Hermione made her way down the snow-dusted path that led from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade, her breath forming small puffs of steam in the crisp winter air. The village was still decked out in festive cheer, with garlands and twinkling lights strung between the quaint shops. But Hermione's mind was far from the merriment around her; it was firmly focused on the mission ahead. She pulled her cloak tighter, bracing herself against the chill as she approached the meeting point Dumbledore had arranged.
She spotted them before they noticed her—two identical figures standing casually outside the Three Broomsticks, sharing a laugh that carried in the cold air. Gideon and Fabian Prewett, the twin brothers Dumbledore had assigned to escort her. With their fiery red hair, matching broad grins, and a cheeky sparkle in their eyes, they were so alike it was impossible to tell them apart at first glance. The resemblance to Fred and George was uncanny, right down to the easy confidence in their stance and the mischievous tilt of their smiles.
"Oi, there she is!" one of them called, catching sight of her and waving her over. His voice carried the same infectious energy she had grown to associate with the Weasley twins. The other mirrored the gesture with a wide grin that was almost indistinguishable from his brother's.
"The lovely Miss Delacour, I presume?" the second twin said, his voice laced with playful charm. "Dumbledore said we'd be meeting someone important, but he failed to mention you'd be quite this mysterious. We're delighted to be your escorts for the day."
Hermione couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of warmth at their easy banter. It was like looking at Fred and George through a time-tinged mirror. "Mina, please, I hope I'm not too much trouble," she said, slipping into their cheerful rhythm.
"Nonsense!" exclaimed the first twin, clapping a hand on her shoulder in a brotherly gesture that made Hermione's heart clench with unspoken emotion. She also noticed the watch on his wrist that would in her future belong to Harry after his seventeenth birthday, identifying the twin as Fabian. "Trouble is our bread and butter. You just leave the troublemaking to us and we'll get along famously."
They set off together, the Prewett brothers flanking Hermione like a pair of jovial bodyguards. Their easy carefree attitude made the journey to the Ministry feel less daunting. Hermione couldn't help but notice the way they bantered back and forth, finishing each other's sentences, and trading quips that made the journey fly by. It was uncanny how much they reminded her of Fred and George, and she couldn't stop herself from seeing echoes of the future in their every move. She silently vowed to do everything in her power to ensure they got to see their nephews grow up.
"Fabian, did you remember to bring the blasted map?" Gideon teased, elbowing his brother in the side.
"Of course, I did! What do you take me for, an amateur?" Fabian shot back, pulling a crumpled bit of parchment from his pocket. "See? Everything under control."
"Except for that time you left it in the loo at the Leaky," Gideon retorted with a wink at Hermione. "Nearly gave Moody a heart attack thinking we'd lost it to some shifty character."
Hermione laughed, letting their playful banter lighten the tension she'd been carrying. She didn't mention what she knew about their fate, nor did she bring up the future that awaited their family. Instead, she focused on enjoying their company, their infectious energy, and the way they reminded her of Fred and George's own spirited charm.
They reached the edge of Hogsmeade, where a discreet Portkey—an old, battered tin can—waited to take them directly to the Ministry of Magic. Gideon and Fabian exchanged one last set of grins before Fabian held out the Portkey for them all to touch.
It was also a stroke of luck that Dumbledore had assigned these two for this particular mission. Both Gideon and Fabian worked as Aurors, which gave them access to many parts of the Ministry without raising suspicion. They could get into the archives, the research department, and even a few restricted areas that would be off-limits to others. The Department of Mysteries was unfortunately still out of reach, but they were still going to the Ministry at night, reducing the chance of anyone asking too many questions.
"Right then," Fabian said, his expression softening just slightly as he looked at her. "Ministry of Magic, after hours edition. You ready, Mina?"
Hermione nodded, her resolve firm. "As ready as I'll ever be."
"Good. Just stick close to us, and you'll be fine," Gideon assured her, giving her a reassuring wink. "The Ministry's a maze, but we've got your back."
Together, they grabbed the Portkey, and with a sudden jolt, Hermione felt the familiar hook behind her navel as they were pulled away from the snowy streets of Hogsmeade.
As they landed in the Ministry's deserted Atrium, the familiar golden statues casting long shadows in the dim light, Hermione took a moment to steady herself. The quiet hum of the Ministry at night was eerie, the usual bustling crowds replaced by an empty stillness that pressed in on them. Gideon glanced at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and practicality as he straightened his cloak.
"So, what exactly are we looking for?" he asked, his voice echoing slightly in the cavernous space.
"Potions research," Hermione said, her mind already racing with possibilities. "Or any incidents relating to mind-altering potions."
Fabian raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a lopsided grin. "That's a bit broad, love. We could be sifting through stacks for months."
Giedon nodded in agreement, though his tone was light. "Got anything more specific? You're talking hundreds of years of records down here."
Hermione chewed her lip, thinking fast. "Alright. Hallucination-inducing potions… or anything that's designed to cause severe mental distress or torture when consumed."
Gideon let out a low whistle. "That's a bit dark, innit?"
"I'm trying to create an antidote," Hermione clarified quickly, her voice edged with urgency. "It's not exactly light research."
"Yeah, that makes more sense," Gideon said, giving her an understanding nod. "Come on, let's get moving."
They made their way through the dimly lit corridors, navigating the maze of hallways that led to the Ministry's vast archives. The Archives Room was even more intimidating than Hermione had imagined—row upon row of towering shelves, filled with countless volumes of scrolls, books, and records that stretched far beyond what the eye could see. It was as though the room had swallowed an entire library and then kept going, extending into the darkness with no discernible end.
Hermione's jaw dropped at the sheer scale of it. "We're never going to find what we need here," she said, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Fabian chuckled, watching her reaction with amusement. "Yeah, magic and the ability to create unlimited storage space is a bit of a nuisance at times," he said, pulling a folded map from his cloak. "But that's why we've got this. The archives aren't just one place; they're linked to different departments—DMLE, DRCMC, DMAC, you name it. We need to head for the research section, though. It's got a different indexing system from the DMLE's."
He unfolded the map, revealing a complex layout of the archive's sprawling sections, each labelled with neat, precise lettering that indicated everything from mundane research notes to highly classified magical studies. Gideon and Fabian exchanged knowing looks before setting off, leading Hermione deeper into the labyrinth.
"This place is an absolute maze," Gideon commented, shaking his head. "And here I was thinking we'd have an easy night."
"We'll be here all night," Fabian said with a wry grin, though there was a glint of determination in his eyes. "Just don't get lost, yeah?"
Hermione followed them, her eyes scanning the shelves as they passed. Potions Research, Dark Arts Artefacts, Experimental Charms—each section seemed to promise more secrets than the last. The sheer enormity of what lay hidden in the archives was overwhelming, and she realised with a sinking feeling that they were barely scratching the surface.
"More like every night for the foreseeable future," Hermione murmured under her breath, the daunting task ahead of them weighing heavily on her shoulders. But she couldn't afford to lose heart.
As they continued their search, Fabian handed her a small, enchanted lantern that cast a soft, warm light. "We've got a lot of ground to cover," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "But don't worry, Delacour. We've got your back."
Hermione nodded, clutching the lantern tightly as they ventured deeper into the archives. "One of you could probably try to see the DMLE records as well, see if there were any incidents where such a potion was used."
Gideon nodded thoughtfully, glancing towards the section marked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "Yeah, good idea. Sometimes these things leave a trail—an incident, an unexplained case. If this potion was ever used, someone might have noticed the effects, even if they didn't understand the cause."
Fabian adjusted his grip on the map, eyes scanning the labyrinth of shelves. "I'll head that way and see what I can dig up. If there's any mention of hallucination-inducing potions or cases of magical torture drinks, it's bound to be in the DMLE records."
Hermione watched him go, the soft glow of her lantern illuminating her path as she continued alongside Gideon.
"Be careful," she called after Fabian, her voice carrying a note of caution. "If anyone asks, just say you're following up on a case."
Fabian gave her a cheeky salute, his usual grin in place. "Don't worry about me, love. I'm practically an expert at sneaking around Ministry red tape." He vanished into the darkness, his footsteps fading into the endless rows of documents.
Gideon led Hermione deeper into the Potions Research section, the silence pressing in on them. "We're going to be in for a lot of late nights, I reckon," he said, though his tone remained light. "But we'll find it. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."
By early morning, the exhaustion had set in, and the dim, enchanted lanterns barely cut through the thick, suffocating darkness of the archives. Hermione rubbed her tired eyes, blinking at the dense text in front of her. She had managed to find a few promising research papers on mind-altering potions—some with hallucinogenic properties and others that detailed experimental counter-potions. They were nowhere near the exact potion they were searching for, but it was a start.
Gideon had been quick to help, using his Ministry authorization to copy the documents with a quiet flick of his wand. The spell lit up the pages with a soft, golden glow, capturing every detail without leaving a trace. "Good thing you've got us around," he muttered with a grin, stashing the copies into a charmed bag. "You doing that yourself would have the entire Ministry coming down on us."
Hermione nodded, grateful but weary. "Good to know," she agreed, her voice tinged with the fatigue of a long night's work. "But these might be helpful. At least it's something."
They met up with Fabian, who looked equally drained, though his eyes still sparked with determination. "No direct matches," he reported, handing over a small stack of copied reports. "But I pulled a half-dozen that had similar effects or that sounded suspicious. Might be worth a look."
Hermione flipped through the reports quickly, scanning the summaries. It was clear they had a long way to go, but at least they weren't leaving empty-handed. "Good work," she said, stuffing the papers into her own bag. "I'll comb through these more later."
The brothers nodded in agreement, and they quietly made their way out of the Ministry, moving swiftly and carefully through the deserted Atrium. The Ministry's early morning bustle was just starting to pick up; a few employees trickled in, barely awake, but the main rush hadn't yet begun. They slipped out before anyone could give them a second glance, their presence hidden by the waning darkness.
"Think that's enough excitement for one night," Gideon said as they emerged into the grey dawn of London, stretching his arms. "Let's get ourselves a bit of kip before we turn into a pair of zombies."
Fabian laughed, patting Hermione on the back. "Agreed. You've been working like a demon, love. We'll hit the Leaky, get some rooms, and catch a few hours of shut-eye. We can dive back in tonight, fresh."
Hermione nodded, the thought of a soft bed and even a few hours of rest feeling like a small luxury. "Thanks, both of you," she said sincerely, feeling a rush of gratitude. "I know this is… a lot."
They arrived at the Leaky Cauldron just as the sky was beginning to lighten, the inn still quiet and drowsy. Tom, the barman, gave them a curious look but said nothing as they booked a couple of rooms. As they made their way upstairs, Fabian glanced back at Hermione, his expression softening. "Get some rest, love. We've got a long road ahead, but we're with you all the way."
Hermione woke with a start, her senses abruptly alert as she felt the distinct sensation of being watched. She blinked groggily, her eyes adjusting to the dim light of her small room at the Leaky Cauldron. For a moment, she thought she was alone, and then—
"Morning, love."
Hermione jumped, her hand instinctively diving under her pillow to grasp her wand as she snapped upright. She nearly hexed them on the spot when she saw Gideon and Fabian Prewett grinning at her from either side of the bed, perched with far too much enthusiasm for this hour of the morning. Even if it was later than she usually got up.
"What in Merlin's name—!" Hermione yelped, her heart racing. She raised her wand, reflexes honed from years of battle, but Fabian threw his hands up defensively, a look of genuine surprise on his face.
"Easy there, love!" Fabian exclaimed, his eyes wide as he leaned back, barely dodging the tip of her wand. "Blimey, she's quick."
Gideon's grin faltered for just a second as he, too, eyed her wand warily. "Bloody hell, you've got some reflexes. We just wanted to say good morning, not get turned into frogs."
Hermione lowered her wand, her breath still coming in sharp bursts as she tried to steady herself. "You can't just—just sneak into someone's room and loom over them!" she scolded, her voice edged with a mix of lingering fear and irritation. "You nearly got yourselves blasted halfway across the room."
Gideon chuckled, though there was a hint of newfound respect in his eyes. "We might have underestimated you a bit there. Honestly, how were we supposed to know you sleep with your wand under your pillow?"
"It's a habit," Hermione muttered, running a hand through her tousled hair, still trying to calm her nerves. "And you should really learn about boundaries. This is my room, for Merlin's sake. How did you even get in?"
Fabian smirked, leaning back on his hands. "Ah, well, you know us, love. We've got our ways."
Hermione rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "I don't know whether to be impressed or furious. You can't just sneak up on someone like that."
Gideon grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, well, lesson learned. But in our defence, we were just excited to get started again. Plus, you've been asleep for ages."
"A whole four hours," Fabian added with an exaggerated yawn, nudging her playfully. "We were getting bored."
Hermione sighed, feeling the last of her annoyance ebb away. "You two are impossible."
"Maybe," Fabian agreed with a wink, "but you love us anyway."
"Let's not push it," Hermione replied dryly, though her tone was softened by affection. She set her wand down carefully on the bedside table, making a mental note to add some extra locking charms to her door next time. "Before we go back to the Ministry, I want to take a detour to Knockturn Alley. There's a bookstore there that might have some of the shadier texts Hogwarts wouldn't carry."
"Naughty," Fabian teased, waggling his eyebrows with a cheeky grin. "Barely out of school and already looking to get your hands on forbidden books. I'm impressed, love."
Hermione rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "It's not about being naughty—it's about finding what we need. There are things Hogwarts doesn't teach, and if we're going to do this properly, we can't just rely on standard texts."
Gideon leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "And here I thought we were the bad influences. Turns out you're the one dragging us into shady bookshops. But you're right, Knockturn's the place to find the kind of information we're after."
Fabian shot Gideon a knowing look, his grin widening. "Well, she's got us there, Gid. Never did play by the rules ourselves, did we?"
"Never once," Gideon agreed, tipping an imaginary hat to Hermione. "Alright, Delacour, lead the way. But try not to look like you're on a school trip. We'll blend in, but you—"
Hermione chuckled, appreciating their easy camaraderie. "I'll be fine. I've been around enough dark corners to manage."
Fabian nudged Gideon with a grin. "Told you she was a good one."
Gideon nodded, giving her an approving smile. "You've got guts. And you're right—we've got to go where the answers are, even if it means poking around where we shouldn't."
After a quick breakfast, they set off towards the shadowy twists of Knockturn Alley.
Hermione hadn't been prepared for the reality of Knockturn Alley. She knew of it from Harry's accidental detour into Borgin and Burkes years ago, but seeing it in person was an entirely different experience. The wizarding world she was familiar with—the grand halls of Hogwarts, the polished elegance of Diagon Alley, and even the struggling yet proud Weasleys—was a world of upper and middle-class wizarding society. Even those like the Weasleys, who often scraped by, still held a sort of nobility in their place within the magical community.
But Knockturn Alley was the hidden underbelly, the part of the wizarding world no one wanted to see. The streets were a shadowed maze of crime, poverty, and those cast out by society. It was a haven for the desperate, the broken, and the dangerous, where the lost and forgotten lurked in the dark corners. Glamours were a necessity; both she and the Prewett twins had cloaked themselves to avoid being recognised, particularly Fabian and Gideon, who often prowled these streets as Aurors, albeit in a very different capacity.
As they discussed their plan over a late breakfast, Gideon volunteered to handle the talking once they reached the shop. The suggestion didn't sit well with Hermione at first, her instinctive need for control bristling against the idea of taking a backseat. But as she glanced around at the shadowed figures moving through Knockturn, she couldn't help but feel out of her depth, and reluctantly, she agreed.
As they approached a particularly shabby-looking bookshop tucked between two crumbling buildings, Hermione steeled herself, pushing aside the unease that crept at the edges of her mind. This was no place for fear or second thoughts. She needed answers, and if those answers were buried in the dark corners of Knockturn Alley, then she would find them.
"This is the place," Fabian said, nodding towards the shop. The windows were smeared with grime, barely letting in the thin slivers of light that managed to pierce through the gloomy alley. Moth-eaten drapes hung like ghosts behind the glass, and the door, crooked and warped, looked as if a strong gust could unhinge it completely. Above them, a faded sign dangled precariously, the letters so worn that their meaning was more a suggestion than a declaration.
Hermione nodded, her eyes scanning the peeling paint and darkened wood. "Right. Let's see what we can find."
The door creaked loudly as she pushed it open, a mournful sound that echoed into the shadowed depths of the shop. The air inside was thick and musty, laced with the scent of dust and old magic, and it clung to her skin like a warning. The space was cramped, filled with narrow, overburdened shelves that seemed to sag under the weight of the ancient tomes they held.
Gideon didn't waste a moment, sidling up to the hag behind the counter with the kind of charm that was both reckless and oddly persuasive. His easy grin and relaxed demeanour were enough to draw the shopkeeper's wary eyes away from Hermione and Fabian.
Meanwhile, Hermione drifted towards the nearest shelf, her gaze carefully scanning the spines of the books, each more unsettling than the last. She made sure not to touch anything, knowing all too well that dark magic often seeped into the pages of these ancient tomes. Curses and hexes were layered within, some targeted specifically at those like her—Muggle-born witches who dared to tread where they were not wanted. The titles, barely discernible through years of neglect, hinted at unspeakable secrets: forbidden rituals, twisted potions, and knowledge best left buried.
Hermione strained to listen, her ears tuned to Gideon's calm, measured voice as he continued his negotiations with the hag behind the counter. The hag's responses were sharp and suspicious, but Gideon's charm was working; they were close to sealing the deal. Fabian, ever watchful, lingered nearby, his casual posture doing little to hide the keen vigilance in his eyes as they flicked between the shop's dark corners and the hag's calculating gaze.
Hermione's heart skipped when she spotted two books tucked between grim-looking volumes that seemed to thrum with dark magic. Their titles hinted at the sort of knowledge she was after—detailed studies of potions with dangerous, mind-altering effects. She gave a subtle nod to Fabian, a silent signal to get Gideon to purchase them. Everything was moving smoothly, and the price was nearly settled when the room was suddenly bathed in brilliant silver light.
A stag burst into existence, galloping through the air with an ethereal grace, its form flickering like moonlight caught in a whirlwind. Its voice, James's voice, rang out, echoing off the crumbling walls of the shop: "We are sorry, Mina. Please stop hiding. No one is angry, please just come back."
Hermione's blood ran cold. Fuck. The name—Mina—hung heavily in the air. The stag's presence, powerful and unmistakable, cast suspicion on them all. Dark wizards or their associates were rarely capable of producing a Patronus; it was a spell of light, requiring a purity of intent that Knockturn's denizens did not possess. The hag's eyes narrowed with a predatory distrust, her gnarled hands twitching towards her wand.
Pandemonium erupted. The hag lunged forward, her mouth twisted in a snarl as she reached for her wand, and Gideon reacted instantly, his own wand snapping up in a flash. "Obliviate!" he barked, his spell striking the hag squarely, her expression going blank as the memory of the last few minutes was wiped clean.
Fabian wasted no time, grabbing the books and stuffing them under his robes. "Time to go, love," he muttered urgently, pulling Hermione back towards the door. The shop felt like it was closing in on them, every shadow a potential threat, every rustle a danger. They barely made it out, the hag's confusion turning to anger as she clawed for her wand, ready to defend her territory.
The trio stumbled into the grimy alley, hearts pounding, Hermione's mind racing with the danger they had narrowly escaped. Fabian gripped her arm, his expression a mix of concern and frustration. "No time for subtlety—hold on," he ordered, and before she could protest, he and Gideon each grabbed her shoulder, and with a sickening lurch, they Disapparated.
The claustrophobic chaos of Knockturn Alley vanished, replaced by the cool, disorienting spin of Apparition. They landed in a secluded spot, far from the prying eyes of London's magical underbelly, breathless and shaken.
Gideon glanced at her, his face set with a mixture of annoyance and relief. "That was too bloody close," he said, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. "You need to tell your mates not to send Patronuses to you while you're skulking about dark corners, yeah?"
Hermione nodded, her stomach still twisting from the abrupt escape and the mess she had inadvertently dragged the twins into. "I'm sorry," she whispered, still clutching her wand tightly. But as she looked at the stolen books, now safely in their possession, she knew they couldn't afford any more close calls. This was only the beginning.
Hermione stumbled slightly as stepped back from the twins, her feet hitting the uneven cobblestones of a narrow back alley. The dim, overcast light filtering through the buildings told her they were somewhere in Muggle London, far enough from the Ministry and Knockturn Alley to feel like they'd left the wizarding world entirely. She could hear the distant hum of traffic, the occasional shout of a street vendor, and the rattle of a passing bus. But all she could think about was the Patronus—James's Patronus—and the mess she was now in.
She needed to get a message to Dumbledore, to get the Marauders off her back before they put themselves or her in even greater danger. A Patronus was her best bet, but the panic from earlier was still gnawing at her, making her grip on her magic feel shaky. She raised her wand, closing her eyes as she tried to find that core of happiness, that anchor in the chaos.
Her first attempt sputtered, the spell flickering weakly before fizzling out. Her mind was too tangled with worry, too consumed by the sight of that silvery stag and all it represented. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus, to push away the fear. She needed a memory—something strong, something real.
And then it came to her: the warmth of Remus's touch, the softness of his lips on hers, the way he looked at her as though she were the only thing that mattered. The memory surged through her, bright and unbidden, flooding her with a sense of comfort and belonging. She raised her wand again, her voice steady this time as she cast, "Expecto Patronum!"
The silver otter sprang forth from Hermione's wand, twisting gracefully through the air, its light cutting through the dimness of the back alley. She watched, feeling a surge of relief as the Patronus took shape, its presence a brief, comforting glow amid the chaos. She stepped closer, whispering urgently, "Find Professor Dumbledore. Tell him to get the seventh-year Gryffindors to back off—I'm safe, but I need them to stop trying to reach me."
The otter glanced back at her with bright, understanding eyes before shooting off into the sky, disappearing from view. Hermione let out a shaky breath, her heart still racing as she lowered her wand. She turned to find the twins watching her, their expressions strained, the adrenaline still evident in their eyes.
"Bloody hell," Fabian muttered, running a hand through his hair, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. "That could have gone sideways real quick."
Gideon let out a low whistle, shaking his head as he leaned against the alley wall. "Too damn close. Nice job with the Patronus, love, but we're in over our heads here. Let's just hope Dumbledore can keep your lot from causing any more trouble."
Hermione nodded, her nerves still frayed from the close call. They had managed to escape, but the situation could have easily spiralled into something far worse. Now, she could only hope that her message would reach Dumbledore in time, and that he could rein in the Marauders before they made things even messier.
"Come on," Gideon said, pushing off the wall with a sigh. "Let's get the hell out of here before anyone else catches wind of where we've been."
Fabian clapped Hermione on the back, the gesture reassuring rather than celebratory. "We'll figure this out, yeah? But let's not tempt fate any more today. We've had enough excitement for one morning."
Gideon nodded in agreement, his usual easygoing demeanour tinged with a touch of lingering tension. "Right. Let's get out of here before we push our luck any further."
With a quick flick of their wands, the trio removed their glamours, revealing their true appearances. The alley around them was still quiet, but the echoes of the chaos they'd just escaped hung in the air. Without another word, they each grabbed hold of their wands, focusing their thoughts on the familiar, slightly shabbier comfort of the Leaky Cauldron.
In the blink of an eye, the dismal alley vanished, replaced by the well-worn wooden beams and dim lighting of the pub. The chatter of early patrons and the clinking of glasses greeted them as they landed near the entrance, the faint smell of ale and tobacco curling in the air.
Fabian shot a wary glance around, his shoulders finally relaxing now that they were back on safer ground. "Never thought I'd be relieved to see this place," he muttered, straightening his coat as they made their way toward the bar.
Gideon smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. "Aye, it's a sight better than that back alley. Let's grab something to eat, regroup, and figure out our next move."
Hermione nodded, still trying to calm her racing thoughts. The Leaky Cauldron wasn't exactly home, but it was familiar, and right now, that was enough. They had made it out of Knockturn in one piece, and for the moment, that was all that mattered.
Dumbledore sat behind his grand desk, a faint smile on his lips as he watched Lily Evans and James Potter settle into the chairs before him. The fireplace crackled softly in the background, its warmth filling the room, but the tension between the Headmaster and the Head Boy and Girl was palpable.
"Thank you both for coming," Dumbledore began, his tone gentle but firm. "I wanted to inform you that Miss Delacour had to leave Hogwarts due to a family emergency. She will return by the start of term, and I assure you there is no cause for concern."
Lily's brow furrowed, her green eyes narrowing slightly. "Professor, with all due respect, we're not questioning your judgement, but… Mina's been acting off for days. And then… she just leaves? Are you certain it's a family emergency? We're all just… worried about her."
Dumbledore's expression remained calm, though his eyes sparkled with an unspoken understanding. "Miss Evans, I appreciate your concern, truly. However, I can assure you that Miss Delacour is perfectly safe. In fact, she's assisting me with something important, though it would be best for everyone if the family emergency story is what's shared."
James, who had been listening quietly up until now, leaned forward, his brows knitting in suspicion. "Professor, Mina's not exactly who she says she is, is she? Sirius… he—well, we have reason to believe she's hiding something. Can you really trust her?"
Dumbledore's gaze flickered, his smile turning just a touch more amused. "Mr Potter, I believe I am more aware of Miss Delacour's true nature than you might think. Rest assured, there are reasons for my trust in her—reasons that I am not at liberty to share. I must ask that you not interfere."
James bristled, clearly unsatisfied. "We're going to be Order members soon, Professor. Shouldn't we be in the know? If she's… involved in something bigger, shouldn't we be prepared?"
Dumbledore's smile remained, but his voice took on a sterner note. "Patience, Mr Potter. There is a time and a place for every piece of information. When you join the Order, you will be privy to many things, but you must also learn that some matters are strictly need-to-know. There are many reasons for secrecy, not least of which is the safety and success of our efforts."
Lily, who had been watching Dumbledore closely, spoke up, her voice tinged with confusion and frustration. "But, Professor, Mina's just a student. How can she be trusted with something that even we—"
Dumbledore raised a hand, gently cutting her off. "Miss Evans, if you wish to be part of the Order, you must understand that discretion and trust are paramount. There are roles and responsibilities that cannot always be explained, and sometimes, actions must be taken without full disclosure to others. Mina is fulfilling a task that is crucial, and she has my full confidence."
James clenched his jaw, still clearly unhappy, but he didn't press further. Lily glanced at him, then back at Dumbledore, her unease clear on her face. "So… we're just supposed to let it be?"
Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling with a blend of wisdom and unspoken secrets. "Indeed. For now, focus on your studies and your duties as Head Boy and Girl. The Order will call on you soon enough, and when that time comes, you will need to be ready—not just in skill, but in understanding that trust sometimes requires accepting what you do not know."
James and Lily exchanged a look, both dissatisfied but resigned. They knew better than to push Dumbledore too far, but the unanswered questions lingered between them as they rose to leave.
"Thank you, Professor," Lily said quietly, though her tone was tinged with reluctant acceptance.
Dumbledore merely nodded, his gaze following them as they departed. "Remember, Miss Evans, Mr Potter—there are many battles being fought, some seen and some unseen. Your time will come, but for now, trust that I am doing what is necessary for us all."
As the door closed behind them, Dumbledore's expression softened, a flicker of sadness and hope mingling in his eyes. He knew the burdens they all carried, but some paths had to be walked alone, and Mina Delacour's was one of them.
