Chapter 50: Reflections
London, Ministry of Magic, December 3rd, 1998
Sometimes, Cornelius Fudge wished that he had retired years ago. Right after the death of the Dark Lord. Then he'd be known as the Minister who had defeated the Dark Lord for good. And people would think that if only he were still in charge, Wizarding Britain wouldn't be facing a crisis. Or two, depending on your priorities.
Today was one of those times. A dozen Aurors lost, while the most dangerous Death Eater had escaped. Again. Right after Fiendfyre had ravaged Diagon Alley for the second time in two months, killing thirty people in the process. And everyone was blaming him - as if he had personally ordered the Death Eaters to strike! Even the Daily Prophet was talking about the weak response of the Ministry!
Huffing, he put the newspaper down. He'd have to talk to Barnabas and remind the man that the Daily Prophet was supposed to report current events in a responsible manner. Cornelius was the Minister for Magic, after all, and he was due some respect!
He refilled his teacup and bit into a fresh scone - he couldn't deal with this affair without some sustenance, and it had been over an hour since his breakfast - as his door was opened and his secretary peered inside.
"Sir? Mr Malfoy is here, but he doesn't have an appointment."
Ah, of course. Cornelius should have expected this. Lucius was very concerned about the Death Eaters. Understandably so, of course - his heroic actions against the Dark Lord would have earned him the undying hatred of any Death Eater. He smiled. "Send him in. My door's always open for my good friend Lucius."
Half a minute later, Lucius entered his office. "Good morning, Cornelius."
"Good morning, Lucius. Please, have a seat." Cornelius gestured towards the chair across from his desk. "Would you like some tea?"
"No, thank you."
A little curt. His friend was agitated, then, Cornelius noted. He looked as impeccable as ever, of course, but there was a slight tension to his usually more relaxed pose. Yes, his friend was concerned.
Which meant there was more trouble headed Cornelius's way. But he didn't know yet what kind of trouble. So he smiled and discreetly prompted his friend. "You are aware of yesterday's tragic events, I assume."
"That's why I am here, yes." Lucius nodded. "I've heard a rumour that concerns me."
"Oh?" Cornelius tilted his head slightly.
"Several sources claim that if the DMLE had handled the raid on the Death Eater hideout more competently, Crouch wouldn't have escaped."
"Ah." Well, of course, someone had bungled the raid. Someone was always at fault. The question was: Who's fault had it been? And, more importantly, who did Lucius want to be at fault? Cornelius cleared his throat. "Indeed. I've already received Amelia's preliminary report. She's still investigating the issue, but either the Auror in charge of the raid, Bertie Macmillan, or Potter and Weasley caused this tragedy." There was also Fawley, who, having had the grace to get herself killed, would have been the perfect scapegoat, but Macmillan was accusing Potter and Weasley of insubordination, and they, in turn, accused him of bungling the raid.
"That's what I heard as well. Who's right?"
Oh. Apparently, Lucius didn't have his mind made up yet. That made the whole situation easier to deal with. Slightly easier - James Macmillan and Black had already requested appointments. "Bones hasn't been able to find out the truth yet, but Potter has offered to let her watch his memories in the Black Pensieve," he said.
Lucius slowly nodded. "That would indicate that he's telling the truth."
Or Potter expected Bones to believe that. Cornelius nodded anyway. If Lucius supported Potter in this affair, then Macmillan would have to accept that Cornelius couldn't do anything for his relative. Not with Lucius and Black allied in this.
"Although after what I've heard about the Gringotts attack, I would have expected Potter to ignore Macmillan and do what he thinks is needed," Lucius commented.
Cornelius gasped. "Do you think he let the disaster happen in order to get rid of Macmillan?" That would be… entirely expected of the heir of Black.
"I wouldn't go that far," Lucius said, which, of course, meant he was doing exactly that. "But the difference between Potter's actions in Diagon Alley and on this raid is rather striking."
Cornelius nodded. He knew that Potter was ambitious - his sudden promotion was proof of that - but to go as far as to deliberately sacrifice the lives of his fellow Aurors to advance his career… Amelia would crucify him for that. If she could prove it. On the other hand… "I am certain that Amelia will examine the memories very diligently and find out what happened." Unless, of course, she was in on this? No, not Amelia. She was ruthless and inflexible, but she wouldn't go that far. Not when she could promote Potter anyway.
"It's not the first time a criminal escaped from Potter, is it?"
"The Davis robbery, yes." Cornelius fought not to wince. Another debacle, that.
"Was that ever investigated?" Lucius leaned slightly forward, his hands resting on the handle of his cane.
"Yes, of course."
"Potter's actions as well? If his godfather is finally allowing the Ministry access to his Pensieve, this would be another incident deserving of closer scrutiny. If Potter has nothing to hide, he won't object, would he?"
Cornelius nodded. "An excellent observation. I will mention it to Amelia."
"Thank you." Lucius smiled. "I have the utmost trust that the Ministry will get to the bottom of this."
Cornelius smiled back. This was perfect. Lucius was satisfied, Cornelius could deflect whatever complaints Macmillan could raise, and Amelia would have to deal with Black and Potter.
"Now, is there any news about the investigation into those infamous thieves?" Lucius frowned. "I don't think that we can dismiss the possibility that the thieves are connected to the Death Eaters. They represent a grave threat to the very foundations of our country, after all. If Old Families can be reduced to paupers by such insidious criminals, then everyone is at risk of losing all they hold dear." He shook his head. "We cannot allow them to terrorise the good wizards and witches of Britain, Cornelius!"
Once again, Cornelius fought not to wince. "Well," he began, "with the recent attacks, the hunt for the Death Eaters has, naturally, taken priority, and with the recent, tragic losses, the DMLE's means are limited."
"I'm sure that my fellow members of the Wizengamot will agree that the DMLE cannot afford to neglect this investigation. Sufficient funds shouldn't be an issue."
"It's not the gold, Lucius, that is the problem. Of course, we're doing all we can. But there simply aren't enough wizards and witches with the right qualifications to recruit. We've increased the salary twice already." Cornelius spread his hands. He couldn't conjure Aurors from thin air.
"Maybe the Ministry should be looking into hiring foreigners, then."
"Foreigners?" Cornelius blinked. "As Aurors?"
"Well, mostly Hit-Wizards, I would think. It would free up our own wands from patrolling Gringotts."
"I see." Cornelius did. Hiring foreigners to hold the line against the goblins was a fine idea. They wouldn't need to be able to speak much English for such a task, and if things went really wrong, it wouldn't be British Aurors and Hit-Wizards who were killed by the goblins. "It would take a decision by the Wizengamot, though." A Minister who hired foreign mercenaries on his own was as good as gone.
"I don't think that that will be a problem." Lucius was smiling again.
And so was Cornelius.
*****
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 3rd, 1998
Hermione Granger woke when the sun's rays touched her face and started to arch her back and stretch her arms out, as she usually did in the morning, with a contented sigh. Instead of on a soft pillow, though, the back of her head rested on something harder. And there was something on her chest. She blinked. It was an arm, holding her in place. And she was curled up against a warm body. And she wasn't wearing her pyjamas.
Her eyes shot open as she remembered. Going to Harry's room. Talking to him. Hugging him. Kissing him. And...
She drew a deep, shuddering breath at the memories of the night she had spent. Dear Lord, she had completely lost control! Not, she added to herself with a slight smirk, that Harry had seemed to mind, as she recalled.
Hermione sighed, turning her head to look at him. He was still sleeping, his messy hair spread over the pillow under his head. He looked happy, though - at least that was her impression. She snorted. He better be happy after last night! She certainly was, even if it had happened rather unexpectedly. Suddenly, all her worries hadn't mattered any more, and all that had counted was that she wanted him. But even though she didn't regret anything - other than, perhaps, waiting too long - this would have consequences.
She started to take stock of the situation. They'd need to cast a few cleaning charms. And Mending Charms, she added with a glance at the robes thrown to the floor. She was on the pill, had been ever since Paul, so there was nothing to worry about there. She pressed her lips together. She didn't want to think of Paul. Not now. All she wanted was to stay where she was, next to Harry.
He made a good pillow, and the sun was warm. Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes. It was still early, after all, and she could still nap a little until she had to deal with whatever came of this.
*****
Harry Potter woke up to the sensation of something tickling his nose. Hair, he realised, opening his eyes. Hermione's hair, he added a moment later - even without his glasses, he would never mistake it. Especially so close to him.
He gasped, softly. He was holding a sleeping Hermione in his arms. Her head was resting on his chest. He could feel her body pressed against his, one of her legs draped over his thigh. And both of them were nude.
He smiled, broadly. Of course, they were both nude. They had torn their robes off yesterday evening. Mostly Hermione's doing, too - and hadn't that been a surprise? She hadn't just taken the first step, she had pounced on him.
It's always the quiet ones… No. Hermione was many things, but she wasn't quiet. More like a screamer, to be honest. He chuckled, softly, so as not to wake her, at that memory. In hindsight, he should have expected it. Hermione was never one to do things halfway; she threw herself at anything with a passion few could match.
And yet, he couldn't help worrying about how she would react once she woke up. Would she regret what they had done? Call it a mistake? Blame him for worrying her so much, she lost her mind? Curse him?
No, he told himself, she wouldn't do that.
But a shred of doubt remained. He sighed as he reached over to the sideboard and grabbed his glasses - when had he managed to put them down there? He couldn't remember. Moody would say that was a sign of someone messing with his memories and tell him to check in the Pensieve. He snorted.
With his glasses on, he looked around. Everything was as it should be. Hedwig was on her perch, but not looking at him. Probably mad that he hadn't fed her before he went to sleep. Mr Biggles was in his habitat, basking in the sun on his favourite branch. And... He stiffened. It was already past nine in the morning.
Harry didn't have a set time he had to be at work, not since they had started the Death Eater investigation and had been taken off patrols, and given yesterday's events, he certainly had earned some rest, but it would look better if he didn't take a day off… He blinked. Why hadn't Ron come to wake him up? Or, perhaps, Ron had come and gone again - Harry didn't remember locking the door yesterday.
He groaned. At least it hadn't been Sirius. His godfather would have woken them both up with his gloating. And Hermione would have cursed him.
He felt her move, shifting her weight. She made a noise like a throaty growl, then her head rose, and she looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "Don't disturb me when I'm napping!" she said, pouting. Then her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh."
"Good morning," Harry said, smiling gently at her.
"Morning," she said, rather quickly. She cleared her throat, then wet her lips. "So…" Instead of continuing, she bit her lower lip.
Well, she wasn't screaming or cursing him. "So," Harry replied.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Or moved.
She cleared her throat again. "So. I think we need to talk. About us."
He managed not to wince as he nodded. "Yes."
She took a deep breath; he could see her chest heave. "I don't regret what happened. What we did, I mean. Quite the contrary, to be exact."
That was good. He nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes. Me too. I mean, I feel the same."
"However," she went on, "I'm still not ready for a serious relationship."
"Oh." His smile vanished.
"So, as you said, we should let things develop. See what happens."
He blinked. See what happens? He looked pointedly at her body, still sprawled on top of his, then back at her.
She blushed slightly but nodded. "Yes. See how things develop."
"And no serious relationship?" He couldn't quite keep a hint of sarcasm out of his voice.
She nodded.
As insane as that sounded, he could live with it. For now. He nodded as well.
*****
Hermione Granger had spent the night with Harry. She had woken up in his arms and had discussed their relationship - their lack of it, to be precise - in the nude, on top of him. She would have expected that that was as intimate as it could get - and that nothing could embarrass her afterwards.
And yet, she blushed when she picked up her robes and saw that they had been almost torn apart. They were a stark reminder of how… impulsively she had acted the evening before. How could she have managed to lose control so completely? Probably hormones. And stress. For practical and emotional purposes, they were at war, faced with cruel and dangerous enemies who wanted to kill her, Harry and all their friends and family. A heightened sexual drive was quite normal for someone in her situation - especially someone her age - she was, technically, a teenager still, after all.
"It looks as if Crookshanks had a fight with it."
She gasped as she whipped her head around to glare at Harry. "What?" Did he suspect? "Crookshanks wouldn't do that!" Really, he was the best tomcat you could have - he had spotted Lestrange, too!
Harry snorted as he slid off the bed and picked up his own robes. "Well, he'd probably have done more damage. Probably."
Hermione was briefly distracted by the view of his backside. And the scratches on his back. Had she done that? Probably. Then she huffed and quickly mended their robes with two charms.
"Thanks," Harry said as they dressed. "I expected him to wake us up this morning so we'd feed him."
She snorted. "He's the soul of discretion." And he knew not to bother her so early.
"Which can't be said about the rest of the family," Harry said with a sigh.
Oh. Hermione winced. She hadn't thought of that. The dog would be insufferable. Jeanne would smile smugly. And Ron would beam at them.
And all of them would assume that she and Harry were a couple. A serious couple.
She muttered a curse under her breath.
Harry heard, though. "What's wrong?" He frowned, glancing around.
She grimaced. "What do we tell the others?"
He frowned and opened his mouth, then closed it and took a breath. "What do you mean?"
She pressed her lips together in frustration before answering: "They'll think that we're in a serious relationship."
His eyebrows rose a smidgen. "And you want them to think that we're… just having sex?"
Put like that, it did sound bad. And she did want more. Far more. But it couldn't be helped. Not with her secret. She sighed through clenched teeth. "I guess we'll have to tell them that the exact nature of our relationship is our business, then, and none of theirs."
"And let them make up their minds about our relationship?"
She glared at him. She was trying her best to keep this from becoming a problem, and he seemed to think it was funny. "They'll do that anyway. You know Sirius." The dog probably had spent an hour thinking up awful jokes and crude remarks. "I'd bet that he'll offer us the use of their playroom."
"Ah, yes, he probably will," Harry answered after a slight but noticeable pause.
Perhaps she should try sneaking back to her room… no, their friends would already be aware that she hadn't slept in her room when they had to feed Crookshanks. She sighed.
"Let's get this over with."
*****
They weren't saying anything. They were just smiling far too broadly and exchanging glances that were far too obvious. Especially Sirius and Jeanne. Hermione Granger gritted her teeth as she buttered a scone. She knew what they were thinking, but they weren't saying it. They weren't even asking what had happened, so she and Harry couldn't even tell them that this was none of their business.
In short, the bloody dog and the rest of their friends weren't playing along! She lifted her teacup to her lips to hide her scowl. Not even Ron was saying anything. Not about her and Harry, at least - he was talking to Harry about work.
Not even Kreacher was muttering about inappropriate relationships; the house-elf was just his usual grumpy self as he placed another plate with sausages on the table.
This was the dog's fault - she knew it. She glared at him.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, acting as if he didn't know what he was doing. The bloody dog!
"No," she pressed out through clenched teeth. "Everything's fine."
"Good, good!" He beamed at her.
She looked at Crookshanks, but her trusted guard was obviously not on duty right now. He was focusing on eating; they must have forgotten to feed the poor cat!
And Harry was useless as well.
Hermione sighed - behind her teacup - and grabbed another scone. There would be a reckoning! As soon as Harry and Ron left for work.
*****
London, Ministry of Magic, December 3rd, 1998
"So… that was a rather big first step, wasn't it?"
Harry Potter stopped checking the memos on his desk and glanced at Ron. His friend was smiling broadly at him.
Harry shook his head. "Took you long enough to ask, didn't it?"
Ron shrugged, still smiling. "Sirius insisted on not saying anything. He said that he didn't want to scare you off."
"Scare me off?" Harry was confused.
"You and Hermione, from staying a couple," Ron clarified.
"Ah." Harry sighed.
"You are a couple, aren't you?" Ron asked, suddenly looking serious.
"The exact nature of our relationship is no one's business but our own," Harry quoted Hermione.
Ron rolled his eyes. "You spent the night together, and she didn't look like she regretted it this morning."
"Yes."
"So…?" Ron tilted his head.
"None of your business," Harry said.
"Come on! You two have been dancing around each other for months! Maybe years! And you told me all your plans to ask her out - or make her ask you out. Spill!" Ron leaned forward, both hands on his desk.
Harry drew a slow breath. Hermione had been clear about her wish to keep the details of their relationship private, but Ron was his best friend. "It's complicated."
"What?"
Harry sighed. "Don't tell this to anyone. Not even Luna." Especially not Luna. He looked at Ron until his friend nodded. "She's not ready for a serious relationship."
"You slept with each other. How more serious can you get?" Ron shook his head, then blinked. "You did have sex, didn't you?"
"Yes." Harry sighed. "I know."
"Wait… is this like your affair with that sixth year, Diana? No commitment?"
"Daria," Harry corrected him. "And no, it's not like that." At least Hermione hadn't said anything about just having fun. And she certainly hadn't acted like Daria. "We agreed to see how things develop."
Ron shook his head and snorted. "I guess you'll still be 'seeing how things develop' when you're about to get married."
If only. Harry frowned at his friend. "I'm certain that this is Paul's fault."
"Might be," Ron answered after a moment. "Are you planning to talk to the git?"
Harry took a deep breath through his clenched teeth. "I want to, but… Hermione might not like me going to Paul behind her back." In fact, he was sure she'd be upset. And he didn't want to upset his not-quite-yet-girlfriend while they were still 'waiting and seeing', or whatever you might call the current state of their relationship.
"Yeah, mate. She wouldn't like that." Ron nodded. "So… it wasn't a big step."
"Well…" Harry fought not to grin as he remembered last night. "I wouldn't say that."
*****
"Madam Bones." Harry Potter nodded, standing at attention in front of the witch's desk.
"Aurors Potter and Weasley." Bones returned the nod but didn't tell them to take a seat. That wasn't a good sign, was it? "I've read every report covering the Herefordshire raid."
Harry nodded again and struggled not to exchange a glance with Ron.
Bones narrowed her eyes slightly, as if she were waiting for a comment, then sniffed once when both Harry and Ron remained silent. "There were significant differences, and not just between yours and Macmillan's."
That was to be expected. It was difficult to focus on anything other than your enemy when you were fighting.
"However," Bones went on, "the gist of the events is clear. While you questioned orders, you didn't disobey them. During the battle, at least."
"Yes, Ma'am," Harry confirmed.
She glared at him. "But in the middle of a fight, the difference between questioning orders and insubordination is very hard to realise. Macmillan's accusations weren't without some justification."
"His stupidity was going to ruin the raid, Ma'am," Ron blurted out. "He was treating this as if it were a normal fight."
"It was obvious that standard tactics wouldn't work," Harry added, "and he didn't listen to advice."
"And what should he have done instead?" Bones asked, raising one eyebrow - the one which wasn't above her monocle.
Macmillan should have let them run the raid. Harry didn't say that, of course. "He should have kept one of us in reserve in the air so they could intercept Crouch when he made his escape."
"You told him to keep both of you in reserve," Bones pointed out.
"With no enemy in sight, that would have been the best spot for us. One of us could have engaged Lestrange as soon as she attacked Abigail - the Curse-Breaker," Harry retorted.
"Did you think of that when you questioned Macmillan's orders?" Bones asked.
"It was obvious, Ma'am," Harry said. "That's how we would have done it." If they had been in charge.
"Auror Fawley ordered you to protect the Curse-Breaker - the biggest weakness of the entire raid. And Lestrange did attack her, didn't she?" Bones narrowed her eyes slightly.
"Yes, Ma'am. But either of us could have kept her at bay until the wards fell. Abigail had already prepared the wards during her first visit," Ron explained.
Bones frowned. "Macmillan and Fawley weren't aware of that."
"We mentioned it in the briefing," Harry protested.
"You mentioned that you had entered the lodge through the wards. You didn't spell out that that meant the wards could be torn down much more quickly than expected. Neither Macmillan nor Fawley had any special Curse-Breaking knowledge or training." Bones shook her head. "But they knew that a Curse-Breaker is very vulnerable when taking down wards and needs the best protection available."
"One of us would have sufficed," Harry said.
"It's standard procedure not to split up partners," Bones pointed out, "because they are used to fighting side by side. That makes them more effective in a battle."
"We can fight together without having to stick together," Ron said. "Moody made sure of that."
Bones shook her head. "The average Auror wasn't trained by Moody. We have standard procedures for a reason - in the middle of a fight, people usually can't think too clearly and fall back on their training."
Which meant they should be trained correctly, in Harry's opinion. Yesterday's mess wouldn't have happened if that had been the case.
"The middle of a battle, or a hastily thrown-together raid, isn't the right place to introduce new tactics." Bones studied them. "Nor is it the place and time to argue orders."
"Should we have let them get killed without even trying to stop it?" Ron asked.
"Would you have been able to stop it? Stop them from getting killed by Lestrange as soon as they attacked her?" Bones again raised one eyebrow. "Or flying at her and getting caught in Fiendfyre?"
"Perhaps," Harry said. "We would have tried our best, at least."
"As did Macmillan," Bones retorted.
And his best wasn't good enough.
Bones sighed. "I'll watch your memories, and then I'll decide how to sort out this mess. The Minister wants a scapegoat." She had to have noticed Harry's reaction since she added: "And Malfoy's pressuring him to put the blame on Macmillan."
Harry blinked. "He must be more afraid of the Death Eaters than I thought."
Bones glared at him. "You have a very high opinion of yourself, Auror Potter."
"Malfoy must share it," Ron retorted, "or he'd be trying to blame us for this mess."
That earned him a glare as well. Bones pressed her lips together. "And I'll be seeing for myself who is to blame for this. Provided your godfather agreed to let us use his Pensieve."
Harry nodded. "Yes, he said he'd make an exception."
"Figures." Bones shook her head and stood. "Let's not keep the esteemed member of the Wizengamot waiting, then."
*****
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 3rd, 1998
Hermione Granger had expected the dog to make crude jokes about her and Harry spending the night together. She had been bracing herself for lewd comments and embarrassing questions. Even bragging about having known this all along. If not during breakfast, then after Harry and Ron had left.
None of that had taken place. The stupid dog had kept smiling far too widely, and went to his office to pretend to work. He hadn't even called her to him under some pretext.
She pressed her lips together and focused on her plans for the next diversion. And on her plans for Greengrass Manor. The timing would be tight, even if Jeanne managed to manipulate the enchanted mirrors. On the other hand, if they ran the diversionary heist late this month, the Aurors might not expect another heist so close on the heels of an - apparently - failed one. But too close, and they would all be worked up and more attentive...
She sighed. Since the date of the Greengrass heist was fixed already, she would have to guess in advance which time frame for the diversion would work out best. Which was a good thing - she wouldn't be betraying Harry's confidence by judging the timing according to his reaction.
"You don't sound like a witch who just had a night of passion with the wizard she's wanted for months."
Hermione slowly turned her head and glanced at the witch standing in the doorway. "Sleeping with Harry didn't do anything to make our next heists any easier."
"So you did sleep with him." Jeanne smiled and closed the door behind her. "I was starting to wonder whether Sirius had misinterpreted what he had seen."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What he had seen?" Had the dog spied on her and Harry?
"He went to wake up Harry this morning," Jeanne said, "and saw you two in each other's arms."
So, they hadn't locked the door. The dog had done it after barging in on them, and she hadn't noticed. Sloppy. Hermione clenched her teeth. And he had caught an eyeful, seeing their state of undress in the morning. She drew a hissing breath through her teeth. "I see."
"So it wasn't some platonic comforting to ward off nightmares."
"What?" Hermione stared at her friend.
Jeanne shrugged with a smirk. "That was my worst-case assumption."
"Worst-case?" She was starting to sound like a broken record.
"Yes." Jeanne scoffed. "You've been dragging your feet for far too long."
"For good reasons!" Hermione protested. "Any relationship with Harry has no future as long as he doesn't know about our heists." She bit her lower lip. She wanted to come clean and tell Harry. Be completely honest. Get it out in the open. But she couldn't, not without revealing her friends' secrets as well. And she couldn't do that to them.
"You think your relationship is doomed?"
"We're not in a serious relationship. We're still seeing how things develop." At least Harry thought that.
Jeanne shook her head. "Neither of you is the kind to enjoy an open or casual relationship. Both of you are far too... serious for that."
The slight pause before 'serious' told Hermione that Jeanne had had another word in mind. Probably 'uptight' or something similar. "I'm not going to enter a serious relationship with him under false pretences!" she snapped. She couldn't do that to him.
Jeanne shook her head again and looked at Hermione as if she had just said something extremely foolish.
Hermione huffed and pointed at the parchment in front of her. "I have a question about your changes to the mirror," she said, changing the subject.
The witch obviously had been listening to the stupid dog too much.
*****
Bones was taking her time watching their memories, Harry Potter thought as he waited for the Head of the DMLE to leave the Pensieve. More than double the time the fight had lasted for his memories, and now the same amount for Ron's.
"She's thorough," Ron said.
Harry glanced at his friend. "Finished chatting with Luna?"
"She's got her afternoon lessons." Ron grinned. "She's still trying to figure out a way to selectively silence the mirror so we can use it during her lessons."
"That won't help her grades," Harry said.
Ron chuckled. "Limited to the uninteresting subjects. And it'll help once she's finished with Hogwarts and starts working full-time."
"As a journalist for The Quibbler?" Harry asked. That had been her plan since before she started at Hogwarts, as far as he knew.
"Yes. Magizoologist and Naturalist, too." Ron smiled.
"She'll be travelling a lot, then." And to places where she couldn't return to Britain easily or quickly.
Harry's friend shrugged. "Won't be worse than now. Better, I think - we'll have more time."
"Ah." Harry didn't think he'd like that - being separated from your girlfriend for stretches of time…
Before he could say anything else, Bones, who had been standing frozen with her head in the faint cloud above the Pensieve, moved again and straightened.
"Are you finished, Ma'am?" Harry asked.
She frowned for a moment, then schooled her features. "Yes. I've seen all I need to deal with this incident. We'll return to the Ministry." She walked past them towards the door.
Harry exchanged a glance with Ron, raising his eyebrows, as they followed the witch. Bones looked rather angry.
Sirius and Hermione were waiting for them in the entrance hall. Harry's godfather probably had had Kreacher keep an eye on them and call him once Bones was finished. "Amelia! Finished already?" he said with a too-wide smile.
"Obviously."
Sirius ignored her dry tone. "I hope it was helpful."
Now she frowned. "The Pensieve would be very useful for our Department. Many cases could be solved with such a device."
Sirius shrugged. "Undoubtedly."
"For someone who suffered from a great injustice, you appear remarkably unconcerned about preventing similar miscarriages of justice." Bones's tone was growing sharper. "Unless it concerns your godson, of course."
Hermione sniffed, and Harry tensed. "It would be a waste of a rare magical item," she said, "since the Wizengamot is only concerned with politics, not justice."
Bones glared at her. "It is to be expected that you would claim that."
"Like Sirius, I have extensive personal experience with the Ministry's sort of 'justice'." Hermione's voice dripped with contempt.
"And with politically motivated pardons," Bones retorted.
"Indeed. A pardon, not an exoneration," Hermione said. "So Malfoy's 'good friends' wouldn't be revealed as having perjured themselves. Politics, in other words."
"You could have proven your innocence by taking Veritaserum. You didn't." Bones's face twisted into a slight sneer, clearly expressing her view of what this said about Hermione.
"I wasn't about to help Voldemort and his followers by revealing our secrets to them." Hermione scowled at the older witch. "And why should I have to take Veritaserum, instead of those who accuse me?" She scoffed. "Is 'innocent until proven guilty' too muggle for the Wizengamot?"
"There was plenty of evidence incriminating you," Bones told her.
"Falsified evidence to frame me." Hermione scoffed, again. "But at least I received a trial. Others weren't as fortunate."
"Indeed," Sirius cut in. "What good is a Pensieve if you're not even bothering with a trial? And we both know that it'd be misused by everyone in the Ministry for their personal business. Or simply to relive the last time they had sex with their spouse," he added with a toothy grin.
Harry struggled but managed not to laugh at Bones's expression. Ron coughed quite loudly.
"Those are excuses, and you know it," Bones said. "Ultimately, you're only interested in your personal power. Like your opponents in the Wizengamot."
"No, Amelia." Sirius kept smiling. "I'm just not interested in supporting a corrupt system."
"And in denying us the means to do our duty to the best of our ability, you hazard that innocents might end up suffering as you suffered." Bones stood her ground.
"A system where you have to prove your innocence is the last system I would want to support." Sirius gestured towards the fireplace. "Have a nice day, Amelia."
"Goodbye."
Harry quickly followed Bones to the Floo connection. This wasn't the moment to stay and talk to his family. The Head of the DMLE was angry enough already.
*****
London, Ministry of Magic, December 3rd, 1998
Bones's mood hadn't improved an hour later when Harry Potter and Ron were called to her office again. Once more, she didn't offer them a seat. "I've watched your memories, Aurors Potter and Weasley. And I'm not impressed."
Harry clenched his teeth and nodded. They hadn't done anything wrong.
Bones shook her head. "This was worse than I suspected. I've told you before that the middle of a raid isn't the place to question orders or introduce new tactics. You had your reasons for doing so, but you went about it in a very confrontational manner."
Harry didn't think Macmillan would have listened, no matter how politely they had phrased their criticism.
"However, your behaviour after Lestrange's death…" Bones glared at him through her monocle. "Even taking into account that you were dealing with Fiendfyre, your actions were out of line. You threatened to stun Macmillan!"
"He was about to curse me!" Harry retorted.
"He was raising his wand."
"That's what I said." Harry nodded.
"Never raise a wand at someone you don't want to curse or heal," Ron quoted Moody. "And never assume someone's about to heal you unless you can trust them and you're visibly hurt."
"And you assume that Macmillan would have been so reckless as to attack you while you were containing Fiendfyre?" Bones sounded incredulous.
"We couldn't risk it," Harry said. Macmillan was an arrogant idiot.
She shook her head again. "Moody's not the best role model."
Harry pressed his lips together. Moody was the best Auror the Ministry had. And even in a coma in St Mungo's, he was probably doing more for the Ministry than half the Aurors by not messing up!
"All of you - you two and Macmillan - were upset by the battle, the danger you were facing from the Fiendfyre and the loss of your comrades. That explains but doesn't fully excuse your attitudes. I should reprimand all three of you."
Harry tensed. He hadn't done anything wrong!
"But the Minister wants someone to take responsibility for the mess, and Macmillan was in charge. Nominally, at least," Bones went on with narrowed eyes. "And Malfoy and your godfather are both backing you." She snorted. "So he's out of luck."
Harry wanted to ask what would happen to Macmillan but held his tongue. It wasn't his fault that the other Auror hadn't listened and had tried to blame Harry for his mistakes. Not really. He had no reason to feel guilty.
Bones glared at both of them. "That doesn't mean I condone your attitude. If you act like this again, I'll make you regret it, no matter what Malfoy and Black do. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Harry and Ron answered.
"Dismissed."
*****
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, December 3rd, 1998
"So Bones wanted to punish you and Ron? Typical!" Hermione Granger huffed.
Harry, sitting on his bed, shrugged. "It was mostly due to our attitude."
"You were stressed and under great pressure," she retorted. "And saddled with an incompetent pureblood." She shook her head, noting that she needed to cut her hair again. "And doesn't this prove that Bones only cares for what the Wizengamot wants? Do you think if you and Ron were muggleborns she'd have reprimanded all three of you? Or do you think she'd have let Macmillan off because of his family?" That stupid hypocrite, talking about justice while defending corruption and nepotism! She felt angry just remembering their talk today.
Harry snorted.
"Exactly!" Hermione nodded sharply. "It's all about power and influence. Of course, if you and Ron were muggleborns, you wouldn't have become Aurors anyway."
"That's not true. After the losses we've suffered, they're taking anyone."
She clenched her teeth before answering. "Only because they lost so many - probably because inept purebloods got them killed."
"Well, not many can face the likes of Lestrange and Crouch," he said, sighing.
"All the more reason to let you and Ron handle them."
"Can't argue with that," he admitted, grinning.
"Well," she said, sighing, "perhaps this stupid affair will have something good come of it - all the inept purebloods who only reached their positions thanks to nepotism might think twice before trying to order you around after this."
"Well, we can hope."
He was looking at her with a strange expression as he said that. She frowned - why would he… Oh. She blinked, then smiled and sat down next to him.
"So, did Sirius tease you about us?" he asked with a smile.
She pouted. "No. He didn't say anything. He just kept smiling at me." The stupid dog.
"I talked to Ron. I told him about us."
"You did?" She narrowed her eyes slightly. What had he told Ron?
"I just told him that we're not in a serious relationship but still figuring things out."
"Ah." She nodded, mollified. "I told Jeanne the same." More or less.
"Ah. But not Sirius."
She scoffed. "He can ask Jeanne." And the dog probably had, anyway.
He sighed. "Or me. I wonder why he hasn't talked to me yet."
She rolled her eyes. "He probably thinks it's funnier to let us stew."
"Or he's afraid that we'll break up if he teases us too much."
Hermione laughed at that. The dog knew her better than that - as if she would break up with Harry over teasing!
Harry smiled a little lopsidedly. "It was just a thought." He hesitated, taking a deep breath and licking his lips. "So…"
She knew what he was about to ask. And she answered him with a kiss. Which turned into a series of kisses. And to their robes ending up on the floor, again.
*****
London, Ministry of Magic, December 4th, 1998
"Morning, Bathilda." Harry Potter nodded at the Auror as he and Ron entered the break room. "How are you doing?"
"I'm doing great!" She beamed at them.
Harry cocked his head, surprised, as he filled his teacup. Even for the former Hufflepuff, that was surprisingly cheerful.
"We've caught a gang of thieves!" she said as he sat at their usual table.
Harry blinked. They had caught the master thieves? No. That was not possible. That sort of news would have spread like Fiendfyre.
"Not the ones behind the Bulstrode and Davis robberies, of course," she went on. "But we arrested two thieves who had been robbing people at Quidditch matches." She smiled widely. "We caught them thanks to me canvassing the shops in Diagon Alley for stolen brooms! I compared the results with the other thefts that had been reported and found matches. The shop owner agreed to call us next time he saw the people selling brooms again, and John and I caught them in the middle of haggling."
"Great work," Ron said. "People who steal from Quidditch fans are the worst!"
"Did they resist arrest?" Harry asked.
Bathilda scoffed. "They tried. Didn't even get their wands half-way out before we stunned them."
"Good." Ron smiled.
"They weren't the kind of thieves breaking into manors," Bathilda said. "But still - two criminals caught is a good thing!"
"Yes." Harry took a sip from his cup.
"We're working on other cases, too." She lowered her voice a little. "We've got no leads on the master thieves, but we've found leads to other thieves."
Harry was about to ask for more details when Nott entered the break room.
"Hello, Bathilda. Good work with those thieves." He smiled at Bathilda.
"Thank you, Theo."
"Potter. Weasley." Nott took a seat and summoned a teacup.
"Nott." Harry didn't quite growl but came close.
Nott filled his cup, then glanced at Harry. "Macmillan got demoted this morning. Lost his senior position," the Auror said with his usual sneer.
"Oh." Bathilda pressed her lips together, and Harry caught her glancing at him and Ron.
"Git deserved it," Ron said. "Messed up the raid."
"Really?" Nott scoffed. "According to what I heard, he simply didn't have the kind of influence you two have. Both Black and Malfoy were pushing to blame Macmillan for the mess, no matter what actually happened." He leaned forward. "I guess it's not nepotism and corruption when it happens to benefit you, huh?"
Harry matched Nott's sneer. "Macmillan tried to blame us for his mistakes. It backfired."
"Thanks to your godfather's gold."
"No, because we could prove that we didn't disobey his orders," Harry shot back.
"Oh, yes - thanks to Black's Pensieve. Which he won't let the Corps use, just you two. Must be nice to have such privileges."
"Jealous, Nott?" Ron scoffed.
Nott scoffed as well. "Hardly. I, at least, don't rely on my family to bail me out of trouble."
"You wouldn't even be here if not for your family," Harry retorted.
"What?"
"Stop it!" Bathilda yelled. "All of you, stop it!" She looked angry. "I'm sick of you attacking each other and ruining our breaks!" The witch stood, her chair getting pushed back and almost toppling over. "Tell me when you can take a break without bickering like idiots!" After a glare at everyone at the table, she stormed out of the room.
Harry watched her go, then glared at Nott. "Good work."
Nott sneered at him. "Getting used to blaming others for your faults, huh?"
Harry bit down on his first response and stood. "Just keep telling yourself that," he spat and walked away.
"Bloody git," he heard Ron mutter as they left the break room.
*****
An hour later, Harry Potter still was mulling the scene over. Nott was a git, but… He sighed, put down the sheet at which he had been staring for five minutes without reading it and looked at Ron. "Do you think that Nott's accusation was fair?"
His friend looked up, frowning. "Nott's a git. Bloody snake."
"But you know what Bones said. She wanted to reprimand all of us, not just Macmillan," Harry said.
"So? She was wrong. Macmillan shouldn't have been in charge. If we had been in charge, we wouldn't have lost so many people, and Crouch wouldn't have escaped." Ron shook his head.
Harry sighed again. His friend was correct, but still… "It feels wrong to use Sirius's influence. That's how Macmillan and Nott and all the others corrupt the system."
"Didn't you become an Auror because as the Boy-Who-Lived, you'd have more influence than a normal rookie Auror and so wouldn't be easily stopped like others?"
"Yes, I did. But this feels…" Harry shrugged. "I feel like a hypocrite, denouncing Nott and his friends for using their families' influence while doing the same."
"Well, what's the alternative? Letting them drive us out? We can't change the system if we're sidelined or fired." Ron sighed. "It's not ideal, but what else can we do?"
"I know." His friend was right. But Harry didn't like it. "I wish there was another way."
"Not in this Ministry. Dad and Percy use Sirius's influence as well, you know. And others', of course. It's how things are - and why we're working to change it."
Harry nodded, even though it still felt wrong to him.
But he couldn't think of any alternative that would work.
*****
Argelès-sur-Mer, Pyrenées Orientales, France, December 7th, 1998
Hermione Granger sighed as she looked around the old mansion. "When you said you wanted to buy a house in France, I expected something a little closer to Britain. Not a mansion practically on the border to Spain."
Sirius acted surprised. "Why would I do that? Might as well stay in Britain then. The weather's much better here!"
"We're also much closer to the Barbary Coast," Hermione pointed out. Granted, raids hadn't happened since Dumbledore had had a word with the leaders of the various wizarding enclaves of the Barbary Coast in the 1950s, but there were still the occasional kidnappings.
"We're not on the coast, and the wards are strong," Sirius retorted.
"And if anyone is stupid enough to attack us, they'll regret it," Jeanne added.
Sometimes, Jeanne was too French. Hermione shook her head. It wasn't her gold. And, if she was honest, it looked like a great place to spend a holiday. With Harry. They could enjoy the pool, travel the countryside, see the sights… They wouldn't have to worry about Aurors, manors or Death Eaters either. Just the two of them, together, enjoying...
"You like it too!" Sirius was positively gloating.
She gave him a flat stare. "I'm trying to look at the bright side of this."
"It's a great holiday home, isn't it?"
She gritted her teeth, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of hearing her admit that he was right. He still hadn't said anything about her relationship with Harry. Not to her, at least. She turned to Jeanne. "How long will you need to calibrate the mirror?"
"A day, I think. Although we'll need to furnish the house first," her friend replied. "The background has to match."
That would take a week, at least, Hermione thought. Well, there were still a few more preparations to do in London, anyway. "We'll need to adapt the wards, too. Probably install a secret room as well. And an escape tunnel." Just in case.
"There's already an escape tunnel," Jeanne said. "The mansion was built at a time when Barbary Coast raiders were a bigger threat, and you couldn't trust your wards to hold them off until help arrived."
"And we'll need to install a playroom," Sirius said, grinning. "To keep up appearances. Although I assume it'll also be put to good use."
It was clear what he meant - his grin grew even wider - but if she reacted to that, he'd claim he'd meant Jeanne and himself. Hermione sighed. "Harry and Ron will weigh in on the security as well." Harry would probably try to get some guard animals again, no matter how impractical they'd be.
She narrowed her eyes. That reminded her of something. She nodded at Sirius and Jeanne. "I'll be back in a bit. I need to check out the garden."
She changed and headed out on soft paws. When she had inspected the garden, she had seen signs of another cat using it.
And that had to be remedied at once - this was her territory now!
*****
