Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Moments in Love	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 175861 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 14
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All rights belong to Rowling. Nor do I make any money from the story.

Chapter List
- 57
- 58
- 59
Captive Innocence

Sunday was a lazy day for Harry and Hermione and their friends as Dora and Fleur had both insisted that everyone needed more time to recuperate from their ordeal. Daphne really couldn’t disagree. She had woken up in the wee hours of the morning, plagued by nightmares of blood dripping from her hands as she stood over Draco’s horribly mutilated corpse with a knife.
And as she had fallen asleep in the parlour with the others, they had all woken as well, taking it upon themselves to comfort her. Dobby had been more than happy to provide them all with steaming cups of hot cocoa, and eventually they had all drifted off again. Daphne fell into a deep slumber, comforted by Jennifer’s warm embrace.
Hermione was the first to stir in the morning, pleased to see the sun streaming through the window - unimpeded by clouds - for the first time in weeks. It was well up, indicating that it was quite late in the morning. She sighed contentedly, snuggled as she was on the sofa in the safety of Harry’s arms, listening to Crookshanks purring who was sprawled across her and Harry’s laps.
Hedwig uttered a gentle hoot and Harry began to rouse as well, yawning and feeling more than a bit out of sorts, remembering that he and Hermione were now fugitives. Feeling Harry tensing up, Hermione shifted to face him, giving him a wan smile before planting a wet kiss on his lips.
It wasn’t long before everyone stirred awake, peering at each other blearily and yawning, all looking very much like they wouldn’t mind going back to sleep. Luna woke up feeling very glum, remembering that Ginny was still at Hogwarts; Luna was glad enough to be cuddled up on a settee with Parvati, but Parvati wasn’t Ginny.
Harry stood up and stretched his aching body; he felt a bit better after the kiss but his agitation wasn't so easily dispelled. The visit to Diagon Alley and the Wiz-Vision programming had really brought it home how bad things were getting.
It wasn’t just about an “investigation” at Hogwarts anymore - Wizarding Britain was now completely under the thumb of Minister Umbridge and the Purebloods who had once upon a time been supporters of Voldemort. Harry instinctively knew that it was only a matter of time before they began rounding up the muggleborn everywhere... if they hadn’t already been at it surreptitiously for some time now.
Hermione frowned, knowing that the brooding look on Harry’s face indicated that he was still unsettled despite the kiss. There was one thing that she knew would relax him even more.
“Harry,” she said gently, “I know it’s a bit late in the morning, but there’s really no need for us to get up properly yet. We could go upstairs and have a bit more of a lie in after a shower and some breakfast...”
“I dunno,” Harry muttered. “Everything’s going to pot and I have to do something Hermione...”
“No you don’t!” said Dora firmly. “Not today anyway. We all still need some time to recover and process things - Daphne certainly does...” Seeing that Harry looked like he was about to interrupt and say that he was fine, Dora quickly pressed on before he had a chance. “And I know you Harry. Despite what you think, you’re still in as much shock and as exhausted as anyone else...”
“Dora ees correct!” Fleur chimed in. “If we ‘ad all not been prepared, you and Hermione and Parvati and Jennifer might still be languishing in a cell at ‘Ogwarts - or worse,” she said darkly.
“Anyway, we oughta give things a few days - find out what Dumbledore’s planning,” Dora added.
Harry opened and shut his mouth, deflating. He knew he was fighting a losing battle. And when it came right down to it - even though he couldn’t bring himself to admit it out loud - recent weeks at Hogwarts, the eventful Friday, and the chilling effects of coming across the Wanted posters yesterday had all taken an emotional toll on him. And Hermione must be feeling even worse, he surmised when he looked into her anxious brown eyes.
“Yeah... okay,” Harry sighed. “I suppose I could use some time off from things. Alright Hermione, breakfast it is, then back to bed for a bit.” Hermione beamed, looking relieved.
Dobby bustled around the kitchen, and soon they were all digging into their favourite morning dishes - Fleur with her croissants, fruit, and coffee, and the rest munching on a proper English fry-up of a breakfast with piles of bacon, juicy bangers, fried tomato, baked beans, chips, every variety of eggs that one could think of, crumpets, toast, a pot of tea and orange juice.
Hermione was dipping her buttery crumpet into the runny yolk of her fried eggs, frowning pensively as she watched Dobby who was thoroughly pleased to be eating at the table with everyone.
“Dobby, whatever happened with Winky?” Hermione asked. “She must be miserable at Hogwarts without you to keep her company.”
“Oh! No Mistress Hermione,” Dobby squeaked. “Winky is being much happier now. She is looking after her Master again. Master Crouch is at home after being in hospital for sad people who is drinking too much. He takes Winky back and is being much nicer.”
“That’s wonderful Dobby!” Hermione beamed, squashing her discomfort with House-Elf slavery. She was just happy that Winky was feeling better.
Harry was cheered at hearing a bit of good news, despite his own mixed feelings. “Yeah! That’s great Dobby. Tell Winky we’re both really happy for her when you see her again.”
“Yes sir, Master Harry sir,” said Dobby happily. “Winky is being pleased to hear that Mr and Mrs Potter thinks of her.”
After breakfast, true to his word, Harry meekly followed Hermione upstairs wondering if “lie-in” was a euphemism for something else. He grinned when Hermione dispensed with a nightie after a quick shower and clambered into bed.
When Luna returned to her own room, she rummaged through her bag and found her mirror, wondering if Ginny still had hers. She lay on her bed and frowned when Ginny didn’t answer, but continued to peer into the mirror, holding out hope that eventually Ginny would reply.
Jennifer bit her lip pensively as she cuddled Daphne in their own bed, trying to think of something to distract her or cheer her up. One thing in particular occurred to Jennifer, but she and Daphne had never got beyond a bit of snogging. And frankly, Jennifer herself was anxious about taking the next step, not sure if she could handle it yet, and also afraid that Daphne might say no. She sighed and stroked Daphne’s hair, settling for just holding her close.
Daphne lay quietly with Jennifer’s arm curled around her waist and felt her shifting, pressed against her back with nothing but a thin piece of fabric between her and the other girl. Remembering how the kiss that Jennifer had given her the night before after the evening news had made her feel, Daphne couldn’t help shivering slightly at the tingles of arousal coursing through her.
She hadn’t diddled herself in months, feeling too embarrassed to with Jennifer sharing the same quarters with her - and more often than not, the same bed. Daphne was still uncertain as to why she felt just as nice with Jennifer as she had imagined she would with a boy. Though she had to admit, there was something about Jennifer which reminded her a bit of Harry.
Maybe her black hair? Or perhaps her hazel-green eyes, which seemed to look much more green than brown? But there was something else - something almost ineffable - something inside Jennifer, a certain boldness of spirit perhaps. Daphne was far beyond feeling shy about snogging Jennifer now, and was wondering what it might be like to go a bit further.
Daphne was a bit scared and bashful to ask Jennifer. What if she said no? What if Jennifer freaked out because of what that creepy wizard - Wormtail - had done to her? But the more Daphne thought about it as the minutes ticked by and she felt Jennifer’s presence, felt Jennifer's warm body next to her own and hardened nipples against her back, the subtle fruity aroma of Jennifer’s body-wash inflaming her senses, the more Daphne became willing to take the risk.
“Er... Jennifer,” Daphne began tentatively, trying her hardest to sound as if she was just curious, “Have you ever... erm... you know...done it with anyone before - boy or girl? Before... er... you know... what that horrible wizard did to you?”
Jennifer’s heart did a little flip and her breathing quickened. Was Daphne really asking what Jennifer thought she was asking... or just being inquisitive?
“Erm... just a bit really,” Jennifer replied. “I sort of let a boy I’d been hanging out with feel me up once - it was nice but we never went any further. Then there was a girl I really liked. We... er... messed around a fair bit and went pretty far. What about you?”
“Oh... er... me?” Daphne said a bit awkwardly, her heart beginning to race. “No! To be honest, I’ve never even really kissed anyoneproperly before you. There was a boy I kissed once when I was in third year, but he was seventeen and when I said I wouln't have sex with him he stopped halfway through the kiss and got a bit shirty with me... Then there was one other boy who kissed me, but it was really uncomfortable - I wasn’t into him. And Draco doesn’t really count because he forced himself on me...”
Daphne trailed off, not sure how to progress the conversation without seeming too forward, but absentmindedly, her fingers brushed against the back of Jennifer’s hand - the hand attached to the arm around her waist - as if to take it and guide it to a more sensitive region. Jennifer’s hand involuntarily twitched and Daphne quickly pulled her own hand away.
“I’m sorry,” Daphne squeaked, “I didn’t mean to...”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jennifer murmured, her lips touching Daphne’s golden hair, just behind her ear. “I’m honestly not sure how far I’m up to going myself, but I expect you’ve been depriving yourself... because of me. I could at least make it up to you... if you’ll let me...”
Daphne could feel Jennifer’s hand gently caressing her lower belly now, through the silky fabric of her sheer slip, stroking in little circles. She let out a little gasp, suddenly feeling an intoxicating surge of pleasure, thinking how nice it would feel directly against her bare skin.
“Al...alright,” Daphne panted, “I think... I think I’d like that...”
Jennifer kissed Daphne’s ear, trailing her kisses to Daphne’s neck as her hand pushed Daphne’s slip above her navel. Then her hand slid down the bare skin of Daphne’s lower abdomen, reaching further southward, drawing ever nearer to Daphne’s knickers. Another swell of euphoria came over Daphne as she trembled at Jennifer’s touch.
Jennifer’s fingers slipped under the waistband of Daphne’s knickers, stroking the downy trimmed patch on her mound. Daphne bit her lip and let out a little moan. Finally Jennifer’s fingers reached Daphne’s heated entrance, slipping between her dampening folds, rubbing gently, two of them pressing forth and entering Daphne’s clenching sheath as her thumb toggled Daphne’s fleshy pearl.
Daphne’s head swam, the room spinning as she climaxed for the first time at another’s touch. Somehow it felt even better than fingering herself. Jennifer heard Daphne’s squeaks and felt her shudder ecstatically, but she didn’t stop... Her fingers plunged deeper, again and again in rapid succession as her thumb continued to flick and rotate Daphne’s little button.
Daphne had never imagined feeling so good; her hips tilted, moving rhythmically to meet Jennifer’s thrusting digits as another tidal wave of bliss swept her away. Daphne lost herself to the cascading transports of delight and fell into oblivion.
The fog of ecstasy began to lift as Daphne came to, finding herself now facing Jennifer who was planting little kisses on her cheeks and lips, wrapping both arms around her, one hand behind Daphne’s head and the other pressing into the small of her back and sliding down under her knickers to cradle her bottom.
Jennifer grinned when she saw Daphne returning to her senses. “So... did you like that then?” she asked.
Daphne fluttered her eyelashes and nodded, shyly grinning back.
“Very much!” she replied. “That was the best... I’ve never... that felt great!” Daphne sighed happily, doubting that any nightmares would penetrate her shield of joy when night fell once more. “I love you Jennifer,” she murmured as they both began to drift off.
It was mid-afternoon by the time everyone had finished their naps, and they spent the rest of Sunday lounging in the parlour watching television or reading and listening to music. Luna was particularly happy when Ginny finally returned her mirror-call and assured her that all was as well as could be, all things considered.

~o0o~
As Andrea Mason came to, everything was black and she groggily realised that her hands were cuffed to the arms of a metal chair. Whoever had taken her, they must have drugged her. Suddenly the sack covering her head was yanked off and she blinked, blinded by a bright light. She couldn’t quite make out the figures surrounding her.
“Where’s the disk?” growled one of her captors. “The one you were going to give to the reporter!”
“You can’t do this to me,” she gasped. Now she was absolutely certain that either an MI5 or MI6 special operations unit had her. “You can’t hold me illegally...”
“I’d say we can. This is by order of the Prime Minister himself,” said another voice in more measured tones. “And if you don’t give us the location of the disk, we shall do much more than detain you. I believe you have already been informed that we have your daughter...”
Andrea heard a rustling sound and her blood ran cold when she heard the scream that followed.
“Mummy!” a little girl wailed. “Why are they doing this to us? ...”
“Al...Alright,” Andrea pleaded, “I'll tell you where it is - just don't hurt my daughter. Let her go... please!”

~o0o~
Senior Undersecretary Percy Weasley arrived at the Ministry early Monday morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to start the day. He grabbed a cup of tea and a newspaper at the concession stand in the atrium before making his way to the Minister’s office.
“Good Morning Margaret,” he said to the Minister’s secretary, a bespectacled curly haired witch.
“Mornin’ sir. The Minister’s already waiting for you in her office.”
Percy nodded curtly and pushed open the Minister’s door. He felt a growing sense of trepidation, not at seeing the Minister - he was always delighted to spend time in her company - but at what he knew he would have to do today.
“Good Morning Minister...” he began.
“Percy dear,” said the Minister sweetly, interrupting him. “Please, no formalities are necessary between us - Dolores is quite alright. We are friends after all.”
“Er... Yes, of course Min... Dolores...” Despite the initial sense of awkwardness, Percy felt a warm glow swelling within. He was slightly giddy when Dolores addressed him again.
“Are you sure you’re up to the task, Percy dear? I can still assign Rookwood if you’d prefer...”
“No... No, you’re quite right Minister.” Percy shook his head. “It probably is better coming from me. We should give him a chance to avoid any unnecessary unpleasantries. I’m sure he’ll talk given the right motivation.”
“Very good,” said the Minister, nodding. “I wish you the best of luck then.”
Fifteen minutes later, Percy found himself in the secret detention wing of the Department of Mysteries, staring at the door of the interrogation chamber. He took a deep breath to steady himself, hoping that sitting in a cell all weekend would have made his father open to reason.
Percy really didn’t want to do this, but his father had left him no choice. Percy’s father had always been one of Dumbledore’s staunchest supporters, and it was long past time for him to see the error of his ways. Percy had agreed with the Minister that his father might be more inclined to be cooperative with him than with any of the Unspeakable Interrogators.
Finally feeling ready, Percy gave the heavy iron door to the chamber a push and it swung open with a groaning sound. Arthur Weasley coldly regarded his son Percy. Percy loomed over his shackled father and scowled.
“Hello Father. I hope that this little time-out has brought you to your senses.” When his father didn’t respond, Percy sighed and had another go.
“Please don’t make this harder than it has to be. I only want what’s best Father... It’s too late for Fred and George, they’ve made their bed. But I don’t want Ginny and Ron to go the same way...”
Arthur Weasley stiffened, but he still said nothing.
“Did you hear about Draco Malfoy? He was killed by Daphne Greengrass, and according to the Minister, Ginny was involved.”
“What? The Malfoy boy is dead? ” Arthur gasped in shock, finally moved to speak to his estranged son. Having been arrested the afternoon of the same day that the Unspeakables had been dispatched to Hogwarts to detain Dumbledore, he had heard no news since then. “Ginny... what’s happened to her? I suppose you've arrested her too have you?”
“No... and she’s alright for the moment,” Percy responded, pleased to have got his father talking. “The Minister won’t be seeking charges against the Greengrass girl - but that’s just politics - and the Minister is willing to let Ginny’s role in the affair go... Thank Goodness!
“But it’s really all down to Potter. Ginny’s head is still full of the Saviour nonsense you and Mum fed us all with. We know it’s really Potter who’s to blame...”
“That’s ridiculous!” spat the elder Weasley. “If Draco Malfoy is dead, then he brought it on himself, and he only has his Death Eater father to blame for bringing him up so poorly!”
“Lucius Malfoy only did what he believed was necessary to counter Dumbledore’s political meddling,” said Percy, his voice rising. “Warlock Malfoy was sick of Dumbledore undermining our wizarding heritage and promoting the dilution of our bloodlines. Yes, Warlock Malfoy acted outside the colour of authority, but the Minister and I know the truth now. We know that Dumbledore has been plotting for years to overthrow the Ministry with an army of muggles...”
“You can’t be serious - talk about filling heads with nonsense!” Arthur snorted. “That’s absolutely preposterous! You don’t seriously believe the swill the Minister has been pushing about muggles stealing wands do you? I thought you were smarter than that!”
“The Unspeakables are still working on that,” Percy admitted. “We don't know how he's doing it, but if anyone could figure out how to teach muggles to use magic, it’s Dumbledore. The man is a genius - a mad twisted genius, true - but brilliant nonetheless!
“We know that Dumbledore invented some sort of weapon which destroys dark creatures. You were at Hogwarts when Potter used it to wipe out thousands of Voldemort’s Inferi and a swarm of his Dementors - not to mention killing and injuring a horde of Giants and Mountain Trolls. We’re hoping you can tell us about that...”
“Honestly Percy, I have absolutely no idea how Harry Potter managed that.” Arthur peered at his son as if he were a three headed cat. “Dumbledore never told a single one of us how that was accomplished. I admit that the man does play some things close to the vest... but Dumbledore’s only goal has ever been the preservation of life and justice for all... wizards and muggles alike!”
“That’s not entirely true father,” Percy interrupted. “Did you know that before they had a falling out, that the Great Protector of the Muggleborn was once Gellert Grindelwald’s best friend?”
Percy noted the look of stunned disbelief on his father’s face with satisfaction and continued.
“That’s right... Dumbledore never cared a whit about muggleborn. It was all part of his grand conspiracy to take over the Ministry...”
“That’s utter nonsense! If it were true, then Dumbledore would have accepted the post of Minister when it was offered him after Voldemort fell the first time around!” Arthur snapped. “Open your eyes Percy! These are all lies! I raised you to be better than this.”
Percy sighed and shook his head, seeing that he wasn’t getting through to his father.
“You’ll say anything to protect Dumbledore and Potter, won’t you?” Percy snarled as pulled his wand from his robes. “Well what about your family? What about protecting us - protecting Ginny and Ron?” Percy’s voice rose as his blood began to boil.
“Is that why you never accepted a higher paying position in the Ministry?” Percy bellowed, his face and ears turning purple. “...So that you could waste all your time helping Dumbledore promote his allegedly pro-muggle agenda? To help him pollute our gene pool and spit upon our culture?
“So that you could perform Secret Experiments on muggle artifacts at Dumbledore's behest? You’re just as obsessed as he is with destroying the fabric of our society, and YOU had something to do with creating that Secret Weapon of his - I KNOW IT!”
“Come on, just admit it!” Percy growled, raising his wand. “Don’t make me do this...”
The blood drained from Arthur Weasley’s face when he realised to what lengths his son was willing to go. He swallowed, wondering how he had managed to fail Percy so utterly.
“Percy, please... think about what you’re doing...” Arthur began, trying to reason with his son. “You don’t have to do this...”
“I am truly sorry that it has come to this... Father,” sneered Percy, bitter tears stinging his eyes as he pointed his wand at Arthur. “Believe me, I’d much rather not have to do this - but the Minister’s other methods of interrogation are far more damaging and potentially lethal. And despite everything between us, I would rather not see you injured - you are still family after all.
“I was hoping that you’d see reason... It would be to the Greater Good and to your own good - to our Family’s good - if you would simply renounce Dumbledore and Potter... Tell us where they are and everything you know about the Secret Weapon...”
“Never! I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you or the Minister!” Arthur looked at his son imploringly. “Percy, you have to know that the Minister is manipulating you - filling you with lies - she is as evil as Voldemort ever was...”
Percy peered at his father incredulously.
“Evil? ...Seriously? Let me tell you what Evil is - Father... Evil is perverting and denying our wizarding heritage with your unhealthy obsession for muggles and your misguided loyalty to Dumbledore. Evil is taking that obsession to such a degree that you have put our family name to shame and ruined our family financially...
“Did you know that due to your obsessions, our family’s social and political blood-status has been downgraded to ‘Questionable?’ ... Did you know that because of you, our name is a laughingstock? ... But you don’t care, do you father? You don’t care that you’ve betrayed me - betrayed us all - your family... your Blood!
“This is going to hurt me as much as it hurts you! Percy shouted as his bitter tears began falling. “I’ll give you one more opportunity Father - it’s not too late to stand up for what’s right. Tell us where Dumbledore and the Potters are - give up the Secret Weapon!”
“Percy, please...” Arthur beseeched. “Wake up before it’s too late...”
The red arc of the Cruciatus Curse erupted from the tip of Percy Weasley’s wand, and the screams of his father echoed throughout the secret detention chambers in the Department of Mysteries.

~o0o~
“I’m sorry Dolores... he won’t talk!” Percy said dejectedly as he slumped in the seat before the Minister's desk. “I was so sure I could make him see reason... see how much he’s hurting the family...”
“There, there dear,” Dolores said soothingly as she patted Percy’s hand. She poured him a steaming cup of chamomile tea. “Never mind Percy - you did your best. And despite his recalcitrance, I have no wish to cause your father any great injury - he is still your family after all. I have a much better idea for achieving our goals...”

~o0o~
The next few days passed busily at Number Twelve for the Potters and their friends as they spent a bit of time working out a schedule to keep up with their schoolwork and continue their training. They managed to clear out one of the rooms in the basement, jamming everything except for a few statues into the other basement-room.
When it had been cleared, they strengthened the walls, floor, and ceiling, with every silencing and fortification Charm and Rune sequence that they could find in their schoolbooks and in the books in Number Twelve’s library.
It was no Room of Requirement, but by the time they had completed the task, it was adequate enough to stand up to combat spells without causing problems for their neighbours. Harry and Hermione had just finished testing a bombarda and a repairing spell on the statue upon which they had been practicing when Dora called down the stairs to the basement.
“Harry, Hermione... you two might want to come watch the WVN news yourselves. The Ministry’s supposed to be makin’ some sort of announcement.”
“Thanks Dora, we’ll be right there.”
Moments later, everyone was in the parlour in front of the Wiz-Vision. As with the previous special announcement which they had seen at Hogwarts, William O’Hannity the news-anchor introduced the Minister. But this time the impeccably groomed announcer also introduced somebody else... someone who was all too recognisable - Percy Weasley, looking as stiff as a board.
“Thank you once again for your kind introduction William,” the Minister began warmly in saccharine tones. “As I had previously mentioned I would do, in the Ministry’s bid to keep the public informed, I have returned to update you on current affairs in regards to the investigations at Hogwarts, and into Albus Dumbledore’s dirty dealings at large.”
And as before, the Minister’s voice grew stonier as she continued.
“Now that the initial investigation into the events last Friday at Hogwarts has been completed, I can reveal to you that yes - a student was killed at Hogwarts. Young Draco Malfoy - who had been set to take on the mantle of Warlock following the assassination of his father by Dumbledore’s associate, Severus Snape - was himself assassinated.”
“NO!” gasped O’Hannity. “You don’t say!”
“Yes!” the Minister returned, “And as indicated in the brief Ministry release on Saturday, the evidence points to Mr Potter and his wife. They fled the scene shortly after the commission of the assassination, accompanied by none other than Fred and George Weasley, who had started a riot to cover their escape from Hogwarts.”
“Is there any truth to the rumours that muggleborn students were involved?” asked the slick newscaster.
“Not directly in regards to the assassination of young Mr Malfoy,” the Minister replied, “however, it is true that during the riot, the muggleborn students also fled Hogwarts. We believe that this was due to leaks regarding the Ministry’s next phase of the investigation into the treasonous activities of Albus Dumbledore and the muggleborn revolutionaries.
“As part of our ongoing efforts to secure the future for our ancient heritage, and to maintain Order, the Ministry is announcing the formation of the Muggleborn Registration Commission. All persons of muggle descent - those with no wizarding parentage whatsoever - who purport to be wizards, must register themselves with the Ministry so that we can closely monitor their activities, and also to determine their true magical status... or lack thereof!
“And it was with an eye towards these efforts, that the Ministry had been planning on expelling all muggleborn students from Hogwarts in any case; however, not before such a time as each and every muggleborn student could be registered, and then removed to a more fitting facility.
“Someone - perhaps one of Dumbledore’s spies in the Ministry - must have leaked advance notice at Hogwarts... The flight of the muggleborn from Hogwarts thus represents a minor setback in terms of rounding up for examination these new entrants into our magical society.
“As to our other efforts to uncover the extent of Dumbledore’s conspiracy, a purge has begun within the Ministry. I should preface this next bit to say that my deputy, Senior Undersecretary Percy Weasley, is beyond reproach - he has denounced the actions of his brothers, Fred and George Weasley.”
“It is to be understood that these young men are likely being manipulated by Albus Dumbledore, and if they turn themselves over to authorities, renounce their affiliation with the Potters and Albus Dumbledore, and throw themselves at the mercy of the Ministry, they shall receive a fair hearing, and leniency shall be shown. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the Head of House Weasley - perhaps it would be best if my Senior Undersecretary explained...”
Percy nodded at Minister Umbridge with an icy expression and took up the narrative.
“Thank you Minister, I would be delighted to...” Percy began. “Much to my great distress, my very own father - Ministry Employee, Warlock Arthur Weasley - has been determined to be one of Albus Dumbledore’s spies within the Ministry itself,” Percy said coldly. “My father has been arrested, and awaits trial. He is currently being detained in the Ministry’s holding facilities near the Wizengamot chambers.
“Due to the ongoing investigation, and the purge within the Ministry, the date of his trial has not been set. It is hoped that Warlock Weasley will be cooperative in exposing the rest of Dumbledore’s agents. Until such a time, Warlock Weasley shall remain indefinitely in detention, and be subject to interrogation.
“Now, in regards to the muggleborn insurrection, I urge all muggleborn to present themselves to the Ministry at this time for Registration. Things will go much easier for them, and all who are cooperative shall be treated fairly. However, those who are recalcitrant, and who attempt to avoid registration shall be shown no such leniency...”
Percy narrowed his eyes and his voice hardened as he spoke with even greater vehemence.
“Furthermore, given the violence and lack of regard for civilised behaviour on the part of Dumbledore’s supporters and the insurrectionists, the ban on the employment of Unforgivable Curses has been lifted for Ministry Officials.
“We will use whatever means are necessary to restore Order, and to secure the rights of those with Ancient Blood to move about freely without being subject to violent repression by those of dubious status...” Percy glanced at Dolores “...Minister, do you have anything else to add?”
“Thank you Undersecretary Weasley, I should just like to put some concerns to rest...” Dolores replied, then she turned to speak directly to the viewers in her sweetest, silkiest tones.
“Undoubtedly, the lifting of the ban on the use of Unforgivables is not without some controversy... even among those of the Ancient Houses. However, the majority of the Wizengamot has spoken in concord with the Ministry...
“And we must stress to those among the Ancient Houses who continue to harbour reservations, that this is to the Greater Good in order to preserve our ancient wizarding heritage from dilution and sabotage. I look forward to the cooperation of all... Please remember - the Ministry is here to serve you! Thank you, and good night!”
Harry gaped at the screen as moans and squeals of horror escaped from the others. Hermione gripped Harry’s arm tightly, hissing angrily.
“Bloody Hell!” Dora murmured.
“I can’t believe she actually got the ban lifted!” Parvati fumed.
“The Unforgivables - those are the Death Curse and the Torture Curse, aren’t they!?” Jennifer gasped.
“And the Imperius - the mind-control curse...” said Daphne.
Fleur and Luna sat in stunned silence, horrified expressions on their faces.
“If Percy’s alright with the Unforgivables - anything could happen to Mr Weasley,” Harry said quietly, his face ashen. Hermione glanced at Harry anxiously, sensing his cold fury growing.
“Harry... it’s probably a trap. The Minister - she knows you too well - she’s baiting us...”
“Yeah! I know...!” Harry peered into his wife’s eyes and she nodded.
“Good! Just as long as we’re all clear,” said Hermione. “So what are we going to do to rescue Mr Weasley then?”
“Ahem... Might I offer a suggestion?” said a familiar and vaguely supercilious voice belonging to someone unseen.
Harry, Hermione and the others turned in surprise to peer at the landscape painting on the wall behind the sofa.
“Er... Headmaster Black, what are you doing here?” asked Harry in bewilderment.
“Please, Phineas Nigellus is good enough... there is no need for formalities outside of Hogwarts. And this is one of the homes of my portrait after all! I am free to wander the paintings in any building my portraits reside in...”
“Oh, er... right - of course!” Harry made a mental note to remove any paintings from the bedrooms. “Sorry Headma... Phineas Nigellus!”
“In any case,” the portrait of Sirius’s forebear continued, “that brings me to my point. I have a portrait at the Ministry as well, and I can tell you - Arthur Weasley is NOT in the Ministry’s official holding facility on level ten. I have it on good information from another portrait that Arthur Weasley was last seen being escorted into the Department of Mysteries...”
“So the Minister is baiting a trap for us then!” Hermione stated, quivering in agitation.
“Without question...” Phineas Nigellus affirmed, “however...”
“...you can get us in!” Harry interjected, his heart racing as his adrenaline began to pump. “And Dora and I can slip into the DoM in disguise to find Mr Weasley, and then we can get back out through your portrait.”
“Indeed!” the portrait said dryly. “I just happen to know of a painting very near to the DoM’s secret detention facility and the interrogation chambers. Though, if it is just the two of you, you may be at a disadvantage numerically speaking...”
“We’ll go late at night when there are less people, and Harry and Dora won’t be alone,” Hermione stated in a steely voice.
Harry peered at Hermione anxiously. The last thing he wanted was to get her captured or killed as well, but he recognised her tone of voice as one which would brook no argument. Harry supposed there was always the Disillusionment Charm; he hadn’t really had a chance to practice it yet, but he was certain he could learn it before the day was out.
“Oui, Harry shall have our support...” Fleur added as the others began to raise their own voices.
“I’m going too,” said Luna adamantly.
“Wait... STOP!” said Harry in alarm. “Okay, alright... some of you can come too, but I don’t want to risk all of us in one operation. A smaller team will be able to move faster, and draw less attention anyway....”
“And if we don’t make it back out...” Harry gulped, “whoever’s on the outside can call in the Order for backup if absolutely necessary. But I don’t want to have to get them involved if we don’t have to. It sounds like they’ve got enough to deal with as it is, facing whoever the Ministry is using to round-up muggleborns...”
“Probably the Snatchers and Death Eaters under the auspices of the Unspeakable Office...” Dora muttered. “The Aurors are most likely to continue being used mostly for traditional policing and maintaining order - though obviously they'll also have the power to arrest anyone they suspect of being muggleborn.”
“We need to work out who should take part in the rescue mission then,” said Hermione.
A babble of voices rose again, as nobody wanted to be left out. In the end, it was determined that Parvati would join Harry, Hermione, and Dora, and that Fleur would remain at Number Twelve with Daphne, Luna, and Jennifer.
“But if you’re not back within two hours, we’re coming in after you Harry,” Luna said sternly.
Jennifer and Daphne had equally determined glints in their eyes. Fleur tried her best not to smirk at Harry’s reluctant expression.
“Only if you can get some of the Order to come along as backup too though, alright?” Harry muttered. “And just to make sure, I think I’ll give Lupin and Sirius a heads-up. It’s better if the professors remain at Hogwarts.”
Moments later the Potters were peering at Sirius and Lupin’s faces in Harry’s mirror. After quickly getting the pleasantries out of the way, Harry and Hermione told them the plan.
“I should be there too,” Sirius said eagerly. “Don’t go in till I get there Harry...”
“No, Harry’s right,” Lupin interrupted, “A smaller team has a better chance of getting in and out quickly, Sirius. We’ll only stage a larger assault on the Ministry if it becomes absolutely necessary. I think it’s best if we have Hagrid, Alastor, Kingsley, and John on standby with us. If we all have to come in after you Harry, with your remaining team members, we will.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Sirius grumbled. “Right then, so what’s your timetable Harry?”
“Well, Dora reckons they’ll be expecting us tonight, in the main detention area for prisoners being held for Wizengamot trials,” Harry replied. “That seems likely to me, so we’ll wait till very late tomorrow night, and get into the Department of Mysteries using the portraits...”
“So you really did get out of Hogwarts that way then?” Lupin gasped, sharing a startled look with Sirius.
“I have to admit Harry, Remus and I were a bit skeptical when Minerva and Filius told us that was how you had all escaped,” Sirius confessed in amazement. “Simply ingenious!”
“It’s an unheard of method for long distance travel,” Lupin added. “Historically speaking, that particular portal spell is not well-known, and it is mainly noted for allowing entrance to Secret Treasure chambers... I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it being used for escaping from or breaking into warded buildings before, either.”
“Er... really? ” Harry was a bit surprised to think that he and Hermione might be the first to come up with the idea of using the Pictura Portus spell in that manner.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything!” Sirius gazed at his godson and goddaughter-in-law with a wistful, proud expression.
“I suppose Dumbledore must think of us as a ‘Secret Treasure’ then...” Hermione giggled. “That’s where Harry and I got the idea from to begin with - the painting we access the Unaffiliated Corridor through.”
“Oho... That partly explains the Carrows being unable to locate your ‘House’ in Hogwarts then,” Sirius chortled. “According to Minerva, the Carrows and the Unspeakables have been searching the entire castle to no avail since you left. And none of the professors can seem to find it themselves either, even if they wanted to. Dumbledore must have put an unplottable charm on it as well.”
“Oh!” said Harry, “So that’s why nobody ever noticed us entering or exiting our ‘House’ once the wall went up at the end of our corridor. I always wondered why nobody seemed to see us going in and out through the portrait. But why can we and some of our other friends always find it then?”
“The Unplottable Charm must be keyed to allow only us - and whoever we invite in - to see Aphrodite’s portrait,” Hermione mused, frowning pensively.
“Ah, that makes sense. Anyway...” Harry shifted back to the main topic, “to get back to our plan - we’ll get into the Department of Mysteries tomorrow night at 2:30 AM, and we’ve given ourselves a two hour window to find Mr Weasley’s cell and break him out...”

~o0o~
Harry and Hermione spent the next day preparing themselves with Dora and Parvati. Harry diligently practiced the spell he’d been reading up on, and in the end, Harry managed to learn the Disillusionment Charm much faster than he’d thought he would.
Hermione sat on a stool as Harry tapped the top of her bushy head with his wand. She felt a sensation as if an egg had been broken on her head and was trickling down her body. She gasped when she held up her arm which looked just like the brick wall in front of her. In fact, she couldn’t see her arm at all.
“That’s brilliant Harry!” Hermione beamed, which Harry couldn’t see because for all intents and purposes she was invisible. “I thought I would be like a chameleon... but this is incredible.”
Grinning, Harry tapped Parvati on the head with his wand, and she appeared to vanish as well.
“Cor... that’s amazing!” said Dora. “I coulda put the Disillusionment Charm on them myself if I’d had to - but yours is the best I’ve seen. Seriously Harry... you could put Invisibility Cloaks outta business. How’d’you do that?”
“I dunno really,” said Harry, sounding surprised. “And it was much easier to learn than I thought it would be.”
“It might be that Harry simply has an affinity for that sort of magic,” said Hermione’s disembodied voice proudly. “He’s descended from one of the three Peverell Brothers, the one who made Harry’s Invisibility Cloak to begin with.”
“Wait... are the Peverell Brothers the ones from that story then?” asked Parvati’s voice. “...the Three Brothers story from The Tales of Beedle the Bard I mean?”
“That’s right,” piped up Hermione again. “It turns out that was just a fairy tale version. In reality the Peverell brothers invented the three items themselves.”
“So the other artifacts are real too?” gasped Dora. “Wow! I bet that wand would be somethin’...”
“Oh... er, I expect so,” said the invisible Hermione awkwardly as Harry raised his eyebrows.
“It’d be more trouble than it’s worth really,” Harry said after a pause. “Just look at what happened to the brother in the story. It didn’t end well for him.”
“That’s a good point!” the unseen Parvati agreed.
“Yeah... I suppose that’s right,” Dora said wryly. “Whoever ‘ad it would probably end up as paranoid as Mad Eye... always wonderin’ if someone was gonna murder them in their sleep to steal the wand... I think I like the cloak better!”
“Maybe we should go invisible too then Harry?” Dora mused. Harry thought about it for a moment.
“That’s not a bad idea actually,” he answered. “At least while we’re in the pictures. When we’re in the Department of Mysteries, we should probably be visible though, because we’ll have to interact with Mr Weasley. Do you still have the invisibility cloak Moody gave you?”
“Yeah, I’ve still got it,” Dora nodded. “It’s not as amazing as yours - but it’s never failed me yet.”
“Well, I suppose we’re as ready as we’ll ever be then,” Harry grinned. “I’ll just make Hermione and Parvati visible again until tonight then shall I? Er... hello? Hermione? Parvati...? Are you two still there...?”
Dora clasped her hand to her mouth and invisible giggles could be heard when Harry’s trousers dropped to the floor.
“Oi... what are you doing?” groaned Harry, standing in his boxers and turning beet red, thinking that Fred and George had been a bad influence on Hermione. “If that’s you Hermione, I am so getting you back for this...”
“Oh... you’d better get me back for this Mr Potter,” Hermione’s giggly disembodied voice whispered in his ear.

~o0o~
Phineas Nigellus Black’s portrait hung in the atrium, so it was only after passing through many portraits, paintings and department levels that the invisible team of infiltrators following the once-headmaster of Hogwarts found themselves in a portrait facing a corridor in the Department of Mysteries.
As the Potters and their friends would be exiting and returning the same way, they knew that they couldn’t avoid revealing at least some of themselves to the portrait of Prometheus. Harry and Dora removed their invisibility cloaks, but Hermione and Parvati remained invisible for the sake of convenience.
“Well, my journey ends here,” said Phineas Nigellus after introducing Harry Potter and his invisible wife to Prometheus. “I shall await your return and alert your compatriots should any complications arise.”
“Great! Thanks Phineas. I’m sure we’ll be back soon without any trouble,” said Harry with a confidence that he wasn’t quite sure he felt. But they’d made it this far without rousing any alarm in the Ministry, so he was hopeful that their luck would hold out.
Once again under the cover of their invisibility cloaks, Harry and Dora cautiously led the way through the stone corridors, followed closely by Parvati and Hermione. They tried a number of doors, but none of them housed the detention wing. Instead, the chambers appeared to contain many fascinating artifacts, but none were more interesting than the chamber behind a mysterious locked door.
Dora tried the handle, then muttered “alohomora” under her breath. Still no response.
“This has to be it,” sighed Harry, wondering how they’d manage to get in.
In frustration he tried the handle himself. To everyone’s surprise the door swung open. But the chamber it revealed didn’t contain any cells or Arthur Weasley. In the centre of the cavernous room a vibrant glowing Orb which seemed to pulse as if it were alive hovered in mid-air near an enormous vat of liquid.
Something about the Orb seemed too enticing to simply pass by without closer examination. Hermione felt it too - a siren call of silent song - an invitation to approach. Dora glanced around anxiously and Parvati held her breath when Harry slowly walked into the room as if in a trance, his hand apparently clutching Hermione’s invisible hand.
“We should get a move on,” Dora whispered nervously, but Harry and Hermione didn’t seem to hear.
The Orb’s luminescence pulsed even brighter, throbbing silvery violet, golden red, and blueish white - drawing Harry and Hermione even nearer. They both gasped when they felt it - a shimmering sensation of seraphic ecstasy which sent rippling tingles of static electricity and magic across their skin - its music filling their souls with a sublime joy beyond imagining.
The intensity and tone of the experience was unlike anything they’d felt outside of themselves before - yet eerily familiar. It was the same sensation they felt when practicing their Patronus Charms together in the Room of Requirement. Neither of the Potters wanted to leave the room.
Parvati and Dora both entered the room, alarm setting in, wondering if it were some sort of trap.
“Harry,” Parvati whispered worriedly. “Hermione, come on... please!”
But the Potters still seemed too enraptured to hear. Harry felt someone grasping his arm and suddenly snapped out of it. Hermione squeaked, startled out of her reverie.
“We’ve got to go,” said Dora quietly. “We don’t have time to waste.”
“Sorry...” said Hermione’s disembodied wobbly voice as Dora led her and Harry out of the room. “I... I’m not sure what came over us.”
Harry was still too overcome to speak; Parvati noticed that his face was wet with tears.
“What happened in there? What’s wrong?” she asked, sounding a bit panicked.
“N...nothing’s wrong,” said Harry, finally finding his voice. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re crying,” said Parvati, “and Hermione sounds like she is too.”
“Really?” Harry looked puzzled and touched his face. His eyebrows popped up in surprise when he discovered that his cheeks were wet. “I dunno... I had no idea... Hermione?”
“I don’t know either,” said Hermione, feeling her own face.
Dora’s brows knitted thoughtfully. There was something about the scent of the liquid in the vat which seemed familiar. Suddenly it came to her.
“I can’t be certain,” she said, “but I think that must be a lab where they’re experimenting with love potions. That was a vat of Amortentia.”
“But the Orb,” said Harry. “That wasn’t a potion - it was real!”
“Harry’s right,” Hermione agreed. “That was the real thing... not fake like a potion. It was an of embodiment of love so powerful that it had strong emotional effects on Harry and me. Somehow the wizard scientists must have found a way to trap the energy in some sort of magical force-field.”
“I suppose that makes as much sense as anything,” Dora muttered. “It sure looked like something outta Star Trek...” Dora suddenly halted, bringing up everyone short. “Ssh,” she hissed. “There’s voices up ahead.”

~o0o~
One of the three Unspeakables guarding Arthur Weasley’s cell grumbled, as another shuffled a deck of cards.
“This is a ruddy waste of a good night’s sleep,” he moaned. “It’s impossible to break into the DoM.”
“And besides... nobody even knows about this detention block,” muttered another. “If Potter ever actually bothers to show up, he’ll head for the holding facility near the Wizengamot chambers with the other ‘Arthur Weasley’...”
“Haha... no doubt!” laughed the first Unspeakable. “I’d love to see Potter’s face when the polyjuice wears offa Brookstone.”
“That’s if Potter actually shows - he didn’t last night,” snorted the second. “And if he were actually able to get through more than a dozen of the Ministry’s finest, and if he actually escaped with Brookstone... What a Bloody Joke! A fifteen year old boy and his pet mudblood breaking into the Ministry?”
“You might want to be a bit more cautious,” said the Unspeakable who was still shuffling the cards. “He may just be a kid, but we still can’t figure out how he got out of Hogwarts without anyone seeing...”
“Inside help obviously!” retorted the first Unspeakable. “If I didn’t know you both so well, I’d be worried that one of you is Dumbledore’s mole...”
“Well there you go then!” the card shuffler replied. “How do we even know it’ll be Potter? Maybe Dumbledore or some of his lot will show up... it doesn’t pay to get cocky!”
The first two looked a bit uncomfortable at that.
“Well, even if Dumbledore did show up and got Weasley out, so what?” the second Unspeakable said after a pause. “It doesn’t make much difference in the long run. Everything’s a go now, and the Chief has the Wizengamot locked up in her back pocket.
“...There’s really nothin’ he could do about it beyond starting a real war against the Ministry - a full on civil war at that. He’d look like the actual villainous rebel that the Chief is makin’ him out to be - and he knows it.”
“Yeah...” agreed the first. “And anyway, if the techs did their job right, the whole point is moot - we’d find ‘im in no time. Like I said, watchin’ the real Weasley is a waste of time.”
“Is that so?” said a cold high pitched voice which made all of the Unspeakables jump out of their skins. “Perhaps you’d prefer to have a lot more time on your hands - say, to visit the Ministry’s Unemployment Services Division?”
“N...no Ma’am... Sorry Chief!”
“Really... we didn’t mean anything by it Minister! We... er... weren’t expecting either of you at the Ministry tonight...”
“That much is obvious!” the Minister snapped.
“I tried to warn them,” muttered the card shuffler.
“That’s very true! This one at least seems to have his head in the right place,” said the Senior Undersecretary in his most condescending tone.
“Too bad it won’t be for long,” the Minister giggled uncharacteristically.
“I beg your pardon Ma’am?” The card-shuffling unspeakable was utterly bewildered.
All of a sudden he had a bad feeling that something was terribly wrong. Stunning spells emerged from thin air behind the three Unspeakables, and all three of them collapsed to the floor in a heap. The Minister, short and squat as she was, loomed over the prone Unspeakables and pointed her wand at each in turn.
“Obliviate,” the Minister murmured three times. Then she and an unseen force hauled the unconscious Unspeakables back to their seats around the little table.
“I’ve found the keys,” said a disembodied voice, and a jangling key-ring festooned with keys floated out of the card-shuffling Unspeakable’s robes. “That’ll make things even easier.”
“Excellent Hermione!” said the Senior Undersecretary, who was rifling through papers, files, and pamphlets on a nearby desk. “Let’s get Mr Weasley out of here now.”

~o0o~
Arthur Weasley moaned as he shifted, and his iron shackles clanked. Every nerve ending in his body was on fire, his stomach hurt from lack of food, and his mouth was cracked and dry. Arthur’s jailers had fed him, but a few slices of bread had done very little to curb the hunger pangs. And the most water he’d had was when some Unspeakables had tested out a muggle torture technique on him the day before yesterday.
His foggy brain couldn’t quite remember what they had called it. For some reason he wanted to say “surfboarding,” but that didn’t seem quite right. A deep groaning sound caught Arthur’s attention, and he looked up to see the heavy iron door of his cell swing slowly open. He narrowed his eyes when he saw who it was and glared venomously at Percy.
Wait... something was wrong. Percy’s face seemed to melt and change. Arthur began to wonder if he’d finally cracked and gone loopy. That couldn’t possibly be...
“No! Impossible...” he said in a creaky voice. “It can’t be you!”
“Mr Weasley - it is me, Harry Potter! We’re getting you out of here. Just hang on a moment...” The figure with Harry Potter’s face pointed a wand at Arthur’s shackles, and they burst open, releasing his wrists and ankles.
Arthur peered at the toad-like form next to the person claiming to be Harry Potter. He gasped when her face turned into wax and reshaped itself.
“T...Tonks, is that really you?” he gasped.
“Wotcher Arthur... it’s really me!” Tonks replied, grinning broadly. “And we’re really bustin’ you loose. Just stay quiet for a bit. And don’t mind this for now...” Tonks bound Arthur’s wrist to her own. “...that’s just so I don’t lose you on the way out, alright. Now stay quiet and watch yourself - Harry’s turnin’ you invisible, and I’m gonna put my invisibility cloak back on in a few minutes when we get to the exit...”
Arthur couldn’t believe what was happening. Tonks helped him stagger to his feet as her face changed back into the Minister’s; Harry’s features changed back into Percy’s. The next thing Arthur knew, his entire body became transparent, then vanished completely.

~o0o~
As the fake Minister and the invisible Parvati helped the equally invisible Arthur Weasley stumble through the corridor in the Department of Mysteries, the unseeable Hermione murmured in the fake Percy’s ear.
“Harry, that’s the room with the Time-Turners which we saw on the way to Mr Weasley’s cell, I think we should do something about it. What if...?”
“...What if the Minister thinks of using them to change what’s happening right now when she finds out that Mr Weasley’s gone? Good point Hermione,” Harry-Percy muttered in response. “I’ll set a few delayed spells in the room to go off in five minutes.”
It only took a moment for Harry-Percy to set the delayed charges: a Bombarda Maxima, a Reductor Curse, and a Confringo... Perhaps it was a bit of overkill, but Harry wanted to be certain that the job was done completely. Then they continued on, keeping an eye out for more Unspeakables as they followed behind Dora-Umbridge.
Harry walked hand in hand with his invisible Hermione, past the door which had mysteriously opened as they had strolled by ten minutes ago going the other direction. Harry-Percy glanced once more into the room at the fountain of Amortentia and shook his head with a snort. The door shut of its own accord once Harry and Hermione had passed it.
The Potters both knew implicitly that the Ministry would never understand the pulsating glowing Orb in the centre of the room which had sung out to Harry and Hermione as they had passed it previously. The Ministry’s comprehension of Love was almost as lacking as Voldemort’s. Having a vat of Amortentia at their disposal was never going to help them unlock the secrets of the Orb of Love.
“This shouldn’t be a secret, Hermione - none of this research should be. It should all be accessible to the public,” Harry whispered to his invisible wife.
“One day Harry, when we’ve dealt with the Minister...” said Hermione. “We’ll try and set all of this right.”
Finally Harry-Percy reached the portrait of Prometheus where Phineas Nigellus was waiting for them all. Harry helped the invisible Hermione clamber back into the painting. Once he was certain that Parvati, Dora, and Arthur Weasley were all inside the painting too, Harry leapt up into the frame to join them.
“Thanks for everything Prometheus...” Harry said as he slipped on his invisibility cloak.
“You are welcome Harry Potter... I am most grateful to have met you - and your charming invisible wife,” Prometheus said with a wink. “Do not worry about the abomination who calls herself the Minister... Your secrets are safe with me!”
“Yes... yes! The Potters are delightful - everyone loves them...” snorted Phineas Nigellus “...let’s get a move on...”
As Harry passed beyond the edge of the frame he heard the rumble of several explosions and knew that the Room of Time was destroyed.
Phineas Nigellus led his invisible charges through the other paintings and portraits in the Ministry - none of them the wiser - past the bored Aurors and Unspeakables guarding the corridor which contained the cell of the polyjuiced Unspeakable named Brookstone - and finally reached his own portrait. Then he walked out of the frame and disappeared from the Ministry.

~o0o~
Having returned to Number Twelve, Harry undid the Disillusionment Spells before climbing out of the painting, so that everyone could find their footing easily. Dora and Parvati each had Mr Weasley under an arm.
“Zey are back,” Fleur let out a huge sigh of relief when she spotted the Potters appear in the painting.
“Oh thank goodness you’re all safe...” Daphne squealed as Harry and Hermione emerged from the portrait of Phineas Nigellus.
“Here, let me help,” said Fleur breathlessly, taking the arm of the groaning Arthur Weasley from Parvati, who looked like she was about to collapse. “Mr Weasley should be in bed...”
Dora and Fleur settled Arthur into the bed in the room nearest to Number Twelve’s library. Moments later Daphne and Luna arrived with fresh water, towels, washcloths, and medical supplies.
“Just sips Mr Weasley...” Daphne said worriedly as Arthur tried to gulp from the glass of water she was holding for him. “Too much all at once could make you throw up!”
“Does anyone know a good healing spell?” Luna asked as she dabbed Arthur’s sore, bleeding wrists with a wet cloth.
Dora fumbled for her wand, puffed as she was from hauling Mr Weasley back to Number Twelve with Parvati, but Fleur already had her own wand in hand. Fleur muttered the incantation and the bloody marks left by the iron shackles faded from Arthur’s wrists. Luna began to dab at Mr Weasley’s feverish sweaty brow instead as Daphne put the empty glass of water down and tipped a pain potion and a calming draught into his mouth.
“Will he be alright?” Jennifer asked anxiously as she peered around Harry, Hermione, and Parvati in the doorway.
“He should be now...” gasped Harry with a nod, still panting as his pumping adrenaline began to subside.
“...but it might be a few days,” continued Hermione, her glistening eyes full of concern. “He’s clearly been neglected and tortured...”
“Probably the Cruciatus Curse, and who knows what else...?” Harry muttered angrily.
“Eeek!” Parvati squealed and jumped, bristling when Dobby startled everyone, suddenly appearing with a loud crack.
“Dobby takes over now,” squeaked the eager House-Elf, who appeared to be holding a tureen of broth and a ladle. He set it down on the bedside table and took the damp wash-cloth from Luna to dab Mr Weasley’s forehead himself.
“Are you certain?” Fleur asked dubiously.
“Dobby knows what to do, Mistress Fleur - Dobby is looking after many sick people before. House-Elves is knowing how to do some healing... Master and Mistresses must get their rest now.”
“It’s alright Fleur,” said Harry, grinning for the first time since his return. “Mr Weasley is in good hands.”
“Master Harry and Mistresses must go now - must eat and rest after long day. Dobby leaves midnight snack in the kitchen...” Dobby said, giving everyone a stern look.
Feeling much more cheerful, everyone began to realise that they were indeed famished, as nobody had been able to eat much all day, and gradually they all filed down the stairs to find the “midnight snack,” discovering that Dobby had indeed prepared for a triumphant return. On the table in the kitchen they found trays loaded with crackers, cheeses, sausage rolls, and crisps, and a variety of olives and dips next to bottles of butterbeers.
The Potters and their friends picked up the heavily laden trays and retired to the parlour. But before regaling the others with the details, Harry made a very important mirror-call.
“You’ve got Arthur? Excellent!” Sirius beamed after Harry had informed him of their successful mission. “How did it go? You have to tell me everything...”
“Later Sirius,” Lupin admonished Sirius with a grin. “Let Harry rest for now - he can fill us in on the details tomorrow...”
Finally slumping in an armchair, Harry took a deep swig from a bottle of Butterbeer while Hermione, Dora, and Parvati regaled the others with the full story. Luna held her sides, in stitches from laughing so hard as she rolled around on the floor.
“That’s f...funny - ‘more time... to v...visit... Ministry’s Unemployment Services Division’ --Hahahahahaha...!”
“Mind you, the Unspeakable probably will be looking for a new job when the real Minister discovers that Mr Weasley’s gone in a few hours,” Parvati chortled.
“Anyway,” Dora continued, roaring with laughter herself, “My favourite bit was when Harry said, ‘This one at least seems to have his head in the right place’... ‘e sounded just like that pompous prat, Percy Weasley...”
“I almost lost it when the one Unspeakable said that they weren’t expecting you two - and Dora retorted ‘That much is obvious’....” Hermione giggled.
Daphne and Jennifer both had tears of laughter in their eyes and Fleur was giggling too. It was nearly 4:30 in the morning, but sleep appeared to be an impossibility for the near future. After the giggles died down, the muggle television was turned on and beams of sunlight were pouring through the window before the lot of them fell asleep on the sofas and the armchairs in the parlour.

~o0o~
“Gone? What do you mean Arthur Weasley is gone?” fumed Minister Umbridge. “I just came from the Detention Centre - and Brookstone is still there.”
“N...no Minister... I m...mean the r...real Arthur Weasley is gone!” stammered the Unspeakable “I...I was s...sitting outside his cell all night with the other g...guards. We o...opened his c...cell t..to do a morning check... and he was just... gone. And...and th...the T...T...Time Room. It’s utterly destroyed!”
The Unspeakable led the Minister to the Room of Time and she stared at the smouldering, twisted wreckage. The time-turners, the hour-glasses, the bell jar, the clocks - all demolished. Nothing was left but the mangled, blackened innards of Brass clockwork, scattered sand, shards of glass, and charred splinters of wood.
“But that’s impossible!” the Minister snarled. “There is no indication that the Ministry was breached last night. There is absolutely no sign of entrance at all.”
Dolores Umbridge rubbed her forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. The Time Room was a dead loss, but maybe the Weasley situation could still be salvaged.
“What about the Experimental Tracking Spell? Is it working?”
“That was the first thing we checked. B...but no! If Arthur Weasley travels, we might be able to get a hit. But if he’s inside of a warded home with Unplottable and Fidelius Charms - we still haven’t managed to crack those yet.”
“Right then!” Dolores snapped, “Tell the next watch to keep their eye on the tracking monitor. Weasley will probably have to travel at some point. We’ll track him then! Hopefully he’ll lead us to Dumbledore or the Potters when he does move.”
Still seething with rage, the Minister thought it best to take the rest of the day off and dose her migraine heavily with pain potions and calming draughts. Dolores couldn’t afford to let her anger get the better of her, but her last Potter induced hangover had truly been dreadful and she had no desire for a repeat.
AN:
@ Welshgirl94: Thank you! Hope you enjoy this latest chapter! ... :-)
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Moments in Love