London, Ministry of Magic, August 8th, 1999, 11.21 hours
Sitting on the bench near the Fountain of Magical Brethren in the Ministry's atrium, Hermione watched another Ministry employee walk past in the slight daze typical of someone who had just received the antidote to Veritaserum. The young Wand-Leader shook her head. She spotted Colin walking towards her, but there was no sign of Dean.
"Dean's coming in a few minutes, he was held up by Sally-Anne," Colin said as he reached her and sat down. "What's wrong?"
"Dawlish. He actually thinks using Veritaserum on anyone even remotely connected to the Floo Network Authority will help him find the traitor." She sighed. "As if the Memory Charm and the Fake-Memory Charm didn't exist." Amateurs.
"Fake memories can be found with careful questioning though, especially if the subject can't remember why they did something," Colin said.
Hermione nodded. The youngest member of her team had read the books she had given him last year. "Even if they pay enough attention to spot such signs, they would not catch the real traitor, but his imperiused patsy." And if the real traitor was as careful as Hermione suspected, they wouldn't have shown their face at all. Maybe even used polyjuice. "Though if they find the patsy, they could narrow down the number of suspects to those who both have the skill, and the opportunity to pull this off."
"That's a lot of wizards and witches."
"Not that many. We're either dealing with an old mole, dating back to before the Minister killed the Dark Lord, or a recent convert with the skills and talent for this." Not many of those were around.
"You've got a suspect in mind already?"
"Not a suspect, but a group of suspects. Former and present Obliviators." The number of Obliviators had been reduced in the last decade. There hadn't been a need for too many of them; with the blood traitors gone, very few wizards and witches in Britain were as foolish as to interact with muggles.
"The mole could have hidden his skill," Colin said.
"Unlikely. Delusional Fanatics believing that the Dark Lord returned from death are not the type to make such long-term plans. I think it's someone who has been turned recently."
"What would be his motive?"
"Gold. Blackmail. Threats to their family." All things a thorough investigation would turn up.
"Did you tell Dawlish that?" Colin watched another dazed employee walk past.
"He didn't listen." Hermione's mouth formed a thin line.
"Do you think we'll have to bail them out again then?" Colin asked in an eager voice.
"That's likely. The Minister wants that traitor found." And that was exactly the kind of task the Investigative Branch had been formed for. Hermione couldn't wait to show their worth.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
London, Ministry of Magic, August 9th, 1999, 16.40 hours
"Wand-Leader Hermione to see you, Minister."
"Send her in," Lucius Malfoy said to his secretary.
The girl walked in and saluted, then stood at attention. He nodded at her. "You wanted to speak to me, Wand-Leader?"
"Yes, sir." She looked determined, but also slightly nervous. Just as she should be. "It's about Jeremiah Brockleton."
"The traitor?" Dawlish had come through, as expected, and found the wizard who had delayed the alert from the Notts.
"I don't think that he is the real traitor, sir." The witch raised her chin slightly. Stubborn.
"Oh? Dawlish found that he sabotaged the Floo, obliviated himself of the memory of his deed, but failed to cover his tracks. His wand revealed the spells."
"I believe that the investigation by the Aurors was a bit prematurely concluded, sir. He had to have been in contact with someone else. The timing of the attack with his shift is too perfect."
"You don't believe it could have been a coincidence?"
"No, sir. There are no coincidences."
Lucius hid his smile at the parroted line. It was good to see that his Wands were as suspicious as they had to be to serve him, even if it was currently a bit inconvenient. "Have you read the report of the investigation?"
"No, sir." Her tone told Lucius that she didn't think the investigation was worth the parchment it had been written on. She wasn't wrong, of course.
"I see. And yet you think the Aurors missed something."
"Yes, sir." Stubborn indeed.
"And you wish to lead your own investigation."
"Yes, sir."
Lucius leaned back. He was certain that the girl would not give up even if he denied her request. The thought of a traitor inside the Ministry was too much too bear, as it should be. Fortunately, this wasn't an unexpected complication. He sighed. "Truth to be told, I'm not too happy with the investigation myself." He hid his amusement at the way her face lit up. So eager, so smart, and yet so easily fooled. "But this needs to be discreet. To undermine the Aurors without concrete proof would be ill-advised in the current situation. Britain needs to stand united in the face of this threat."
The mudblood nodded. "Of course, sir."
"Tell me your plans."
He made appreciative comments while the girl explained her suspicions and conclusions. They were well-reasoned out, even though they were quite wrong. A bit of Legilimency showed that she honestly believed her words, and didn't suspect anyone else. For such a smart witch, her mind was rather easy to read. When she had finished, he nodded. "Your request is granted. You report directly to me, not to anyone else."
"Yes, sir!"
He nodded at her. "Anything else?"
"No sir."
"Very well. Good work, Wand-Leader."
She beamed at him before leaving. Once the door shut behind her, he grinned and shook his head. She'd never find Severus, of course. The man was far too skilled as a spy. But Lucius might have to tell Albert to prepare another patsy. One that would suicide upon capture. Not right now though - it wouldn't hurt to have the little mudblood investigate Lucius's employees for signs of treason. After all, there could be a real mole hiding in their ranks, one Severus didn't know about. And whatever else turned up would make good blackmail material.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
London, Knockturn Alley, August 9th, 1999, 22.14 hours
"Knockturn Alley. You'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy," Tonks, wearing the disguise of a slightly older and much less reputable witch, whispered while she and Ron Weasley entered the infamous alley.
"Worse than Marseille's Rue Maudite?" Ron, disguised as an older blond wizard himself thanks to some muggle hair dye and makeup, had some limited experience with that part of Magical Marseille.
T
onks actually paused. "Good question. I'd say Knockturn Alley is safer for visitors. You don't have as big a chance to get robbed or kidnapped here. The Wands and Aurors react violently to such acts, and don't care much about who they hurt, so the residents police themselves more. But the goods and services offered here…" she shuddered.
Ron nodded. That was why they were here, after all. His hand slipped into the expanded pocket of his robe, patting the the small case stored there. Tonks had already scouted out the Wand and Auror presence in the alley.
Arms hooked, the two strolled down the alley, past the pawn shops and secondhand shops catering to Wizarding Britain's poor. Their goal lay further in, where the shops and pubs and brothels catered to those with more gold and a taste for the illegal.
Like 'The Blue Pixie'. They stepped past the doorguard, a thin wizard twirling his wand as if he was wishing for a fight, and entered a dimly lit room with many alcoves, centered around a stage where a nude witch was dancing around a cauldron where another nude witch was apparently taking a bath. Not a really exciting sight for someone who had spent weeks in Magical Paris, and had been on a few raids on brothels in Marseille. Celestina Warbeck's 'A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love', was playing, and Ron couldn't help imagining his parents' reactions to one of their favorite songs being played in such a lewd scene.
Out of habit, Ron scanned the room. He didn't spot anything illegal before they were seated in an alcove. He hadn't expected to - they'd be discreet. Polyjuice taken backstage, mind control spells that didn't leave the victim a brainless drone.
A young witch in a far too-skimpy robe and heels so high she had to be using magic not to stumble approached them, carrying a tray with a few empty glasses on it. She used her wand to clean the table, then took their orders.
Ron looked over at Tonks, who had drawn her wand, acting as if she was just cleaning her clothes. She nodded at him. They were currently not being spied upon then. Good. He slipped his hand into his pocket again, opened the case, and felt a dozen tiny creatures scramble up his fingers and arm, disappearing under his robe.
He had to struggle not to twitch when the little bugs started to make their way down to the floor over his belly and legs, and grabbed his drink when the waitress returned as if it was a quaffle.
Tonks leaned in, pointing at the stage where the two witches were now inside the cauldron, doing things he really did not want to associate with his parents, and whispered into his ear: "Everything alright?"
Ron raised the glass, covering his lips, while he answered: "They tickle."
That had the metamorphmagus giggling. "I'll tell the twins then that they need to redo their recording bugs."
"Do it, and you can collect the bugs by yourself next week," Ron whispered back. They'd tease him mercilessly about it. They wouldn't make them worse. Probably.
"I could."
"And get hit upon by everyone, and draw attention?"
"Maybe I like attention."
"Of course you do." He ignored her huffing. "But I'd hope you've got higher standards than wanting the kind of attention you get in this alley."
"Maybe I'll make you collect them by yourself." She pouted at him, then suddenly grinned. "What would your girlfriend say if she caught you with a whore on your arm?"
"She'd not recognize me in this disguise."
"Ah, right. If she was that smart, she'd not be with you." Tonks giggled again.
"She isn't with me anyway," Ron answered.
"Mh."
Ron sighed. Tonks was again acting like an annoying elder sister. He usually could handle her better, but he usually wasn't getting close to a girl working for the enemy. He had to admit, though, that he didn't feel nervous anymore about infiltrating Knockturn Alley. Which was good because they had to plant the bugs in half a dozen more locations if they wanted a good chance to catch a Ministry employee doing something illegal enough to blackmail them.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
London, Ministry of Magic, August 12th, 1999, 18.23 hours
"Look at that robe! Madam Malkin's most expensive piece this season."
Hermione pointed at one of the pictures spread out on the desk in her office. They showed all the members of the current roster of the Obliviators, in civilian clothes and on duty, and had been taken in the last few days.
Dean and Colin bent forward and studied the picture - Colin craning his neck because he was looking at it upside down. She used the opportunity to vanish the remains of three sandwiches - her team and herself had done quite a lot of overtime this week, though given the importance of their missions, that was only to be expected.
"Didn't know you were a fashion expert, Hermione," Dean said, leaning back and grinning.
She rolled her eyes at him. "I checked the catalogues for robes and jewelry for this assignment." Fashion was something for purebloods to worry about. Wands worried about more important things.
"So… that makes the fifth Obliviator with more gold than he should have," Colin said, looking pensive.
Hermione nodded. "And the other two we've checked come from rich families."
"Which means we wouldn't be able to tell if they also had more gold than they should have. A pattern." Dean grabbed his cup of tea and finished it.
"A distinct pattern." Hermione stood up and started to pace. "Well-hidden - most would assume the Obliviators were simply paid more in general." But her team had the records from the treasury.
"They would know though, so all had to be in on it. But all of them being traitors…" Colin trailed off, suddenly looking unsure of his own conclusions.
"It doesn't have to be treason," Hermione said. "It's more likely that this is a sign of corruption. It could be treason though. It would be easier to hide gold if they are already receiving bribes. Or they could be blackmailed." She faced her two teammates. "Either way, we need to investigate this."
"We already are. We've trailed and observed them for hours to take those pictures," Dean commented. "And we haven't found a sign of where they get this gold. Despite even observing them in their bedrooms." And hadn't that been a surprise, to find out just how good Colin was at taking pictures without getting seen. Hermione wondered just what her youngest team member had been up to at Hogwarts - Wands could get away with a lot if they were training useful skills. Like sneaking and spying.
The Wand-Leader nodded. "We haven't observed them at work though."
Dean's eye widened when he understood what she implied. Colin blinked at first, looking confused. "We've spied on them in their offices… oh!"
Hermione didn't confirm their guess, even though they were right. The Obliviators were the only Ministry employees whose duties took them into the muggle world. The only ones who were permitted, outside emergencies, to venture there. The perfect setup.
That meant that to investigate, they'd have to follow the suspects into the muggle world. Hermione wasn't looking forward to that. Not at all. She knew practically nothing about muggles.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
London, Diagon Alley, August 12th, 1999, 23.58 hours
Diagon Alley's lower part looked to be ablaze when Hermione arrived with her team, and with every Wand that could be spared. For a moment, she was shocked - and judging by the curses and exclamations uttered by the other Wands, so were her comrades. Then her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit scene, and she realised that just a few buildings were burning, thick smoke obscuring the rest. Dozens of screaming people were fleeing while Aurors on brooms were trying to battle the fires.
Normal fires would have been put out by now - even the Aurors would have managed that, Hermione knew. Not those fires though. She saw a pillar of flame shoot up from the ruins of a shop and twist around to strike at one of the red-robed broom riders. "Fiendfyre," she muttered.
The Auror was too slow to dodge, and the fire leapt at his broom, then onto his robes. For a horrible moment, both man and broom were on fire, shooting through the night sky, then the broom turned to ashes and the burning Auror fell down, crashing into a roof.
She stared, then shook her head. She had a task to do. They all had. A quick Amplifying Charm later, her voice rang over the screams and noise: "Wands! First Squad, Get the civilians to safety! Second Squad, create firebreaks! Third Squad, cover us in case the attackers are still around!"
The Wands jumped to obey, herding the panicked civilians away. Hermione knew she'd be reprimanded later for taking charge of the Wands, but someone had to. "Dean, Colin - with me!"
Her two teammates fell in with her while she made her way towards the closest fire. Fire breaks would protect the rest of the street - provided someone didn't spread more Fiendfyre - but there were houses behind those, untouched still.
They passed a few stragglers dragging trunks and in one case carrying a habitat filled with puffskeins. She saw one wizard's hair start to burn, just from the heat of the fire he was running from. "Douse yourselves!" she shouted.
"Aguamenti!"
Soaked, they continued, but they couldn't get as close as Hermione had hoped - the fire was simply too hot. Then a snake shaped out of magical fire jumped at them, stopped at the last second by a hastily conjured barrier.
"Fall back!"
A couple more Aguamentis drove the fire back, but the fire was already spreading to other houses, licking at the roofs and walls. Broom riders tried to keep the flames at bay with water, but the fire was too strong. Water wouldn't help… they had to smother the flames. Sand… if they could transfigure and conjure enough sand they could do it.
She ran towards the Wand-Leader incharge of the evacuation. They'd need every wand on this if they wanted to save this part of the street.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
London, Diagon Alley, August 13th, 1999, 15.48 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione stared at the ruins of almost a dozen houses. Hours after the fires they hadn't been able to smother had finally burned out, smoke still rose from the remains, and ash covered most of the street. She'd stayed to the end, then had slept for a few hours, before returning, and she still felt exhausted. And angry. A bit ahead, Colin was taking pictures, but the youngest member of her team wasn't showing much of his usual enthusiasm for his work either. Dean wasn't around yet - he was visiting a friend who had been hurt in St. Mungo's. Officially, he was getting a statement, of course. The Minister had left already, after getting her report. Fortunately, she hadn't had to use Occlumency to hide her illegal plans this time.
"Hermione!"
Upon hearing the familiar voice, the Wand-Leader turned around. Luna Lovegood was waving at her from behind the barriers holding gawkers back. Hermione smiled and made her way to the barrier, letting the blonde witch and her oversized scroll of parchment through.
"You're OK!" Luna shouted while hugging her tightly.
"I sent you an owl, silly," she answered, chuckling. Luna's concern felt good. Not many outside the Wands would care about her.
"You just wrote you were fine. That doesn't mean you weren't hurt!" Pouting, Luna released her and looked her over. "You're not hiding wounds under that robe, are you?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. I wasn't around when the attack happened, I was just there for the aftermath."
"You missed the dragon then!"
"Dragon?" Hermione asked, before she remembered her friend's theory that there was a dragon loose in Britain. Just like her father, Luna stuck to her theories. Sometimes the muggleborn witch wondered how Luna would have turned out if her mother hadn't died. Would they still have become best friends?
"Yes. The same dragon that attacked Malfoy Manor has now struck against Diagon Alley!" Luna nodded and scribbled down a few notes.
"We're not certain if it was a dragon," Hermione said. "Fiendfyre was involved."
"A dragon using the Dark Arts? That's new! Headline material for certain!" Luna nodded, and scribbled some more. Hermione, thinking that an attack on Diagon Alley would have been headline material anyway - didn't comment. Everyone knew the Quibbler had its own take on the world. Or on reality. But the Minister liked it.
The Wand-Leader waited while Luna finished her notes, letting her gaze wander over the crowd of spectators. Most of them were gawking at the ruins, afraid or shocked. Some though looked grim, angry. Others sad. Some were crying - they either had lost a house, or a loved one there, she assumed. Then she spotted a familiar face. Antoine. Dupont.
He had seen her as well, and started to walk towards her. She smiled, despite the situation and their surroundings.
"Hermione," he said, nodding at her in sort of almost-bow.
"Antoine." She was still smiling, she realized.
"Hermione? Antoine?" Luna piped up. "Oh! You're the mystery wizard from Québec, who met her on the field of battle and conquered her heart!" She was beaming at them both, and peering at Antoine with unabashed curiosity. "I'm Luna. Luna Lovegood," she said, before Hermione could introduce her. "Hermione told me so much about you!"
"Enchanté, Miss Lovegood," the Québécois said, displaying good manners despite his obvious surprise.
"She's my best friend," Hermione explained. She wanted to rein Luna in, but she knew from long experience that nothing short of a Silencing Charm would stop the blonde. And she'd not do that to Luna. Hopefully he'd not get mad at either of them.
He looked surprised while Luna happily nodded. "I'm her only pureblood friend too. Or was, until you came along. The rest are afraid of her. Silly, isn't it? There's no need to be afraid of her. Unless you're a criminal. You're no criminal, aren't you?"
Hermione's other pureblood friend shook his head. "No, I'm no criminal." Then he grinned. "Well, now she's got two pureblood friends. We're outnumbering her."
Luna giggled while Hermione shook her head in amusement. The wizard turned serious soon though. "I'm glad you were not hurt in this… " He made a gesture towards the ruins.
"Dragon attack."
"What?"
"It was a dragon attack. By a dragon using the Dark Arts. Probably possessed by some Dark Lord's ghost." Luna was nodding to herself while she explained her theory.
Antoine was staring at the blonde, then at Hermione. The Wand-Leader shook her head. "So far we have found no proof of a dragon attack."
"Yet. The dragon would have hidden his trace well, since he obviously can hide from the Ministry easily, or he would have been found already. He can probably eat memories. Or change his color to appear like a rock."
The wizard seemed amused now, and Hermione narrowed her eyes, suddenly feeling very protective of Luna. If he made fun of her…
He didn't. "Maybe. Though whatever he can do, I'm certain Hermione will find him."
Luna emphatically agreed with that, and Hermione felt touched by the trust shown. "We'll find whoever did this, and end them."
Antoine cocked his head slightly while he studied the ruins. "The attackers didn't stay and fight then, or you'd have caught or killed some. Hit and run from the air? Like dragons," he added, with a smile for Luna.
Hermione wondered if he had seen similar attacks, in the War in Québec. "It looks like it." She shouldn't tell him that, it was an open investigation, and he was no Wand, but… he already knew what had happened. And he might offer her some insight. A Wand did whatever duty required, after all. And that included talking to charming foreigners. She nodded towards the untouched part of the street. "Would you like, ah… The café there serves very good tea."
"Ah. Aren't you on duty?" Antoine looked surprised.
"I spent the whole night fighting the fires. I'm still on overtime, technically," she answered, a trifle too defensive. Maybe he didn't want to...
"Oh, yes! Let's take a break together! I want to find out everything about my best friend's paramour!" Luna started to drag both of them towards the café.
Hermione exchanged a glance with Antoine. He seemed more nervous than amused now. She grinned - it was usually she who had that effect on people, not Luna.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
London, Diagon Alley, August 13th, 1999, 16.15 hours
"... and that's why I believe the dragon is hiding in Wales, filling the ecological niche left by the absence of the Welsh Greens. Since he's filling a niche, no one has spotted him yet, because they are looking for a dragon, not a niche."
Ron Weasley, sitting in what the French would call a pathetic imitation of a café, felt quite confused by Hermione's friend Luna Lovegood. 'Quirky' didn't even come close to describe the blonde's flights of fancy. He couldn't tell if 'dragon' was her code word for 'Dark Lord', or if she honestly believed there was a dragon in Britain, hiding and using the Dark Arts. His parents must have downplayed the Lovegoods' eccentricities a lot in their tales of the Burrow.
He glanced over to Hermione, who seemed to take the whole story in stride. A surprising stance from the witch, whom he had thought was very logical and as sharp as a Cutting Curse. "How did you two become friends?" he asked, before he thought about how pushy that might sound.
He saw Hermione stiffen for a second, then take a deep breath, but Luna was already talking. "Oh, it happened soon after I started school. I felt very lonely, and some girls were infected by Nargles, and started picking on me. Hermione cured them of the infection though, once she found out."
"Nargles?"
"Small invisible animals that hide in the hair of people and influence them so they start stealing," Hermione said.
"Not really invisible, just hard to see unless you have just the right angle," Luna corrected her, tapping the corners of her eyes. "They can be scared away by dirigible plums and cork, and by Hermione."
"I think I scared the girls they had infected more." Ron could see Hermione smirked a bit when she said that.
"Hermione can be very scary," Luna whispered conspiratorially while she leaned towards Ron. "But she's a really nice witch, no matter what the purebloods say."
"Ah." Ron nodded. "Did you get in trouble for that?"
Hermione shook her head. "No." She seemed to hesitate a second, then continued. "They had broken the rules, so if they had complained, they would have been punished."
"Despite it being the fault of the Nargles," Luna added. "School rules are really unfair when it concerns Nargles."
"I see." Ron didn't, really, but it seemed the best answer. "So, afterwards, you were friends?"
"Best friends, yes!" Luna nodded so forcefully, her head was bobbing up and down. "We're so close, I don't need cork or dirigible plums to scare away the Nargles, she does that much better. She's so scary!" Hermione's smile slipped a bit, and Luna giggled. "They made me a prefect too, because of her."
"Oh?" Ron hadn't thought muggleborns had that kind of influence at Hogwarts. Not in Malfoy's Britain.
"Both prefects and future Wands patrol the school and enforce the rules," Hermione said.
"She was really good at enforcing the rules, everyone said so. Even when she was just a first year," Luna cut in. Ron had a brief vision of a pint-sized Hermione scolding much older students.
Hermione chuckled, and continued: "So the teachers tend to choose prefects who don't cause friction with us."
Luna nodded. "They don't always succeed though. Malfoy caused a lot of friction." She frowned.
"Luna!" Hermione sounded scandalized.
"He did!" The blonde witch insisted. She turned to Ron. "He was always bothering the wands, especially the… ow!" She pouted at Hermione. Ron hadn't heard the witch casting, but Luna was rubbing her side and Hermione had just withdrawn her elbow.
"The Minister's son's time at Hogwarts isn't a topic we should talk about," the Wand-Leader said primly.
Ron nodded, though he was certain it was a topic he should find out more about. "So, you spent a lot of your time with Hermione and the other future Wands?"
Luna nodded. "I spent most of my time with Hermione, and since she couldn't visit the Ravenclaw Tower, I usually visited the Barracks. That's the dorm for the Wands."
"They're not actual barracks," her friend explained. "They're a dorm like the others in Hogwarts proper, just newer."
"And smaller. But they're cozier too. And they have their own library too. I wasn't allowed to visit it, but it mostly contains books about Defense anyway, and not about the more interesting topics, such as Magical Creatures, so I didn't mind much."
"Well, you had your own exclusive library in Ravenclaw Tower," Hermione said, and her tone gave Ron the impression that she had minded not being able to visit that library.
Luna nodded. She bent towards him again, and added in a whisper: "I used to sneak books from there to her, you know! If you ever need to apologise for something, do not bother with chocolate or garden gnomes, give her a new book. It might save your life!"
"Luna! You make it sound as if I would do anything for a book!" Hermione huffed.
"You wouldn't?" Luna asked, then giggled at the other witch's expression.
Ron joined her, chuckling. Hermione glared at both of them, but seemed to fight a smile herself. For a moment, Ron felt as if he was back in France, chatting with friends. Then he reminded himself that he was on a mission, and that at least one of the two witches sitting there would do her best to kill him if she knew that. He managed to keep smiling, and felt even worse for it.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
London, Diagon Alley, August 13th, 1999, 16.45 hours
Wand-Leader Hermione was happy. Happier than she had a right to be, she thought guiltily, with a glance back at the ruins up the street. But she loved spending time with Luna, especially these days, with deluded dark wizards attacking her country, and Antoine… she took a sip from her cup to mask her smile. He was charming, witty, and lacking both arrogance and fear when talking with her. She wasn't used to purebloods acting like that. Apart from Luna, but her friend was a special case. Maybe that was why she found the Québécois so attractive.
"You were in the muggle world? Did you see many of their animals? They are so fascinating, so exotic. We're doing a series on them, in the Quibbler, about the differences between them and the magical creatures. Some purebloods actually think muggles are animals, can you imagine?" The blonde witch in question was chatting animatedly, gesturing with both hands.
"Well, I've been to the zoo," Antoine said.
"Oh? I've wanted to visit it, but it's scary, since it's full of muggles."
"I haven't had any trouble with muggles," Antoine said.
Hermione couldn't tell if he was honest, or simply didn't want to discuss such an ugly topic with them. She had to know though, even if she felt guilty at using Antoine like that, for her own aims. "How did you manage that?" she said, cutting in.
"Manage what?" Antoine asked.
"Avoid trouble with the muggles."
"Ah. It's not that hard. If you wear muggle clothes, and don't use magic, you're generally fine. If you don't know how to act, you can act as a tourist, and they'll help you." Antoine smiled.
That sounded far too simple. Muggles couldn't be that stupid. "Posing as a foreign muggle seems even more difficult," she said. He probably didn't know, being a foreigner himself.
"There are so many muggles around the world, they can't know everyone's country." He leaned forward with a grin. "Are you thinking of going on a trip into muggle London?"
"Regulations prevent that," she said. It was true, even though her duty forced her to track the Obliviators into muggle England.
"It's a pity. I'm sure you'd look cute in muggle clothes."
She blushed, thinking of the pictures she had seen, of muggle clothes, in that magazine she had confiscated in Hogwarts. To walk around like that… Although, she could check the archives, for similar magazines, and get an idea of how to dress. Just in case her shadowing the Obliviators didn't go according to plan. "I like my robes," she said, finally.
"She is very proud of them," Luna said, nodding. "Youngest Wand-Leader ever!"
Hermione spotted a familiar face entering the café. Marietta Edgecombe. She could see the sneer forming on the witch's face when the former Ravenclaw spotted Luna, and how she froze when she saw Hermione. The Wand-Leader smiled and pulled a lock of her hair out, twisting it slightly. Edgecombe turned around at once and left. Who'd have thought that a single Medusa's Curse would leave such a lasting impression?
Sadly, it was time to leave for her as well. Accumulated overtime or not, she had her duty. And yet, when it came to say her goodbyes, she hesitated. "So… do you want to … do this again?" She almost bit her lower lip while asking, and waiting for his answer. But she was a Wand-Leader. She faced worse things than a possible rejection.
"Ah, yes. Yes." Antoine smiled.
Hermione wasn't certain if his slight hesitation was a good or a bad sign. It could mean he didn't really want to, and was just being polite, or it could mean he wasn't just repeating lines he said to any pretty witch.
But she knew she wanted to meet him again.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
London, August 17th, 1999, 19.41 hours
Ron Weasley swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, checked for a tail, both with his eyes and with his enchanted glasses, then walked across the street and to the small house, one in a row of similar ones. Old, but not decrepit. Worn.
He pressed the bell, and waited, trying not to think of what kind of contraption was currently aimed at him, in case he was an enemy. Finally, the door was opened. "There you are!", a brown-haired man with a thick mustache said, bidding him to enter. Fred. Or George. Even without a disguise, it was hard to tell them apart.
"Tonks informed us about your 'progress'. A real James Bond, aren't you?" his brother said, grinning like a loon.
"I'm no James Bond."
"Well, someone has to be him, since Q is already taken, Tonks is a girl, and Percy certainly couldn't be Bond. So, you're him by default."
"We're not using those code names." Even British purebloods would catch on.
"Just internally. So, did you bring them?"
Ron opened the muggle-style jacket he wore, part of his disguise, and handed the box to his brother. "We collected them yesterday, and replaced them."
"Ah, there you are, my little bugs!" Fred whispered, opening the box as he led Ron downstairs. "Show me all the naughty things you saw!"
Ron rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything. It would just encourage his brothers. They entered the cellar, where his other brother was bent over a smoking cauldron. The room was cluttered with various devices that Ron didn't recognize, but assumed were far more dangerous than they looked.
"Fred! Ron finally decided to visit us, and brought us a gift!" George, assuming he wasn't messing with Ron, said.
"Ah, he managed at last to tear himself away from the Wand-Leader he seduced in the line of duty?"
Ron decided that he needed to get back at Tonks, and soon.
●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●
Argelès-sur-Mer, France, August 17th, 1999, 21.04 hours
"We will be entering the country through the vanishing cabinet the Weasley brothers have set up. I have procured fake identities for us which should stand up to the scrutiny of the muggle authorities, so we will be able to move freely in muggle Britain, to pinpoint our targets." Albus Dumbledore was smiling as he explained the plan in the living room of Sirius's and Harry's house.
Sirius Black didn't seem impressed though, judging by his frown. Harry's godfather was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "Are you certain that this is safe? With the Dark Lord attacking, Lucius's brainwashed muggleborns should be ready to apparate at a moment's notice to deal with any threat."
"They are restricted to Wizarding Britain, as Harry's friends have found out. Since Lucius has isolated the country from muggles, his control over muggle Britain has been greatly reduced. His people can maintain the Statute of Secrecy, but are hardly capable of finding enemies hiding among the muggles," Albus said.
"Unless you attract their attention with magic. That's how they are finding the muggleborns."
"They are looking for accidental magic and spells. Enchanted items, like brooms, and cloaks of invisibility, can be used safely," Albus answered. "We have tested that."
"I still don't like it," Sirius muttered.
"You don't like me taking part in this. If it was just you you'd jump at the chance to strike back at Voldemort and Lucius," Harry said, glaring at Sirius.
Sirius glared back, but didn't answer.
"I'm an adult. My friends are already in Britain, risking their lives." Harry scoffed.
"And their parents are going spare."
Albus winced. Molly Weasley's reaction to the decision of four of her sons to infiltrate Britain hadn't been pretty or quiet. The witch had raised her children in the belief that they would one day return to their ancestral home, but she obviously hadn't wanted that day to arrive so soon.
Albus coughed, to draw the attention of the two wizards before further words were said in anger. He could claim, honestly, that Harry was indispensable for this task, but that would not do the situation justice. "You were younger than Harry when you joined the first war, Sirius."
Harry smiled, and his godfather's frown deepened. "As were my friends, and we know how that turned out for them."
Albus knew that all too well. James and Lily, murdered. Peter, turned traitor, and Remus vanished. If not for the need to take care of Harry, Sirius would have been killed in a brave but ultimately futile fight, of that Albus had no doubt.
"Besides, you are one to talk! At least Malfoy doesn't want me dead. Both he and Voldemort want to kill you for your inheritance," the young wizard said, standing up and facing his godfather. "You're in twice the danger I am."
"I've also got twice your experience." Sirius pushed off from the wall and stepped closer to his godson. His son in all but blood.
"Remember that witch who tried to kill you, five years ago?" Harry said, referring to a rather clumsy attempt at assassination. Albus still didn't know if Lucius had actually been behind that; the witch in question hadn't remembered who had sent her.
"I had the situation well in hand," Sirius claimed. He also had toned down his womanizing though, since that incident.
"Children, please. As touching as your need to keep each other safe is, we are at war. Far too many people depend on us to squabble like this." Albus hated to do this, hated to send young people into harm's way, but needs must. A lot of the exiled British wizards talked about how they would take their homes back. An impressively large part of them would take up their wands if Albus asked, but few among them were capable of the kind of deeds the war effort needed right now. Sirius and Harry were among them.
There hadn't been any choice where Harry was concerned. The prophecy clearly said the boy would be facing Voldemort, so he needed all the training and help he could get. But his friends… if not for Albus encouraging them, teaching them, would they be so eager and willing to enter the war? Was it right to let the brightest and bravest risk their lives for people they did not even know? Where did teaching turn into manipulating?
The two younger wizards stared at each other without saying a word. Finally, Sirius opened his arms, and the two embraced.
Albus kept a smile on his face while he tried to deal with his guilt.
A/N: Thanks for reading and please vote and comment!