Uncle Quentin's Spy (Harry Potter/Buffy) (Complete)

Chapter 4: Changing Plans

Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk and ignoring the parchments in front of him. He had more important things to consider than the monthly expenses of the school. Unlike Minerva he was not too concerned, much less angry about the fact that Harry and Miss Granger had managed to push him and his deputy Headmistress into committing quite a number of crimes to cover up the incident with Madam Umbridge. They had not planned on that, after all, and at the end of the day, obliviating the undersecretary and placing compulsion charms on her was a small matter given what was at stake. Minerva would realize that in time as well, and let go of her anger.

No, what had shaken him was what he had found out during his brief glimpse into Miss Granger’s mind. Not only was the young witch far more ruthless and intelligent than he had thought, which was a concern for the future, but she had a connection to the Watcher’s Council! And through her, Harry! Dumbledore hadn’t been able to catch more than a glimpse of the girl’s memories, but it had been clear that the Watchers were aware of Voldemort’s return, and had called the Slayer to Britain.

Dumbledore closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose. If the Slayer was about to hunt wizards, then that could lead to a war between Wizarding Britain and the Watcher’s Council. Many wizards would fear a witch hunt, and Voldemort’s supporters would easily be able to paint all muggleborn wizards as traitors and a danger due to the muggleborn Watchers. And the war would be a disaster. The losses the wizards would take fighting watchers and the Slayer were a small concern compared to the consequences of actually beating the Watcher’s Council - an outcome that was quite likely, given the disparity in numbers of wizards. Not even the Slayer was enough to counter that.

He took a deep breath. If the Watcher’s Council and with it the Slayer were destroyed, the world would be doomed. Multiple prophecies stated that clearly. A war with the Council had to be averted, at any cost.

But how to achieve that? Fudge was not listening to him, and not even the threat of the Slayer might change that, as long as Malfoy had the Minister’s ear. And the Watchers… Miss Granger didn’t trust him that much, he had gleaned that as well, and once she realized he had read her thoughts - which she likely had already, come to think of, since she’d know what occlumency was created for - she’d trust him even less.

And yet, what alternatives did he have? He could not trust anyone else to handle such an important matter, and the Watchers would trust him even less than Miss Granger did. He knew the kind of wizard that joined the Council. Those who saw no future in Wizarding Britain, and were so disillusioned that they did not mind spending the often short rest of their lives fighting threats even aurors feared to face. And many of them would blame him, as the most visible and famous wizard of Britain, for it. If only he had the power so many believed he had!

He had to find an occlumency teacher whom not only he trusted, but whom the two children would trust as well. That narrowed the selection down quite a bit. They did not trust him enough for that, he knew that already. Alastor was, while trusted, far too suspicious of everyone to teach such a delicate subject. Nymphadora was a possible teacher, but she had to watch her steps with the Ministry already, and she was so young still… Remus would be a good choice, he had proven he could be trusted, but could Dumbledore spare him now, when he was tracking down the new leader of Greyback’s pack? He pondered the situation, and nodded. Protecting Harry and repairing some of the trust of Miss Granger and likely Harry as well that he had lost were more important now than dealing with the werewolves.

He wrote down a brief note, sealed it, and turned to his oldest companion. “Fawkes, might you be willing to carry this to Remus for me?”

*****​

Harry was letting his thoughts wander in History of Magic. That was nothing unusual - everyone did it. He suspected even Hermione was not really paying attention to the droning ghost teacher, surely having read the book ahead of the year already. Hermione… the current subject of his wandering thoughts. And, he added as he snuck a glance at his best friend, and now girlfriend, subject of his wandering eyes. Girlfriend… he couldn’t keep a dreamy smile off his face remembering the last evening.

Hermione had licked her lips, then grabbed his head and kissed him. A quick kiss, but not just a peck on his lips, a proper kiss. He had been so surprised, he hadn’t known how to react. She had blushed, avoiding his eyes, fidgeting and growing nervous, while he had been standing there, staring at her his best friend. Who had just kissed him. When he had realized how she was reacting, growing nervous, anxious, he had suddenly known how to react, had reached out, gently pulled her head towards him, and kissed her. She had smiled, so full of happiness, and he … he had been sure that if he had cast a Patronus right then and there, that the dementors would have felt it in Azkaban.

He hadn’t known how long they had stood there, embracing each other, but just as they had been about to kiss each other again, they had heard steps coming closer, and had broken apart out of reflex - an action he had regretted at once. For a moment, Hermione had looked hurt. Then she had taken his hand and led him to an empty classroom, evading whoever was nearby. Curfew hadn’t passed yet, so they had not been doing anything wrong, but with Umbridge being obliviated by the Headmaster, they certainly had had something to hide.

Hermione had cast a privacy spell on the door, and had turned to him. “So… what do we do now?”

“About Umbridge? Play along with the Headmaster’s plan, I think.” Harry had answered, slightly confused.

“I mean about us.” Hermione had sounded far less sure of herself than she usually did when discussing things.

“Us being a couple, you mean.” He had smiled at her, to reassure her, and put her hands on her shoulders. She had opened her mouth in silent surprise, and adorable sight that had made him want to kiss her again right then.

“Yes.” She had nodded, her eyes not straying from his, and he had kissed her then. It hadn’t been what Ron would have called ‘snogging’, but it had left both of them flushed.

“Do you want to hide our relationship from the others?” Hermione had met his eyes with an unreadable expression, and he had remembered the reactions to that cursed article in the Daily Prophet, last year. The letter with the bubotuber pus.

“I don’t want to, but if you think you’ll be safer…” Harry had trailed off when she had shaken her head emphatically, sending her hair flying.

“No, no. I don’t want to hide it.” For a moment he had thought she was about to cry, there had been something in her eyes, but it had passed. “We’re hiding enough already. The Council, Umbridge, our planned training…”

“Good.” He had pulled her into another hug then, and had kissed her again.

“We can use our relationship as a cover for our training, and our… information gathering.” Hermione had continued, after the kiss. Ever the practical one. “People will assume we’re off … snogging, when we are actually training.”

“We’ll still snog though. And not just to keep up our cover.” He had wanted to tease her, but it had come out more of a question then he had planned. For a moment he had felt doubt. Was he good enough for her? What if he bungled this up. He hadn’t kissed anyone before Hermione. And she had been with Krum. Maybe she expected more of him…

“We will.” This time, Hermione had used her tongue during the kiss.

“Oi, Mate. Wake up. Lesson’s over.” Harry was shaken from his reminiscing by Ron’s hand on his shoulder. Ron… they had yet to tell him.

*****​

Hermione was waiting for Harry and Ron in an unused classroom on the third floor. It wasn’t ideal for training, but with a couple spells on the door including an illusion that covered it and made it appear as a blank wall, it should be safe enough from getting discovered by a teacher or prefect. She rearranged the desks she had shunted to the back again, but for the one she was sitting on, with her legs dangling. The young witch wasn’t nervous, not really. Compared to what she had faced, and would face in the future, telling Ron that she and Harry were now dating was not particularly daunting. Or to be more precise, it shouldn’t be. But she couldn’t help being afraid of losing her other best friend. Ron had a jealous streak that sometimes got the better of him, like when Harry had been named the fourth Champion of the Triwizard Tournament, last year. If he decided Harry and her being a couple meant they didn’t want to be friends with him anymore…

She did not want to dwell on that. Harry had mentioned Ron could be jealous of him, but she didn’t think that would be the case. Well, maybe in the sense of Harry getting a girlfriend before Ron, but she was quite certain Ron didn’t fancy her. That one time at the Yule Ball didn’t prove a thing. She shoved the thought away. They had bigger concerns anyway - Voldemort, Death Eaters, and the danger of wizards reading their minds. She had read up on legilimency, and it required eye contact, so they had at least some, if rather weak, form of defense. If anyone read her mind and found out about the Council, and the Slayer… if Dumbledore had read her mind...

The door opened, and Harry and Ron entered. “Did you see the door?” She asked, before either could say anything?

“Yes, Hermione, your spell worked. Ron couldn’t see it, but I could.” Harry answered, closing the door. Ron frowned.

“Good. My spell worked then. It allows selected people to see through the illusion. I’ll add you to it next time, Ron.” Hermione stated happily and jumped down from the desk she had been sitting on. She wanted to hug and kiss Harry, but didn’t.

“So… what’s this all about?” Ron was looking around, a bit too nonchalantly. The redhead was nervous, Hermione knew him well enough to tell. Harry took the initiative.

“With Voldemort back it’s just a matter of time until he or his Death Eaters comes at me, and at my friends. So, we’ll be preparing for that. Spells, tactics, gear. Well be mostly training here, during the term, and then with Sirius and Remus and whoever else helps, over the holidays. It’s not as if we’ll be learning anything in Defense this year.” The wizard scoffed at that.

“It won’t be a study group though, or a dueling club.” Hermione added. meeting Ron’s eyes. “We won’t be learning for our OWLs, though the training will certainly help with that as well. We’ll be learning how to fight.” She channeled Fitzburg a bit. “We’ll be learning how to kill.”

“Kill?” Ron sounded taken aback, and he turned to look at Harry. Hermione didn’t know why he looked afraid suddenly.

“Yes. If the Death Eaters come at us, they’ll be trying to kill us, or worse. Us and our families. We’re in a war, and if we’re not willing to kill, then we’ll have lost the war from the start.” Harry nodded at their friend, his expression dead serious. He remembered Uncle Quentin’s talks as well, Hermione knew. “And we cannot afford to lose the war, or we and all those we love will be doomed.”

“If we stun someone, it’ll be to capture and interrogate them. Not to spare them. Whoever follows Voldemort has already proven he is a dark wizard willing to murder innocents.” Hermione’s words made Ron turn his head towards her again. She was speaking with a bit more conviction than she felt - there were compulsion charms and the Imperius curse, after all. But then, far more had claimed to have been under Voldemort’s imperius in the last war than was plausible, or even possible. No, her uncle was right - they were in a war, and couldn’t afford to play around with stunners.

“Are you in, Ron?” Harry asked, staring at the other wizard with an intensity he rarely showed. Hermione loved to see him like that, showing his potential, a glimpse of the wizard he would grow up to be, but hated the situation that made him show it.

Ron took a deep breath, not quite shaking, and licked his lips. He was staring past the two of them, mulling their words over while they waited. After a minute, he looked at Harry, then at Hermione. “Yes, yes, I am in it. He almost killed Ginny three years ago. Those bastards killed my two uncles in the last war. They’ll come at us again.” He was sounding more convinced with each word, and when he finished, his expression mirrored Harry’s.

With a more than slightly relieved smile, Harry patted his shoulder. “Good, mate. It’ll be hard, but we’ll show them.” Hermione simply wrapped her arms around both of them.

After a bit, Ron asked: “So… what was the second secret?”

*****​

Ron was glad he had a patrol that night. It gave him an excuse to leave the common room early. He was still trying to deal with what Harry and Hermione had revealed to him, earlier in the evening. Training to fight, no, to kill Death Eaters. Being a couple. He knew the former was more important, far more important, but he was thinking more about the latter. Deciding to join them training, and later fighting, killing, hadn’t been easy, but it felt right. He’d rather kill than lose anyone from his family. But watching Harry and Hermione, together… he wasn’t sure what he felt about that. Or what he should feel about it. He knew he was jealous, but was he jealous of the two of them having something special, or was he jealous of Harry for having a girlfriend, or was he jealous of Harry for having Hermione as a girlfriend?

He sighed. He didn’t know. He only knew he was jealous. But he did know that he had to know. Or something like that. It was getting complicated, and he didn’t like that. He knew some thought he was simple, but wanting things to be complicated was rather dumb, in his opinion. If he was going to fight Death Eaters, he couldn’t afford to worry about his jealousy, so he had to solve that. Simple. Or it should be. But it wasn’t.

“Sorry I am a bit late, Ron, but with that shocking surprise tonight, time flew!” His fellow 5th year Gryffindor prefect, Lavender Brown, had arrived. Blonde, bubbly, pretty - beautiful, he corrected himself - she was one of the most popular girls in their year. Among the boys, in any case. He didn’t know how the girls felt about her. Hermione didn’t gossip about such matters, other than to complain about Lavender and Parvati gossiping.

“It’s no problem, I haven’t been waiting long.” He smiled at her, pushing away from the wall he had been leaning against, next to the portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Ah, well, you already knew, of course! I guess it’s old news for you.” They started walking. “So, when did they tell you?”

Ron glanced at the young witch and realized he couldn’t escape that particular topic. “They told me today, after they got together yesterday.”

“Oh. Did you expect that? I mean, you three have been such close friends for years, always doing things together, and Harry hasn’t shown much interest in any other girl. Parvati told me he hardly paid any attention to her at the Yule Ball. Do you think that was when he fell in love with her? She was looking great then, it was a surprise for everyone I think.”

Ron didn’t want to talk, or think about the Yule Ball. Not one of his finest moments. Though he had to admit it was the first time he had realized that Hermione could be a pretty girl, and Harry had looked quite surprised himself at seeing her descend those stairs. But saying that… he wasn’t the smartest wizard, but even he knew that would cause trouble, for his friends, and for him. “I do not think he fell in love with her because she dressed up for the ball.”

“Why did he fall in love with her then?” Lavender turned her head to watch him even as the two of them kept walking. Weren’t they supposed to look around? Not that he felt like doing it either.

“I don’t know. I mean, she’s a great friend. Always there to help you, no matter what happens. Smart, brilliant but scary…” he had to smile at that particular memory “...and brave. Stubborn too though, and she can be quite bossy if she thinks she’s right. Which she often thinks, and is.” He was looking ahead, and missed Lavender’s reaction to his words. “She’s a muggleborn, and Harry’s muggle raised, so they share that.” Something else they had in common that he didn’t, he realized. His two friends came from another world, something most seem to miss when talking about the hero of Wizarding Britain. Not that many called him that right now.

“Do you think they’ll stay together?” Lavender’s tone was light, as if it was just idle curiosity, but glanced at her and she was almost hanging on his lips. Kind of like Hermione got, when she saw a book she wanted.

Would his friends stay together? He pondered that. In all the years - and didn’t that make him sound older than he was, he thought - Harry had not been angry at Hermione, but for that time with the Firebolt. He and the girl had clashed often, he realized, but Harry hadn’t. Ron knew that meant something. Something about him too. “Yes, yes I think they’ll do.” He caught himself smiling at the thought. “Thanks.”

His fellow prefect blinked in surprise. “For what?”

“You made me realize I haven’t fallen in love with her.” Simple, in hindsight.

“Oh!”

Ron didn’t understand why Lavender acted as if this was another important revelation.

*****​

“We’ll need to learn occlumency.” Hermione stated a few days later, in what was becoming “their room”.

“What’s that?” Ron looked up from the defense book he was reading. Their friend could be quite focused if he was motivated. And as sad as it was, knowing the worst dark lord Britain had seen in centuries was out there was quite the motivation.

“A technique to keep others from reading your thoughts. Like Snape.” That made him gasp, as Hermione had known it would. She didn’t know if Snape actually could read minds, but it made sense. How could you teach occlumency without being able to test it?

“That git can read our minds?” Ron sounded furious and horrified at the possibility.

“He was proposed to us as a possible occlumency teacher, so I’d say it’s very unlikely that he can’t read minds.” Hermione waited a bit while Ron cursed. “Dumbledore said he was looking for another possible teacher, but I am not too optimistic.”

“Why can’t Dumbledore teach us?”

“He could, but… I am not sure I trust him.” Harry stopped practising his piercing curse on a slab of transfigured stone. “He suggested Snape as a teacher, after all - and who in his right state of mind would think that letting that arse at our minds was a good idea?” Hermione wanted to call Harry out for his language, but suppressed the urge. Snape deserved that kind of insult, after all.

Ron nodded. “The headmaster must be barmy!”

“I’ve written to Sirius, he might have a book about occlumency in the Black Library.” And the former marauder would sneak it to them without telling anyone, Harry knew.

“Until we can learn it, do not look into the eyes of anyone that might be able to cast the spell if they have a wand in hand. Best avoid looking into their eyes, wand or not.” They would appear to be rude, Hermione knew, but it was better than risking their secrets to be spilled. “And that includes anyone from the staff.”

“You should be keeping an eye on someone’s wand anyway, in case they are a threat.” Harry added, citing a defense text he had read earlier. Her boyfriend was a good study when motivated as well, Hermione had found that out last year, when they were learning spells for the tournament. She had liked seeing that Harry very much, and liked his return even more, despite the circumstances causing that. “Until we get an answer, we’ll practise our shield spells, and other combat spells. Come on!”

Hermione got up from her desk, where she had been making notes from a tract on potion use in combat. That was a new side of her boyfriend - he was a demanding, but talented teacher. She even had had an “interesting” dream, with Harry as the teacher and her as the naughty student in detention, last night, and still wondered if she should tell him about it. She pushed the fantasy away and drew her wand. Training was no time for such thoughts.

*****​

India Cohen was staring at the small house 50 metres away with a hungry expression. There lived Alecto Carrow, the sister of Amycus Carrow. Dark Witch, Death Eater, murderer. She had escaped justice after the first fall of Voldemort, she would not escape the Slayer. Not if the wards on the house would finally fall. She could feel them, sense them. Tense, hostile, just waiting to unleash what dark magic was stored in them on an intruder. It made her want to charge forward, dare them to do their worst. Her fingers dug into the bark of the branch she was crouching on until small bits of wood were falling down.

Below her Kit was waiting, seemingly patient, while Fitzburg studied the wards. If only the wizard would hurry up! Kit suddenly looked up, and smiled at her, and India felt herself growing calmer, less frustrated. Kit did that to her. Made her happy. He could make her happier even, if he would just… she squashed that line of thought. It wasn’t the place, nor time to dwell on that. She was older now, no longer a child. He’d see that, sooner or later.

Fitzburg sighed. That wasn’t a good sign. “I can deal with the muggle-repelling ward easily enough, but that will likely alert whoever is inside the house.” He was speaking in a low voice, but India heard him as well as if he was standing next to her and speaking to a large audience. “Taking down the other wards though will take me an hour, at least. And I’d have to keep up anti-apparition wards as well. And I’d have to shut down floo travel, which I am not sure I can manage by myself to start with.”

India could see where this was headed, and growled. Her prey would not escape! She’d bring it down! Kit looked at her, and she looked away, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “That’s too long for a raid. If she has a way to call for help, we’d be at risk.”

“She won’t have a phone, but there are other ways. Communication mirrors. Even an Owl might be fast enough for help to arrive.” Fitzburg answered.

“So, we need more wizards to deal with the wards.” Kit summed it up.

“Or a trained curse-breaker or warder.”

“Which we do not have.”

India dropped down the five metres from her perch, landing in a crouch with barely a sound on the softer earth below. Straightening up she addressed the two men. “I can get in there. The wards cannot stop me.” She knew it. Nothing stopped the Slayer.

Kit though shook his head. “It’s too risky. You might get hurt by the wards anyway.”

“We could blow the house up. The wards won’t stop explosives, and anti-fire charms won’t stop the blast either.” Fitzburg’s proposal sounded good to India. Not as personal as she wanted, but maybe the witch would survive and flee outside…

Kit wasn’t convinced though. India knew it before he spoke, just from the way his lips formed a thinner line for a second. “We’d need a lot of explosives, and we would alert the rest of the Death Eaters to that possibility. It’s better to save that option for a more important target.”

India grit her teeth in frustration. To be so close to her target, but not able to get to it… Kit placed his hand on her shoulder, and she relaxed a bit, taking a deep breath. “You will get her, I promise. We’ll find a way.”

India smiled at Kit. She knew he was right. The Council always found a way, sooner or later.

*****​

Quentin Travers put Fitzburg’s report down, frowning. He had expected such complications, if not as soon in the campaign. Attacking the Death Eater hideouts would require a larger force than anticipated. Maybe a larger force than the Council could bring to bear without stripping other crucial locations of their defenders.

Wizards. It came down to needing more wizards to deal with those wards. More wizards than they could spare right now. Of course, once Voldemort’s return was common knowledge, recruiting would be easier. A lot of muggleborn wizards and witches would be looking for a way to protect their families and to fight back. The Council would offer both. Like in the last war. But Voldemort would have grown stronger too, until then.

He glanced at Rupert’s report. There were rituals to neutralize wards. They wouldn’t need wizards for that. Watchers with the talent could do those. But they took hours. Too long for a raid. Possible for a siege, but that would likely cause their enemies to gather to break the siege, and that was a battle he wasn’t sure they would win. Not without more information about their enemy.

Fitzburg’s idea of using explosives had merit, but the wizards would adapt quickly. One, two mansions gone, maybe three, if they were lucky and hit isolated ones, but they’d wise up, and fortify their hideouts. And Her Majesty’s Finest didn’t look kindly on that amount of explosives being used on British soil. One could kidnap a Death Eater and strap a bomb on him, but the timing would be an issue. To hit Voldemort the kidnapping would have to remain undetected until the next time the Death Eaters gathered, and as they had found out from Carrow, that depended on the whim of that self-styled Dark Lord. And if they captured a Death Eater, destroying his or her mansion was no longer much of a priority anyway, outside the few cases where entire families were involved, and there again, timing was an issue.

He leaned back and looked at the ceiling of his office. Even Death Eaters hiding in their manors, behind their wards, had a weakness: their children. They would be able to enter, might even know how to bypass the wards, in some cases. His grandniece could kidnap some of them, and interrogate them. Find out how to disable the wards, or how to get through the floos, even.

Strapping bombs on them at the end of the term might be a viable way to kill a number of the Death Eaters as well, though he doubted Hermione would go along with that plan. She had not the experience he had, hadn’t understood yet what one needed to do to keep humanity safe. Although, some of those children might already have become murderers, and therefore should be acceptable targets.

He would have to send the girl a letter with instructions, coded, to be safe, and mailed through his niece. Just in case.

*****​

India Cohen was stalking Knockturn Alley again, but without a specific target this time. Kit had sent her out to hunt “targets of opportunity”. Vampires, hags, dark wizards. Enemies of humanity. Kit understood her, knew that she needed something to hunt, to kill, to let her vent the frustration caused by her failure to kill Alecto Carrow. To even attempt killing her.

She had played with the thought of using herself as bait. A poor girl, lost in the alley, but had decided against it. Tonight she wanted to hunt as the Slayer she was. Stalking her prey, not using a ruse to lure them to her. She slid through she shadows, towards a corner, then jumped straight up, grasping the edge of the sloping roof with both hands. She pushed off the wall with her feet and swung up as if she was holding a high bar, landing smoothly on the roof, her rubber-soled boots finding easy purchase where the leather soles most wizards used in their footwear would slip.

Jumping from roof to roof she searched for prey. In a side alley she spotted a hag, carrying a basket with pieces of meat. She dropped down on the monster from above, slamming it into the cobblestones with enough force to break bones and drive the air out of its lungs so its surprised noise would not carry far. Her left foot came down on the arm not entangled with the basket and pinned it to the ground. She gripped the greasy hair with her gloved hands and pulled its head back, then cut its throat with a silver dagger, silencing it before it could scream for help.

She was back on the roof, the dagger wiped clean on the monster’s cloak, while it still was trashing around, choking on its own the blood. India felt better already.

*****​

Voldemort was pondering a puzzle. According to his spy, the Order had sent Dumbledore’s pet werewolf to Greyback’s pack, to make contact with the new leader who had killed Greyback. But his own contacts among those beasts told him that there was no new leader yet. No one had stepped up and claimed the kill, and Greyback’s lieutenants were still fighting for the position. No one knew who, or what, had killed the werewolf. Maybe one of his victims had taken revenge? It had been a woman, and Greyback had had a reputation…

In any case, Lupin could not be allowed to meddle with the pack. Voldemort needed disposable servants for the moment, he couldn’t risk his followers, and even Roselyn could only do so much, and if she was recognized, she would bring down more attention than he liked anyway. He might have to send her to contact the other, weaker vampires. They would be afraid to attack wizards, but he was sure Roselyn would be able to cow them into following orders.

And there was the matter of the prophecy to consider. The one thing that would finally reveal to him just what kind of power Potter had, to resist him so often. The prophecy stored in the Department of Mysteries, behind defenses he didn’t know - yet. Rookwood, who had been his agent in that department, was still imprisoned in Azkaban. Lucius had used an imperius curse to send Sturgis Podmore, another Order member Snape had revealed to him, after the prophecy, but the man had been found unconscious and bleeding right at the door. Clearly, this required more planning.

He returned to the matter of Lupin. Someone had to deal with that werewolf. Snape would be the obvious choice. His spy hated werewolves and especially Lupin with a passion. But it would be risking his spy’s cover, and Lupin was not worth that. Roselyn would be able to kill him easily, but he knew he could not use her too much for such tasks. Not only was she making his followers more nervous than was helpful, but if he depended too much on the witch turned vampire, some might question his own power.

But then, it might not be needed to kill the werewolf. It shouldn’t take much to have Fudge arrest Lupin. A few remarks from Lucius about how that werewolf was both Dumbledore’s servant and a friend of Sirius Black, maybe arrange some testimony about him attacking students at Hogwarts a year ago… Umbridge would jump at the chance to prosecute another of the beasts, if she wasn’t currently at Hogwarts, but her successor was no lover of the dark creatures either. With a bit of luck this could see Lupin executed, or force Dumbledore to spend more of his steadily waning influence to protect him. With a bit more luck, both could happen.


Chapter 5: Troubles with Training

 

Chapter 5: Troubles with Training

Hermione Granger entered the Headmaster’s office in Hogwarts at Harry Potter’s side with some apprehension. She didn’t trust the wizard that much, not when she had good reasons to suspect that he had read her thoughts and memories. She had told Harry and herself that they would just have to avoid looking the Headmaster or any other wizard into the eyes, but that was not as reassuring as it should have been. This was Dumbledore, after all. The greatest wizard of Britain. She stiffened when she felt a hand on her back on the stairs, then relaxed some when she realized it was Harry’s, smiling at him. But when they entered the office proper, she was wearing a bland expression, her back straight and her mind filled with arguments and counterarguments. She was ready for a confrontation.

Remus Lupin being present, with his usual worn robes and slightly sad smile, threw her a bit. She caught Harry’s eyes lighting up - her boyfriend loved the former teacher like an uncle. Not as much as Sirius, but the werewolf was one of the few people Harry considered family. She wondered what Dumbledore was planning, bringing Lupin here, but not Sirius.

“Good evening, Miss Granger, Harry.” The Headmaster nodded at both, smiling, behind his desk. “Please take a seat.”

“Hello Harry, Hermione.” Lupin looked a bit more tired than usual. The full moon had been just a few days ago, after all, and the transformation was both painful and exhausting, as Hermione knew from her studies. She also knew a few more ways to kill a werewolf thanks to the Watcher’s guide to lycanthropes, but currently she was not carrying any silver or wolfsbane. Not that she would have a reason to use either on Lupin. Not unless he forgot to take his potion again during the full moon.

“Hello Remus, Headmaster.” Harry smiled broadly while Hermione stuck to smiling and nodding to the two older wizards.

“I am sure you’re wondering why I called you into my office.” Dumbledore started.

“Yes, Headmaster.” Hermione studiously avoided meeting his eyes. Judging by his slight sigh, he might have noticed.

“I called Remus here since he is a skilled teacher, and he knows occlumency.” So that was the Headmaster’s proposal. A trusted teacher- for a certain definition of ‘trusted’. Hermione knew Harry loved the wizard, but while he was the best teacher they had had in Defense against the Dark Arts, she had some reservations about his loyalties. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to know her secrets - or the Council’s. But she had an inkling that Harry would not share her concerns. “I hope Remus meets with your approval and has your trust.”

Hermione exchanged a glance with Harry. He was smiling, hopeful. She managed not to wince. Hoping he’d understand, and not hate her for it, she started to ask some questions so she had a bit more time to prepare her argument. “When and where would those lessons take place, Sir?”

“There are a few unused classrooms that would offer, with the right spells, the needed privacy. With the Ministry’s attention on Harry I feel a location outside Hogwarts would not be advisable. And I think once a week, at the least. It is important for you to shield your minds.”

“Ron should have the lessons as well.” Hermione couldn’t get a read on the old wizard. Was he honestly helpful, and concerned, or did he want to get Remus to pry their minds for whatever knowledge he had missed as fast as possible?

“Of course. Young Mister Weasley is your best friend and therefore should be able to protect the secrets shared as well.” Dumbledore sounded pleased. He likely assumed that Remus’ ‘appointment’ was a done deal. And he was likely correct. Though hermione could not help but wonder if he already knew what they had told Ron.

“Scheduling will have to take his prefect duties into account though.” That was one reason why she hadn’t wanted to become a prefect.

“I am sure we can accommodate that. I am the Headmaster after all.” She could feel Dumbledore’s smile.

Before Hermione could think of another way to stall for time, they were interrupted by a call from the floo. “Headmaster! Headmaster!” That was Tonks’ voice coming from the fireplace. And she sounded alarmed. And alarming.

“Yes, Nymphadora?” Dumbledore didn’t lose his calm, and sounded as if he was asking about the weather.

“Are you alone, Sir?”

“I am in my office with Remus, Harry and Miss Granger.”

“Merlin’s beard! The DMLE just put out a warrant for Remus’ arrest! He’s wanted for attacking students as a werewolf, and suspected to have helped Sirius escape from Hogwarts. An auror group is on the way to Hogwarts!”

Hermione was later feeling guilty that her first reaction to this crisis had been relief that she wouldn’t have to come between Harry and Lupin.

*****​

Remus had barely managed to leave by the floo when Dumbledore was alerted by portraits that aurors had entered Hogwarts. “Do you have your cloak with you, Harry?”

Harry nodded. As if he would not keep the cloak on him with the threat of Voldemort and his Death Eaters so close! Well, he might not, if he had not a mokeskin pouch to keep it from getting confiscated by a certain git or witch.

“Good. Please use it so you and Miss Granger can leave my office undetected. It would be better if you were not seen with me by the aurors.”

Harry was quickly realizing that and how Hermione had grown up since the last time they had shared the cloak. If she wasn’t his girlfriend their escape from the Headmaster’s office would have been quite awkward. Even so feeling her on his back was … distracting. Not as bad as it would have been if she was in front of him though. That would have been very embarrassing.

He wasn’t sure what was more nerve-wracking: Standing still next to a suit of armor while half a dozen red-robed aurors and Umbridge swept past, on their way to Dumbledore, or feeling Hermione’s breath on his neck, and her chest pressed into his back. Fortunately they didn’t have to wait too long like that, and once the aurors and their most hated teacher had disappeared into the Headmaster’s office they could move more freely. Harry was still sighing with relief when they finally ducked into ‘their’ unused classroom.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Hermione was looking at him with concern.

“Yes, yes. Just a bit stressed.” He raised his hand as if to hold back any more questions, and she nodded in understanding.

“I guess Remus cannot teach us now.” He was frustrated. He would have loved to spend more time with his honorary uncle. And now both Remus and Sirius were wanted wizards, forced into hiding. He grit his teeth. It was all Fudge’s and Malfoy’s fault! If they were here he’d have gladly hexed them. Damn them. He wanted to hex, kick hit something, anything.

The young wizard didn’t realize just how obvious his anger had been until Hermione hugged him, and whispered reassuring words into his ear. He closed his eyes, grateful for her presence, her closeness, and felt his anger leave, his tension lessen. Replaced by another emotion.

“Thank you Hermione.”

“Anytime, Harry.” He knew she meant it literally. Had known it for a long time now. She would be there for him. Anytime he needed her. He could only hope he would be able to do the same for her. He gently pushed her a bit back, breaking her hug. For a brief moment she looked insecure, even vulnerable, as if she was fearing he’d reject her. Before she could say anything though he gently leaned forward and kissed her, and this time he felt her relax in his arms.

By the time they returned to the Gryffindor Dorm, their cover of having snuck out to snog had been maintained quite a bit, in Hermione’s words.

*****​

Patrolling was different these days, Ron thought. With aurors stationed at Hogwarts, officially to protect the school against the dangerous werewolf Lupin, he felt both redundant and nervous, walking through the corridors. What use was looking for students who might be violating curfew in this situation? Who would be so stupid to leave their dorms when aurors might mistake them for Lupin in the dark? Apart from his brothers, of course.

He didn’t trust those aurors either. Too friendly with Umbridge, and the Slytherins. Probably Slytherins themselves, the lot of them, and just waiting for an excuse to hex a Gryffindor, or a muggleborn. Lavender must be nervous as well, he thought. She was walking much closer to him than usual.

He had the sudden urge to wrap an arm around her shoulders, reassure her they were safe, but resisted it. Witches did not like such sudden familiarity. Not usually at least. Lavender was no Hermione, but he was sure she knew a few painful hexes anyway.

“Do you think the werewolf will come to Hogwarts?” Lavender sounded timid.

“I do not think so. And even if he did, he’d not harm us.”

“But they say he was attacking students two years ago and Dumbledore hushed it up!”

Ron couldn’t help but scoff. “I was one of the students attacked. That only happened because he forgot his potion, and that only happened because … of the dementors.” He had almost blamed Pettigrew, not a safe thing to do in the current atmosphere, with not just Umbridge, but aurors watching for such “dissenting remarks”. Mind you, he still had some grudge about the whole incident, but while Lupin had forgotten to take his potion, Sirius had actually bitten and kidnapped him. He still didn’t think Lupin had a good excuse for his ‘lapse’, but it wasn’t as if Ron himself had never done something really stupid, dangerous, or both. His attitude towards Harry at the start of the tournament last year came to mind, one of his worst moments.

His words didn’t seem to reassure Lavender. His expression probably hadn’t helped. He smiled at the pretty witch. “Look, either way, he’s smart. You know that from when he taught us. He won’t come to Hogwarts, and it’s not a full moon anyway. And we have aurors to protect us. Or at least absorb the first spell so we can run away.” She giggled at that. A good sign. He didn’t like to see a fellow Gryffindor afraid. She still was sticking close to him, even though she was not sounding, nor acting timid anymore.

They rounded a corner, and froze, staring at the wand of an auror. “What are you doing outside your dorms!” He sounded both nervous and excited. Ron recognized him - Dawlish. Not the smartest one, even by his standards.

“We’re prefects, on patrol.” He withstood the urge to point at their badges. People like Dawlish didn’t like it when one pointed out their obvious mistakes. Judging from the way the man scowled, he had realized it himself.

“Go on then, and don’t sneak up on me next time!”

They walked more quickly, and Ron didn’t relax until they had turned around a corner and Dawlish couldn’t hex him in the back. Even though he was rather sure the auror wouldn’t do that. Probably. A Slytherin would, and he looked like one.

“And that’s supposed to protect us?” Lavender sounded angry. Staring down a wand wielded by an auror with no brains was not a pleasant experience.

“According to Defense teacher, yes.” Ron didn’t scoff then, but his tone was full of scorn. Due to those aurors he and his friends couldn’t train anymore.

“I am sure you could do a better job if they let you.” He smiled at that.

“I would certainly never hex you.”

Ron realized Hermione was wrong. Lavender’s giggling was not grating on the nerves at all. He rather liked it, instead.

*****​

India was on the prowl again. She wasn’t hunting wizards though, nor the monsters kept by them. No, she was hunting vampires. The Council had noticed a rise in missing people in and around Birmingham, and a few quite suspicious bodies with torn throats - it looked like the vampire population in the area had jumped recently, and whether it was a Master Vampire raising more minions than usual, or some sort of migration, the Slayer was sent to deal with it.

And deal with it she would. Even if she had to suppress the urge to pounce on the undead demon walking on the street in front of her, knock it down and shove her stake into its heart. Not yet. She had to see where the monster was going. Find out if it was working with other vampires. Then she would destroy it. Unless it tried to feed. Then she’d intervene right away. She smiled without noticing at that thought. Her blood seemed to sing with the thrill of hunting.

Kit was in a car, driving around in the area. Close enough to help, if needed, not close enough to tip the vampire off. Or be in too much danger. India liked Kit close, but safe. If something happened to him, she would not know what she’d do. But it would be violent and brutal. Very brutal.

The vampire on the ground below her was turning into a side alley, and she followed after a bit, not making any sound that the monster could pick up. She longed to take to the roofs, but she might lose the vampire in the time she’d need to climb up - or down, should it cross a street.

The vampire opened a metal door at the end of the alley, and she heard several voices arguing. Sneaking closer she caught the faint stench of decaying flesh before the door closed. Whoever was behind that door didn’t mind staying around rotting corpses. That usually meant it was a monster, and fair game. An undertaker or coroner wouldn’t have set up shop in such an area, she told herself, remembering a particular embarrassing mistake she had made shortly after being called.

Using her radio she called Kit while climbing up to the roof, the brick walls providing enough handholds for a Slayer to easy scale them. She was getting excited, soon she’d fight, kill, destroy the monsters hiding there. “Kit? I’ve found a location. Smells like a lair. Decay. Several voices inside.”

“Be ready, but do not engage yet. I’m coming.” Kit’s calm and controlled voice filled her with warmth and confidence, as usual. With him she felt she could do anything. For a moment, her urge to hunt had lessened, though her excitement had not. Then the Slayer took over again, and she edged closer to a dirty skylight, peering down.

She heard the voices more clearly, thanks to her enhanced senses. The foul stench as well - and fresh blood. Someone had been busy.

“... work for him, and the Dark Lord will provide you with protection from the Slayer, and all the muggle meals you want. Defy him, and you will wish for the Slayer to kill you quickly.” The Dark Lord? Muggles? That was a witch’s voice then. A Death Eater collaborating, no, recruiting vampires? India started to rub some of the dirt on the skylight away so she could catch a sight of what was going on inside. She was sure she could take half a dozen vampires, even more with surprise on her side - the foul creatures rarely worked together well, and some would always try to flee when faced with the Slayer - but she wasn’t sure if she could take half a dozen vampires and a dark witch. And yet she had the urge to break through the skylight, jump down and revel in the fight.

Shuddering, she controlled herself. Kit said she needed to remain in charge, to use her feral instincts, instead of being driven by them. And she would. Slowly, using spit and her sleeve, she managed to clear a corner of the skylight. Below her, five vampires, spread around the room, some sitting on crates, other standing, all in the shadows, were staring a woman, a witch… no, a female vampire, she realized. Pale skin, black hair, and leather clothes India wasn’t allowed to wear according to Kit.

“Think on this when you huddle in fear of the Slayer, or the Watcher’s Council, when you sneak around to snatch a meal, always looking over your shoulder, lest you get staked.” It was meeting their gazes, and one by one, they looked away and she looked at the next one. Until the last, a male vampire.

“You talk big for a wizard’s lapdog, bitch. All promises, like a politician. And when we’ve done his dirty work, your master’ll turn on us. They always do.” The vampire, wearing a battered leather jacket and jeans that had seen better days a decade ago, snarled, its face distorting into its true demonic face. “I am no one’s bitch, and not as stupid as you think, bitch!”

The vampiress lifted an eyebrow, and smirked, which set the other off. It charged, roaring, fangs exposed, one shoulder pulling back for a strike.

“Incendio.” India held her breath. The charging vampire stopped, staring at the flame that had appeared in its chest in horror, then burst into flames. A few seconds of screaming later it was ashes. Its killer sneered, twirled the slim wand she had revealed, and looked at the other undead. “Let that be a lesson to you. I am no one’s bitch, as that idiot called it. The Dark Lord offers you great rewards for your service. But if you defy him…” she trailed off, then smirked. “He was lucky I felt mercyful, or he’d still be screaming, and only the rising sun would finally grant him death.”

India could see the other vampires react to that, hunching their shoulders a bit to appear less threatening, lowering their gazes. Predators cowed by a stronger one. Feral animals. The vampiress pointed at one. “You. What’s your name?”

“M-Martin.” The vampire stammered, all pretense gone.

“An owl will be bringing you your orders. Do not harm her, or you’ll pay. Fail to execute the orders, and you’ll pay. Try to flee… do you understand?”

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

With a wave of its wand and a cracking noise, the female vampire vanished. Apparition. India felt both regret and relief. She had wanted to fight that vampire, craved it, and yet known she would have had bad odds surviving. Vampires that old were dangerous, and that one could work magic.

The four vampires left relaxed. One even fell to its knees, shaking. Pathetic. India felt the urge to slay them again. They were weak. Weak monsters. She briefly thought about trailing the contact of the witch, but dismissed that. she couldn’t track a monster like that for days, and hope for some useful information. Standing by while it preyed on humans? Every fiber of her being rebelled at the thought.

She was moving before she realized it, her boot kicking the skylight open, breaking the frame and shattering the glass, and then she was jumping down. The vampires had reacted to the sudden noise and were looking up, and India enjoyed the way their eyes widened, right before her boots smashed into the face of “Martin”. The impact shattered its teeth and nose and drove the walking corpse into the floor, cracking its head. He’d take a while to recover from that.

India rolled with the impact, the undead having broken her fall already, and came up in the face of another vampire. She staked it before it could do more than raise both hands defensively. Two left. Whirling around she charged the closest one, ducking under a wild swing, and ramming her shoulder into its chest, pushing it back and on a crate it had been sitting on earlier before slipping her stake into its heart.

The last one standing was running in panic. Straight to the exit, not even trying to dodge or weave around the crates. Pathetic. Two thrown knives caught it in the knees, and it fell down, screaming. India stalked towards it, casually emptying a vial of holy water into the face of her first victim before it could get up again. It too started to scream, and India smiled widely.

The other one had managed to pull out one knife while scrambling back, trailing blood, and flung it at her. She didn’t even bother dodging, just caught the knife and sent it back into the vampire’s hand. The screaming turned into weeping now, and she snorted with satisfaction. It felt good, right, to make those monsters feel a smidgen of the pain they had caused to humans before she destroyed them.

Then she remembered Kit’s lesson on not to play with their enemies, and frowned. He’d be disappointed. Sighing, she quickly staked both remaining vampires, and collected her weapons. There were four corpses in the room as well. Two were at least a week old, one a few days at most, and one was fresh. A girl, barely older than India herself.

No, making the monsters suffer was right, no matter what Kit told her. As long as she was careful, she’d be fine.

*****​

Hermione was sitting with Harry in the Gryffindor common room, studying the letter from her parents she had received in the morning. Hedwig, perching on Harry’s shoulders, still glared at her for using another owl, but Hermione was sure mail carried by Harry’s snowy owl would receive quite more scrutiny than her own, despite her - by now widely known - relationship to the Boy-Who-Lived. And there were small signs of tampering, magical tampering. Not that she thought they’d be able to break the code Uncle Quentin was using. Even knowing how to decode it, it had taken her half an hour.

“That’s not good.” She muttered, covered by a privacy spell. “They have troubles getting through wards, and want us to see if we can find ways through the Death Eater wards from their kids.”

“I doubt they’ll simply tell us.” Harry stated.

“And using veritaserum on them will be difficult with the auror patrols.” Hermione sighed.

“We should be glad they have not decided to use dementors to guard us again.” Both shuddered at that reminder.

“They are probably cautious after that unsolved attack, and won’t risk using more of them.” Hermione reasoned, chewing on a quill so others would think she was doing homework.

“Small mercies when we still haven’t found a safe room to train in, with all those damned aurors in the castle, and Umbridge walking around as if she was just one more educational decree away from reinstalling a torture chamber.” Harry grumbled. He was actually doing homework, or trying to - Hermione had finished hers already of course.

“At least she’s hounding the teachers, not the students.”

“So far. We still need a room to train in that’s safe, and secret. Our old room won’t do. Ron already told us he saw an auror patrol that corridor.” Harry pushed back, frowning. Ron was currently patrolling with Lavender again. Ron had sounded a lot happier about doing patrols than Hermione had expected, and that was due to the blonde witch. She had had to make an effort not to roll her eyes when the fashion-obsessed piece of fluff had collected Ron for the patrol the last time.

Taking another biscuit from the tray the elves had provided for them, she suddenly had an idea. “The elves.”

“What?” Harry had just returned to his home work.

“We can ask the elves about a safe room to practise in. One the aurors don’t know. The elves know the castle in and out, and with the map and the cloak we should be able to travel safely.” Hermione was excited - this could be the break they needed. A safe base to operate out from.

“Ah… we need to make two trips then, the cloak won’t cover all three of us, not anymore. We’ve, ah, grown up some since.” Harry coughed, and Hermione blushed a bit, remembering their last trip under the cloak. It had been a close affair.

“Well, let’s go ask.”

*****​

The ‘Room of Requirement’ was an answer to their needs, as Dobby had promised. And a daunting challenge to understand as well. The room could be anything one needed - duelling room, class room, common room, potions lab, library even. If they had known about that years ago… Harry was sure Hermione was mourning for the time lost brewing in a bathroom, or trying to train for the tasks for the Triwizard Tournament in old class rooms. His girlfriend did vastly prefer perfect solutions to their problems over ones that were merely good enough.

And the room could even open doors to any other spot in the castle. Harry could go under the cloak to the 7th floor, and once he had entered, he could create a door to whatever secret passage Hermione and Ron were hiding in. That would make reaching the room both safer and quicker.

“Perfect.” Hermione widely smiled. Harry chuckled, which let her looking confused, and very cute, for a moment, before she pouted at him.

“So, we have a room we can train in now. Or interrogate one.” His diversion worked, Hermione quickly focused on the tasks at hand.

“Kidnapping someone will work well with the room’s ability to create doors, but one of us will have to stay in the room then. That means there’d only be one to do the actual kidnapping. And Draco travels with his bodyguards…”

“Yes. I can take them though.” Harry was rather sure he could. Not as sure as he would like to be though.

“All at once? Without anyone of them running or calling for help?” Hermione put the finger right on the problem, as expected.

“Point. We might need to bring Ron in. It’s not as if we’re that much more skilled in occlumency than him, with Remus stuck at Sirius’ house.” Harry still felt anger whenever he thought about that evil plot against his honorary uncle.

Hermione winced. “Do you think we can trust him? It’s one thing to work against Death Eaters, it’s another to work with the Slayer. Most books I found covering her portray her as the Witch Hunters’ main weapon.”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to sound him out when we’re training here.” Harry wasn’t sure how well that would work, but he had to try, The two of them couldn’t do this alone, and Ron was their best friend.

“It’ll set us back a bit, but it’ll allow us to prepare for the kidnapping better as well.” Hermione nodded, apparently satisfied. “I wonder how much we can adapt the room while we are using it.”

Harry pondered that, then had a thought. He focused, and a copy of the prefect’s bath appeared in the corner. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned. “We can enjoy the same luxury as the prefects now, without having to do the patrols and other duties.”

Hermione smiled, then frowned. “Ron can never know of that, or he’ll never forgive us.”

“Oh, I think he likes the patrols well enough.”

“He likes Lavender well enough you mean.” Hermione snorted. Harry smiled, and pulled her in a hug.

“Well, not everyone can have the best girlfriend in the castle.” He placed a quick kiss on her lips, which turned into a longer kiss.

By the time they were ready to head back to their common room, the room had created a couch for them.

*****​

Albus Dumbledore smiled at the auror standing watch on his way to the Great Hall. “Hello John.” He let just the slightest patronizing tone slip in, and none of the frustration he felt. Spies for the Minister in his school, under the excuse of guarding the castle against a man he knew would never harm a student. All due to a plot from Voldemort. And he couldn’t do much about it, not right now, with Malfoy having the ear of the Minister and his influence growing. At least Umbridge focusing on him and ignoring Harry and the other students made sense given the circumstances, and would not raise suspicion.

But his plans had been derailed. Remus, forced into hiding. He wouldn’t be able to teach Harry and Miss Granger and young Mister Weasley until the holidays. Nymphadora wouldn’t be able to teach them either, the risk of getting discovered as one of his supporters was too great, especially with the loss of Kingsley. He sighed, remembering his friend.

It was a vicious circle. Without having Harry’s trust he couldn’t safely contact the Council, and without the help of the Council, he coldn’t counter Cornelius’ irrational and gold-fueled fear of a coup with the fear of the Slayer. And the werewolves were no doubt now working for Voldemort, with Remus having been recalled before he could sway them into neutrality.

At least Minerva was able to neutralize the worst excesses of Umbridge. Really, inspecting the staff? He shook his head. He reached the door to the Great hall, and nodded friendly at the auror waiting there, as if nothing was wrong with a guard at the staff entrance.

He glanced over the tables on his way to his seat. Students were as rowdy as ever, waiting for the food to appear, but he thought he saw a few students sending nervous glances at the red robes in the hall. Harry and Miss Granger were not among those, of course, even if they had far more to hide than some fire whiskey or dungbombs smuggled into the castle. Memories of his own youth and a particularly nasty hangover briefly briefly made him smile.

He once again wondered if he should not simply contact the young couple anyway, he was reasonably sure he could sway their opinion with the facts of necessity. But with aurors and Umbridge running unchecked through his school, it was simply too risky. If he was implicated to be in cahoots with the Slayer, his reputation and influence would be unlikely to recover short of Voldemort murdering the Minister in broad daylight.

*****​

“Voldemort recruiting vampires with the help of a vampire witch. Perfect.” Quentin Travers sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife. The Slayer sitting in front of him squirmed. Good. She should feel guilty at acting so rashly, instead of informing her watcher first. Not that there was that much she could have done differently, Quentin agreed with her assessment of the situation, but it was the principle of the thing. Watchers lead, the Slayer obeyed. That was how things were done.

“We did expect such things.” Botwell was, as usual, reserved and calm. He probably would die like that, Quentin thought, unless his Slayer had died first. Then he’d likely die like a berserker, swinging and screaming in rage. He had seen that before - a watcher growing too close to a Slayer. It never ended well, but there was nothing one could do. Separating a Watcher from his or her Slayer was not something done lightly. As long as Botwell followed orders and could control his Slayer it didn’t matter how close he was to her. And, Quentin thought cynically, the problem usually solved itself with the death of the Slayer. They didn’t last long, after all. India was already one of the longer-lived in this century, outside such exceptions as Nikki Wood. And that Slayer too had fallen in the end, to William the Bloody, even.

“We expected that monster to recruit vampires, but a vampire witch? That’s something else. It was a good decision not to attack that one, Miss Cohen. Without wizards at your side she would have likely overcome even you.”

The Slayer growled at that. It was a feral, almost inhuman sound. A sign that the Slayer was not quite human. A monster even, but one on the side of humanity. Quentin didn’t mind that. It meant he would not have to feel any guilt when sacrificing a Slayer. Should not have to, he corrected himself. It still felt wrong to send a girl to her death, but he had come to terms with what he needed to do long ago. Watchers who did not tended to die early, often taking foolhardy risks in an attempt to deal with their guilty conscience.

“We’ll have to prepare for such an enemy. Miss Cohen, you’ll be training with Fitzburg daily, but treat him as if he was a Vampire that is immune to fire.

The Slayer nodded. Quentin continued. “Meanwhile, we’ll do our best to find out what exactly we are dealing with. I am sure there should be records of such a creature.”

“Did you hear anything from your grandniece yet?” Quentin noted a brief scowl on the Slayer’s face at that question. He hadn’t heard of any trouble between those two, and wondered if this was a cause for concern. Botwell hadn’t mentioned anything though.

“She informed me that there were several aurors currently at the school, which hinders her attempts to prepare and gather information. They seem to focus more on the headmaster than the werewolf they are supposedly hunting.” Quentin noticed that the Slayer had perked up at that line. “From what we know, the werewolf is not a danger, and simply the victim of a political intrigue.” Judging by her pout she had gotten the message.

“Any questions?”

“No Sir.” Botwell answered while his Slayer shook her head.

“Good.” The two left his office, and Quentin rubbed his chin. The Council was lucky that Voldemort seemed to be biding his time so far. But that would not last that long. The council would have to be ready to strike before their enemy was acting. It wouldn’t be easy, but they would succeed. Failure was not an option.


Chapter 6: Patrols

 

Chapter 6: Patrols

Harry saw the auror - Dawlish, he thought - lean against the wall ahead, watching half a dozen stairs moving below him. The wizard looked bored, and not very observant, and it wasn’t an act. Still, Harry had to be careful, even with his father’s cloak. He thought about using a distraction - maybe drop a stone on a stair below him - but that could backfire. If the aurors thought a student was hiding from them in the castle, even before the curfew, they might check the dorms for missing students. Umbridge certainly would be eager to have a reason to inspect the dorms. That was why Harry, Ron and Hermione had hid their valuables and contraband with the help of Dobby. Although if they could frame some Slytherins for it…

No, he had to be patient, and careful. Slowly, very slowly, he stepped past the man. His rubber soles made no sound on the floor, even without silencing spells. He even held his breath, until he was around the corner. Done. A minute later he was in the corridor with the painting of the dancing trolls, and another minute later, a new door opened in the secret passage near Gryffindor’s dorm, where Hermione and Ron were hiding, using the Marauder’s map to avoid detection.

Hermione hugged him, only for a short time though, after entering, while Ron strolled in, either hiding his own relief well, or really enjoying the sneaking around. It was hard to tell. “That went well. Stupid spies never even got close.” He put the map down on the table in the corner of the room and grabbed a bottle of butterbeer Dobby had provided.

“It was a bit closer for me, Dawlish is up on the 7th floor, fortunately not near the corridor here.”

“Probably avoiding more work. Me and Lavender never see him patrolling.” With a glance to hermione, who had pulled out her notes and spread them out on the table, next to the snacks, he added, grinning: “And what’s on the lesson plan for today?”

Huffing and brushing a stray lock behind her ear, the witch answered: “It’s a training plan. That we’ll be able to ace the DADA exam is just a side benefit. The main goal is to get competent enough to fight Death Eaters. Merlin knows we’ll not get any training from that despicable woman this year.” She sighed. “This year’s OWLs and NEWTs Defense scores will likely be the worst ever in decades. And right when people need to be able to defend themselves more than ever.”

“We cannot do anything about that.” Harry stepped forward. “We have our own mission. And if things go well, they’ll be safer in the end.”

“You think the Order will be able to deal with You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters quickly then?” Ron sounded surprised.

“We know they are working on something important. So important they wouldn’t tell us.” Hermione answered him. “We can only hope whatever they are planning and preparing will work.” Harry knew the witch didn’t think so - she had been less than impressed with the Order’s organization, attitude and roster. Harry shared her opinion. After training with the Watchers, and experiencing their dedication and resolve, the Order as a whole simply didn’t measure up. They simply were too… soft. Mrs Weasley was trying to keep her children, no matter their ages, and Harry and hermione too, of course, as far from the Order as possible. Hermione’s uncle on the other hand would have done all he could to recruit more wands for the fight, no matter how old their wielders. They’d need that sort of resolve to win this.

“We’ll be focusing on offensive and defensive spells and tactics. Apart from the standard ones - Stunner, Piercing Curse, Cutting Curse, Explosive Curse, Bombarda - I’ve found a few that are not in the curriculum, but should serve us well.” Hermione explained. She was talking about the watcher’s area fire spells, which were very close to magical flamethrowers and firebombs, as well as several spells that served to disorient and blind and deafen monsters with enhanced senses.

“Did you find them in Sirius’ library?” Ron sounded very interested.

Hermione shook her head. “No, I acquired a few tomes with non-standard spells. The Ministry probably doesn’t want anyone to learn those.” She sounded almost as offended at that notion - even though she had gotten those spells from the Watchers - as at the idea of vampires preying on humans without wizards intervening. Almost. Harry didn’t like lying to Ron, even by omission - what Hermione had said was the truth, if misleading - but it couldn’t be helped.

“Let’s get started then.” Harry drew his wand and turned towards the dummies lined up on the back wall. “Stunners first.” They’d need those spells, for the kidnapping, though he wouldn’t say that yet, not until they had sounded Ron out a bit more.

The three spent two hours casting stunners while standing, running, jumping and crawling on the floor. Mostly standing and crawling at the end - it had been an exhausting training session. Ron, to his credit, had been grumbling and complaining for a lot of it, but had kept training.

“Curfew is in a few minutes.” Hermione stated, using her wand to cast a few cleaning charms on herself and her friends. Harry still felt like he needed a shower, even though he knew he was clean. “Do we head back directly to the dorm, or to a corridor next to it?”

“Directly back I think. They might be watching the dorm entrance, to see who was out, and wonder what we have been doing.” Harry passed two big glasses of water to Hermione and Ron and filled one for himself with a pitcher.

“We could enter the library next time, and head back from there.” Hermione smiled gratefully at him, and emptied her glass. A few drops ran down her chin, and Harry couldn’t help but staring at them. His girlfriend usually wasn’t a messy drinker or eater.

Ron nodded. “Everyone would believe you’d made us study.” Hermione just grinned at that - she was far more exhausted than he had thought. Harry realized that this might not be the best moment to sound Ron out.

“Say, Ron, did you ever hear of the Slayer?” Hermione asked before Harry could propose to head back right now.

“The Slayer? I’ve heard the stories of course. The twins used to frighten me with tales of the Witch Hunter’s Monster coming after a wizard family, killing them one by one, no matter what they did, no matter where they fled to, down to to the babies...” He trailed off with a guilty glance at Harry, who was frowning - if not for the reason Ron thought. If that was what wizards thought of the Slayer, then they’d have real trouble trying to get help. Even from Ron.

“Well, I doubt those stories are true. But I found out she exists.” Of course the girl who was willing to oppose the entire Magical World over house elves would not let such a thing deter her from her course. Harry was both proud of and slightly worried for her.

“What?” Ron’s eyes shot open. If the matter were not so serious, Harry would have laughed at the sight.

“Yes. She’s a historical figure. But according to my sources, she was mainly hunting Dark Wizards and monsters, to protect muggles. She wasn’t going just after every wizard.” Hermione stated primly. Harry knew she wasn’t so sure about that - they hadn’t seen the original records of the time when the Statute of Secrecy was formed and the Slayer quit the Magical World.

“Blimey! Would be nice to have her around to go after You-Know-Who then.” Ron snorted. “Bet he’d be surprised by a monster who cannot be killed!”

“She’d have to find him first.” Harry threw in. This might just work out, he thought.

“She can find anyone she wants. She tracked down every member of a family she was after, remember?” Harry wished Ron’s claim was true. Life would be so much easier.

“I think that’s hyperbole.” Hermione huffed. “And Voldemort is likely good at hiding, even from the Slayer. So, she’d need help finding him.”

“Too bad. Only the Death Eaters know, and they are not telling.” Ron sounded disappointed, but Harry wasn’t sure he was taking the topic that seriously. Or he was just as exhausted as Harry felt. It was a good opening, but Harry wasn’t sure they should mention their plans for Malfoy right away. He hoped Hermione shared his opinion.

“I’d work with her, if it was against Voldemort.” Harry emptied his own glass.

“I’d work with everyone against Voldemort. Well, not with Malfoy. Or Slytherins.” Ron answered, munching on the last sandwich Dobby had had prepared.

“We should head back now.” Hermione did not push further, to Harry’s relief.

*****​

India Cohen was a happy Slayer. She was hunting each night, and killing. The Council had decided that if vampires were being recruited by Voldemort, then denying him those resources was a priority. With so many Watchers, even Wizard Watchers, focusing on finding vampires, she was busy every night. Almost as if it was a hellmouth.

And not only that, but because many vampires preyed on clubbers, she got to dress up, to better fit in the crowd. And, in many clubs, to get inside without breaking in or breaking the bouncer. She was currently wearing a short, short cocktail dress and matching heels. Like in that magazine she had bought, nominally to keep her cover, a few weeks ago. Kit had tried not to stare, then had tried to hide his staring, but she was the Slayer, nothing escaped her. Not even her watcher.

She was currently in a nightclub in London. Quite glamorous, even if the music was a bit too loud for her taste. She allowed herself to bask in the attention of the other guests while she walked from the bar to the dance floor. Now if Kit was with her this would be perfect - no men and boys hitting on her, and maybe less angry glares from the girls.

Before she could dance, and show off what a Slayer’s moves were like, she felt a vampire’s presence. Turning around it didn’t take her long to spot the monster: A pale man wearing a cheap suit, hitting on a girl, in the corner. India sauntered over, a smile plastered on her face even though she wanted to charge at the creature and stake it right away. But she couldn’t be the hunter right now, she had to be the bait.

Smiling innocently, she greeted the vampire, ignoring the girl. “Hi!” She had drunk some liquor, so her breath would smell accordingly, even if the alcohol didn’t affect her as it would a normal human. But as Kit had explained, it would make the vampire think she was easy. That, and her good looks - she was purely objective here, not vain - had to be enough to make the monster change his objective. She giggled, remembering how flustered he had seemed when she had asked if he was experienced with easy girls. The monster thought it was because of its joke. The girl left in a huff, not knowing her life had just been saved.

India didn’t feel like letting the monster paw her for a bit to keep her cover, so she drew a pack of cigarettes from her purse. “Wanna step outside for a smoke? I need a bit of fresh air, the world’s a bit spinning.”

It jumped at what it thought was a chance to feed away from prying eyes. India had to clench her teeth some when it slung an arm around her on the way out. She wanted to rip it off right then and there and beat the creature to death with it.

They passed the bouncer, who slightly shook his head, only seeing a drunk girl and an older guy. India wondered if once she and Kit were a couple, they’d draw the same looks. Her Watcher was not that much older than her, after all. Not that she’d care - odds are, they die together anyway. They turned into a side alley. As soon as the Slayer saw there were no witnesses she slammed the creature against the wall so hard its head bounced back and left a dent in the bricks. Two swift kicks broke its kneecaps, a few more broke bones and ribs and cartilage.

When she stopped she was holding a broken mass of undead meat. “Have you heard of a Dark Lord?” She had to hit it a few more times, twisting a few broken bones sticking out of its skin, until it was answering.

“N-no…” It had some difficulty speaking with smashed teeth and split lips, and a broken nose. India didn’t care.

“Have you seen a witch lately? Or a female vampire that can apparate?”

“Huh?”

India asked a few more times, hit it some more, until she was satisfied that it really didn’t know anything. A stake shut up its whimpering and left a pile of ashes. She made sure her dress hadn’t gotten blood on it and walked away to meet with Kit.

There he was, and in a nicer car, to fit better in with the clubbing crowd. India slid into the seat next to him, and had to hide her smile at the way his eyes ran up her legs slower than he had to be to check for injuries.

“Good work. The next likely hunting spot we have found is a bit away.” He kept his eyes on the road, but his voice was not quite as calm and collected as it usually was.

Praise, and the right kind of attention from her Watcher. India was a happy Slayer.

*****​

Hermione huffed in frustration and closed the book she was reading in the Gryffindor common room. The books she had gotten from Sirius on Occlumency were not as helpful as she had hoped. They explained the theory well, and even had descriptions of the mental exercises needed to build up one’s mind’s resistance to intrusion, but they really needed a tutor, or teacher. But the only teachers she’d trust were Watchers. And they’d not be able to get help from them until the holidays, which were still almost two months away. At least Lupin had added notes that explained the process better.

In the last few weeks they - Harry, Ron and herself - had made quite the progress in defense. Hermione was quite proud of how far they had come and she was sure they would be able to easily handle any student at the castle, even if they still had a long way to go. But without a means to protect their minds, that was less useful than it should be.

So far they hadn’t had troubles, avoiding the eyes of suspect wizards and witches had been enough, even though Snape had seemed to harbor some suspicions, but should anything happen to those “proper wizards” from House Slytherin, who were sucking up to Umbridge, they’d need a better defense.

Umbridge… the toad-like witch was still making trouble. Not for herself or Harry, fortunately, and Ron dodged her well enough. But she was spewing her bigotry about werewolves and other non-human species in class instead of teaching them what they needed to pass their defense O.W.L. exam. Or what they needed to defend themselves from an attack. All she did was trying to make them into meek, weak sheep who depended on the Ministry for protection.

As if aurors could protect them - or anyone. Certainly not those idiots still roaming the castle! What the three of them, especially Harry, had observed while sneaking around had shattered whatever illusions they had had about aurors being the elite of Wizarding Britain. Hermione wasn’t sure how those idiots had passed the kind of auror entrance exam Tonks had told them about. She hoped that the competent aurors were working on more important cases and that the ones at Hogwarts were those who couldn’t be used for anything important.

But they were at Hogwarts, and they could be trouble, should they or Umbridge find a reason. That despicable witch was already tightening the Ministry’s hold on the school in her search for “liars and dissidents”, but she was too stupid to realize that her clumsy efforts actually created exactly the kind of people she hunted. Her Educational Decrees were travesties!

She glanced at her book again. On the other hand, those mental exercises had shown some effect. Harry had had less nightmares, or so he claimed, since he had started. Hermione wasn’t sure that was a statistically significant sample, but it certainly had helped her boyfriend. Maybe it would be enough. It certainly would be better if they could tell Ron about their last secret sooner rather than later - he’d be angry enough for hiding that from him, Hermione knew.

*****​

Ron caught himself whistling on the way down from his dorm, and stopped at once. It would not do to show that he was looking forward to his patrol. His brothers would never let him forget it, should he actually appear to like being a prefect. Or, worse, take it seriously. Or, even worse, they might notice that he liked being a prefect with Lavender Brown. The teasing that would cause… He shook his head, then sighed theatrically when he entered the common room. “I’m off to patrol.” Harry and Hermione, sitting so close together the girl would be more comfortable if she simply sat down in his friends lap, nodded, making some sympathetic noises.

Ron stepped through the door, and then leaned against the wall next to the portrait. He could have waited for Lavender, she tended to run a bit late, but he had grown to like waiting outside. It was a time to gather one’s thoughts, a bit of privacy one rarely got in a boarding school like Hogwarts, or a family with seven children.

This year certainly was turning out to be unlike the years before. Or too much like them, in a way. He liked training with Harry and Hermione, even if seeing them kissing was still a bit unsettling. He couldn’t help but feel a bit of an outsider. Occlumency supposedly helped with that, but he felt his prefect duties helped more. His duties with Lavender, to be precise. The girl really wasn’t like Hermione said she was like. Or something like that. Just because she cared about her appearance didn’t make her shallow. Not that he’d have told Hermione that - the girl would likely see it as a dig at her own appearance.

Lavender told him Hermione was insecure about her looks, even after the Yule Ball, and Ron had to agree that it made sense. He might even have had a hand in that, if he was honest with himself. ‘Hermione, you are a girl!’ wouldn’t have done wonders for her self-esteem. He winced at the memory, not even a year old yet. Not one of his finest moments. Not one of his finest years, to be honest, last year. Things had improved though. With and for his friends. Harry was good for Hermione, anyone could see that. Lavender had told him she had become more tolerant in their dorm. Ron wasn’t sure if that was simply an effect of Hermione focusing on more important matters than the antics of students, but he hadn’t told Lavender that.

“Ron! There you are!” Lavender had stopped asking him why he preferred to wait outside the dorm a week ago. She still liked to remind him that he could wait inside, but in a nice way. So unlike his family.

“Here I am. Ready for our patrol?” He pushed off the wall, and straightened.

“Yes.” Lavender had her hands folded behind her back and was smiling at him. Ron suddenly noticed that she had redone her makeup even though it was a late patrol - by the time they’d be back, the others would be asleep already. Or at least in bed. He stopped that train of thoughts before it got derailed.

“Let’s go then. How was your day?”

“Oh, it was great! Parvati heard from her sister while studying for Flitwick’s assignment that Marietta had a rant about Hermione, and Lovegood asked her if she was mad about Hermione beating her twice now - in academics, and in love.”

“Really?” It wasn’t that Ron was interested in gossip, but… well, the things one heard about fellow students…

“Really!” They started their tour.

*****​

It was near the end of their patrols that they found trouble. Or rather, trouble found them. If not for the training he had gone through, especially Harry’s idea of fighting in darkness, or with only little light, Ron would not have seen the movement in the shadows of the stairs leading to the library. If not for Hermione’s insane training schedule, he might not have been fast enough to react.

But he had, and was. His wand had snapped up and he had cast a shielding spell before he had realized that he was under attack. When two hexes splashed against his shield he was already moving in front of Lavender, catching the one aimed at her as well. And the flashes from the colliding spells provided enough light for him to see where the hidden attackers were. Then it was like in training. He sent out stunners while moving to his left, to flank them. Lavender was shrieking with surprise and fear, though, where Hermione or Harry would have been casting already. It didn’t matter. One of their enemies was down already, the next was hit with a stunner while another hex was stopped by Ron’s shield, and the third didn’t manage to cast again before he fell to the ground, unconscious as well.

“Lumos.” Ron’s spell confirmed what he had strongly suspected from the glimpses he had seen during the short fight. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle.

“What…” Lavender was staring, at him, he realized, as much as at the three students on the floor.

“Are you ok?” She nodded, still staring open-mouthed. But she had her wand out.

“Attacking a prefect patrol. That should earn them detention.” Ron didn’t expect anything to come from it, not for those three. Snape would protect them. Or Umbridge, he realized. Maybe this was a plot? He knew Umbridge didn’t like him, he as Harry’s friend, and of course Dad’s son. Maybe he should leave, and ignore the situation. A glance at Lavender ended that. She’d never keep that quiet, the next day everyone would have heard of it.

“Go fetch McGonagall.” To his surprise, she simply nodded, and then ran off towards the teacher’s quarters.

A few minutes later, Lavender returned, with a more than slightly irate-looking deputy Headmistress. Snape hadn’t turned up, so he probably hadn’t been in on this, Ron realized - usually the foul git was just around the corner when Malfoy tried something, ready to ruin a Gryffindor’s day.

“What happened here, Mister Weasley?” Ron was sure Lavender would have told her what had happened already, twice probably, but the tone of his head of house didn’t allow any backtalk. Kind of like his mum.

“Well, we were on patrol when suddenly, hexes flew at us from this corner.” He stepped a bit back. “We were around here. I cast a shield and stopped the hexes, and stunned them. I didn’t know who they were until after the fact.”

“You stunned those three, Mister Weasley?” McGonagall sounded as if she doubted him.

“Oh, he did! He moved so quickly, I didn’t have time to react until it was over already!” Lavender was positively gushing now - she was obviously over her shock. And the way she was beaming at him made Ron feel like he was a head taller.

“Very well. I’ll take it from here. Do not speak of this until I give you permission. Do you understand?” She glared at both of them, as if they had done something wrong! Still, Ron nodded. He didn’t want to make trouble for his friends - their training was more important than some school stuff. It seemed to satisfy the old witch. “Return to your dorm then.”

Ron had some trouble convincing Lavender not to tell everyone what had happened. The witch was just too excited. He grabbed her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down some and make her listen to him, and suddenly they were staring at each other, and she had stopped talking.

“Ah…” He swallowed, suddenly nervous. “Lavender…” he didn’t manage to continue, since at that moment she bent forward and kissed him. On the lips.

“Thank you, Ron, you saved me!” He managed to nod in response.

By the time they reached the dorms, he still was trying to figure out if that kiss had just been a thank you for him saving her, or if it meant something more. Girls were confusing.

*****​

The day after “Malfoy’s Ambush” Hermione was sitting with Harry and Ron in the library. Protected by privacy spells they appeared to do homework, but actually were exercising occlumency- or, without anyone able to test them, what they hoped was occlumency - and planning. Hermione had persuaded her two friends, with some trouble though, to skip the next training session, maybe even the next three sessions, just in case Umbridge, Snape or the aurors decided to harass the three. She wasn’t altogether unhappy about that, since she considered occlumency more important than defense, although Harry disagreed. Still, she was not that happy about the reason for this change of schedule.

“Thanks to Lavender the whole school now knows Ron’s far more skilled than they thought, and will suspect the same of us.” It would have been impressive how fast that piece of fluff managed to spread the news, if not for the consequences, Hermione thought.

Ron was about to defend his fellow prefect - and soon to be girlfriend, if Hermione had correctly interpreted Lavender whispering to Parvati, followed by the latter’s squeal of glee - when Harry stepped in to calm the waters. “It’s not a big problem. Apart from Malfoy and his idiot minions, I think everyone was aware we were not exactly average students since our first year.”

“True.” Hermione didn’t like it, but she had to admit his point. Even though she was sure that many students didn’t know exactly what they had done, and what they could do. Though that was still the case, mostly. “We still need to be more cautious.”

“That’s why we’re here, and not elsewhere.” Ron sounded quite happy. No surprise there, she thought, he had impressed the school, and especially little miss makeup. “But you know, I’ve been thinking…”

That almost begged for a snarky remark, but Hermione was more mature than that. Barely. Besides, it would have been an old joke. “Yes?”

“If I hadn’t been there, then they would have hit Lavender and whoever she was with. Who knows what they had planned.” Ron sounded serious, and Hermione was glad she hadn’t let her annoyance out. He was right too - they were no children anymore, and neither were Malfoy and his friends. And with Voldemort back from the dead and their parents following that monster again, the young witch was sure that whatever the children of Death Eaters planned, it was no mere prank. “I’d like to train her too.” What? Hermione’s head whipped around to stare at her friend, and he quickly held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Not with us, not for that. But I’d like it if she was able to defend herself from Slytherins. And pass her DADA exams.”

Oh, yes, the exams. On one hand, Hermione was looking forward to Umbridge being revealed as the utter failure as a teacher that she was. On the other hand, it would cost the students so much, and as Snape proved each year, it would not have to have consequences anyway. To think that those two sick individuals were allowed to harm, even destroy the futures of so many children…

“You’re right, but even if we could spare the time, we can’t risk training her, or others. Umbridge and the aurors would be all over us.” Harry leaned back, frustration clear on his face.

“If only we could get rid of her and replace her with a competent teacher. The O.W.L.s will be a catastrophe.” Hermione frowned. “I can’t believe that no one is doing anything about that! Doesn’t anyone care about the O.W.L.s? They decide a witch’s future!”

“I am not sure they realize what is happening. We’ve had so many different DADA teachers, one per year, and few are as organized as you are.” Harry put his hand on her shoulder and gently squeezed. “I am sure the Ravenclaws at least are studying on their own.”

“We could at least try to make the Gryffindors study independently. That would help Lavender too.” If everyone pitched in, Hermione was sure her fellow students could learn enough to do well at the O.W.L.s, if they started now. N.E.W.T.s too.

“They’d expect us to be involved as well.” Harry was right, Hermione realized at once. If she, the stray Ravenclaw in Gryffindor, as Parvati had called her one, was not involved in such a project - or was not leading it, she admitted - the rest would be wondering what exactly she was involved in. Or if she wanted them to fail. Such a backlash, at this point, with Voldemort returned, would be worse than in the year before.

“We can’t just do nothing.” Hermione ran her hands through her hair. Compared to Lavender’s curls her mane was still looking too frizzled and bushy. But she had other, more important concerns than cosmetic charms.

“If we do something, Umbridge will focus on us, again.” Harry sounded as frustrated as she felt, and this time she tried to console him.

“If we do not do anything, who will?” Hermione was close to ranting about the wizards being sheep, when Ron spoke up.

“Why don’t we spread that worry about the exams? If everyone is frustrated, they cannot pin it on us, and something might be done about that toad.” Hermione had given up trying to correct Ron about not calling Snape “Professor Snape”, and she had not even started to correct him about that stupid witch posing as a teacher.

“We have to be very careful though, Malfoy and his ilk will try to blame us even without proof. And Snape will support him.” Not for the first time Hermione wished she could do something about that foul little bigot and his equally foul protector.

“If Lavender was on the job, the whole school would be in the know a day later.” Harry laughed. He stopped laughing when Hermione and Ron stared at him. “Are you serious?”

They were. A day later, the school was in an uproar. A week later, the Daily Prophet, to the surprise of not a few, had taken up the story and parents started to get vocal about the appalling quality of this year’s defense lessons.

*****​

It was a happy Dumbledore that sat down to read the Daily Prophet that day. He hadn’t lost his influence completely, after all. When he had heard of the latest rumors spreading among the students - quite factual ones, in this case, for a change, Miss Granger was quite thorough - he had contacted one of his remaining friends at the Prophet, and given his side of the whole debacle, how he had had a teacher hired, but who had been arrested, on a pretext, with nothing coming of it later, to be replaced with Madam Umbridge. That Cornelius arranged that so he could secure a well-paid job for his undersecretary, probably as a bribe, was something his friend had come up with on his own. Dumbledore had pulled a few more strings to slip this by the Prophet’s editor in chief, who was in Malfoy’s purse, and now Cornelius and dear Dolores were facing the wrath of concerned parents from all over Britain. A job well done, if he said so himself.

The incident with young Malfoy had been a potential problem, but Minerva had handled that well, despite all her complaining about the students again pushing her into committing crimes. Officially, nothing had happened that night. No reports were filed, no complaints made. He had to keep Severus in line, of course - that man’s hatred of Harry and his friends started to become an issue. The students all knew what had happened, but as long as Draco would not say anything - and a few spells had ensured that - no one could do anything about it. And it showed Harry and his friends had been training, and doing well. That calmed some of his worries about their security, with aurors of questionable morals and loyalty at Hogwarts.

More cause for concerns though were young Malfoy's plans for Miss Brown. A few compulsion charms - and he was getting rather free with them, he realized, but what other choice was there in this situation? - removed that particular danger from the school, at least for the time being. He’d have to end the charms before the young Slytherin returned home over the holidays. And of course, the ease of his intrusion into the boy’s mind and memories drove the urgency of providing Harry and his friends with better defenses home.

If only Remus was not a wanted man - or werewolf - still. He would have no real trouble finding a competent teacher now, once Dolores was gone, but one Harry and Miss Granger would trust? It couldn’t be helped, the children would have to spend the holidays working hard to shore up their mental defenses, instead of taking a well-deserved rest from schoolwork and other concerns.

But, he thought, popping a lemon drop into his mouth and petting Fawkes, things were looking up. There hadn’t been an attempt at the prophecy either so far.

*****​

Harry felt rather nervous. He had felt nervous since weeks, thinking of this moment. To be honest, he had almost been glad that they had not been able to get an occlumency teacher, it had served as an excuse to stall with this particular revelation.

He and Hermione, who was nervous herself, as he knew, were back in the Room of Requirement, facing Ron. Who was starting to look nervous himself, now that Harry took a closer look. Maybe it was infectious. Or he had picked up on their nervosity. But Hermione had been right, they had to go forward, sooner or later time would run out. Even if Voldemort was still hiding he was surely preparing for another war, and gathering strength.

“So…” he trailed off. “I, we, had hoped we had occlumency training by this time, but it can’t be helped. There’s one more thing you need to know, Ron.” Hermione nodded, biting her lip. Some Gryffindors we are, Harry thought.

Ron looked at them, now very nervous. “Yes?” Though nervous was good. It was better than anger at being kept in the dark, again.

Harry took a deep breath. “Remember our talk about the Slayer?”

“Yes?”

“We are working with her against Voldemort.”

“What!?”


Chapter 7: Christmas Revelations