Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Hermione's Furry Little Problem	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 242818 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 20
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its associated properties. They belong to JK Rowling. I make no money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
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“D...dead?” gasped Deputy Minister Weasley, “Draco Malfoy is dead?”
“Yes Mr Weasley,” the Minister replied grimly as she continued the struggle to contain her rage.
It wouldn’t do to lose her composure. She needed her wits about her to ensure that Percy Weasley would be able to perform a necessary task. If she misplayed her hand, it could unravel some of the work she had done with the lad.
Percy Weasley had come along very nicely in embracing many of the harshest policies of the Pureblood Agenda. It hadn’t actually taken very much effort to draw him further down the path he had already been traveling, but he didn’t need to know that Daphne Greengrass and Ginny Weasley had been justifiably defending themselves. Dolores needed Percy’s anger.
“Draco Malfoy was murdered most viciously last night.”
“So.... so that means... the Malfoy line...” Percy sputtered.
“...Is extinct! Yes indeed, that is precisely what it means Mr Weasley!” Minister Dolores Umbridge’s nostrils flared.
“B...but how? ....Who?” Percy’s head spun as he considered the horrifying implications of the ending of one of the most prestigious Pureblood Houses in Britain.
“Can you not guess, Mr Weasley?” Dolores’s voice took on the treacliest tone which she always employed when she sought to lead someone to her desired conclusion.
“Potter!” the Deputy Minister spat venomously. “It was Potter wasn’t it? I knew we should have snatched him and his little brood the moment Dumbledore did a bunk and went to ground...”
“Indeed!” Dolores nodded. “Or rather, according to Gregory Goyle--who was seriously injured during the attack--it was a member of Potter’s little entourage... Miss Greengrass I believe, aided and abetted by none other than your sister...”
“NO! Surely not... Ginny?” Percy went white. “Not Ginny,” he muttered. But then Percy’s blood began to boil and the blood rushed back into his cheeks. “POTTER! He should be arrested immediately. He put her up to it... I just know it!”
“I am afraid it’s even worse than that,” Dolores said quietly. “It is too late to arrest him, or any of those known as the ‘Unaffiliated.’ They have all gone to ground--with the considerable assistance of your brothers Fred and George. Your brothers staged an uprising in the aftermath of the murder of Draco Malfoy, and escaped with numerous muggleborn students from the confines of Hogwarts...”
“Bloody Hell!” swore Percy, “I knew they were no good, filthy, treasonous, louts. What of my brother Ron, and Ginny?” Percy looked at Dolores imploringly. “I... I know they’re close to Potter--but they’re brainwashed. Can we not show them some leniency?”
Minister Umbridge would have cackled with glee if she could. She had Percy Weasley in the palm of her hand now. She knew he would do whatever was required.
“Perhaps so... Percy,” Dolores addressed her Deputy Minister personally with a sad smile, “I feel as you do, that the youngest of your clan may yet be shown the light. But in order to do so--we must deal forcefully with the root of their dysfunction...”
“My father!” Percy snarled, “Where is he? He should be brought up on charges immediately.”
“Fret not my dear boy. He has already been detained,” Dolores said soothingly. “He is being held in the Department of Mysteries, awaiting interrogation. As a member of Dumbledore’s Order, I am hopeful that he will be able to yield actionable intelligence regarding the whereabouts of Dumbledore and the Potters--and perhaps also provide some information about the nature of the Secret Weapon employed by Dumbledore against Voldemort’s forces at Hogwarts...”
“Fred and George!” Percy scowled. “We should bring them in as well. It simply won’t do to have them running around spreading insurrection and thumbing their noses at authority.”
“I quite agree Percy,” sighed the Minister, hiding her glee at her protege’s erudition behind another sad smile and a voice dripping with honey. Yes, Percy Weasley was coming along nicely indeed. “It’s such a shame when family goes wrong. I know how hard this must be for you...”
“Not at all Minister,” Percy sniffed disdainfully. “I always knew that Fred and George were destined for Azkaban... er... prison anyway, seeing as Azkaban is defunct now.”

~o0o~

Having had the least experience with muggle media, Daphne, Luna, and Parvati were the most fascinated by the television programmes. Fleur was somewhat familiar with the general idea, due to following French muggle fashion and pop-culture magazines, but she had never actually watched muggle television either. Dora and Jennifer delighted in finding programmes on the cable access channels to show the others after Harry had his fill of the BBC news.
“I was just thinking Hermione, we really ought to get a Wiz-Vision to stay up to date with whatever the Ministry is up to,” Harry said quietly while the others watched an episode of Dr Who. “I should go to Diagon Alley and get one.”
“I think that’s an excellent idea Harry!” Hermione flicked her furry ears as she thought. “I wish I could go to Diagon Alley with you, but even with being able to turn my tail invisible, I think I’d be too recognisable--the Minister is sure to have people looking for us...”
“...Possibly even Aurors,” groaned Harry. “She’s bound to have an arrest warrant out for us on some concocted charges by now. I’ll have to morph and go in disguise...”
“...and you should take Dora with you,” Hermione added. “You can both go in disguise...”
“Go where?” Dora interjected when she heard her name being mentioned.
“To get a Wiz-Vision,” Harry replied.

~o0o~

“Mr Ragnok sees clients by appointment only, Mr...?”
“Bond, James Bond,” the dashing wizard replied, saying the first thing which came into his head. The elegant witch at his side did her best to stifle a giggle as the wizard continued speaking, “I think Mr Ragnok will make an exception in my case. I’m a former client of his.”
Griphook eyed the wizard and witch suspiciously. “I’ll see what I can do Mr Bond... just one moment.”
Moments later the debonair wizard and the sophisticated witch were in Ragnok’s office. The Solicitor Advocate of Gringotts steepled his long spindly fingers and regarded his clients shrewdly with dark glittering eyes.
“Mr Bond is it? Strange that I do not recall having a client by that name. However, I do believe that we can come to some sort of business arrangement... Mr Potter!”
“How did you know?” Harry gasped. “I was going to tell you anyway, but how...?”
“Trade secret!” the Goblin chuckled, giving Harry a wink. “Let me just say for now that I am extremely perceptive. I presume that you need to access your vault, without the Ministry being alerted to your presence on Diagon Alley today.”
“Er... yeah! Is that possible?”
“Absolutely, Mr Potter! Gringotts takes pride in being able to offer our high profile clients private and secure access to their vaults. It is not entirely unheard of for some to deign to enter Gringotts under an assumed identity. As long as you identify yourself to Gringotts properly, it is of little concern to us how you present yourselves to the wizard world... I’ll have someone take you to your vault in short order.”
While Harry and Dora waited for their escort, Harry was tempted to say sorry about the Dragon Incident--even though Harry felt a bit more sorry for the Dragon itself. But Ragnok seemed to understand Harry’s apologetic expression and shook his head slightly.
“You should be most pleased with our new security features Mr Potter,” Ragnok said loudly. “After the Lestrange Affair, Gringotts Management saw fit to reconsider employing dangerous creatures to guard the vaults... The Safety of our Clientele is as important to us as is the Security of their Valuables.”
A short while later Harry and Dora departed Gringotts, Harry’s pockets now full and jangling. An eerie gloom had settled over Diagon Alley which had nothing to do with the clouding over afternoon skies, and shoppers darted about furtively, not looking anyone in the eye. Aurors glanced at Harry and Dora, but all the Aurors saw were a well-heeled wizard and witch who were clearly of good breeding.
Harry and Dora were both discomfited by the new uniforms which the Aurors patrolling the streets were wearing. To their eyes, the long trench-coats were now less reminiscent of Sherlock Holmes and more resembling of those worn by Nazi SS officers in muggle films.
To set off the whole oppressive atmosphere, an enormous screen, taking up the side of an entire building, featured the smiling toad-like figure of Minister Umbridge herself, dressed in pink and waving a white-gloved hand. Large bold text flashed across the lower portion of the screen:

THE MINISTRY IS YOUR FRIEND

SERVING TRUTH AND JUSTICE FOR YOUR SECURE FUTURE
“Laying it on a bit thick, isn’t she!?” Dora muttered.
“Just a bit!” Harry snorted.
Harry nervously glanced at the Wanted Posters again, thankful that he and Dora at least were skilled metamorphmagi. Familiar faces peered at him from the Wanted Posters plastering the walls and lampposts along Diagon Alley.
Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes gazed at Harry, and Snape’s scowling countenance glared at him, from Wanted Posters labeled Undesirable Number 1 and Undesirable Number 2 respectively. It had been a bit of a shock to see the faces of Fred and George grinning at him from a single poster, designated as Undesirable Number 5 and Undesirable Number 6. Harry supposed it had been inevitable, but it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty for getting the Twins involved.
But it was seeing Hermione’s anxiously twitching furry ears and his own opalescent green eyes staring back at him from the poster they shared which unnerved Harry the most. The Potters had been assigned the Number 3 and Number 4 rankings on the Undesirable list.
Dora glanced worriedly at Harry, knowing exactly why seeing Hermione’s face on a Wanted Poster next to his own was distressing him the most.
“Come on then, let’s get this done with and get outta here,” Dora muttered. “You don’t need to be lookin’ at these all day.”
“Y...yeah, you’re right Dora,” Harry gulped.
They strolled down the street and finally spotted Wiz-Vision monitors in the Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment window display.
“They’re a lot less expensive than I thought they’d be,” Harry murmured when he peered at the sticker prices inside the shop.
“Ah, those are the Ministry subsidised models you’re lookin’ at,” said the shop owner who had overheard. “Over here are the models designed for more discerning folk with such fine taste as yourselves--they have many more features...”
Harry managed to keep a straight face as the shop owner tried to sell him the most expensive model, which was quite large; the owner of the shop was delighted when he purchased it. Harry was a bit concerned about carrying the Wiz-Vision, but it turned out to be much lighter than it looked.
“This is a bit too bulky to apparate with though,” Dora remarked, frowning pensively.
“Why don’t we just go out through the Leaky Cauldron and hail a cab?” Harry suggested quietly.
“Yeah... suppose that’s best really,” Dora agreed with a nod.
Tom the Bartender looked up at the couple who had entered the Pub from the Alley side. He didn’t think he recognised them, but they looked posh.
“Can I get you two something, Mr and Mrs...?”
“...Bond, James and Vesper Bond,” tittered the elegant witch in her poshest accent. She looked at her smirking “husband” with pleading eyes.
“Oh... er alright then, what would you like Vesper dearest?” Harry asked, struggling to keep a straight face. He almost lost his composure completely when she put in their orders.
“Two Mad-Eye Martinis please--shaken, not stirred.”
They sat down with their drinks glancing up at the Wiz-Visions around the Pub. It felt a bit odd seeing the screens in the Leaky Cauldron. Harry supposed that the invention of the Wiz-Vision was taking off internationally. The screens were all currently displaying an International Quidditch match between Venezuela and Germany, and Venezuela was leading by 70 points. Harry returned his attention to Dora and the drinks.
“Er...” Harry raised an eyebrow when he peered at the gruesome looking garnish on his Martini.
“It’s alright--it’s not a real bloody eyeball,” Dora giggled quietly. “It’s a peeled lychee stuffed with a blueberry and drizzled with raspberry preserve. And it’s always hilarious to order this when we’re having drinks with Moody. He hates ‘em!”
As they sipped their martinis, Harry and Dora both thought that it was a shame that Hermione couldn’t be there with them.
“We’ll ‘ave to use muggle disguise techniques on her and do this again in a muggle pub,” Dora softly chortled. “James Bond really isn’t quite right unless he’s got a girl on each arm...”
Big fat raindrops were already pelting by the time the taxi-cab pulled up next to the curb in front of Number 13 Grimmauld place. The elegantly attired couple got soaked as they waited for the cab to leave. Then they disappeared into the non-space between Number 11 and Number 13 carrying the enormous flat box between them.
“You’re both drenched,” squeaked Hermione, twirling her bushy tail happily when she saw that Harry and Dora had both arrived home safely. “Now let’s get you out of your wet things before you both catch colds!” she giggled.
Hermione dragged the dripping and amused Harry and Dora to the Potters’ bedroom to “get them out of their wet things,” and well over an hour passed before the three of them returned to the others with grins on their faces.
Parvati helped Fleur read the instructions and set up the Wiz-Vision in the parlour on the other side of the fireplace. Meanwhile Daphne, Jennifer, and Luna were roaring with laughter at a Monty Python rerun on the muggle television. Luna’s fluffy white tail quivered with delight as she rolled around on the sofa chortling. Jennifer was thrilled that they were thoroughly enjoying their first proper taste of muggle TV entertainment at its finest.

~o0o~

Albus Dumbledore sipped the champagne that his charming host, Henri Delacour, had provided. Olympe Maxime was already on her second glass, wishing that she and Henri had better news for her good friend.
“I am so sorry Albus,” Olympe began, “but ze ICW Committee for the Investigation of Statutory Violations weell not interfere with ze sitting head of the British Ministry unless you have some more substantial evidence zat she has violated International Laws... At ze moment, to ze committee, eet simply appears to be an Internal Dispute.”
“I understand,” Albus sighed and drained his glass before continuing, “I was hopeful that the actions of Minister Umbridge might raise some red flags with the senior committee members... however, having been Supreme Mugwump myself before the Wizengamot rescinded my appointment to the ICW, I was all too aware that my petition would probably die in committee.”
“I wish we could do more openly,” said Henri Delacour glumly as he poured Dumbledore another glass of champagne. “I was most grateful when Madame McGonagall informed me that my daughter managed to reach safe haven with young Monsieur Potter and his wife...”
“However, I am pleased to inform you that I now have several underground teams in position in Britain ready to assist you at a moment’s notice should you require them.”
“Thank you Henri!” Albus nodded gratefully as he took a sip from his refilled glass. “I may have need of them if the rumours are true.”
“And take heart Chéri...” Olympe added, “...at least ze ICW has denied your Minister’s request for ze issuance of an International Arrest Warrant against you. Her evidence against you ees also lacking.”
“That is something indeed,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled, cheered by that bit of good news. He raised his glass. “Thank you both for your kindness and your solidarity--to friendship then?”
“Oui--to friendship,” Olympe replied, raising her third glass of champagne with misty eyes.
“To friendship!” Henri raised his own glass and smiled. “And to the brave continuing struggle for liberté, égalité, and fraternité!”
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Hermione's Furry Little Problem