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
- 74
- 75
- 76
Unanimous Resolution

Locked in a passionate embrace, Harry and Hermione rolled around on the damp bed of pine needles, getting wetter and wetter as more icy drips and rivulets of rain seeped through the canopy of the trees above. Hermione giggled when she felt Harry’s fingers slip inside her coat and under her t-shirt, trailing across the bare skin of her tummy.
“That tickles Harry. Does this mean you’re ready then?”
Harry reluctantly dragged his lips away from Hermione’s neck and grinned at her.
“Er... Yeah! I guess I am.”
The Potters clambered to their feet and brushed the wet pine needles from their clothes. Harry made to open an umbrella as they stepped out into the torrent, but Hermione snatched it from his hand.
“Oi... What the...?” said Harry, bemused.
Hermione giggled again as she darted out of Harry’s reach. “If you want it, you’ll have to catch me, Harry.”
Shaking his head and laughing, Harry pelted after Hermione as she ran. Hermione led him on a merry chase through the downpour, and by the time they reached the red brick barn, panting and out of breath, they were both drenched.
“Now we have to get out of our wet things,” said Harry, shivering and grinning as Hermione closed the door behind them.
“That was the plan, yes,” Hermione answered matter-of-factly, shaking excess water from her saturated mane of hair.
“Wasn’t exactly necessary though, was it?” Harry chuckled, his eyebrows raised as he tugged off his t-shirt. “I’m bloody freezing, now.”
Already down to her wet bra and knickers, Hermione rolled her eyes and picked up her wand.
“Necessary, no! Romantic, yes!” she said as she cast a Warming Charm over the barn. “Now hurry up and get out of those clothes.”
Harry chortled again and tugged off his sopping jeans, then popped open a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. Having already replaced several bricks in the wall with the slab of stone from the Room of Requirement before the walk, the Potters wrapped a blanket around themselves and huddled together, sipping the red wine as they listened to the rain beating steadily upon the roof.
Soon enough the chill was gone, and Harry picked up where he had left off under the evergreens, sweeping Hermione’s wet locks out of the way as he nuzzled her neck and his hand slid across her abdomen.
The ardour intensified as the kisses became steamier and caresses traveled; wet undergarments were heatedly yanked off and flung to the side. Harry’s hand reached between Hermione’s parting thighs, his lips encircling the tender pink peaks of her rolling hills.
Hermione bit her lip, already quivering and squeaking blissfully, Harry’s fingers inside her, his thumb twirling her little button. Dousing Harry’s hand with dewiness, Hermione giddily reached for his turgid staff, beckoning him to enter her and seek his own release.
But Harry seemed to have other ideas.
“Harry?” she squealed, slightly startled and confused when his appendage snaked up her torso, between her breasts.
Harry grinned in response. When she felt the crown of his hardness pressing between the humid petals of her heated entrance, as the head of his serpent hovered above her lips, waving tentatively, Hermione suddenly caught on and giggled.
“Er... Well? Do you want to give it a go then?” asked Harry, raising his eyebrows questioningly. “It’s up to you... I can still be Hugh Grant if you’d rather?”
Hermione giggled again, smacking Harry’s shoulder. “I’d rather have my Harry or Harriet any day of the week. But if you’re really sure you don’t mind, Shokushu Harry does sound like fun... I just thought you might feel really weird about it!”
“I don’t mind at all!” Harry said softly, giving Hermione a gentle look with those pretty green eyes that she had fallen in love with. “I never feel weird when I’m with you...”
Hermione felt the tug on her heartstrings and pulled Harry closer for another deep, burning kiss.
Harry’s lance plunged into her sheath. Hermione let out a moan as he began to rock her, and opened her lips wider to take his second appendage in her mouth; she tasted his essence, sucking almost hungrily as it slid over her tongue.
The feeling was almost indescribable; there was something heavenly about having Harry filling her in both places simultaneously. The tidal surges of ecstasy swept Hermione away more than once, and she was gleefully amazed that Harry was still managing to hold on.
Harry was more than surprised himself; the soaring sensations from his two members inside Hermione rushing through him from head to toes were nearly overwhelming. He could feel himself drawing nearer and nearer to the edge of the abyss, but he tried to hold off as long as he could, delighting in both her pleasure and his own.
But as Hermione peaked again for the umpteenth time, the passionate fervor fed back in on itself, and Harry finally lost himself. Awash in a heavenly fog of bliss, he erupted, releasing himself, flooding Hermione’s depths as she thirstily drank from his fountain.
For an eternal moment the pair were as one, undulating, caught in a perfect storm of uncontrollable multiple cascading climaxes.
The Magic arced like bolts of lightning; the Barn lit up, bathed in the pulsating silvery luminescence emanating from the writhing couple. Filaments - all colours of the rainbow - branched from the major crackling arcs bursting from them, and began crawling across the walls, ceiling, and floor of the barn.
The stone from the Room of Requirement glowed intensely. There was one last blinding flash of light... the Barn quaked vigorously... and it was over. The Potters fell into Oblivion...

~o0o~
When Harriet came to, still entwined in Hermione’s embrace - perhaps an hour later - she gave her wife a puzzled look, who was also just starting to stir.
Hermione blinked and shook her own head clear, seeing Harriet’s bewildered expression.
“Harriet, are you alright?” she asked, looking concerned.
“Er... Blimey!” Harriet squeaked anxiously. “I’m not sure, Hermione! I mean... I feel great - that was amazing - but I don’t remember changing into my girl form. I’ve never morphed without doing it on purpose before. D’you think...? That doesn’t mean something’s wrong, does it?”
Hermione bit her lip and frowned pensively. While having a good think, Hermione found her wand and conjured up a towel to wipe her face and hair before answering Harriet’s question.
“Hmm... Well, it’s not really the first time, is it?” she finally said. “You regrew your hair once without even knowing how. .... Obviously transforming into a girl is much more complicated, but you’re used to it by now, as you do it all the time. So if I had to guess, I’d say that you unconsciously forced the change after you’d spent yourself. You’ve just been a rather... er, extreme expression of maleness... and I think you just really needed to be a girl again after all of that!”
Harriet peered at Hermione - who was still toweling herself off - in sudden understanding. She clapped her hand to her mouth, a guilty expression on her face.
“Yeah,” Harriet muttered, “I see what you mean.”
Hermione smiled sympathetically, trying hard not to giggle.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of Harriet. It was lots of fun - brilliant even! I’d really enjoy doing that again with you some time... but only if it doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”
Harriet gave Hermione an abashed looking grin.
“Er... Yeah! Okay! I had loads of fun too... I wouldn’t mind doing it again once in a while. Maybe not too often though - I’m bloody knackered after that...” Harriet trailed off as Hermione leaned in to kiss her.
“Mmm...” said Hermione, an impish expression on her face as she stroked her hand along Harriet’s inner thigh, “That would be disappointing if you were too tired for a bit more now. I was sort of hoping I could spend some time with you as Harriet too.”
“Well, I suppose... If you insist,” said Harriet teasingly, “As long as I don’t have to work so hard this time.”
“Not at all. Just leave it to me,” Hermione giggled, waving her wand at her coat by the barn door.
Harriet wasn’t as surprised as she might have been when she saw the toy fly out of a pocket and across the room, knowing that Hermione usually prepared for every possible situation.
“I made some magical adjustments,” said Hermione, “I should be able to really feel what it’s like to be a boy this time. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Go for it,” Harriet eagerly replied. “Of course I don’t mind.”
A fresh tingle of arousal coursed through Harriet as Hermione readied the strap-on for action and kneeled between her thighs.
The tingle became a cresting swell of elation and Harriet’s toes curled when she felt Hermione prepare her humid pink crescent with kisses, licks and nibbles - Hermione’s tongue alternating between flicking Harriet’s fleshy pearl and burrowing inside her wetness. Harriet was gasping and squeaking, already in the throes of her second climax when Hermione finally presented the tip of the strap-on’s shaft to her spasming entrance.
Harriet writhed under Hermione as the bushy haired witch repeatedly drove the synthetic phallus into her core and moulded her bouncing little globes, moaning into Hermione’s mouth as their lips met, dancing wetly.
The delicious friction of feverous passion was too much and Harriet let out a keening cry of euphoria as she peaked, merging with Hermione for the second time, vaguely cognizant of the pulsing jets inside her, releasing a torrent of nectar into her channel.
The barn trembled again, crackling arcs of Magic leaping from wall to wall once more.
It was another while before the pair of glowing witches roused again. Harriet grinned, giving her wife a tender smooch.
“That was brilliant, Hermione!” said Harriet. “I always wondered what that felt like...”
“So did I,” Hermione retorted, smirking. “I think I might enjoy being the boy a bit more often.”
“As long as you don’t get me pregnant... OW!” Harriet chortled when Hermione gave her a swat.
“You know that can’t happen. It wasn’t real, er... semen,” said Hermione, giving Harriet a mock glare. “And I know you never bothered with the internal reproductive bits. Though if I ever do work out how to make it real when we’re older, you’d best be prepared to learn how to transform those parts too if you want more than one kid...”
“Er...” Harriet gulped, hoping Hermione was joking. “Speaking of transformations... The barn...” Harriet deflected. “We should give it a test run and have our picnic...”
Hermione’s eyes widened as she and Harriet glanced around the chamber - for that was what the interior of the barn looked like now, a grand castle chamber...

~o0o~
“Wow! You did it... it actually worked!” gasped Parvati as she and the rest of the Coven peered at the inside of the barn later that afternoon.
“Was there ever any doubt?” Ginny giggled, giving the luminescent Potters a smirk which made them both blush.
“Not really,” said Luna, looking slightly wistful, as if she had hoped the services of the entire Coven would be called for.
“It’s amazing!” exclaimed Jennifer. “It looks like just like a room at Hogwarts - like a castle made out of stone I mean... instead of bricks...”
“Let’s test it out,” said Daphne eagerly.
“Well, it definitely works. Hermione turned it into a London art gallery and we looked at the pictures while we had lunch. But I’m so worn out, I can’t even think about training,” groaned Harriet. “And I’m the one who wanted it the most.”
“Well, never mind that, Harriet,” chimed in Hermione. “We’re just supposed to be relaxing on weekends anyway - Pomfrey’s orders.”
“Yeah,” said Jennifer, “Just think of something fun, Harriet.”
“Er... well given the dreadful weather outside, we should try and think of a sunny place,” said Harriet. “But why don’t you guys choose!?”
“Oooh, I know just ze place,” Fleur cooed excitedly.
The Coven filed back outside into the icy downpour and waited as Fleur paced back and forth by the door of the barn several times. Fleur turned the handle of the door when she was finished and everyone held their breaths as it swung open. Delightedly, the Coven found themselves on a bright sandy beach, the blue-green waters of the sea sparkling in the sunlight and lapping at the shore.
“Oh! The Côte d'Azur!” squeaked Hermione joyfully. “That was a lovely idea Fleur...”
“Oui!” Fleur nodded and beamed radiantly. “Zis is beach near a village not so far from Saint-Tropez - ees not so popular with non-magical tourists as mos’ must hike or take boat. But for wizards, is easy... and for us, even easier, non?”
“Bloody brilliant Fleur!” Dora grinned. “What say we all dash back to the house for bikinis and sunglasses...”
The Coven spent the rest of Saturday afternoon lounging in the stunningly realistic simulation of the French Riviera under summer skies while the late January rainstorm continued to rage outside.
Sunday passed just as pleasantly, everyone relaxing and engaging in hobbies. Harriet took the opportunity away from Hogwarts to remain in girl form, and had another go at painting under Jennifer’s expert tutelage while Hermione and Fleur retired to the library for a bit of light reading. Daphne joined Harry and Jennifer, interested in trying her hand at painting as well - though by the end of the session, there was more oil paint covering Daphne than there was on her canvas.
Dora, Parvati, and Luna spent part of the morning in the music room as Ginny looked on. Luna tapped away on the drum machine while Dora played the keyboard and Parvati warmed up her voice. Dora caught Ginny’s eye after half an hour of making a racket.
“Oi, Ginny, you look a bit bored. Come ‘ere...” Dora gestured at the synthesizer.
“Er... What?” Ginny squeaked nervously. “I don’t know how to play piano.”
“You don’t really ‘ave to know how, to have a bit of fun at first,” said Dora. “That’s the beauty of a synth... I can show you enough t’get you started. We can try making a song.”
“Er...”
“Go on, Ginny,” begged Luna, brightening at the idea of Ginny joining in properly. “It’ll be fun! ... Please?”
“Yeah... Come on Ginny,” said Parvati imploringly. “Give it a go.”
“Oh alright,” Ginny grumbled, clambering to her feet. “So what do I do then?”
Dora fiddled for a moment with a few buttons. “There, that oughta do it... Should be a nice synthy-bass tone. Yeah! ... Alright then, hit that key...”
Ginny tentatively tapped the white plastic key and a loud rumble boomed from the amplifier. She jumped back, squeaking. Parvati and Luna giggled.
“That’s fine,” said Dora encouragingly. “Go on, hit it again. All you need t’do is tap out a rhythm...”
Ginny bit her lip and began bouncing her finger on the key.
“Yeah... That’s it - just like that, Ginny. Now, see these keys...?” Dora pointed at two more keys and Ginny nodded. “Alright... You can tap out a beat for a bit on the first one, then go to that one and do the same thing for a bit, and then the same on the other. All you gotta do is keep time. ... If you can count, you can do this, no problem...”
Ginny went back and forth between the keys while Dora counted out for a bit until she thought she’d got the hang of it. She glanced at Dora questioningly.
“Brilliant!” Dora grinned and picked up her guitar. “Just keep doing that. Luna, start hittin’ that drum machine again - you and Ginny just watch each other and tap out the rhythms. I’ll join in, with a chord progression, and Parvati, you just make up a melody and whatever lyrics you want...”
After about ten minutes it all came together and actually sounded like a song. Ginny beamed, amazed that she was actually making music with the others. Several hours later, Harriet and Hermione poked their heads in the door of the music studio.
“Blimey!” said Harriet, looking impressed. “That sounds really good.”
“Ta Harriet,” said Dora. “What’s up you two?”
“If you’re all hungry, Dobby’s got lunch ready,” said Hermione...

~o0o~
After lunch, the rest of the day proceeded apace, and too soon it was over. When Hermione crawled into bed that night and snuggled under Harriet’s arm, Harriet caught a whiff of Hermione’s toothpaste and let out a contented sigh as she stroked her tawny curls. Harriet felt so relaxed the following morning that she almost forgot to change back into boy form until she saw herself in the mirror after a quick shower.
For a moment, Harriet considered returning to Hogwarts as a girl, and just changing back into Harry whenever she felt in the mood. But a knot of anxiety formed in her stomach at the thought. Dean, Neville, and Viktor were still the only ones besides the Coven who knew that Harry could turn into a girl - not counting Dumbledore.
Viktor and Neville had never actually seen Harry as Harriet though, and as far as Dean knew, Harry had simply been disguising himself as a girl during the search for a Ministry facility just to keep the Ministry off his trail.
Harriet wasn’t sure that she was ready yet for anyone else to know that she actually liked being a girl sometimes. That sort of thing was definitely looked down on in the non-magical world - Uncle Vernon wasn’t the only one who thought people who sometimes presented themselves as the opposite gender were freaks - and Harriet was quite certain that most wizards would think she was a weirdo too.
There was no question that she had been growing more and more resigned to being famous as the Boy-Who-Lived, but Harriet still felt that she would much rather not be the centre of attention and potential scorn at Hogwarts yet again. Besides, it was still very important to keep being a metamorphmagus a secret, Harriet reminded herself. Sighing, Harriet watched as her features changed and she was Harry once more, then he put on his bathrobe and returned to his and Hermione’s room.
Hermione was already dressed when she heard Harry entering the bedroom. She glanced up and caught the look in his eye.
“You alright, Harry? Is something wrong?”
“Er...” At first Harry wasn’t really sure what to say, but then the words came. “I just felt like being a girl for a bit longer, but I’m really not comfortable at the idea of anyone else knowing. ... And it really ought to stay a secret for now anyway,” he concluded with a sigh.
Hermione’s brow furrowed sympathetically. “I’m sorry Harry. You shouldn’t have to feel that way...”
“It’s alright really,” said Harry as he dressed. “I’ll manage. At least I can be who I like when I’m with you and the others, and I can actually change physical form whenever I want to. ... It’s got to be loads worse for people who feel trapped in the wrong body all the time and can’t transfigure themselves as easily as a metamorphmagus, and get treated badly if they do dress up or get surgeries to change themselves.”
“You’re probably right,” Hermione nodded. “Still, nobody should be afraid to be themselves in public, not even you, Harry.” A sudden thought occurred to Hermione and she bit her lip guiltily. “You know I was just joking on Saturday, right?”
“Hunh? About what?” asked Harry’s muffled voice as he pulled his school-blazer over his head.
“When I said that if I ever worked out how to magically produce my own semen that you should be prepared to morph yourself a womb if you wanted more than one child with me. I was just kidding... I swear! I don’t want you to feel trapped in the wrong body for nine months Harry!”
Blazer now properly in place, Harry peered at Hermione’s worried, earnest features and ran his fingers through his mussed up hair.
“Of course I know you were joking, Hermione,” he said reassuringly. “But honestly, for you I’d do it! You’re going to have a brilliant career - I just know it - and I don’t want you to think I expect you to be stuck at home all the time having loads of kids...”
Harry was cut off when he suddenly found his arms full of Hermione, who had flung herself on him and was showering him with kisses. Harry grinned, staggering slightly under the onslaught of Hermione’s vigorous affections.
“You’re so sweet Harry,” said Hermione. “Anyway, we don’t have to even think about children until we’re properly old enough...”
“...not until our thirties, right?”
“That sounds about right,” Hermione giggled, giving Harry a proper kiss on the lips. “Now hurry up and get your robes on, breakfast at Hogwarts will be starting any minute...”
Moments later, Harry and Hermione greeted the rest of the Coven in the Parlour, and one by one they stepped through Aphrodite’s portrait at Jennifer’s manor, and emerged from the other copy on the other side of the wall at Hogwarts...

~o0o~
Several weeks had passed since the hearings in the International Confederation of Wizards’ head offices had begun. It was mid February, and the snow in Brussels showed little sign of abating just yet; heavy flurries swirled outside the window of the chamber in which the hearings were being conducted.
“This meeting of the Committee for ze Investigation of Statutory Violations is hereby called to order - presiding officer, Dame Angelika Machschnell.” The stern looking German witch’s voice rang out in the chamber as she banged her gavel on the wooden trivet. She peered at the other six members of the seven member Committee.
“Ve are here today to consider bringing charges against ze British Minister of Magic, Dolores Jane Umbridge. The charges before us stand as follows: First - that Minister Umbridge has knowingly colluded with a non-magical Official. Second charge - that Minister Umbridge has engaged in ze subjugation of non-magical persons, specifically those unfavoured by the aforementioned non-magical Official.
“Third charge - that Minister Umbridge has engaged in ze systematic oppression of wizards born into non-magical families. Fourth - that in carrying out ze subjugation of non-magicals, and the oppression of wizards from non-magical families, the Minister ordered the commission of multiple Crimes Against Humanity.
“And lastly, but certainly not least, Minister Umbridge is also charged with ordering ze attempted assassination of Harry James Potter. Further charges may be issued, pending arrest and full investigation, but zese charges alone are enough to detain Minister Umbridge, and hold her over to face an International Tribunal.
“It is my recommendation zat this committee shall bring to the floor of the General Assembly of the International Confederation of Wizards a motion to issue an International Arrest Warrant for Minister Umbridge, and that sanctions be brought to bear against ze British Ministry until such a time as Minister Umbridge is taken into custody. How say you all?”
The Nigerian delegate, Madam Ogoba, was quick to respond.
“I second the motion!” she stated firmly, with a look that dared the others to disagree.
“Perhaps... a measure of caution is warranted before we render a decision,” said the Greek committee member in an oily tone. “We should not move with undue haste. I still have questions regarding the veracity of Ms Mason’s and her daughter’s testimony, and the evidence presented by Dumbledore’s people.”
“Perhaps then, you also qvestion ze integrity of the committee’s own investigators, Herr Papadopoulos?” snapped the German head of the committee. “Ze testimony of all non-magicals - including that of Ms Mason and her daughter - vos confirmed by pensieve examination of their memories...”
“Memories may be altered or manipulated,” interjected Pericles Papadopoulos
“However, such alteration alvays leaves traces.” Dame Machschnell glowered at the Greek delegate. “Our Legilimens haff verified that ze memories of all those who provided testimony are unaltered - a true representation of events.
“Likevise, our investigators haff confirmed all ze evidence collected thus far: the documents, the artifacts - including the wands of torturers and murderers - and ze tools of necromancy, the footage filmed during ze raid on the concentration camp...
“Perhaps you vish to call zem to testify again? ...including Ms Mason’s young daughter? The girl is available to speak if you vish to subject her to the torment of recounting her travails in person...”
Pericles narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
“That will not be necessary,” he said quietly.
The head of the committee barreled on, her jaw set, eyes glittering dangerously.
“Then there is the testimony of a Kappa assassin - who ve haff in our custody should you vish to speak to him...?”
Pericles shook his head again, and Dame Machschnell continued.
“Ze confirmation of a single piece of evidence vould be enough to bring even one charge against the Minister... and we haff many such pieces of evidence. And over these past weeks, you were here in these very chambers as ve examined all this evidence, were you not?” the head of the committee concluded pointedly.
“Yes, indeed I was,” the Greek delegate answered slickly. “I merely wished to be certain of all the facts before irrevocably and irreparably damaging the sterling reputation of such a highly respected head of government as Minister Umbridge.”
“How very noble of you Pericles,” Madam Ogoba offered coldly, her nostrils flaring. “We wouldn’t want to harm the reputation of someone who encourages the rape and murder of children now, would we?”
Several members of the committee coughed and shuffled uncomfortably in their seats at Olubunmi Ogoba’s pointed remarks. Dame Machschnell raised an eyebrow; her steely look made it clear that the time for debate was long past.
One by one, the committee members raised their hands to affirm the decision to bring charges against Minister Umbridge. Finally, slowly, when the count reached him, Pericles Papadopoulos raised his own hand as he smiled thinly at Madam Ogoba.
“A unanimous decision! Excellent!” exclaimed Dame Machschnell. “I shall call for a full session of the ICW, and ve shall present our findings on ze floor for a vote on Monday.”

~o0o~
Harry scowled at a particularly intractable Arithmancy problem on the worksheet. He was loath to ask Hermione for help just yet, as he really wanted to give it his best effort first. He sighed and peered out of the window of the classroom, watching the snow as it came down again.
Winter seemed to still be in full gear at Hogwarts, even though Southern England had recovered from January’s severe cold snap. The last few weekends at Jennifer’s had been quite wet, but yesterday the clouds had parted for a few hours of sunshine and temperatures that hinted at Spring, even though it was still a month off.
Briefly, Harry wondered what Sirius and Remus were up to. The last time he and Hermione had seen them, they would only say that they were quite busy, though there had been very little indication that the Minister had made any more major moves.
Harry finally returned his attention to the parchment on the desk, but his befogged brain was still refusing to yield any answers. He heard the door open and a gentle voice carry across the classroom.
“Alright you lot, I think you’re due for a break.”
Harry peered at Hestia, grateful for the interruption.
“Harry dear,” said Hestia, addressing him with warm familiarity. “Professor Dumbledore would like a word with you in his office - all of you that is. I think it might be some good news...”
Harry perked up. “Really? What’s going on then? Does this have something t’do with the Minister?”
“I think the headmaster is in a better position to answer your questions dear. Hurry along now...”
Hestia turned to Jennifer who was working on a History assignment. She gave her a hug and whispered in her ear. A flicker of puzzlement crossed Jennifer’s features, but she nodded before joining the others.
“What was that about?” asked Harry as they made their way to Dumbledore’s office.
“I... I’m not sure,” Jennifer replied, biting her lip pensively. “Hestia just said that there was someone we were going to meet, and that we might be able to help them.”
“That’s odd. I wonder who it could be...” said Hermione. “Oh well,” she continued after a moment of thought, “I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”
When the Coven crowded into the headmaster’s office, Dumbledore was waiting with twinkles in his eyes, though nobody else but Fawkes seemed to be there with him. Harry supposed that whoever else they were meeting was waiting in another room. As usual, Dumbledore offered everyone comfy chairs and cups of tea. Once everyone was seated the headmaster began.
“Thank you all for coming today,” Dumbledore beamed. “I have some welcome news that concerns us all, though that is not the only reason why I have asked you all to join me...”
“Hestia told me that someone wants to meet us,” Jennifer interjected.
“Indeed,” Dumbledore agreed, “And momentarily you shall. But to begin with, the news which brings us together is that the General Assembly of the International Confederation of Wizards met early this morning in Brussels. They issued a ruling based largely on the evidence gathered by you during the raid on the Ministry compound in Wales, and also during the rescue of Arthur Weasley, not to mention the testimony presented by those rescued - including that of Puddleby’s mayor.
“The Committee for the Investigation of Statutory Violations has spent several weeks sorting through the evidence, and suffice it to say that they found it all credible. Thus, when they made their recommendation to the General Assembly of the ICW today, a resolution was passed to issue an International Arrest Warrant for Minister Umbridge.”
Jaws dropped, and gasps of amazement issued from the Coven. The air itself seemed to crackle with excitement. The portraits on the wall burst into applause and Harry’s eyes widened.
“That’s excellent sir! Does that mean that they’re sending help?”
“Alas, that is beyond the purview of the ICW,” the headmaster answered. “The matter is still regarded as an internal conflict, and foreign forces would only be dispatched if this conflict threatened to spill across international boundaries.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Harry sighed, “It might be too interfering otherwise.”
Hermione nodded in agreement.
“Indeed! However,” Dumbledore continued, “it does mean that our cause is legitimised, and that Minister Umbridge is more or less trapped in Britain. It will be very difficult for her to find safe haven, should she choose to flee when we close in on her.”
“About that sir,” said Harry, “how’s it going finding the rest of the internment centres?”
Dumbledore let out a sigh. “Ah... Well, as you know, after your raid on the Welsh Compound, the others were much more carefully hidden by the Ministry. We are still looking, of course, but our forces are still stretched somewhat thin - despite an upsurge in recruitment - especially as we now have a sizable contingent protecting Puddleby from suffering further retaliatory measures. Though I do believe that our efforts have kept the Ministry’s attempts to round up more muggleborn to a bare minimum.”
“What about countering the Minister’s plans?” asked Hermione. “Do we have any idea yet what she’s planning next.”
“Not at the moment,” Dumbledore responded with another sigh. “However, I am considering several of the most likely scenarios - one of which is that she may make an attempt to lay siege to Hogsmeade, to draw myself and Harry out - and I am formulating a number of plans to counter each and every one of them.
“When I have some further information regarding her movements, I shall be certain to inform you. And then we shall choose the best option - one which shall hopefully lead to the end of this war. Now, if there are any more questions, please feel free to ask.”
When nobody seemed to have anything else to ask, Dumbledore nodded.
“Well then, perhaps it is time to meet our guests.” He waved his wand and a tall mahogany bookcase slid to the side, revealing a hidden door. Harry wondered if it led to Dumbledore’s quarters. The door swung open, and four people stepped into the room.
Harry flushed in recognition. The shy little girl reddened as well and hid behind her mother. A hot cauldron of emotions stirred inside Harry as he recalled the state in which he’d last seen the girl. A surge of savage fury flooded his veins, remembering what the guards at the Welsh compound had done to her.
Then he caught the eye of Clara Dawson’s sister Gemma before she quickly looked away, whom he was quite certain had been subjected to similar treatment by Minister Umbridge’s Death Eaters.
For a brief moment, Harry felt like blowing something up, or burning another building to the ground. Hermione quickly took Harry’s hand and gave it a comforting squeeze; he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, feeling himself calm again.
Dora chewed her lower lip, sharing a look of commiseration with Clara Dawson.
Jennifer swallowed, suddenly realising why Hestia had given her the heads up. She glanced at Harry and saw the same distress written all over his face. She knew that if Harry was too upset to say anything, that it might be up to her.
“Introductions hardly seem necessary,” said Dumbledore softly. “But I would like to say that the testimony of Ms Andrea Mason and her daughter Samantha, and of Gemma Dawson, was crucial in swaying the Committee to press for the arrest of Minister Umbridge...”
“And we wanted to thank you all for that opportunity, and... and I really didn’t get a chance to thank you properly when you rescued us,” Andrea suddenly interjected. “Words really aren’t enough - but thank you...” Tears began to trickle as she attempted a smile.
“Thank you especially for saving my daughter, Samantha - she means the world to me. I... I could have died happy knowing that she was safe, but... you saved us both - gave us both a chance to be a family again... Thank you so much!”
“And thank you for my sister,” said Clara Dawson, putting her arm comfortingly around Gemma, who looked like she was about to cry. “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
Gemma nodded gratefully, opening and closing her mouth, clearly too anxious to speak.
“Th...thank you! ...from me too!” squeaked a scared little voice from behind Andrea Mason. Samantha peeked her head around her mother, then hid again.
Harry suddenly found himself with tears streaming down his cheeks. The little girl looked even younger to his eyes than he or Hermione had at her age, the year they had started Hogwarts.
“Er... Hi!” Harry barely managed to croak. “You’re welcome... all of you...” He glanced at Jennifer, catching the rest of the Coven’s glistening eyes as he did so, and then peered questioningly at Hermione and Dora.
Dora nodded, knowing exactly what Harry’s question was. She had been asking herself the same question for some time.
Hermione could feel it too. She knew what Harry wanted to say - what he wanted to ask if he had a voice.
“Hello!” said Hermione as she smiled, her own eyes teary. “I’m glad we were there - that we were able to save you, Samantha... to save all of you...” Hermione peered earnestly at Samantha’s mother and at Gemma Dawson. “We... we’d like to help you some more if you’ll let us... if Professor Dumbledore will let us...”
“I... I don’t understand,” Andrea Mason looked puzzled. “You’ve already done so much for us. How can you help us more than you already have?”
All eyes turned to Dumbledore. The headmaster peered back at his students over the top of his half-moon spectacles, feeling the same ache in his heart as they all gazed at him beseechingly.
Dumbledore sighed inwardly, raising his bushy eyebrows as he rubbed at his furrowed brow. He had to concede that their unspoken request wasn’t entirely unexpected. He had considered the idea himself, but had decided to leave well enough alone unless a member of the Coven brought it up. It was a dangerous prospect in these troubled times.
But now the burden of the decision had been thrust right back in his lap. Dumbledore’s clear blue eyes finally came to rest on Jennifer, and he knew that in the end, there was only one correct choice for this circumstance, and that he had to be the one to make the offer.
“Ms Mason, Samantha... Ms Dawson,” he began, “What my students are offering is nothing short of a miracle - a miraculous healing. What might normally be accomplished only after many months - if not years - of counseling and recovery for victims of trauma, can be accomplished in the space of minutes... thanks to a special talent of two of those who sit before you.
“My students - Harry and Hermione Potter - are the only ones to have seen a certain spell through to its fullest potential - a spell which drives away Darkness, Death, and Despair - a spell which restores the Spirit. They are truly the Masters of this Life affirming spell as are no others in the wizard world.
“With this spell - in their hands - Samantha’s and Gemma’s nightmares can be put to rest and their terrors dispelled... if they would allow my students to perform this Charm upon them.
“There is only one possible side-effect of which you must be aware. If either Samantha or Miss Dawson harbour a certain recessive gene - and there is a possibility that they might - then this spell could activate this gene. If this should occur, Samantha and Gemma... they would gain the ability to control Magic - in short, the possibility exists that they may become witches.”
“You’re joking!” gasped Andrea Mason.
“Are you kidding?” asked Gemma Dawson quietly, speaking for the first time, frowning, looking slightly suspicious.
The headmaster shook his head. “Not at all. If you or Samantha do indeed gain magical abilities, you and she would need training of course. Samantha is of the right age to begin such training here at Hogwarts. And though you are certainly past the age of majority, Hogwarts is currently operating an Independent Studies programme, so you would be able to remain an learn while being spared the indignity of sitting in on classes with the younger students...
“And under the circumstances, given the situation with the current Ministry, I could see fit to allow your sister Clara, and Samantha’s mother, Ms Mason, to reside here as well for the time-being. The choice is yours and Ms Mason’s of course.”
“Erm... I... I don’t know. This... this is quite unbelievable...” Andrea Mason trailed off, a shocked expression on her face, and glanced at her daughter uncertainly, whose eyes had turned into saucers - wide and pleading.
“Mummy? Please...?” squeaked Samantha.
Gemma glanced at her sister uncertainly...

~o0o~
Garrick Ollivander tapped his steepled fingers against each other while he waited in Dumbledore’s office with a large trunk full of wands. He peered curiously at the woman in the armchair next to his, and at the headmaster. Dumbledore had sent for him nearly twenty minutes ago with a cryptic request. Ollivander was extremely grateful for the Order’s protection in one of their safehouses, so of course he had come at once.
A number of Dumbledore’s delicate silver and gold instruments appeared to be whirring and spinning with great intensity as Fawkes eyed them warily. Not more than ten minutes later the door burst open and a giddy little girl ran in squealing loudly, a radiant smile on her face.
“Mummy!” she shouted gleefully. “I can do Magic... I’m a witch now!”
The little girl was followed by two young women walking at a more sedate pace, both whispering. One of the young women rolled her eyes.
“Go on, Gemma! Don’t be silly!” said the slightly older looking young woman. “Of course I don’t mind you being a witch. Now let’s go get you a wand...”
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Moments in Love