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The Apprentice	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 62961 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 28
- 29
- 30
Chapter 29

The white, sandy beach was deserted. Despite the burning sun, the nice breeze, the wonderful waves of the crystal-clear, turquoise ocean, and the holiday season, no tourist was found anywhere near him. Lying on a luxurious, reclining chair underneath the shade of a conveniently relocated palm tree with a cold beverage in his hand, Gellert Grindelwald enjoyed his day.

And a wonderful day it was.

The weather was lovely, even though he had to redirect a class five hurricane out of its path at the last minute. There was nothing as fun as banishing volatile weather fronts. Sure, it would re-emerge and hit a completely unsuspecting Mexico any second now, but that was not his problem. He didn’t live there after all. And said hurricane had provided him with a completely empty beach on the Florida Keys.

Although, empty …?

‘Go away, Marcus,’ he ordered, waving his hand at the man who’d attempted to walk up to him stealthily from behind.

‘How did you know I was here?’ the black clad man asked, baffled.

‘You have a very specific odour,’ Gellert replied, wrinkling his nose.

‘Funny.’

‘Yeah, that’s me, Mr. Comedian.’ The comedian took another sip of his beverage and sighed delighted. ‘Absolutely delicious. A well-made Rum Runner with this view …’ he said, waving with his hand at the ocean, ‘it’s pure heaven on earth.’

‘I have important news.’

‘Not interested,’ Gellert replied dismissively. ‘Take it to the inevitably losing moron trying to pull one over on Albus now.’

Marcus halted in his footsteps, scratching his neck, for he seemed not to know what to do. Then, he knelt down anyway and whispered in the blond’s ear. A split-second later, he wished he’d shouted it from a distance.

A very far and safe distance.

‘WHAT!?’ Gellert boomed, flying to his feet furiously – his wand already in his hand. ‘Why didn’t you come to tell me this immediately?’

Marcus tumbled back, falling on his behind in the sand. ‘I – I couldn’t find you,’ he stuttered.

‘You couldn’t find me,’ Gellert sneered. ‘You, not being able to find me is like not being able to find a grain of sand on this beach. I can still be called by you, idiot.’

Marcus’s eyes widened. ‘I … I really didn’t know tha-that charm still wo-worked.’

Marcus froze, closing his eyes in fear at seeing the fury on the other man’s face. A fury, that’d been infamous among Grindelwald’s most loyal followers. A fury, that not many on the outside world had ever seen, unless they’d been close enough to him to witness it. And those close enough rarely witnessed anything ever again.

When nothing dastardly happened, Marcus peeked through his eyelids.

The beach was empty.

He let out a sigh in relief. He was still alive and had delivered the news as Aloysia had told him to do. Everything was set in motion. Victory would be theirs.

Loud cracks erupted around Marcus on all sides. Cloaked figures had him surrounded, their wands out and pointed. He tried Apparition, but wards had been risen around him.

‘Federal American Auror Bureau!’ a female voice boomed. ‘Drop your wand!’

With a scowl, Marcus threw his wand away and raised his hands.

‘You’re under arrest for improper use of weather charms,’ the same voice called out as ropes wrapped around him, ‘and the subsequent deaths and destruction said charm evokes.’

Improper use of what?

‘That’s Marcus Bianchi!’ an excited, male voice shouted. ‘Grindelwald’s right-hand man.’

Oh great, they’ve id’ed me.

Victory suddenly seemed miles away for Gellert’s right-hand man.

---

The atmosphere was still tense as the Burrow’s kitchen slowly filled with curious Order Members. Moody’s wooden leg stomped just that little bit more audibly over the tiles than normally as he walked around and around, examining the environment in short, abrupt paces while the others took up a seat. Professor Dumbledore had sat down at the head of the table with Hermione directly on his right. Harry had immediately scooted down in the chair next to her, glaring warningly in basically everyone’s direction. Hermione patted his hand, and when he looked at her with concern shining through his familiar, green eyes, she sent him a grateful, reassuring smile and angled her head towards him.

‘I’m all right,’ she whispered through the screeching sounds of chairs being moved and people sitting down, trying to ignore the pulse of desire in her pubic bone.

Harry’s face turned sceptical.

‘I really am fine, Harry. You needn’t worry. He didn’t hurt me.’ He just fucking left before allowing me a release, and I’m so screwed now.

‘Yeah, right, he only came by to help,’ he replied sarcastically, not realising how close to the truth his whispered statement was. ‘I know him, Hermione. You can’t tell me he didn’t use the Cruciatus Curse on you.’

Hermione winced slightly, causing Harry’s temper to flare. ‘I knew it,’ he hissed furiously underneath his breath. ‘I knew it,’ he muttered, ‘that–’

But whatever “wonderful” traits Harry was allocating to Lord Voldemort were drowned out by Molly Weasley’s clear voice.

‘Ginny, Ron, out.’

Harry and Hermione turned their heads to see Ginny being pushed to the hall by Mrs. Weasley and Ron leaning against the far wall, gawking at his mother in surprise. He’d not taken a seat yet, even though the one next to Harry had been vacant, until Tonks stumbled into it.

‘No,’ Ginny said, stomping with her foot. ‘Hermione is our friend, too.’

‘This is an Order Meeting, and you’re both underage.’

‘Yes, bro, this is not for little kiddies,’ Fred said, patting his exasperated brother on the head teasingly in passing.

Ron stepped aside to look at his mother again. ‘Harry’s underage, too,’ he objected; his eyes flickering in their direction, yet he avoided looking them in the eye directly.

‘Yeah, well,’ Molly replied, looking disapprovingly in the same direction as if she felt those two had no business being here as well. ‘You youngsters shouldn’t have to deal with–’

‘Molly,’ Dumbledore interrupted gently. ‘It’s best if everyone stays.’

‘Yes,’ Ginny said victoriously, and she quickly jumped in the nearest chair available as if by taking a seat her presence was a given at this meeting.

‘If you don’t let them stay, they’re going to hear everything from Harry and Hermione afterwards anyway,’ Arthur added softly, wrapping an arm around his conflicted wife.

‘Yes – well,’ Molly said doubtfully. ‘I … I suppose that’s true.’

Ron let out a sigh in relief when he obviously was allowed to stay and looked around to find most chairs were taken by now. His eyes rested shortly on his friends, who were whispering to each other. Ron’s face contorted at the sight of them. Then, Fred drew everyone’s attention.

‘Eh, George, sure a chair with four legs is enough to keep you seated?’ A flick of his twin’s wand and George’s seat grew several more legs. ‘We wouldn’t want you to tumble down again, as you so “gracefully” did in the yard.’

‘Your concern is touching,’ George replied dryly, flicking his wand when Fred tried to sit down, causing his brother to mow around with his arms to remain upright when his chair danced all around the room with him. The audience’s laughter at Fred’s hilarious facial expressions during his acrobatically impossible moves on the skipping chair broke some of the tension. When Fred finally landed on his back with his feet dangling in the air next to George’s eight-legged chair, everyone was a lot more relaxed.

Well, almost everyone.

‘Move aside, Remus,’ Moody barked, conjuring an additional chair with his wand and scooting in between Remus and Albus.

Hermione felt that was an awfully strategically position for him to sit in, right opposite from her at the table with a good view on the rest of the room as well. And … she was pretty sure his wand wasn’t in his pocket at the moment either. Yet, she couldn’t check if he had it drawn since his wide sleeves covered his arms fully. Uncomfortably, she squirmed in her seat. She had no idea what Professor Dumbledore was planning to say. What if she couldn’t keep her face in check and Moody saw it? That magical eye of his wasn’t particularly reassuring to look at if you had something to hide.

Merlin, she hoped it didn’t show on her that she felt horny, lusting after their enemy. That would definitely get her a one-way ticket to Azkaban. Oh my, she had to keep her Occlumency up. What if he could do Stage One Legilimency with that eye of his?

Quickly, she averted her eyes and looked across the room again. Most Order Members had their attention focused on Dumbledore, who was leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his fingertips pressed to one another, waiting till Fred had scrambled back to his feet and sat down. The few people who met her eyes weren’t giving her hostile glares to her relief. Curiosity, worry, and some signs of suspicion were visible in their expressions, which she could understand. She’d been suspicious, too, if it’d been anyone else but her whom this happened to. Ron kept averting eye contact with her, and it pained her to see he’d sat down on the farthest seat away from them. Yet, Ron wasn’t her biggest problem at the moment.

Aurors, possible Legilimency-capable Aurors were.

Rapidly, she searched her mind for some catchy tune you couldn’t shake even if you wanted to. It was best to be prepared before a spell got cast her way. It didn’t take her long to find one. As the lyrics ran through her mind, she met Ljudmila Volkova’s amber eyes.

Mamma Mia, here I go again. My – my, how can I resist you?

The elderly witch gained a small smile on her face briefly before her face turned serious again. Hermione realised the female Keeper was the only one who still stood, leaning with her back against the door to the gardens, and it didn’t seem like she planned to sit down any time soon.

In case something went wrong with Professor Dumbledore’s explanation?

She was blocking the exit. Well, with that fragile-appearing figure "blocking" was a bit of an odd word to use, but she was still … there. Plus, magically speaking, there was probably only one person in this room who could take Ljudmila Volkova, and he was on her side, sitting at the head of the table, right next to Hermione.

Look at me now, will I ever learn? I don’t know how …

‘Alastor, do you need to have your wand out?’ Dumbledore asked, looking sideways when the room had turned quiet.

‘Why? Does it bother you?’ the ex-Auror asked, turning his attention away from Hermione to the wizard sitting in the seat next to him.

‘Yes, as a matter of fact, it does,’ Dumbledore said, watching him seriously. ‘It’s bad enough we failed to protect Hermione. I would appreciate it if you weren’t standing by, ready to hex her as well. She’s had a difficult summer, Alastor, as you had a difficult year in that suitcase. How would you feel if wherever you went people were preparing to hex you just in case?’

‘She’s been his prisoner?’ Moody asked, glancing in Hermione’s direction briefly.

‘Yes,’ Albus said immediately.

The two held gazes for a long time, ignoring the horrified gasps that came from some of the others at the table. In the end, Moody sighed and removed his wand from his sleeve back into his pocket.

‘Thank you, my friend,’ Albus said, patting his arm comfortingly. ‘I know how much that cost you.’

Moody grumbled something indecipherable in return and folded his arms over each other, staring at Hermione directly. ‘You’d better have a good explanation as to why he was here now, Miss Granger.’

‘As I said before, she can’t answer your questions, Alastor, Lord Voldemort made sure of that.’

‘A little Veritaserum–’

‘–won’t enable her to talk to you. We’ve already tried that and all it did was cause her severe pain until she passed out.’

‘We?’

‘Severus and I.’

Dumbledore dropped the name of the dead Professor and fellow Order Member like it was nothing, but the impact it had on the others was significant. Several murmured the name in confusion, their eyes flickering to Hermione, wondering if she knew what had happened. Everyone knew Snape had been killed by Lord Voldemort himself, yet the details concerning the circumstances had been sketchy at best. Hermione dropped her head and watched her hands, taking on an appropriate sad posture and expression. It wasn’t hard since all feelings of desire had vacated her at the mere mention of Severus Snape. Eww … that hair alone would’ve been enough to turn her off men for the rest of her life.

Mamma Mia … Where on earth is Dumbledore going with this? … Just one look and I can hear a bell ring.

‘Now, shall I start at the beginning?’ Dumbledore said, looking around the table calmly. ‘I think it will be easier to follow for everyone if I do so.’

Tonks nodded.

‘Please do,’ Arthur Weasley said, his face concerned.

‘Go ahead, Albus, we won’t interrupt,’ Kingsley said, leaning forward to give Alastor Moody a meaningful look.

‘Okay. It started at the end of last school year. When Hermione returned home with her parents, the house unfortunately wasn’t empty. Lord Voldemort was awaiting their arrival.’

‘Oh no,’ Molly said, slapping her hand in front of her mouth.

‘I thought you warded her parents’ house?’ Remus asked, his eyes flickering between Hermione and Albus.

‘I had,’ Dumbledore conceded. ‘Yet, he found a way through my safeguards.’

Remus groaned. ‘I said this would happen,’ he muttered, annoyed. ‘I told you to take her family elsewhere, but does anyone ever listen to me? No, we just keep on taking ridiculous risks that get people killed every time. It would’ve been obvious to a child they were a prime target without any means to defend themselves.’

‘And you were right,’ Albus said calmly.

‘Are they all right – her parents?’ Molly asked.

Albus nodded. ‘He didn’t hurt them. He gave Hermione an ultimatum: She could come with him freely and he’d leave them alone or …’ he trailed off there, knowing that everyone would be capable to fill in the blanks.

‘Are they safe now?’ Moody asked sharply.

‘Yes.’

‘He’s not blackmailing her with them right now?’

He didn’t look at Albus when he asked this, but at Hermione. She shook her head in accordance with Dumbledore’s response, trying to look as sincere as possible with the Abba tune floating through her mind as a distraction.

Merlin, this was hard. Those were really, really horrible lies to tell. She didn’t like it that Dumbledore involved her parents in his story at all. She was already worried enough about them. Using them as a cover almost felt like a bad omen, like they made it more likely to happen in reality.

‘How can you be sure?’ Remus asked, waving with his arm across the table in irritation. ‘You thought their protection was good enough before and that obviously wasn’t true either.’

Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. ‘I won’t go into the details of their security, Remus. I’m sorry. It’s not you, but we’re with a lot of people here and if any one of us gets caught, he can extract that information too easily. Rest assured that they are unreachable to Lord Voldemort for the time being.’

‘Unlike her,’ Moody said sharply.

‘Yes,’ Dumbledore acknowledged calmly, as if he told them Santa Claus could enter any moment, bearing gifts. ‘Unfortunately, our wards aren’t good enough. That pendant makes it possible for him to reach her no matter where she is.’

That statement turned the entire kitchen into uproar.

Hermione kept her eyes downcast the entire time, watching her hands. She was fiddling with her fingers nervously, feeling somewhat guilty about the concern the others were having over her as she’d basically been doing the Dark Lord behind their backs. She hardly registered Dumbledore informing the others that trying to remove said necklace from her neck was impossible without getting her killed. Nor could she make out all the different suggestions that flew over the table since everyone spoke through one another and nobody seemed to be listening. Finally, Kingsley Shacklebolt rose to his feet, rammed with his fist on the table and boomed, ‘ENOUGH!’

It was silent immediately. Surprised at the irritation in the voice of the otherwise stoic Auror, Hermione stopped her study of her hands and raised her head. Kingsley was looking around the table, making eye contact with everyone as he said with clear emphasis on every single word, ‘This is not helping. We’re going to let Albus tell us the whole story before we discuss it. Once we have all the information, we can make an informed decision. Albus?’

‘Thank you, Kingsley. I couldn’t agree more.’

Yet, Hermione had the distinct feeling Dumbledore hadn’t minded the arguing. The more confusion there was, the easier it was for him not to get caught in a lie. It was probably why he kept dropping bomb after bomb with his statements.

‘Now, as I stated,’ Dumbledore calmly continued, ‘Lord Voldemort was at Hermione’s house, telling her she had four days to make up excuses to everyone and that she’d better make sure nobody suspected anything or her mother would die. He left that day, taking her mother with him and told her where to meet him next.’

Kingsley frowned. ‘Four days? Wait a second!’ he exclaimed, looking at Hermione enlightened and breaking his own order not to interrupt Albus Dumbledore. ‘You were at that school’s playground!’

Tonks’s head swivelled to Hermione. ‘That girl – that was you?’ she asked disbelievingly. ‘You kicked me?’

‘Sorry,’ Hermione muttered apologetically underneath her breath.

‘Sorry?’ Tonks asked, stunned. She almost made Harry tumble backwards, chair and all, when she leaned over him, flew her arms around Hermione and pulled her into a tight hug. ‘You saved my life.’

‘Not just yours,’ Kingsley said, leaning back, impressed.

But Tonks was too busy rocking Hermione back and forth to acknowledge anyone else. Every other second, Harry had to evade her elbow from colliding into his stomach. He didn’t succeed every time and his face took on a pained expression ever so often.

‘I owe you one, Hermione. Whenever you need a hard kick in your bottom, do contact me,’ Tonks joked, tightening her grip.

‘You’re smothering me,’ Hermione spoke in the Auror’s robes, her voice muffled to the extreme.

‘Sorry,’ Tonks said, letting go of her and getting back in her seat, all the while beaming at her cheerfully. ‘You’ve got some kick, Hermione. I had a bruise on my bottom for weeks.’

‘Well … you wouldn’t get out of the way,’ Hermione replied, smiling.

‘I will next time you raise your leg. Ouch.’

Tonks rubbed her backside exaggeratingly, causing Hermione to start giggling. Many others didn’t suppress their smiles anymore either.

‘Yes,’ Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling in Tonks’s direction, ‘what was … fortunate for you and several other Aurors,’ his eyes rested briefly on Kingsley, ‘however, had a serious downside we were completely unaware of. It took us a very long time before we became aware that Hermione had been taken by Lord Voldemort. It was, in fact, a fortunate circumstance that we planned that Auror raid on Malfoy Manor. Otherwise, Severus might’ve never seen and recognised her. Voldemort went through extreme lengths to keep her isolated from every single one of his followers – no doubt concerned some of them would let it slip she was there to the wrong individual.’

‘You’ve known since then he had her?’ Remus snapped, rising to his feet. ‘That raid was weeks ago!’

In a reflex-like motion, Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm and stopped him from jumping out of his seat in anger, too. She slightly shook her head, telling him to calm down with her eyes. He remained seated, but his expression was still tumultuous. She really hoped Professor Dumbledore would be done with his story quickly. This was becoming beyond horrible.

Dumbledore nodded calmly, ignoring the different signs of outrage in the room. ‘Severus told me. We had no idea what was going on, so I immediately went to check on her parents and they informed me what had happened at the beginning of the vacation.’

‘You should’ve told us,’ Moody said, disgruntled, siding with Remus Lupin, who’d walked to the window briefly and had come back to sit next to Moody, though he was obvious still agitated. Lupin’s face had gone paler, and he seemed slightly sick. Hermione couldn’t help but wonder what time of the month it was.

‘And do what?’ Dumbledore asked seriously. ‘It was obvious that he wanted it to be a secret Hermione was with him. If somehow the knowledge that we knew were to reach him, Hermione’s life could’ve been in grave danger. I couldn’t risk it. Besides, Severus was trying his hardest to find out everything he could in order to get her out of there. That pendant slowed us down though. Severus took great risks, trying out different methods to remove it from her before attempting to get her out. Unfortunately, he got caught doing just that and he was dying when he arrived at Hogwarts with Hermione, not wanting to leave her behind, realising Voldemort now knew that we knew.’

Oh please, Hermione thought blankly, surprised at how easily everyone swallowed that emotional crap since the whole room was now silent – with the exception of Mrs. Weasley, who was sniffing softly and blew her nose next. Holes so big I could drive a lorry through! And … I suddenly lose control, there’s a fire within my soul. … Although that could be because I know the truth, it’s hard to tell.

Still, she could see a ton of issues with that story. If this was going to work, she was going to eat up McGonagall’s hat and take Divination seriously. Yes, she was.

While the emotions were running high, Dumbledore continued swiftly, ‘I stayed on the move with Hermione after that, trying out different wards to block that pendant’s reception and exhausting every possibility to take it off. In the end, I realised she was best off surrounded by her friends, even if that meant–’

Dumbledore flew to his feet, wand in hand. Volkova had done the same thing at her position. At the other side of the table, a blond man, flamboyantly dressed, had appeared silently into room as if he’d materialised out of thin air. The blond ignored the shocked shrieks around him, threw a green bundle of something he had draped over his shoulder through the air carelessly and said cheerfully, ‘I believe you wanted this, Albus?’

Narcissa Malfoy crashed down on the top of the table like a lifeless sack of potatoes.

‘Malfoy!’ Molly shrieked, flying to her feet aggravated.

‘You!’ Moody hollered, pointing his wand at the blond man.

‘Everyone sit!’ Volkova ordered, swooshing her wand behind her back.

A jolt of magic accompanied her words. Both Moody and Molly sat down abruptly. Moody even lowered his wand. Hermione frowned. She felt the overwhelming need to stay seated, even though she recognised that it was magically enforced and her mind wasn’t otherwise clouded. The only ones still standing after that magical command were Dumbledore and the blond man.

‘What for Merlin did you do to her?’ Albus asked, checking out Narcissa.

Fred snorted upon noticing the bruises, and he leaned to his twin brother, whispering something in his ear that made George’s face glow in wicked delight. Hermione glanced sideways suspiciously when she saw George pull some satchel from his back pocket and handle its contents behind his back.

Oh boy … should I say something?

Hermione’s eyes fell on the unconscious Malfoy’s snotty face.

Nah.

Her eyes fell on Harry, who grinned at her, having also noticed the twins’ suspicious moves. Everyone else was watching the newcomer or Narcissa Malfoy, so George flicked his wrist unseen. He and Fred shared a satisfied glance afterwards and leaned back in their chairs, innocently.

‘Well, she was being difficult,’ the blond man explained, pointing to Narcissa. ‘Didn’t like that I blew up their mansion for some reason.’ He shrugged. ‘Eh, there were a lot of them and only one, little, old me.’ He stretched out his arm and watched his fingernails in fake interest. ‘But they’re stupid, and I am goooood.’ He grinned. ‘Great actually.’

Where have I heard that voice before?

Suddenly, Dumbledore whipped his wand through the air. Several jets of purple charged to everyone in the room. Hermione’s eyes widened when it was an inch away from her body. Suddenly, she felt it: a giant shift in polarity. It made the hairs on the back of her arm stand up. Her curls turned static when Dumbledore’s charm stopped in front of her. It stopped in front of Volkova and the blond man, too, yet smashed into everyone else, knocking them out cold. He flexed his magic again and the three purple jets frozen in mid-air disappeared.

Hermione’s jaw dropped. She waved with her hand through the air in front of her, utterly shocked. This was impossible. McMullen was wrong. It was impossible. You couldn’t shift the polarity of your magic like that. It took too much power. She’d done the math. It took ten times the power of the individual who’d cast the charm to undo it. Nobody could achieve an amplification of their magic by tenfold. Two was the best you could hope for. This was impossible. McMullen was wrong. Wrong.

Yet, she’d just seen it happen.

Oh crap, my entire essay is bogus.

‘Gellert,’ Dumbledore said, glaring across the room to the blond who held his wand loosely by his side.

Gellert, as in Grindelwald, that scruffy-looking old bloke who cursed me? ‘Whoa, you clean up nicely,’ Hermione blurted out.

Grindelwald beamed at her. ‘Why, thank you, Miss Granger,’ he said, striking an overly effeminate, triumphant pose. ‘It’s nicesomeone,’ he looked at Albus meaningfully, ‘appreciates my efforts.’

‘You can’t just barge in here on a whim,’ Albus said, ignoring his teasing remarks.

‘Oh goody, did I interrupt something important?’ Grindelwald replied, smirking uncaringly at all the frozen people. ‘I’m soooo sorry.’

‘We already had a situation before you worsened it,’ Volkova said, tight-lipped. Her hand clutched to her wand, hard. It was obvious she was dying to curse the wizard into oblivion, having not forgotten about their previous encounter. ‘This is the kind of situation Nebi is for. You’re putting the Council at jeopardy of exposure by ignoring the rules.’

‘Council, smouncil,’ Gellert said dismissively. ‘There are two of you here. Surely, you can handle it.’

‘We shouldn’t have to handle it,’ Volkova sneered, moving her wandarm slightly to the side in a more offensive stance. She nodded to the unconscious Malfoy on the table. ‘Why the change of heart?’

Gellert glanced at her wand somewhat apprehensively. ‘Well … I figured if he’s poaching on my woman, I can nick one of his.’

Dumbledore frowned. ‘What’re you talking about?’

‘Aloysia,’ Gellert said softly. He sighed and looked at Dumbledore seriously. ‘She joined forces with him.’

It was like a thousand thoughts and emotions flew across Dumbledore’s face in a single heartbeat. Still, the most poignant feeling Hermione got was alarm, genuine alarm at this news. Even Grindelwald looked grave for a moment. Who was this Aloysia?

‘Aloysia knows, right?’ Dumbledore inquired sharply.

Knows what?

‘Yes.’

The two men stared at each other in mutual comprehension. Hermione’s pupils flickered between them in confusion.

‘Sorry,’ Gellert added timidly before Apparating away abruptly.

Sorry?

‘Now what?’ Ljudmila said, waving with her hand at the situation annoyed. ‘They all saw him and her. Mr. Moody even recognised him, despite his Juvenility Beautification Charms.’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘Irresponsible arse, leaving us with this mess. And we can’t do a mass Obliviate, because well, how do we explain her then?’ She pointed at Malfoy, turned around and kicked the door in aggravation. ‘Unbelievable, unbelievable, you’d think that after more than half a century in Nurmengard he’d have grown up by now.’

It remained silent. Dumbledore was staring into thin air. He seemed tired, the lines on his face somehow deeper, like he aged a hundred years in a blink of an eye. Hermione didn’t like the sign of that at all. What was going on? What was Grindelwald apologising for?

‘So, what do you suggest we do, Albus?’ Ljudmila asked. ‘Albus!’

‘Uh, oh, sorry, got distracted. Mmm … yes, well …’ He looked at Narcissa and plucked on his beard thoughtfully. ‘I suppose … you could take her to Draco in the cottage, while I’ll do a mass Obliviate here of their arrival.’

Volkova tilted her head, pensively. ‘That’ll work,’ she said, nodding slowly.

‘Try to get back fast,’ Dumbledore added quietly. ‘We need to finish this meeting.’

‘I will,’ Ljudmila replied, grabbing a hold of Narcissa and Disapparating immediately.

Dumbledore swiftly moved around the room, Obliviating everyone of the knowledge of Gellert’s and Narcissa’s arrival. ‘Oh my,’ he muttered when he came to the twins’ mind. ‘Well, let’s hope she doesn’t freak out too much. I’ll solve it later.’

The fact that Dumbledore suddenly spoke out loud reassured Hermione she wouldn’t disturb him if she asked him something.

‘Those spells you stopped in mid-air,’ she said slowly. ‘You used McMullen’s theory for it.’

‘What makes you think that?’ Dumbledore asked lightly, wiping Tonks’ mind.

‘I felt the polarity shift in the air. But it’s impossible. McMullen is rubbish,’ she muttered, disgruntled. ‘I proved it.’

Dumbledore chuckled. ‘McMullen’s theory has one significant flaw.’

‘And that is?’

‘It can only work for one person in the world at the time,’ Dumbledore explained. ‘So, it’s only logical you – as did Tom before you – came to the conclusion McMullen wrote nonsense.’

‘Why can it only work for one person? And why is that person you?’ Hermione asked really fast. Then, she realised what she’d said and added, ‘No offence meant.’

‘None taken,’ Dumbledore said casually. He sighed and turned to her seriously. ‘I wish I was allowed to explain it to you, Hermione. But as Ljudmila said at an earlier meeting, I am not your guide. Tom passed this assignment with an essay stating McMullen was a moron. I’m sure it won’t hinder your chances either if you keep that position, too. After all, it’s correct for the rest of the world.’

‘But if I say McMullen’s Theory of Everything is rubbish, I’d like to be completely right,’ Hermione objected.

Dumbledore smiled. ‘I’ve noticed, Miss Granger, that the more one learns, the less one knows.’

So not helpful.

He stopped at Remus Lupin’s body and flashed his wand in the familiar Memory Charm movements.

‘Why was Gellert Grindelwald sorry?’

Dumbledore froze. He turned his head sideways and watched her gravely. ‘It’s best if you don’t get caught in this, Hermione. You’ve got enough on your plate already.’ His wand flashed one last time to remove Moody’s memory of Grindelwald’s arrival.

‘Why don’t you just Obliviate everything, including Voldemort being here, from their minds?’

‘Because it’s not a harmless charm to use,’ Dumbledore explained. ‘The more you wipe, the more chance there is of causing permanent brain damage. Also, if you use the Memory Charm repeatedly on the same individual, its magic can accumulate in the cells and leave lasting marks, too. We’ve seen this effect with Bertha Jorkins due to Crouch’s casting – although no one realised it at the time, because she’d always been such a gossiper and not too bright.’ Dumbledore shook his head sadly. ‘I don’t want to have to witness that happening to any of our people.’

Hermione could understand that. She was about to ask another question when Ljudmila Volkova apparated back in. Hermione snapped her mouth shut in disappointment. Dumbledore had never been so talkative to her before, unless it was about his feelings on Divination.

‘I’ve got her there and put her in one of the beds. Draco was very happy to see her,’ Volkova said. ‘I warned him not to wake her until you got there. Made up some silly excuse of her needing some healing done.’

‘She will,’ Dumbledore muttered, glancing in the direction of the twins.

‘What?’

‘Nothing. Let’s retake our previous positions, shall we?’

Volkova quickly retook her stance at the door and Dumbledore sat down. Hermione hadn’t left her chair, so she was fine.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ Dumbledore said, whirling his wand above his head to wake everyone.

---

After the meeting, Hermione had needed to go to the loo desperately. As she walked past Kingsley, the Auror briefly took a hold of her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. ‘We’ll find a way, Miss Granger,’ he told her.

‘That would be nice,’ she replied, smiling weakly at him.

Dumbledore had created enough chaos in his story to blur everyone’s senses. Hermione still felt there were gaping holes in his story and that it would’ve been better to just do a complete mass Obliviate of everything Council related. Yet for some reason, Dumbledore insisted to keep the rest of the Order’s knowledge about her connection to Lord Voldemort intact. She felt it was highly counterproductive. It wasn’t like he made a habit of dropping in.

She opened the door and entered the bathroom on the third floor. Moody had needed to go, too, and she had let him visit the ground floor toilet.

Unless … Professor Dumbledore expected Voldemort to be back and wanted people to be prepared for that occasion?

Hermione groaned and buried her head in her hands, while she sat on the toilet seat. Considering he left her so to speak “in heat” she doubted very much he’d be back any time soon. No, he was bound to rub it in. Make her suffer. Merlin, she really needed a good shag. This was a nightmare. An absolute nightmare. In more ways than one.

For instance, Ron was still avoiding her gaze. Why hadn’t he joined her and Harry? What was wrong with him? Didn’t he trust her? Didn’t he know her by now? Ugh.

Hermione didn’t know what to think anymore. She washed her hands and dreaded going out the bathroom. She didn’t feel like going downstairs. People were acting ridiculous now this news was out. Remus Lupin had suddenly turned from watching her suspiciously to an overgrown watchdog. As if she could fall apart any minute and he needed to be there to reassemble the pieces. The grateful glances he kept sending her way befuddled her completely. She’d done nothing to make him grateful. Nothing.

Moody kept glaring at her necklace as if the pendant could burst into the flames of hell any minute. Tonks was trying to assist her by spilling coffee all over her shirt, and then, destroying said shirt by botching up on her Cleansing Charm. Molly was sending her pitiful glances, and she was certain that Fred and George were plotting to do something dastardly to her behind her back to “cheer” her up. She’d seen the telltale signs in their demeanour. Harry was the only one acting normally.

Sighing, she grabbed the door and opened it. She couldn’t really barricade herself in here, anyway.

On her way down, at the second floor corridor, she suddenly heard hushed voices arguing. It came from the twins’ room. Recalling that she was certain they were planning to do something, Hermione tiptoed to the door to eavesdrop. But it wasn’t them. Harry and Ron were arguing relentlessly.

‘You’re being ridiculous,’ Harry hissed.

‘Oh, of course I am ridiculous,’ Ron said with emphasis. ‘Those books …’

‘It’s Hermione. Naturally, she’d have books, Ron.’

‘Who do you think she learned those curses from? She couldn’t do them before the holiday.’

‘So …?’ Harry replied, sounding disinterested.

‘So, so?’ Ron repeated, aggravated. ‘If You-Know-Who taught her …’

‘Then, he’s going to be pissy that she’s relaying his teachings to me,’ Harry replied, snorting amused.

‘You find this funny?’

‘No,’ Harry snapped. ‘I don’t find this funny at all. I don’t find it funny that you stayed away from her and didn’t try to help. I don’t find it funny that Lord Voldemort can get to my friend whenever he bloody well pleases. Sometimes things aren’t about you, Ron.’

‘No, it’s never about me,’ Ron snarled.

It turned completely silent in the bedroom, and Hermione held her breath at the door.

Not again. Ron couldn’t seriously be acting like that again. Hadn’t he learned from his behaviour during the Triwizard Tournament? For a second, she wanted to fling the door open and give him a piece of her mind. Then, she realised all his assumptions were based on Professor Dumbledore’s gaping holes story and she refrained, tiptoeing away quietly, feeling thoroughly disappointed in one of her best friends.

‘Oh Godric, you’re jealous,’ Harry said, baffled. ‘You’re actually jealous he picked her. You’d rather he kidnapped and threatened to torture and kill your mother?’

‘I … I …’ Ron stuttered.

The rest, Hermione didn’t hear anymore nor did she fancy hearing it. She made her way down the stairs quickly. Only to hear another set of voices arguing on the first floor landing. The door to Ginny’s room stood slightly ajar, so Hermione caught a glimpse of what was happening.

‘But this is my bedroom,’ Ginny said steadfast.

‘You’re not staying here,’ Mrs. Weasley said abruptly, pulling the covers of her bed. ‘Not when he … he can get in here any minute.’

‘We don’t have any more spare beds,’ Ginny replied, pulling the covers from her mother’s arms, ‘and I don’t want to sleep with you and dad. He snores.’

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. She walked to the door and opened it further, freezing up the argument inside of the room abruptly.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her in shock, her hands filled with bedcovers again. ‘Hermione, I … I didn’t mean …’

‘I know,’ Hermione said reasonably. ‘And I understand your concerns.’

‘I am not afraid,’ Ginny objected.

Hermione smiled at her. ‘You’ve already been through enough with him, Ginny. I … I … couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.’ She turned to Mrs. Weasley who’d regained her composure. ‘I can sleep on the couch in the sitting room. Ginny can stay here.’

‘That couch is horrific to sleep on, my dear,’ Mrs. Weasley said softly. ‘I really can’t let you make such a sacrifice. You’ll destroy your back.’

‘Ginevra can have my bed in Bill’s room,’ Fleur chimed in, darting past Hermione. ‘I can sleep ’ere with ’Ermione.’ Fleur caught a hold of the covers in Mrs. Weasley’s arms.

‘Er ... if it’s not too much of a problem?’ Mrs. Weasley asked, letting go of the covers suspiciously easy.

‘No problem at all,’ Fleur replied cheerfully. ‘Anything to help.’ She placed the covers back on the bed and whipped her wand at them. ‘Scourgify!’

‘Oh, okay then,’ Mrs. Weasley said quickly, as if she was worried Fleur Delacour might come to her senses and rescind the offer. ‘Go get your belongings to Bill’s room, then, Ginny.’

Ginny sent Hermione an apologetic smile as she moved her stuff out together with her mother.

‘Thank you,’ Hermione said gratefully to Fleur’s back when they were alone.

‘No need,’ Fleur said, summoning an extra blanket. ‘It’s fine. Bill’s mother ees a beet …’

‘Yeah,’ Hermione acknowledged, realising the soon-to-be daughter-in-law was a lot more perceptive than she’d given her credit for. Fleur had noticed she wasn’t particularly welcome in the Burrow. Perhaps that’s why she kept trying so hard to help all the time? ‘Well, thank you anyway,’ Hermione said a lot kinder. ‘I’ll see you later.’

Hermione quickly left the room and moved downstairs. She needed a breather. Only the kitchen was still filled with concerned, babbling Order Members, so she quickly escaped into the gardens to be alone at the first opportune moment. It wasn’t much later that Harry sat down on the ground next to her, leaning against the Burrow’s wall like her.

‘Trying to find some peace?’ he asked.

She nodded.

‘I should probably thank you,’ he grinned

‘Uh?’ she said, watching him dumbfounded.

‘Yeah, now you are the scary one to be around,’ he teased.

Hermione snorted.

After a moment of silence, she asked, ‘How do you deal with that kind of behaviour?’

‘Er … badly?’

‘No, seriously, Harry.’

‘Uh, well, I don’t know. I usually try to ignore it.’

‘Does that work?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Great.’

‘Sorry.’

They both looked straight ahead, watching the stars above the horizon in the distance. It was silent between them, yet it was a comfortable silence, Hermione felt. It was hard not to be at ease around Harry.

‘Ron’s not coming?’ she asked tentatively.

‘Er …’ Harry stuttered, searching for words. ‘Maybe later. He’s got to–’

‘I overheard your conversation,’ Hermione said softly.

‘Oh.’

‘He’s being an idiot.’

‘He’ll get around,’ Harry said reassuringly. ‘He just … I don’t know … He just–’

‘–needs some attention, fame, glory?’ she finished sharply.

‘–time,’ Harry corrected.

‘I suppose …’ Hermione conceded after a little while.

It turned silent once more between them. The background noises coming from the Burrow were pleasant to her ears, unlike the mosquito that was circling them with an irritating buzz. Hermione swatted her wand at it, making it singe through the air like a shooting star.

‘That was you I saw, wasn’t it?’ Harry asked carefully.

Hermione bit her lip and looked at him.

‘I know, I know. You can’t talk about it. I heard what Professor Dumbledore said.’ Harry paused. ‘It’s just … well, it explains the windows thing. I thought I was going insane or something. I knew I felt that same power around Voldemort before. I just couldn’t understand why Dumbledore would lie about it. But he had to. He couldn’t explain to everyone it was you.’

‘I didn’t mean to break the windows or hurt anyone,’ Hermione said apologetically. ‘It … it just happened.’

‘Nobody got hurt by what you did,’ Harry said, looking at her reassuringly.

‘Someone could have,’ she retorted, looking ahead dimly.

‘He’s not going to back down just because we know now, Hermione,’ Harry said warningly. ‘He might’ve wanted to force you to spy on us at first, as Dumbledore said, but he’s not going to give up now that he realised how much power you have. He liked it too much.’

‘I heard you before,’ she replied evenly. All his for the taking, I haven’t forgotten.

‘He’s going to want you at his side.’

Hermione snorted. ‘I’m a Mudblood.’

Harry shrugged. ‘Still …’

‘You’re being delusional now, Harry,’ she chided.

‘I don’t think I am. You should be careful.’

‘Gee, you’d think?’ she joked.

They shared a glance and started laughing out loud. Soon, they had to clutch to their bellies from the painful cramps that occurred.

‘Er … hi … er …’

Harry and Hermione looked up and turned silent. Ron stood there, shuffling uncomfortably on his feet – his ears red.

‘Can I … you know?’ he gestured to the ground next to them.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and then, smiled.

‘Sit down, you moron,’ she said, patting on the ground next to her.

Relieved, Ron slouched down against the wall, crossing his long legs in front of him. The three of them stayed there, chatting for a long time, until Molly Weasley called them indoors and told them they had to go to bed, because they had to get up early in the morning to go to Diagon Alley.

---

Yaxley ran.

He’d never run this hard in his life, but the alarms had gone off and it was only a matter of minutes before Aurors would arrive in the Department of Mysteries. Even though he worked there and had a viable reason for being in so late, if he was found there, he’d be held for questioning. Questions, that he couldn’t, wouldn’t answer. Not even if they found the document in his pocket – the genuine document.

He stumbled into the circular room, limping. Swiftly, he whisked his wand at one of the doors. The wall started rotating.

That damn man. If only Margoon had seen to reason, he wouldn’t have had to kill him over the seal. Stupid, insipid moron. How come such a pitiable creature that never dared to leave the bowels of the Ministry or interacted with other human beings for that matter was capable of resisting his Imperius Curse?

Still, he got the seal on the document in question after the man’s death before fleeing the scene. The only problem being he hadn’t had time to lock away Granger’s forged genealogy papers in the registry and there was blood all over them now.

The Dark Lord is going to kill me.

Yaxley groaned.

Maybe he should let himself get caught? It might be better for his health. Then again, it was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord took over and he’d be in an even bigger mess if he’d had to face him then. No, he had to run. Had to hide. Had to prevent getting caught with the real document. It was unfortunate it was impossible to destroy this magically protected parchment. Otherwise, he’d have burned it into oblivion with some Fiendfyre.

The door of his destination clicked and wouldn’t open. Nervously, he tapped with his wand and spoke the password.

The wall started revolving again, faster and faster.

‘Hurry,’ Yaxley said, tapping with his wand against his leg, watching the entrance door speed by in anxiety. ‘Come on, come on.’

Suddenly, the rotation stopped again. He pushed open the door in question and practical fell into a completely pitch-black area, disappearing from sight instantaneously.

Safe at last, they’ll never find me here, was his last thought before the door closed behind him.

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The Apprentice