The following morning, Harry woke up when the cushioning charm he had cast on the sofa wore off and the hard wood arm started to dig into his feet. It was just after 6AM, so there was no point in going back to sleep. He stretched and looked around Hermione's tiny apartment. 'Well, at least it beats sleeping in a tent'. He had just finished making omelets when Hermione walked out of the bedroom, still in her night gown.
"You didn't have to make breakfast," she complained sleepily.
"I know – but I wanted to: I haven't had a fully stocked kitchen to work with in forever! It was a joy. And honestly, I'm not certain what else I can do."
Hermione nodded. There was a good chance that as muggle-born, they were both going to be out of a job now, "I can just see you as a short order cook." She quipped awkwardly.
"Hey, don't scoff – that's what I did as a kid."
There was a story there, but Hermione didn't ask. "So, what ARE you going to do?"
Harry shrugged, "I need to fix this."
"Just like that?" Hermione felt the same way. She wasn't certain what two low ranked civil servants could do, but she wasn't one to give up without trying. And somebody HAD to do something, if not for their own sakes, then for that of 80% of the wizarding population that was muggle born.
"Well, I doubt it will be simple, but at least I can do what I can. But first I need to know more about what's going on."
"What more is there to know? The Purebloods have been complaining about muggle-born for years. Even back in school there was a tension between the two. So now they decided to do something about it."
Harry nodded. "But why now? The Pureblood population is small, and despite their complaints, rich. What's their motive for doing something so drastic? And why are they dressing up as Death Eaters, and having a guy calling himself 'Voldemort' as their ring leader? Is he the real deal, or just some copycat? We need to ask somebody who knows more about the 'troubles" in 70's, but the only people I trust to give me the straight information are missing or unavailable." He told Hermione about his attempts to contact Remus & the Weasleys.
"We should go to Hogwarts." Hermione posited. If nothing else, it would be a safe space, and there would be other like minded people there.
"Right! Dumbledore has a history with Voldemort, he will know!" That was a better option that the one he had thought of – asking Daphne if she knew anything. He desperately wanted to keep Daphne from getting tangled up in his work. Partly for her safety, but mostly because it felt wrong to get her involved – he was supposed to be protecting people, not vice versa. And as Ginny had pointed out, he had already relied too heavily on her for his investigations.
"Except he's not there."
"Excuse me?" Harry asked, shocked. Dumbledore was a fixture of Hogwarts. The idea that he wasn't there was inconceivable. "I thought he stayed there even over the summers?"
"Maybe he used to, but last year was his last – he retired in June. Don't you read the Alumni Newsletter?"
"There's an Alumni Newsletter?"
"Yes. Apparently even prisoners in Azkaban get a copy, so why don't you?" Hermione quipped, reminding Harry of their discussion back in 3rd year.
Harry rubbed the back of his head, "Because my apartment is warded more heavily than Gringotts?"
Hermione sighed, "Harry, sometimes you come across as a paranoid loon. You're a forensic technician. Why do you live in a fortress?"
"About that… get your wand – I need you to swear an unbreakable oath…"
Ten minutes later: "You're a fucking SECRET AGENT?" Hermione shrieked.
"Language, Hermione," Harry chided weakly. Mostly because he didn't know what else to say. This wasn't how it had went when he had outed himself to Ginny.
"No, there's a time for swearing, and this is definitely it. When you find out your best friend from school has been lying to you for the past four years!"
"Best friend?" Harry wracked his brain – 'do her memories of Hogwarts not match mine?' - before dismissing it as irrelevant. It didn't matter what their relationship had been back then – he had to deal with a pissed off (and hurt? Maybe? he wasn't really good at this sort of thing) Hermione right now.
"Is that what you're getting hung up on? You're not going to deny that you lied to me?"
Harry held up his hands in defeat, "the eggs are getting cold. You might as well eat while I talk." He sat down at Hermione's dining table, "I'm sorry for not telling you, but you have to understand that that's the definition of the job: not telling people things." Harry waited for Hermione to yell or storm out or something – she was clearly hurt & not handling the revelation well.
Now it was Hermione turn to sigh. She sat down and took a bite of the omelet. "This is good." She worked her way though breakfast in silence. Once she was done, she wiped her mouth and looked back up at Harry, "Well, I'm deputized, so no more secrets -we're a team now."
"That's all? You're not angry?"
"Of course I'm angry. But that doesn't change the fact that you were in the right." And it explained so much.
An unexpected warmth spread through Harry's chest. This casual acceptance.. it was a new experience (and so was the warmth).
"Ok, so we'll go to Hogwarts and ask.. McGonagall what she knows." Harry paused, "Is she a reliable sort? I personally don't trust Snape – he will tell us whatever he thinks is best for us instead of the truth."
"Wow. Your opinion of your House master is higher than I expected" Hermione smiled weakly.
Harry shrugged, "Meh, he has his good points"
*UHD*
After breakfast, they floo-ed to Hogsmead. "This brings back memories," Hermione looked around at the storefronts as they walked past from the public floo.
"Not for me – I never came down to Hogsmead that much. There was nothing to do."
"But where else was there to go on dates?"
"Yeah – the less said about my dating experiences at Hogwarts, the better." Honestly, that still held true today. They were just about to pass the last row of shops when a clod of mud landed on Harry's leg.
"What?" He turned, drawing his wand, just in time to deflect several more clods heading their way. A cluster of townsfolk were watching them with dead eyes from the steps on the flower shop.
"Pureblood go home." One of them intoned.
'They must be under the effects of Zombi.' Harry turned to approach them but they scattered and disappeared inside as soon as he did.
"Harry, we don't have time for this," Hermione grabbed Harry's arm. Harry frowned – if he caught one of the mud flingers, he could get proof that they were drugged… and then he would present the evidence to whom, exactly?
Harry sighed and let Hermione direct him back up towards the castle. "Do you think we'll still have jobs when the Ministry reopens?"
"If the pureblood supremacists have taken over, do you WANT to be working for the Ministry?"
Harry sighed again – he had been doing a lot of that lately – "No. It's just… Thanks for being my moral compass, Hermione." Earlier, he had been furious at Voldemort and his Death Eaters for taking over, but he had spent his whole life 'getting along' with people he really didn't like, so once the anger faded, it was hard not to go crawling back to the safe Ministry job. Even though he knew it was wrong.
*UHD*
"What can I do for you?" McGonagall looked like she had aged 10 years since Harry had last seen her, though she didn't look any less severe. She met them in the headmasters office which was bare of Albus' knickknacks but had not yet taken on her particular tone, though there were several large boxes of journals and books pushed off to one side. The one personal touch was a small statuette of a black cat with it's back arched that was set on one of the almost bare shelves.
Harry and Hermione took turns relating what they had seen at the Ministry, causing the Headmistress to blanch.
When Harry described the incident in Hogsmead, she replied. "That I know about – these sort of confrontations between 'muggles' and purebloods have become common in the past year. They have been happening sporadically in all the areas that are more removed from the heart of magical society in London."
"I think at least some of the perpetrators have been dosed with a drug that acts like the Imperio spell."
"That would have been useful to know before," Hermine paused, "All this happened"
Harry shrugged, "I'm not in law enforcement – I don't know why it wasn't investigated more thoroughly."
"I do, Or at least I have my suspicions," McGonagall added. "Recently, Malfoy and his ilk have taken too much sway over the Ministry, and they must have steered the DMLE away from looking into it. I imagine it was in preparation for this coup." She paused, her lips pursed in thought, "I will try to contact Albus, but he went on a trip to Scandinavia and I do not know when his mail will reach him. I will try to call together some of those that fought Voldemort's blood purists in the 70's, but I am concerned that many won't come – I lack the stature of Dumbledore to draw people together, and we have all grown older and more settled in the intervening years."
"Actually, can you tell us more about what exactly happened during those times? I know Voldemort had a gang called the Death Eaters, but what did they do? Who were they?"
"Why don't you take a seat – this will take a while," McGonagall pointed to a section of the office that had three overstuffed chairs around a low table, suitable for less formal discussions. "I think a good place to start is the prophecy." She had an elf bring up some tea and biscuits. "In the summer of 1981, Sybill Trelawney made a prophecy in front of Albus." McGonagall pulled out a scrap of parchment from inside her desk, "Albus left his for me when he stepped down."
She began to read: "'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…" She took a sip of her tea to fortify herself before continuing. "Voldemort took that to mean Harry Potter" – she glanced at Harry before glancing self consciously at Hermione (She wasn't good at keeping secrets) before continuing, "and that is what set him to the confrontation where he was 'killed'. The fact that these new Death Eaters are raiding the Hall of Prophecies gives credence to this being the original Voldemort – he was always obsessed with it."
"But how could he have survived all these year? And why come back now?"
"I don't know, but he might have been waiting for Dumbledore to retire – Albus was always the one person he feared."
"Bullies are like that," Harry nodded. "They only come out when there is nobody who can stand up to them."
At that moment, there was a pounding on the office door, "Ministry, open up in the name of the Department of Public Safety!" Bellowed a voice, causing the Headmistress' eyebrows to furrow.
She gestured to magic open the door, "What can I help you gentlemen with?" Two pureblood wizards who looked like the sort who had never attended Hogwarts came barging in, followed by an Auror. The two slope-browed goons had the armbands with the DPS logo proudly displayed over their robes.
"We are looking for the school records for all boys enrolled from 1990 to 1999," Pronounced one of them.
"I am sorry, that is private. I can't just hand the personal details of my students over to you!"
"We are from the Ministry. You have to do as we say!" The other bellowed, leaning in to be intimidating. The Auror looked embarrassed at this behavior.
"The answer is still no, young man. The Ministry must follow the law, like anybody else."
This answer clearly stymied him, as he furrowed his brow in confusion, but his partner jumped in, "The Ministry IS the law. Whatever we do is by expso facto the law!"
"That is 'ipso facto', and no it is not." The headmistress replied serenely, channeling her inner Dumbledore.
As one goon argued with the headmistress, the other glanced at Hermione and then down at his clipboard and flipped through several pages before glancing back at her and pronouncing, "Hermione Granger? You are wanted for questioning for sedition in regards to your Muggle-born integration project."
As the Auror glanced in momentary confusion at the lackey, Harry pulled out his wand. "Stupefy." The first stunner hit the Auror. As he dropped, Harry then sent another stunner at the DPS arguing with McGonagall. The third – the one who had called for arresting Hermione – had just enough time to draw his wand, but juggling his clipboard slowed him so that was all he had time to do before Harry's third stunner him as well.
"We should better go."
"Here – use the office Floo." McGonagall threw a handful of powder in, "I'll have to revive the DPS goons after you leave."
Thinking quickly, Harry pronounced "Leaky Cauldron," and the two young rebels spilled into the half empty pub. Before anybody could take notice of them, they walked purposefully out the back. Hermione was just about to open the gate into Diagon Alley when Harry held up his hand. "I think a little disguise is in order first." Harry changed the color of their hair. "Take off your robe - you're wearing muggle clothes under that, right?" When she did, he cast a mild shrinking charm making Hermione's blouse much more form fitting.
"What are you doing?" She squeaked.
"It's just for the walk back to my apartment – this way nobody will look at our faces." He grabbed her arm and pulled her through into Magical London. "Right now, nobody has raised the alarm, so we just need to keep people from remembering us after we pass."
"I feel like I'm going to be pretty noticeable!" Hissed Hermione, "Wizards are a lot more conservative than muggles!" And Harry's apartment was a good half hour walk away!
"And you think they can positively identify you from your bra size?"
"I'm going to punch you when we get home!" Hermione kept walking casually, trying to avoid crossing her arms over her chest or doing anything else to draw attention to herself. Such as hitting Harry. Hermione had always been self conscious of her body, and the tight clothing accentuated her soft middle. 'I should to go to the gym. Right after I kill Harry.'
Once they were in the magical fortress that Harry called home, she collapsed into a chair, quickly dispelling the changes. "I can't… That was the most insane thing I have ever done!" She was grateful that Harry hadn't made any comments about her appearance. 'Though given that it was all his fault, I would then be justified in committing Harry-cide.'
Harry gave her a glass of water to calm her down, "Sorry, I don't have anything stronger."
"That's ok – I probably shouldn't be drinking right now." She slugged down the water, "We're going to need to go into hiding."
"Or at least you do – I can get you out of the country." Harry rubbed his face. He was still running on fumes. He would get Hermione to France. She could hide out in the muggle world while he came back did some digging..
"No, you too - didn't you hear them – they are looking for records of Harry Potter. And before you say something stupid, I'm not running away and leaving you to face this all by yourself." Hermione was still coming to terms with the enormity of the changes to her life, but some concepts were starting to jell. And one of them that Harry Dursley – no Harry 'Potter' - was going to be a major part of it from here on out.
"Oh.." Harry replayed the goon's request in his head and put 2 and 2 together. "We'll need supplies. And information." Harry stood back up. "That I know where to get." Harry paused. Hermione was now part of this whether he wanted or not. As much as he wanted to keep her somewhere safe, his options in that respect were limited. Besides, he could use an ally, and she was the only game in town. "Alex LeStrange is heavily involved with Voldemort. You wait here while I go scope out his place."
"How will you know what to look for?" Hermione didn't ask how Harry was planning to get in – he was a spy! He clearly had specialized skills.
"I have my ways. Wait for me here – I'll be back by dinner time."
*UHD*
Harry portkeyed back to France. Again. After everything that had happened, he felt awkward relying on Daphne for information, but she was still his best source for whatever was going on, seeing as her husband was one of the chief conspirators. But when he arrived there the LeStrange house was sealed up and it didn't look like anybody was in residence. 'Maybe Alex decided to move back to England?' Or maybe Voldemort was requiring his followers to do so. 'Whelp. Only one way to find out.'
Harry pressed up to the wall so that he was inside the privacy wards and conjured a couple of over-ripe tomatoes.
Splat.
He lobbed them gently at the window, just hard enough to leave a tomato-y mess smeared across it. Then he leaned back and waited. It was only a couple of minuted before Doily the house elf opened the window and leaned out with a soapy wash rag.
"Hello, Doily," Harry greeted the little House Elf.
The house elf turned around to peer at him. He was never certain where he stood with her. Having heard many of Hermione's opinions on non-human rights, he always tried to be polite when he visited, but she remained stoic and expressionless when interacting with him, as if he was an expected but unpleasant part of her job.
After a moments consideration, Doily turned back to her work, "Master and Missus are not here. They are staying at another residence, and asked Doily to put the house away."
"Is there any way you can let me in, to get something from the library?" Harry ventured. He was pretty confident that he knew what the answer would be.
"No, the house is sealed, and the wards are all on."
Harry nodded. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, "Thank you, Doily". He could break in, but that would not be easy, and if anything went wrong, that would close a lot doors for him. Instead, he had another avenue that he could pursue.
*UHD*
Harry walked into his apartment, "I'm going to Italy," He announced, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Hermione had been reading a book. "I take it France was a bust?" She asked on, causing Harry's carefree smile to sour.
"Yeah. But there are a lot more leads in Italy that I can work." Though most were not very promising. He was clutching at straws, but he didn't want to admit to that.
"I was just reading the Prophet – the Ministry has closed all ports of entry," She pointed to the newspaper
"You were careful when you went out to purchase it?"
Hermione rolled her eyes "I don't think that I'm so high on their wanted list that they are putting out pictures of me, but I did hide my hair under a hat, and used a charm to appear taller." She refused to use her breasts as a distraction, the way Harry had earlier. That was just gross, and she was still not certain if she was angry at Harry for having done so.
"Didn't that look suspicious?"
Hermione gave Harry a bemused look, "You don't spend a lot of time with women, do you? Half the women I know use a heightening charm when they go out anywhere special. I'm the odd one that I don't. It's the witch's equivalent of high heels."
Harry shrugged sheepishly. He couldn't come out and say that he never went out into public with the woman he spent time with the most often. Which in retrospect made for a pretty messed up relationship.
"If you can't get an international portkey, we're stuck."
Harry snorted, "That ban is just for show. Most wizards can make a personal portkey to get to France, and from there they can go anywhere in Europe."
Hermione gave Harry a look as she put the paper away, "Not everybody went to Hogwarts. Most magicals don't. Purebloods often get home-schooled, while muggle born go to afterschool programs. It's just that most Ministry jobs go to Hogwarts graduates, so those of us working there rarely interact with people who aren't." And without a Hogwarts education, you were unlikely to know how to make a portkey.
Harry started, "That makes sense." The wizarding community was far too large for the tiny number of students at Hogwarts. "Anyway, once in France I can buy a portkey to Italy." Because personal portkeys were slow and could only take you so far.
"Great! Let's go!" Seeing Harry's skeptical look, Hermione added, "You won't be able to operate out of the UK for something like this, and I want to help. If nothing else I can give you somebody to bounce ideas off of."
Harry considered, trying to find some justification for not taking Hermione along. "Do you speak Italian?"
"No, but my French is pretty good." Hermione posture made it clear that her going wasn't a question.
Harry considered protesting further, but there was a desperate edge to Hermione's voice, 'she cut off from her everyday life. She needs something to do'. "Ok, then it's a plan." He didn't like seeing Hermione looking so lost.
Hermione shot up out of the chair and gave Harry a hug. As Harry stood with his arms slightly raised, not certain what to do with them, she leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips as well.
Before Harry could say anything, Hermione quickly turned away, "I guess I shouldn't go back to my apartment to pack – that at least is likely to be watched. I'll buy necessities in Italy. You don't think they will monitor my Gringotts account? She turned back to ask Harry.
"No – I can't believe I'm actually grateful to the goblins, but the little bastards are so ornery and uncooperative that even the Aurors have never been able to get them to cooperate with a legitimate criminal investigation without several weeks of negotiations. And for something like this, there is no established protocol to smooth out the process. The goblins will see it as an invasion of their sovereignty and they will stall any such request for months, possibly years."
"Great, let's go!"
*UHD*
They touched down at the portkey terminal in the magical quarter of Rome – the terminal was a magically expanded courtyard in an old apartment building, of the sort that you could see anywhere in Europe. But once they walked outside, they were just north of the Forum and within view of all of the sights of classical Rome. "Wow. Too bad we don't have time for sightseeing." Hermione had perked up once they arrived, "seeing history all around you like this…" But after a moment, she let wishful thinking go. She turned to Harry, "we'll need to rent an apartment, and unless we're going to be eating out everyday, we should buy some food. And I need some cloths and a toothbrush."
"The apartment is covered – the DoM-OO has a safe house that we can use. But we should get food, unless you want to live on tinned beans," Harry did his best to act like his normal self as well, despite the strangeness of having Hermione with him on what felt like a mission.
And that kiss. 'It probably didn't mean anything.' And it's not like he could tell her about Daphne.
Hermine made a face before adding, "But won't the Death Eaters come check all of the safe houses out, now that they have all of the Ministry records?"
"But they don't," Harry replied cryptically.
Hermione paused and turned to Harry, "Explain. I know you like being mysterious, but this is my life now as well."
Harry just shrugged, "Some things I can't share with anybody." Such as the fact that the DoM-OO office was actually on a separate plane of existence, and that he had sealed the door to it from the Ministry. "But trust me when I say that getting into the Oversight Office records is impossible – it will take months of work, even if they did turn one of the other agents."
Hermione, nodded accepting that, adding it to the list of things that they couldn't talk about. Such as 'the kiss'.
They spent the rest of the day shopping. Harry purchased an instance camera, Hermione bought light clothes, women's 'unmentionables', and they stocked up on food. Even with shrinking charms, Harry ended up carrying a fair number of bags by the time they arrived at the little apartment that was sandwiched between a greengrocer and a laundromat.
"This is actually not too bad," Hermione examined the one bedroom apartment. It was musty, but otherwise surprisingly well appointed, with a couch in the living /dining room, as well as a stylish dining table. Even the kitchen had the basics, though Harry had bought a sauce pan just in case when they were food shopping.
"Well, it doesn't cost any extra to transfigure into nice furniture, and the wizard setting it up was a pureblood."
"We could just stay here," Hermione looked at Harry questioningly. "Witches and wizards can make a living anywhere."
Harry shook is head, "you can, if you want. But I have to do something about the masked ponces back home."
Hermione smiled warmly at Harry. "Yeah, I thought that would be your answer. You always try to help everybody."
Harry looked away, feeling blood rush to his face. 'Why am I blushing like a school boy just because Hermione says something nice?' Maybe it was because she really meant it. "Anyway, I'm going to drop by the Zambini estate after we're all set here."
"Do you think Blaise is involved with all this?"
Harry shrugged, "It's hard to say – he's such an asshole that anything is possible. But his family is involved in potions, and I know that LeStrange was buying from a manufacturer in Lecce. Maybe from more than one."
Hermione nodded, "So even if the Zambinis aren't involved, chances are that they'll know somebody who is."
"Exactly. And I'm not going to do anything too fancy – I'm just going to go by to visit my old school chum."
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Like you were friends with him. Did Zambini have any friends?"
"A couple of the younger years sucked up to him, but otherwise no. Which is why I will be no less believable than anybody else – he will figure I just want something from him."
"Because Slytherins operate on favors." At Harry's nod, Hermione added, "So what do I owe you for getting me away from the Aurors at Hogwarts?"
Harry stopped – he hadn't even thought about that! "Eh, don't worry about it. Just put it on my tab."
Hermione smiled and rested her hand on Harry's shoulder as he turned to go, "Ok. Stay safe."
*UHD*
Harry adjusted his watch, making sure the translation spell he had picked up was running on 'hearing' only, just in case one of the staff dropped something juicy in the background.
The Zambini mansion was on a large plot of land right in the middle of the city. But if it wasn't for the space expansion charms, you would still be able to see a busy road just 100 meters away. And the rest of the construction leaned heavily on magic as well: the main house looked like a typical Roman villa, down to a peristyle surrounding a courtyard in the middle, but there were also a pair of interconnected tree houses in that courtyard that towered over the back half of the villa and doubled the building's size. Harry grabbed hold of the knocker – shaped like a satyr facing towards the door while peering back over his shoulder at Harry – and gave the door a solid rap, wincing at the imagery that it evoked.
Much to Harry's surprise, Anastasia Zambini opened the door herself. "Why hello there," she purred. "And who might you be?"
"I'm Harry. Harry Dursley." He stuck out his hand to shake, British style, "I'm a friend of your son's and I figured I'd pop by, as I was taking a holiday here."
"I'm sure you are." She waved him in, not concealing her examination of his athletic build. Despite being at least in her forties(?), Anastasia was still an attractive woman, though when Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, the glamour around her cracked a little, showing even more lines on her face than a middle-aged woman should have. "Blaise is away, preparing for his next duel, but since you came all this way, let's not let it be in vain. Why don't you stay with us for dinner?" She trailed a hand down Harry's back.
"Oh, I couldn't impose.." Harry began, resisting his urge to pull away from the woman. Despite his relationship with Daphne, he was still uncomfortable with this sort of intimate contact. 'Maybe that's because Daphne goes from zero to 100% and back again, with nothing in between.' Or maybe, despite the insanity that was their relationship, it just felt like he was cheating on her.
"It's no problem. The elves will take care of everything." She snapped her fingers, and a house elf that had been standing so still that Harry had mistaken him for a statue silently disappeared towards the kitchen.
"Come, let us rest outside until it is time." She led the way out to the colonnaded patio that ran between the internal courtyard and the house proper. There, she lay down on a divan and took a drink off of the low table, gesturing for Harry to do the same. Harry surreptitiously banished the alcohol from his as he fumbled with the low couch, trying to adjust it to a more perpendicular incline as Anastasia watched him with a bemused smile.
"How is it? Is it to your taste?" Anastasia licked her lips as she continued to watch him with a hungry look.
"Yes, thank you. Your house is very unique. I am impressed." Harry gestured towards the part that was supported in the trees, attempting to change the topic as he grew increasingly uncomfortable with her direct stare, 'This was a bad idea.' But instead he smiled, "Do you need anything special to make the trees grow so large?"
"Oh, no, they have been like this since forever. That part of mansion dates back over a hundred years" She waved her hand dismissively.
"Do you use it a lot? I would think it would be hard to get up there?"
"Don't be silly. Magic." She made a gesture as if being lifted into the air, drawing attention to her well endowed bosom.
Harry smiled and made small talk as he tried to act oblivious to her advances. Finally, when the House Elf appeared to announce dinner, Harry announced, "You know, I'm really sorry, but I can't stay. I know I'm being horribly inconsiderate, after all the work you put in, but I hadn't realized that it had grown so late – I have a woman friend waiting for me." He bowed and made his escape.
*UHD*
"How could she!" Hermione fumed, incensed when Harry recounted the evening, "That woman is twice your age"
"More than that. If you count up her husbands, she has to be in her sixties. At least."
"I would say I'm shocked," Huffed Hermione, "but I'm not. I have read about some of the sexual hijinks that purebloods aristocrats get up to it, and it is certainly something, let me tell you. Did you at least find out anything useful?"
"Maybe," Harry decided not to bring up his personal experiences with the 'sexual hijinks' of purebloods aristocrats. "Anastasia made it sound like they used the tree houses fairly often, but while some of the windows around the rest of the mansion had open windows or half-drawn curtains, the windows on the tree house all had their windows closed and the curtains drawn tight." He didn't think that most people would have noticed something like that from such a distance, but he had always had excellent vision. If he had played school quidditch, he would have made an excellent Seeker.
"So what? Now you are going to go back and get ourself invited for an overnight stay, so you can then sneak around after everybody else goes to sleep?"
"Merlin no!" Harry paled. Hermione snickered. "And I don't even want to stay there for dinner – who knows what she will lace the food with!" It would probably be something to turn him into a mindless sex maniac, knowing her reputation, "I'm going to have to sneak in the old fashioned way." He grinned conspiratorially.
"Under your invisibility cloak?"
"Under my…" Harry paused, deflating slightly. "Right, I forgot you knew about that. Yes, exactly that. But first we need to do a little scouting, so I can get a feel of how their household operates." Just because the invisibility cloak made sneaking easier didn't mean that he should stop practicing good tradecraft when he had the time for it. Because you never knew when things would go wrong. "If you're up for it, we can get started now." Harry opened the window and peered around until he spotted a pigeon sitting on a ledge across the narrow lane.
"Imperio"
"Harry!" Hermione hissed in surprise.
"It's ok, I'm using it on an animal." Harry didn't mention that he had no problem using it on (some) people either. Once the pigeon was in the room with them, Harry quickly proceeded to layer several spells onto it, connecting them to the dresser mirror in the bedroom. He then tossed it back out the window, letting it fly free. As it did, the mirror showed everything that it saw. "Ok, I sent it the Zambini estate. We can take turns watching."
"I didn't know you could do that." Hermione gestured at the mirror.
"Yeah, keep that to yourself – that' s a Department of Mysteries secret."
After a moment, Hermione leaned over and gave Harry a hug, "Thank you for telling me."
Harry nodded awkwardly, "Um, you want dinner? I was going to cook something."
"Yeah. And I'll keep an eye on the mirror while you do."
As Harry fried up some fish and a tray of asparagus, his mind kept returning to the changes in Hermione's behavior recently. 'Is she hinting at something romantic?' But it didn't feel like that. No trading of favors driven by lust leading to sex (lots of sex). No secret manipulations. Nothing like how his relationship with Daphne was. 'She's just being nice - if there is no quid pro quo, there is no relationship, romantic or otherwise. We're simply old friends after all.' If Hermione was to be believed, he was her closest friend and had been since they were eleven. 'People who are childhood friends don't end up as lovers. It just doesn't happen.'
Harry brought out the fish and fried veggies on a platter and they ate on the bed. Harry sat facing the mirror, almost never taking his eyes off of it, but after a while Hermione got tired of watching the Zambini staff going about their daily routines and pulled out a book to read as she leaned against Harry's side. 'She's not doing anything she hasn't done before. It's just that kiss is making me overthink things.' And having spent the afternoon with Anastasia Zambini had put him on edge as well.
After an hour, Hermione pronounced muzzily "I'm going to sleep now," and closed her book.
"Ah, sorry for casting the spell on the bedroom mirror – I wasn't thinking. I can try to move it into the other room."
"It's ok. It doesn't bother me. Wake me when you want to go to sleep, and I'll take over watching. I'll take notes". She pressed her back up against Harry.
After she fell asleep, Harry drew the blanket up under her chin and went back to watching the mirror, but watching guards walking their rounds didn't occupy the mind. 'Whatever this is.. I'm not cheating on Daphne. And that's a weird thing to worry about anyway, since Daphne is cheating on her husband with me.'
There was no passion here. This was just.. comfortable. Harry glanced sideways at Hermione's resting face. 'Though she does look cute when she's sleeping.'