Chapter 32: September 1, 1998

The first day of autumn had arrived.

If Weasley's Wedding, the largest joyous private event after the war, was hailed as the first sign of peaceful life returning to Wizarding Britain, then September 1st had to be the second such sign.

The feeling of September 1st started to saturate the wizarding community days before the actual date. Many businesses on half-restored Diagon Alley timed their grand reopenings to the final seven days of the summer. The Prophet's front page stayed light on drama, and its ad pages filled with announcements from for shops, services and jobs unrelated to weddings.

Behind the scenes, the DMLE worked overtime to ensure public trust was not damaged during the days of increased public activity. Many officers welcomed the extra duties as their own, professional, sign of the reemergence of peaceful times. The complaints about the tough pace were few for the time being.

Even the Ministry and the Wizengamot activity slowed down for almost a week.

Without any official declaration or conscious decision, the wizarding public treated September 1st as more than just the start of schooling. The date became synonymous with a new beginning, a new year.

[8:12 am - somewhere at the Ministry of Magic Headquarters]

For the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, September 1st began early, stressfully, and with a hint of progress. Wizengamot finally gave in to the common sense and authorized the split of the confiscated assets into two accounts.

The larger account, three quarters of the total confiscated funds, was moved under the Minister's authority. The funds were going to finance the restoration of physical assets destroyed or depleted by war.

Kingsley expected the success of Reconstruction initiative to decide his transition from interim to elected Minister. As long as nothing went sideways, of course. The next several months were going to be particularly important. He didn't need to rebuild the whole Wizarding Britain in that time. He just needed to demonstrate a good progress.

The team, the Reconstruction Commission, had been assembled and working on internal processes for several days. They were in good shape to start working with public, businesses and organizations immediately.

And naturally, some rebuilding projects were more visible and more impactful than others.

Kingsley settled in the guest chair and slid the account paperwork across the desk towards his new deputy, the Reconstruction Commissioner.

'Hogwarts restoration must be among top priorities for the Fund.'

'It is.'

'Wizengamot dragged their feet too long. I must have the recovery plan ready for when the parents start blaming the Ministry for the castle's poor state.'

'You will.'

'You are positive you don't want the auctions of confiscated property to be delegated to another team?'

'Very. I'll enjoy the task.'

Thin lips stretched in a semblance of a tired smirk or, possibly, a sneer.

Kingsley shot a look at his Reconstruction Commissioner wondering whether she was cross with him for some reason or simply tired. Dark circles under the reddened eyes, grayish tint of the pale face, huge mug with inky black beverage, and hastily pushed to the side pile of sweets and sweets wrappers. Probably tired.

'Rough morning?'

'It's fine. Takes a spell to get used to the change in routine. It helps... to have a purpose outside the house. I'm glad you talked me into accepting this role.'

Kingsley leaned in to slid a small overlooked scroll across the desk, uncomfortable with the topic.

'Minerva's Hogwarts rebuild progress.'

He wanted the witch on his team, pursued her relentlessly, and didn't regret adding her to his team. The witch was a curious combination of trustworthy, devious and shrewd. Perfect for heading a large fund, and for overseeing secret projects. Her condition for accepting the role was a moral compromise he didn't like to be reminded of, even indirectly.

"Dear Minister-"

'She refers to you as Minister?'

'When she feels I don't do the job satisfactorily enough.'

'Ah, has she used your actual name yet?'

The Minister plucked a large candy from the pile of sweets.

There wasn't much for the Hogwarts Head to be happy about. The official assistance to restore the castle stalled in Wizengamot. The private commitments cancelled, also due to Wizengamot. Many people found themselves preoccupied with unplanned marital obligations, either their own or of someone else in their family. Hogwarts restoration became less important for a number of early volunteers.

'Not yet, but I have high hopes now.'

The witch hummed and returned to her reading.

"Dear Minister,

Hogwarts will reopen for schooling as scheduled.
Despite the continued lack of support from our Ministry:
- Completed the foundation repair and strengthening
- Restored the castle security wards to a pre-war state
- Restocked the study materials and potions to one fifth of required volume for the expected number of students
- Restocked the medical supplies to a quarter of volume for the expected number of students and staff
- Cordoned off the trouble areas by physical and magical barriers from student access

The trouble areas are enumerated on the included map.

Sincerely,
Prof. Minerva Mcgonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

P.S.: Kingsley, the staff won't be working on restoration. The volunteers won't stay either. With students here it's not appropriate. I'm counting on your leadership, if Wizengamot is incapable!"

'There are a lot of areas.'

'Don't I know that.'

'And that is a short completion list.'

'She puts only the new progress in the letters.'

'I'll contact Minerva, and work on Hogwarts personally. The budget, rebuild plan, main points for your statement. You'll have those in a fortnight.'

'Perfect. I won't distract you further. Let's set the weekly meetings for the Reconstruction progress review. Mondays?'

The witch hummed an agreement distractedly. Her attention was already on the list of large projects her team prepared ahead of time. Hogwarts... St. Mungo's... Gringotts... She might be able to make case for Gringotts payouts to be delegated to the Restitution account. Wizengamot kept too much for restitutions as it was. Individuals and small businesses would need to be reached through papers and public posters... She added a note to her list to have her team work on that.

Kingsley grabbed another sweet off the desk on the way out. He resolved to bring breakfast for their weekly meets… and have it delivered on the other workdays too. The witch was already making his workload lighter. It wouldn't do to have her keel over from too much sugar and caffeine.

[8:28 am - The Burrow, the original Weasley Household]

'Be back in a jiff.' At the narrowed eyes of his wife who heard that phrase a tad too often lately the wizard hurried to add, 'In a jiff and before 10am. Our last trip to Platform 9¾. The end of an era!'

'I don't understand why you are still so busy, Arthur.'

'It's not over, sweets… Tobias was too cagey during our last informal chat. I suspect your Witches Weekly will post something revealing soon enough.'

'I know Ron and Millie will be on the cover soon enough'

Arthur Weasley shot a humorous look to his wife. His youngest son certainly enjoyed the public's attention. And his bride was putting up with it patiently enough.

He looked through the items in his briefcase making sure all his notes were there, then happily added a small paper bag with scones Molly summoned from the kitchen.

'I still don't understand why Kingsley involves you so much in this. Goodness, is there anything about us or the kids?!'

'No no! Of course not! We are well established blood traitors, what else is there to reveal?' He grinned. 'Kingsley wants a proper investigation with the real charges for those tipsters. Asked me to coordinate the effort, officially. That's what the meeting is about. To strategize. It won't run long.'

He snapped the briefcase closed, and headed towards the entrance door.

'Oh my… What charge is Kingsley planning?'

'Treason. The undermining of our government.'

Molly fussed with Arthur's robes until she was satisfied they were as straightened as they possibly could be.

'That's harsh, Arthur, don't you think? All these people are doing is calling out the misdeeds and secrets of others.'

'I don't know, Molly. Of the ten tips we know about, eight were sent to the papers. Seems like a campaign to discredit our government, rather than find wrongdoers. And everything just started going back to normal. If those people think they are helping they are wrong. They are creating chaos.'

He leaned for a kiss before stepping outside.

'I will be back in a jiff, Mollywobbles. Perhaps we'll have time for a cuppa before the train station, or... a quick celebration.'

The wizard chuckled at the indignant Arthur! and the beginning of the smile on his wife's face even as the apparition whisked him away to an alley in Muggle London near the entrances to the Ministry for Magic.

All of his kids were adults and building their own families. Life with just Molly was something new and exciting. They had their first child so young; and when their youngest started Hogwarts Voldemort was returning. He was quite looking forward to finding out what a life with Molly during peaceful time looked like. Hopefully, those blasted tipsters, or Death-Eaters-in-hiding, or some other troublemakers wouldn't throw their world into some new commotion!

[8:30 am - 12 Grimmauld Place, Potters Residence, aka the honorary Weasley Household]

'Is Hermione still in bed?'

Ginny handed a plate with breakfast fare to Harry.

'Nope, was up before me. Running an errand. She will go directly to the train station afterwards.'

'What errand?'

'Good question.'

'You'll keep an eye on her won't you? With the Ministry's idiotic attitude, and Susan being made the Head Girl… Why she chose Bones?!'

'I don't know. When I refused, I thought surely Hermione will be picked... Don't worry Harry, I'll keep an eye on her. She is my friend too. Even if she acts-'

'Gin-'

'I know I know. Torture. Marriage. Crazy spouse. Oh! You might want to know, I've made Hermione promise to have us over for dinner over the Christmas break.'

Harry stopped chewing.

'With just Hermione?'

'Nope. More eggs?'

[8:30 am - Muggle London, at another Weasley Household]

The loud metallic trill broke the quiet of the bedroom.

A wizard startled awake. His large freckled hand squeezed roughly the soft flesh it was resting on. The infraction was promptly rewarded by a slap on the offending limb.

'Owww! Not my fault! Hate this bloody Muggle device.'

'Your parents' gift,' The witch drawled sleepily and rolled away to settle on her stomach seemingly indifferent to the sound. 'I think it's cute.'

The twin silver bells shook on top of the bright red round clock creating a right racket. The cheerfully colored device was proving for the third week in a row that Ronald Weasley's ability to sleep through anything had its limits.

He silenced the offending device on his nightstand, and rolled after Millicent.

'I'm stopping by the office before heading to the Platform to see Ginny off. Wanna come?'

He cuddled to her back enjoying the last lazy and quiet minutes of his morning. Ron was glad Millicent scoffed at returning to school. He didn't like the idea of being by himself. Not a rousing love declaration, but he felt optimistic about their union. They did have some things in common... like enjoyment of sports and sex... and their more serious chats ended in awkwardness or hurt feelings less frequently.

'Can't, babysitting Greg's kids, remember? He is moving to the unit under this one, like, today. You might see him on the Platform, with Blaise. You know, Granger might have been piss-drunk when she threatened Bagnold with pictures-'

'She didn't threaten!'

'Ah the way your brother tells, it was ,like, a dire threat,' The witch's body shook with quiet laughter as it did every time the topic of Hermione's outburst came up. 'She is not wrong about documenting stuff though…'

Neither witnessed the argument as the two were taking care of a heated situation of their own at that time. Percy's retelling of the conversation, in his flat matter-of-fact tone with just a hint of mild outrage at Hermione's nerve, seemed almost better than the real thing.

'And our family doesn't need to document family unity?'

'Two words for you, pumpkin, Witches Weekly.'

Ron chucked. It took some bargaining to persuade Millicent to agree to another public event so soon after their very public wedding. The payment she demanded sounded curious and potentially enjoyable. A couple's spa weekend. In Europe. With his full participation in everything she chose to participate in. The price for the place was uncomfortable, but it was the last bit about his participation that had him worried.

'..your mother complimented us the other day for waiting until we were comfortable with each other to take the next step… What was that step we waited for, Weasley?'

Ron rolled his eyes. He should have expected his father to share with his mother what the elder Weasley surely thought of as an amusing chat. He glanced at the Muggle's monstrosity his parents gifted them. He had some time before he absolutely had to leave.

'Care for demonstration?'

The witch glanced back with a coy grin, and a very clear shift in their cuddling positions. That was a cool quality of Millicent's. She made him want the things she wanted without making him feel stupid.

[8:30am - Black Grotto House]

Bellatrix stretched on her back and stared at the ceiling. She would give it a day to make sure the girl didn't change her mind, and wouldn't return unexpectedly. It was still early. She could try to sleep.

She pushed all thoughts away, listened to the sounds of the morning coming from the cracked window, cleared her mind. Stubbornly, her mind had a mind of its own as it once again recalled the events of the recent evening.

..Bellatrix slowly walked towards the bed. A quick glance behind her confirmed the girl was near the ensuite door, seemingly motionless. Bellatrix wondered if the girl would move from her spot without prompts this time.

She climbed onto the edge of the bed, and paused to free the skirts caught under her knee.

The next moment the bed's edge dipped around her. The lithe armed wrapped around her. The knees settled on outer sides of her own. One of the girl's knees set on top her dress, pinning her in place even more thoroughly. The girl's breath whispered over the back of her ear. The girl's front pressed tightly to her back. The stick pushed the dress between her legs.

She slapped the hand caressing her breast away, and then pulled the other one from under her skirt.

Bellatrix pulled at her skirts still stuck under their knees, and moved to twist out of the hands which were attempting to return to their chosen spots.

It was as if the girl downed a more potent potion than the previous time, and grew a couple more hands too…

But of course, the girl said so herself. She was too scared to fail the consummation… And that fear was on top of being scared of Bellatrix. Fear was a strong enough emotion to act as a counter to lust. Not a complete counter, of course. Terror was needed for that.

'Miss Granger!' Bellatrix snapped as she dragged the girl's hand out of her cleavage.

'But Bellatrix, you feel so good. I just want to cuddle.'

And here she thought the evening would be as predictable and mildly humiliating as every other such evening before it.

Bellatrix turned to pull at her skirt from under the girl's knee and turn around. The girl pulled at her captured hand, and shifted to get back the access she was denied.

The two witches twisted and pulled at their skirts and limbs once more, lost their balance and landed face first on the bed with a loud umph .

The younger witch was breathing in her ear now.

The stick wedged between her legs, pressing firmly along her sex through the dress which started to feel too sheer all of a sudden.

Their left arms were trapped between Bellatrix and the mattress.

She bit her lip hard to distract herself from the silence on top of her, and from the general awkwardness of the situation.

The girl's free hand stroked along the back of her leg, then settled on her ass and squeezed.

'Miss Granger, do me the bloody favor and get off my back before I do something you will regret!'

Bellatrix hissed even as her body pushed into the wandering hand.

The sick feeling in her stomach intensified. She tried to dislodge the girl, without much luck. Instead, her squirming made the stick rub against her obscenely. Her breath hitched and she bit her lip again tasting blood. Either she was considerably weaker, or the girl was noticeably stronger than how each of them were during their spring tumble.

'But Bellatrix, you are so huggable and hot, and maybe we should try something new' whined the dead weight on top of her. 'I've read that for some women… ah… that this way works better for uh… you know…sex.'

Bellatrix twisted enough to finally see half of the girl's face.

'You read of sex? On purpose?'

'I read a lot, about other stuff too…' the girl informed her flirtatiously, batted her eyes at her, and then frowned, clearly confused recalling the other stuff , '..other…unimportant stuff… but I do think of pleasing you a lot, or more specifically about how bad I'm at it.'

The visible to Bellatrix half of the face pouted.

'You do?'

'Yes' The girl's hand kept fondling the back of her thigh, squeezing her ass, and was now dipping and stroking into the crease between her cheeks.

The unsettling feeling in her stomach intensified.

She wished she'd just throw up already. That would surely sour the girl's mood, if not dispel it completely.

'Why?' Why did it matter...

'Why I'm bad… I don't know… maybe because I need more practice, and feedback, and… well… and your rules are very limiting, you kno-'

The body on top of her froze.

'Bloody hell, the rules' breathed into her ear and the next moment the hand was out from under her dress and the weight was off of her, followed by a heavy thud and a yelp.

Bellatrix didn't waste any time flipping on her back, rearranging her dress, and finding the doors with her eyes.

When the girl didn't reemerge Bellatrix scooted further to the edge and peered down.

Sure enough, the girl was on the floor, legs outstretched and hands rubbing the back of her head. A silly grin appeared on her face when her eyes spotted Bellatrix's.

'Sorry about the rules.' It sounded more like a question than a statement. The girl didn't look particularly sorry.

Bellatrix glared at the younger witch, as she waited for the odd feeling in her stomach to settle.

'I'm not one of them.' She finally snapped.

'Ok…one of what?'

'One of those…' harlots who could care less who they are with, 'women. Interested in that type of sex.'

'Oh.. got it… Are you sure? It felt like you might be' at Bellatrix's heated look the girl held her hands up. 'Got it!'

Bellatrix contemplated the doors. Should she leave? Would she even be allowed to leave? Did she want to test that?

It was fine. It was just the mudblood. Unfortunate but not dangerous. The girl stopped on her own, she reminded herself. It was fine.

The evening appeared to be coming to its odd and abrupt end. Bellatrix sat down properly, as the girl rose to her knees.

She put her hands on Bellatrix's knees and pushed them slightly apart so she could slid between them.

'Don't go. Sorry, forgot the rules. I remember now.'

'Do you, really?'

Bellatrix looked incredulously as the girl nodded, blinking at her earnestly; the girl's hands were back under her skirts, slowly caressing up her legs.

'I do. Not supposed to take off clothing…' As the girl spoke she kissed Bellatrix hand, then wrist. '..or talk about…ah…'

She frowned slightly, thinking, then leaned back on her knees to get a better reach, then leaned to kiss up Bellatrix's calf, and eventually set the leg over her shoulder.

' …talk about stuff or… or… touch more than absolutely necessary.'

The breath tickled the back of Bellatrix's knee before kisses replaced it. The girl's head disappeared under her skirts.

'So why don't we try something new… so that more touching is absolutely necessary.'

Bellatrix stared at the head under her skirts with wide eyes, partially curious about just how far the girl would get before the potion dissipated, partially scandalized at the girl's nerve, potion or not.

She grabbed a hold of the girl's hair and pulled her away from whatever required comments on divine smells and speculations on potential tastes.

'Miss Granger! Have you forgotten how to have sex?!'

'No new stuff then?..'

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes at the girl.

'As you wish.'

The things went along the familiar if somewhat expedited scenario.

They never made it far from the foot or from the edge of the bed.

'You can touch me too, you know, if you wish,' the girl murmured hurriedly in her ear.

So Bellatrix did, half-apprehensive and half-hopeful the girl would freak out and the evening would end prematurely.

Instead of running away, the girl gave her pleased looks, and small smiles… and even leaned in for a kiss, once, much to Bellatrix's alarm. A firm tug on her hair stopped that notion, but didn't dampen the girl's mood in the least...

'Damn it!'

The dark witch bolted upright with no little irritation. Instead of falling asleep, she was going back to those events.

That night was most unsettling, but it wouldn't be repeating. The girl wasn't going to take the potion anymore. They would go back to the predictable almost-there encounters of their pre-consummation attempts.

There was a parchment on the far side of her bed.

"I trust this will suffice, darling. PS: A home-cooked, elf-free, dinner in thanks would be appreciated"

She reread the note. Darling?.. Dinner?!

'Did the mudblood go insane?' She muttered into the empty room.

Then a more obvious question occurred to her, and her voice rose proportionally to her indignation.

'In return for what?! The horrid sex?! She didn't have time to go that mad… Did she?.. Oh, maybe the mudblood actually went there?'

Then she spotted a box on the nightstand.

She inspected the contents. The look. The inscription. The whiff of magic. She'd have to ask about the magic. It didn't feel harmful. Charms, rather than hexes or curses.

The hidden compartment with pressed powder… Poison? Ah, grounded bezoar! Clever!

The girl couldn't have done better if Bellatrix gave her exact instructions.

[9:58am - Malfoy Manor, inside the Master suite]

Narcissa Malfoy did not have a good few weeks. At least she had a feeling she didn't have a good few weeks.

She remembered the argument with her sister two weeks prior, and the floo call with her son several days after. She remembered the following days of boredom, and nights of despair. Working in the gardens, rearranging the furniture, reading… Taking excessive amounts of sleeping draughts, crying, drinking, staring at the illusion wall in her bedroom which hid a secret floo fireplace …

Only she wasn't so sure she actually did all that.

The discovered stack of missives from her sister was out of place in that routine. She found them on her nightstand just the day before.

"Come on, Cissy, you can't be mad still?
I won't mention your precious husband again."

"Cissy, I'm sorry.
I don't think when I'm angry.
I'm sure he is fine.
You will come tomorrow, won't you?"

"Narcissa, you are alright, aren't you?
Won't you owl or floo?
You could say all you think of me.
I won't interrupt.
I promise."

"I did what you wanted me to.
Didn't exactly go as expected.
You'd have to talk to me if you want details.
Please?'

Narcissa was exasperated with her sister, but for a day not for a fortnight. There was no reason to ignore the increasingly desperate notes. Bella didn't have the freedom to track her down and demand forgiveness or explanation. Ignoring her was downright cruel, and Narcissa was nowhere close to being so upset as to be cruel with Bella.

That's when she realized the details of the floo call with Draco escaped her, and that her diet of draughts and drinks stopped months ago.

She inspected herself, her room, the house and the grounds; talked to elves; checked the last spell on her wand. She had no foreign marks and was in normal health. The place was as before as far as she could tell. The elves didn't see anyone else on the property, and weren't sure whether she left the property or not over past weeks. The last spell on her wand was Scougify , not unusual by any means.

Obliviation was the only explanation.

Narcissa warded her bedroom the night before, but she was still undecided whether to involve the aurors or the healers or no one at all.

And now Miss Granger was loitering at the gates of her Manor. The elves told her that the girl was just sitting and crying there an hour ago, and then that she was talking, screaming, and laughing by herself half an hour ago, and now, apparently, she was pacing.

[10:22am - Malfoy Manor, at the gates]

Frosty blues looked over the younger witch. Hermione thought once again that coming to the Manor was a bad idea. Mrs. Malfoy was still upset with her for some unknown reason.

On the bright side, the blond witch was in one piece. Bellatrix's request turned out to be a short and easy one.

'Miss Granger.' Narcissa had the gates open, but made no other move to step out or invite Hermione in. 'What are you doing here?'

'Mrs. Malfoy… I do appreciate you not making me go inside looking. Ah… well… Bellatrix asked me to check on you... since she didn't hear from you in some time.'

Narcissa, you are alright, aren't you?

'And do you often do what my sister asks of you?'

Hermione hadn't heard the frosty tone since before the war.

The heated retort died on Hermione's lips. Her Gringotts account was lighter by a quarter after all.

'I suppose, as long as it is reasonable…' It's not like Bellatrix asked much of anything. The witch went out of her way to be out of Hermione's way. So what was the big deal if she did and why was it Narcissa's concern anyway?..

'So, you are safe, and no one is holding you here against your will, or something?'

Narcissa hesitated.

'I'm fine Miss Granger,' the young witch was family mostly only on paper. 'You are welcome to come and see for yourself.'

'Maybe next time… Won't you consider visiting Bellatrix sometime again… or at least writing to her? She didn't say so, but I think she regrets whatever she did or at least regrets that it upset you…'

'How do you know it is her who did something?' How much did Bella share with the girl…

Hermione didn't know. She assumed. There was one thing she knew that Bellatrix might be unhappy with her sister about. She might as well bring it up. Mrs. Malfoy was unhappy with her anyway.

'Why did you make her think that? You knew the moment she woke up, the annulment wouldn't be automatic…'

So the girl didn't know about Lucius and Draco…

'I saw her sadness about the Dark Lord's death that first day, and I remembered the last years… living in constant fear… wondering if each day would be our last thanks to his whims.' I don't think when I'm angry, Bella's words could have belonged to her. 'I wanted her to live for a time as we did. I didn't consider that she had already lived like that for too long…'

'I don't think she cares about it, Mrs. Malfoy. She said nothing about it…'

'I know.' Narcissa snapped.

Hermione frowned.

'You are not doing her any favors by staying away. You feel guilty. So apologize. I'm leaving for Hogwarts. She will be by herself most days. Unless you truly don't want to see her, find a way to get over whatever stops you…'

Narcissa blinked curiously at the girl's heated reprimand. Perhaps the young witch's attitude towards Bellatrix wasn't entirely beyond hope.

'I have to go.'

Hermione stepped back to make some space for apparition.

'Miss Granger,'

Mrs. Malfoy was looking at her oddly and it started to unnerve her. The whole place unnerved her.

'Bella would do as she must.' Narcissa's words were slow, and measured, as if navigating around an unbreakable vow. 'She will twist herself into believing that that is as she wishes. Admittedly, on occasion, it is the other way around. My hope is that she won't have to partake in such thought exercises often.'

'I… alright… how so?'

Narcissa was stepping back to let the gates close, and wasn't looking at her anymore.

'Mrs Malfoy, how so?'

'You are about to be late for your train.'

Bloody hell!

She had just 15 minutes to get outside the wards, apparate somewhere close to the train station, and ran to the Platform.

Hermione made it to the Platform in the nick of time. She waved goodbyes as she sped by her best friends and the rest of the Weasleys onto the train. After the past year and the frustrations and the craziness of the summer, she really really really hoped for a better year!

End of Chapter 32