casting spells I wasn't familiar with. "I'm cleaning up the area so you don't get infected. "I'm going to cauterize the wound and it's going to hurt very bad. It won't last too long."

Pain lanced through every corner of my body as Hestia cauterized my bullet wound with basically a fire spell. Honestly, those words are insufficient, but they're the best I've got. Hestia then proceeded to close the wound. "Okay, that should do it. We should get you to a doctor soon, but this should do for long enough to get out of here at least. Don't feel bad about Dacted getting the better of you. She's a trained agent and you're eleven."

"Twelve," I snarled.

"I stand corrected," Hestia said wryly. "We've got what we came for – the name of the Obliviator as well as enough leverage to probably overthrow this administration and then the next one. Let's get out of here."

I followed Hestia out of the office. After she made our excuses to Yancey, we high tailed it over towards the elevator. Moving still hurt a little, but I'd recover in time. "I'm so sorry, Harry," Danielle said. "I never should have let you leave with her."

"We can attach blame when we're home free," Hestia said briskly.

Our heist team walked into the elevator. Multiple people were praying under their breaths as the elevator returned to the atrium. But whoever they were praying to must not have been listening. Our luck ran out. When the doors opened, alarms were blaring throughout the building and scattered gunfire could be heard in the distance. And most alarmingly of all, a group of more than twenty Aurors were pointing wands straight at us.

There was only one possible option left. I pulled out my wand. "No, Harry, do not do that!" Hestia shouted. "Stand down!"

"Don't hurt anyone too badly, Harry," Remus said.

"I promise, Remus," I said and meant it. I pressed the wand against my temple and screamed "ANYONE MOVES AND THE BOY WHO LIVED GETS IT!"