Vox Corporis: Rebirth

Vox Corporis: Rebirth

Chapter 87

“Discoveries and Sadnesses”



Original story by -> MissAnnThropic

http://fanfiction.portkey.org/story/6586/1

Email: miss_annthropic@yahoo.com



Pursuant to the Berne Convention Implementation Act of 1988 and the Digital Millennium Copywrite Act of 1998, this work is copywrited 2007 with all rights expressly reserved by its author unless explicitly granted. No portion may be reproduced in any fashion without the express written and notarized permission of the author.



Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. All characters are creations of Joanne K Rowling, © 2007, to whom I am deeply indebted.



CONTENT Disclaimer: This story contains sexually graphic and explicit material and as such, it is not suitable for minors. If you are a minor, please leave now, as it is illegal for you to be here. If it is illegal for you to read or view sexually explicit material in the community you view such material, please leave now. This story and characters are purely fictional and any resemblance to events or persons (living or dead) is purely coincidental. If you are offended by sexually explicit stories, please read no further. If you are offended by stories featuring group sex, bisexual situations, incest, or any other situation, please check the story code before reading the text. These stories are just that, stories, and do not promote or condone the activities described herein



In Gratia: The original story was created so beautifully and so powerfully by MissAnnThropic. I owe a huge debt of gratitude to her for her kindness in letting me ‘play in her sandbox’.



Note One: To those of you who reviewed my last chapter – THANK YOU! I was really flattered by your support and the encouragement you have all given me.



Note two: This story has 19, 652 words, consisting 42 pages of actual text. I write in Palatino, 11-point type, with 1” margins.



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From Chapter 86 “Thankfulness and yet, Sorrow”



Hermione had seen it, but had not been as quick to add two and two. It was McGonagall’s reaction which confirmed it for the Head Girl. “Oh, you scamp! One word of this and you’ll be doing detention from now until eternity, I’ll see to it!”



Her exaggerated threat to Harry set Hermione and Harry rolling with laughter for several minutes.



Even Albus Dumbledore was not immune to the humor of the moment. He turned to his companion, friend, and lover. “I think the muggle term is ‘busted’ “– a comment that set her laughing, despite her vain attempts not to do so.



Eventually, sufficient control was restored by all parties present, final plans were made to accomplish Rowena’s heroic sacrifice. Further plans were set in place to contact St. Mungo’s, in order to discuss the impending availability of the rarest of all gifts and it’s potential applicability in healing one of their long-term care patients. It had been a long day, but well worthwhile, Harry thought, as he and his beloved, used their private portkey to return to their private sanctuary.

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Chapter 87 - “Sorrow and then Joy and then Sorrow Again.”



Headmaster’s office; Wednesday, Oct. 16th, 6:45 Am.



There was a reason that rituals were never, ever taught at Hogwarts. They were dangerous. Even the lest complex rituals could cause irreparable damage to the witch or wizard who was performing the ritual and the most complex rituals could undo thousands of years worth of work building wards or hiding the very existence of magic itself.



It was that fear and trepidation which made the Headmaster proceed so carefully as he considered what must be done in order to assist Hermione and Rowena in completing the Sanguis Ritual.



Pacing his outer office, he stopped for a moment to gaze out one of the windows. The sun was just rising over the eastern hills as he looked out. The Headmaster’s office was still in the shadow of Gryffindor Tower, but he knew that soon, the sun would start to swing to the northeast and eventually light up his office. He could see the tops of the far western hills that surrounded the lake and he knew that if he looked long enough, he’d probably see one of the few Hebridean green dragons that lived in the area. Their presence was tolerated only because they had never shown any inclination towards violence and no students were aware of them (or even allowed to be aware of them).



The first thing that had to be done was to contact the Goblin artisans who dealt with fine crystal creations. Harry had initially insisted in picking up the costs, whatever they might be, but desisted when the Headmaster told him, gently but firmly, that it was a cost that the House of Gryffindor would bear and that the funds would come from the almost endless pile of galleons which had been amassed in the founders’ vault.



The Headmaster smiled to himself as he considered the almost petulant look on Harry’s face as he left the office. The younger, more willful Harry – the one that had gone charging to Sirius’ rescue – came to mind. Albus Dumbledore had to remind himself that while Harry was seventeen, married, and therefore an ‘adult’ in wizarding society, he was still a young man and had a young man’s ideas about what could and should be done. Truth be told, Harry was at an interesting crossroad, because at seventeen, he had already had to contend with some of the worst things that life could hand him and had survived, more or less spiritually and emotionally intact.



As he walked up the stairs, towards his inner office - the sanctum sanctorum – he ruminated about what it might take for Harry to take his next steps, emotionally. Already, he and Hermione formed the most powerful magical couple since Merlin and Morgana, but they lacked much of their predecessors’ collective wisdom.



Pushing the door open, Dumbledore felt the warmth of Fawkes’ magic fill him once again and gave a silent prayer of thanks for the fates which had brought the blessed bird to his side.



Three long strides took the Headmaster to his familiars’ side. Reaching out to run a gentle finger along the phoenixes’ back, he said, “Hello, Fawkes. Miss me much?”



Fawkes looked at him, nodded, and then lifted a talon; which was the sign that he had always used when he want to be up on the Headmasters’ arm. Dumbledore trailed his finger down the phoenix’s back and then held it in front of him, so that the magical bird could step up onto it. It took just a moment after that for the immortal creature to nestle into the crook of the Headmasters’ left arm and lay its head on the Headmaster’s chest.



Once he was sure that his familiar was safe and comfortable, Dumbledore turned and walked towards the plush armchair which sat in the back, left-hand corner of the room, near the fire. He then sat and let Fawkes share the warmth of the fire as well as the warmth of his aging body.



Speaking into the air, as well as to Fawkes, the Headmaster said, “I wonder what the Goblins are going to want back this time, in exchange for creating the crystal containers. The last time I had to go through this, they wanted the Sword.”



The phoenix seemed to settle in; resting his not inconsiderable weight against Dumbledore’s left side. His eyes were whirling slowly; as if to suggest that he was ruminating on what the Headmaster had just been rambling on about.

Just then, a shadow crossed the threshold of the sanctum sanctorum and Dumbledore looked up; smiling. “Hello, Minni. Come in.”



There was a momentary pause and then the Headmistress-presumptive crossed the five meters between the doorway and the corner, where he was sitting with Fawkes. Once she got to him, she bent over and kissed him gently. “I never get tired of seeing the two of you together, Albus. The two of you together are my image of Hogwarts.”



Albus looked up, with a smile that he reserved for her, only, and said something he had not said before; in the long years they had been friends and then lovers. “I love you, Minerva.” Like Harry’s love for Hermione, Minerva McGonagall had known for some time that Albus loved her, but he had taken a very long time to say it. Hearing it was both a shock and a relief.



She leaned close to him again, so that their lips were just about brushing each others’ and said “and I, Albus, have always loved you.” Then she closed the gap and kissed him more passionately, and for considerably longer.



When she finally broke the kiss, she looked and saw that Fawkes’ eyes were whirling a deep, vibrant red. It wasn’t a scary red, but rather a red that spoke of love and desire and probably reflected well what was going on in her lovers’ thoughts.



Though they had never used legilimency on each other, nor had ever tried to exchange thoughts in any way, except by pensieve, because of their prior worries about ‘appearances of impropriety’, she wondered if it wasn’t getting to the point when it was a good idea for her to know what was in his thoughts. There was much that he had encountered as Headmaster that she might want to know some day, but not be able to recall, because she hadn’t become intimate with him in that way.



She had been shocked and amazed, not two nights before, when she had learned of what Harry and Hermione had done – using the powerful magic in elf tears – to bind their thoughts together. It was an astonishing bit of magic and one that she figured only Hermione would have cottoned to. It allowed the Head Boy and Girl to do things and work together in a way that James and Lily certainly never had together nor, she figured, any other Head Boy/Girl couple in Hogwarts history. What amazed her more was that while having such an ability – the ability to look into your life-partners’ thoughts and get an answer to a problem – would permit an amazing about of cheating, neither Harry nor Hermione seemed to have even one qualm about shutting the other’s thoughts out during an exam.



Hermione had explained that in the muggle world, cheating of any type during an exam was grounds for instant expulsion and they, as muggle-borns, took that admonishment very much to heart. Harry seemed particularly tough on the point; insisting that he wanted to earn his own grades and make Hermione proud of him.



It would have been tempting to sit down in the Headmaster\'s lap – in just the same way as she used to do when she was a student at Hogwarts and had a boyfriend – and spend some quality time kissing him, but she had not come to the Headmasters’ office for a snog-fest. That, she thought happily, could come afterwards.



“Albus – while I am happy as a schoolgirl at the thought of spending my afternoon kissing you, I need you to tell me how we are going to handle all of the things that have been thrown into our laps. I’m looking ahead and realizing that if we are not careful, the entire school could be thrown into chaos because of what’s happening with Molly, Rowena, and now Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Weasley. If we’re not careful, we could have an outbreak of seventh-year girls earning their MRS degrees before they get their NEWTs.”



Dumbledore nodded and then smiled, understandingly. “It will pass, Minni. It’s because of Harry and Hermione. Once they’re graduated and gone, things should settle back down. Until then, though, you can expect that at least one other couple – and perhaps two – will be getting married. My galleons are on Ms. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom announcing after Mr. Weasley and Ms. Lovegood are married.”



As the Deputy Headmistress, the responsibility for Student Affairs – which was definitely a portfolio in search of a better title - fell to her. As she saw it, the rash of engagements as a product of the war, and she figured that she probably ought to be thinking about what was going to happen with all of the students who were in school with Harry and Hermione – and that included everyone, even the first-years. The example set by the Head Boy and Girl was going to have a ‘carry-over’ effect, even if they never intended to have it happen.



There were romances budding all over the school. It wasn’t just the seventh-years. Ethan James du LaCroix, a sixth-year, and Kim Chong had gotten together, as had Celeste du Bertrand with Ryan Christopher. Her sister, Isabella, had been seen in the company of Rys Mayne – a Canadian student who had transferred to Hogwarts from the Whistler Mountain School of Magic in British Columbia. The list of known couples as well as suspected couples was getting longer as the months progressed and she didn’t really know where it would end. She was sure, however, that another reproductive biology class would have to be taught, and sooner was better than later.



“Albus, so long as there are no babies born at the school, I’m content. I will, however, insist that you allow me to schedule and teach another round of classes on reproductive biology and contraceptive magic. Better to be safe than sorry.”



For that, the Headmaster had no disagreements. She was right in thinking that a pregnancy would disrupt the school – even if it was one of the seventh-year students who ended up expecting. The Deputy Headmistress wondered, idly, whether she ought to have a talk with her Head Girl about that very issue. Certainly, Harry’s wealth could and would sustain not just one, but hundreds of children, were he to choose to father that many, but she wondered if Hermione was game to be pregnant so soon. It might be worth asking, she thought.



A quiet cough from the Headmaster re-focused her attention to the matters at hand. Touching her arm, Dumbledore let her feel the strength of his grip, as well as his magic, and it caused her own magic to spring up, in happy response. The effect of his touch on her loins was as immediate as it was pleasurable. “Minni?” he said quietly, “There’s no reason we couldn’t continue this conversation somewhere more private.”



She looked at him, seated as he was in the soft, cushioned armchair, and she saw both love and desire in his eyes.



“Hmmm. What time is it, anyway?”



In fiery letters, the numbers “6:55 Am.” glowed for a moment in mid-air, and then faded away. “It seems we have at least an hour before we have to be at breakfast, so I think I will join you”, she said in her best, sultry voice.



Fawkes realized that he was about to be displaced, so he disappeared from where he had been resting and re-appeared on his special perch, in the Headmasters’ outer office. Taking their cue from the beautiful familiar, the two lovers joined hands around a small, glowing blue ball, and disappeared.

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Seventh-year Common Room, Gryffindor Tower, Wednesday, Oct. 16th, 8:15 Am.



As was so often the case, Ron and Luna, Ginny and Neville, and Harry and Hermione were gathered in the Gryffindor common room, to talk about the things that only they – the six of them – knew about. For this particular meeting, Cho had been invited, but unable to attend, because of pressing issues at work, while Dennis Creevy was too young to be included. It was just as well, Harry thought, as he and Hermione silently conversed about what they were going to say to the other four.



The discussion, while they had all been at breakfast, was about Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and how the twins seemed to be on a path that would make them the largest and most influential business in Diagon Alley, save for Gringotts itself. Ron had talked about how, according to his brothers, Ignatius Ollivander, the son of the late Mr. Ollivander, told them that his father had never done more than a decent business because making and selling wands was such a personal business, but that he longed to branch out and do something new. The discussion inevitably led towards fake wands, Canary Creams, and other things that the twins had invented. They might still have been talking about some of the things that Fred and George had come up with if Hermione had not stood up and started to unbutton her blouse, right in the middle of the group.



Harry could do nothing but laugh as he realized what Hermione was doing: finding out how long it took for them to realize what was going on and pay attention to what she might have said. True to form, it was Luna who caught on first. She stifled a giggle as she watched Hermione begin to undress. Ginny caught on, too, as did Neville. By the time that Neville realized what was happening right in the middle of the room, Hermione was down four buttons and a good bit of her lacy, white silk bra had been revealed. Ron was, as always, the last to catch on. When he did though, his face went about as scarlet as it seemed humanly possible to become.



Winking at him, Hermione acknowledged that her job was done and began buttoning up as Harry stood to address the group.



“That was awesome, love. If they only knew what you are wearing for knickers, they’d all be waiting with baited breath.”



Hermione’s reply to Harry’s commentary on her knickers was predictable. “Oh hush, you. The only person who gets to see my knickers is you...and only if you behave yourself.”



To her credit, she regretted saying it the moment she thought it to him; because she felt the almost instant hurt that sprang up in him. His eyes spoke volumes about the hurt that he had felt, and she realized that her attempt at humor had gone wrong.



“I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean…” She didn’t need to finish the thought. Harry knew she hadn’t meant to hurt him. She had tried to make him laugh, because she had felt his mood shift to one of ‘possessive husband’ and she had tried to tease him about it…but had come off sounding like he had done something really wrong and she was punishing him for it. She knew that punishing him for loving her so strongly was exactly the opposite of what she should ever feel. In that moment, Harry felt her sorrow for the comment and forgave her completely for it.



“It’s alright, Hermione. I know you didn’t mean it. I love you.”



“I don’t deserve you, Harry.”



It was in that instant, when Harry pulled her to him, that the Nimbus lumens Amor sprang up again and surrounded them with its golden glow. “Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. You must feel the Force around you; here, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere”. Hermione almost broke out laughing as she heard the quote playing out from one of her favorite movies, in the perfect, Dolby sound that only two minds connected can share.



“Only you, Harry, would quote Yoda to me in quite that way.” Her mind was full of his laughter, as he let her go and she moved to sit down in the oversized loveseat which the two of them favored.



Neville, Ginny, Ron, and Luna all seemed like they wanted to ask about the sudden appearance of the Nimbus lumens Amor, but their questions were pre-empted and died aborning.



Harry looked at each of his friends, and especially at Ron and Ginny, before speaking. “Ok. Now that I’ve got your attention – thank you, Hermione” the five of them laughed as Harry grinned at her “I wanted to tell you that I’ve had some time to think about what has happened to Molly. Obviously, something’s definitely not right about the situation. I’d ask both of you the same questions…about whether you’ve ever seen your mother get violent before…but I suspect that I’d get back the same answer. ‘No’.”



Harry paced back and forth for a couple of steps before turning again to his friends. “I believe that we should be thinking about what has happened to her in the last eighteen months. Something – a curse, a potion, something has gotten to her. Otherwise, her behavior – not to mention her attitude towards me and Hermione – is unexplainable.”



Ginny piped up “Harry, what’s our plan, then? I know that when we were seeing my Dad, Fred, and George, we talked about what’s going to happen at the Ministry, but you didn’t say much about we’re going to do, after that. I can’t speak for Ron, Luna, or Neville, but I trust you and Hermione. I’ll do what you ask.”



A warm smile played across Harry’s mouth and eyes. “Thank you, Ginny. I have to believe that we have to be prepared for the worst, while hoping for the best. Ron, Luna…you two are going to be married soon, and there is a Weasley family gathering planned for the day after Thanksgiving. I wish I knew what Dumbledore had in mind with that celebration…but he says it’s a big deal in the States and that it seemed like a good idea, so he’s doing it. Anyway – Charlie, Bill, the twins, and the two of you will be here at the school, along with your parents. I get the feeling that if anything is going to happen, it will be either before or after that gathering. We have to be prepared for it.” Speaking directly to Ron and Ginny, Harry said, “I’m going to tell your father the same message, and I expect that he’ll agree. I believe – and Ron, you can tell me if you think I’m wrong – that we have to let things play out, but be ready to react. I think someone else is manipulating us from behind the scenes and this would be a good opportunity to ‘smoke out’ that person.”



“Good, Harry. Keep going.” Hermione whispered in his thoughts. “Tell them what you told me last night.”



Harry nodded imperceptibly, as if to acknowledge what Hermione had just asked him to do. “There’s much that has to be done and we don’t have a lot of time. Tomorrow, Hermione and I are going to be presented to the Wizengamot and will declare our intention to take our seats on Friday. The hope is that we will be able to influence how Molly’s trial is conducted and move the members to consider a directed verdict of guilty on one count of using a unforgivable upon a lesser magical creature, but with extenuating circumstances. We will then ask that she be confined to the long-term mental care ward at St. Mungo’s for a period of one to three years. There she will be able to get treatment and at the same time, perhaps be a help to the staff, as she recovers.”



Ginny and Ron looked horrified, while Luna looked somewhat serene. Ginny spoke up first and her voice was shaky. “Harry? That’s a long time. Why is having her found guilty, even if it’s only on one charge, a good thing?”



Hermione got out of the overstuffed loveseat where she had been reclining and went to Ginny’s side; making Ron bunch up, so that she could put her arms around the younger girl and comfort her.



“Well – it’s not. But it seems pretty clear that something’s wrong with her and she needs help.”



“But why can’t she just go to the hospital? Why does she have to go to trial and everything? She was just killing garden gnomes! Why are they going after her?”



Harry started pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, as Ginny talked. When she stopped, he turned and looked at her sympathetically. “I think that little stunt you guys pulled at the Prophet is largely to blame, Ginny. My bet is that the only reason that they’re going after your mother at all is because they can’t really get to any of you. However, that raid is also the reason that your mother will only be convicted on one count. Hermione’s been going all through the letters and documents that Luna took out of there and between the two of them – and Ron, you should know this already – Luna was able to translate all of the babble and jargon into things that made sense for Hermione. Hermione then took all of the numbers and created a very interesting document that shows how much money went into the paper to keep them from printing stuff that was damaging and how much money was paid out by the paper to people who had information to sell.”



Ron looked at his intended with love and admiration and felt her squeeze his hand in appreciation. He then reached over to Hermione and touched her face gently. It was as brotherly a touch as he had ever used with her and she leaned into his hand, to show him that she appreciated the affection.



Neville, who had been sitting quietly next to Ginny, looked at Harry in a way that made him understand that there was something that the younger Gryffindor wanted to know. “Neville?”



“Harry, I imagine that you might not want to answer this, but Ginny and Ron have a right to know.” His voice was not hesitant and it reminded Harry of when Neville had confronted them the night that they went to keep the Philosopher’s stone away from Tom. “What makes you and Hermione think that you two, by yourselves, can make the Wizengamot vote the way that you want them to? I mean…you’re our age and they have no reason to listen to you.”



Hermione peered around Ginny and looked at Neville. “It’s not us who the Wizengamot is going to listen to, Neville. I thought that was clear when we met with Arthur. Dumbledore is going to be sitting as the head judge, and Amelia Bones will be defending Molly. Dumbledore is going to fix it so that we’ll be able to present our credentials in enough time as to allow us to be impaneled and sit in judgment. In the muggle world, we’d not be able to do this. It would be called “a conflict of interests”, but the wizarding world doesn’t see it that way, so we’re going to take advantage of that to make sure that Molly has the best shot possible to get treated in the only place that’s really capable of taking care of her.”



Neville didn’t seem to be completely clear on the issues at hand, so he pressed on. “But why does she have to go through this at all? Isn’t there some way of getting her off or making the Minister for Magic pardon her or something? Why can’t Harry just go to him and make him do it?”



Harry looked at Neville – meeting eye to eye – and said, softly, “I wish I could, Neville. But all of my supposed fame and fortune doesn’t give me that kind of power. There’s something more going on. Whoever is pushing these charges must have had a pretty strong interest in protecting the Prophet and now that it’s gone, they’re scared and I’m betting that they’re seeking revenge. Molly is an easy target, because while the Weasleys are an old, respected family and, like yours Neville, they don’t have the resources to fight this kind of battle. There’s a lot of upside to going after Molly and not much down-side. Hermione can tell you all the details, but it boils down to this: Fudge, who was the one who paid the most to the Prophet, to keep them printing stuff that hurt me and Hermione early on, is immune, because he was in office when he did it. There are others, though, who currently have seats on the Wizengamot, who don’t want that information to come out, because they went along with what Fudge was doing. It would be highly embarrassing for them. That’s our ace in the hole.”



Neville paused, and thought about what his friend had just said. Then a light seemed to turn on for him and he nodded his understanding. “Ok. I get it. Then what can I do? I am feeling pretty useless right now.”



Hermione smiled at Neville and then pushed Ginny towards him. “Take care of Ginny. Protect her and show her how much you love her. If you do that, it will allow us to handle the rest. If we’re worried that they – whoever ‘they’ is – are going to take a run at Ginny, then we’ll not be as effective in getting Molly the treatment that she needs.”



Ginny made as if to protest that she was not some lame flower that had to be protected, but Neville reached out with stronger-than-expected hands and pulled her to him. In his arms, she desisted.



Hermione then stood and looked at the group. “Ron, there’s something else that doesn’t feel right to me. Do you know if your mother was ever taught the dark arts? Is there a relative somewhere in your family who might have known how to cast an unforgivable? We need to know that. If you can get your mother out of the house – and I mean for at least four hours – a good top-to-bottom search might be in order.”



Ron nodded his understanding. “I’ll do it, Harry. Question, though: how are we going to keep this from my father?”



Hermione looked at him, her hands intertwining with Harry’s as she spoke. “You’re not, Ron. I’m tired of lies and we’re tired of people not knowing the whole truth. People hiding things – like Dumbledore, to be blunt about it – was what almost got us all killed by Tom. We weren’t prepared and we weren’t aware of what we were really facing. The only reason we beat him is because we cheated, too. We had a trick up our sleeves. That should happen again. We need to be honest with each other and stop hiding things. Your father needs to know what it is we think and believe and we need to get him to help us. I think he’s so scared right now that he’ll do anything that he thinks will aid the situation.”



Hermione looked around. “Anyone want to add anything?” There was a shaking of heads all around. “Ok, then. Snog break”.



Smiling, she turned to Harry and fell into his embrace as their lips met. Luna fell into Ron’s arms – not needing any push at all to do so, while Ginny let herself be drawn up onto Neville’s lap, so that she could kiss him and run her fingers through his curly, dark hair.



The quiet sounds of couples loving each other filled the room for several long minutes. No one noticed that some of the people in the pictures around the room were smiling and nodding to each other.

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Anteroom, Chambers of the British Wizengamot; London, Wednesday, Oct. 16th, 10:15 Am.



“What do you mean? Potter is going to take his seat tomorrow? How in the hell did you not see that coming? If he gets in here, half the Wizengamot will follow him, just as a matter of tradition. The Potter family is the second-oldest family in England!!”



“Pipe down, Vincent! If it were to become known that any of our kind was left, don’t you think that we’d be hunted down and killed? Of course I knew there was a possibility that Potter would eventually try to claim his seat. What could I do about it? If the Dark Lord couldn’t beat him, do you really think we have a chance? Potter killed everyone from our side who was with our master that night. That was no mean feat. Even Malfoy and Bellatrix were killed and I thought they were as close to invincible as you could get.”



The two men, both dressed in the black, Acromantula silk robes which signified their status in the Wizengamot as associate members, continued to argue, heatedly, for several long minutes. They were completely unaware of the presence of a moving silhouette, in the shadows. So loud was their whispered conversation that it completely masked the breathing of the diminutive figure hidden along the wall, under the row of hanging robes. They would never guess that not only was their entire conversation being recorded, but that the person doing the recording was not an Auror, but an Unspeakable, on detached duty to the Auror Corp central London division.



Like in all things, patience was the key, and Ann Chang had it in spades. Not only was she patient, but she was nimble, quiet, and a powerful witch in her own right. “I god damn well ought to be powerful. I only practice my spells a thousand times, each. Even Potter doesn’t do that many.” She amended her thinking, quickly enough, though. “Don’t suppose he has to, though. Cho said Harry’s the most powerful wizard alive – even more so than Dumbledore. If she’s right, I don’t want to have any part of him…or Hermione, for that matter. She’s bad news, too.



Ann Chang had always loved her younger sister and they respected each other for the special and unique talents that each had. Ann couldn’t fly like Cho could – naturally and effortlessly – while Cho could never move like Ann could. Ann had always been the quintessential Asian girl: great at martial arts; goal-oriented, smart, well-read, pretty, and seductive. Essentially, Ann Chang was everything that she had ever wanted to be. The only difference between the two was the fact that she was tall enough to pass for Caucasian when the need arose and her hair was lustrous and more brown than black. That oddity came from her father’s side, instead of her mother’s. It had been the source of embarrassment when she was growing up, but she had come to appreciate how not looking quite so Asian could help her as an Unspeakable. It was one of the natural assets that she had which allowed her to pass into muggle London society when she had to do so. Cho, on the other hand, was too Asian-looking to be able to pass for anything other than Asian. She loved her looks and wasn’t at all jealous of her sister. She had something that Ann would never have…and something that was more precious to her than gold. For one afternoon, Harry had found her, sat with her, and told her in no uncertain terms that he thought that she was smart, beautiful, and totally desirable. Holding her hand, Harry told her how special he thought she was and that she had a long, wonderful life ahead of her, and that they’d always be friends.



Ann remembered the look on Cho’s face when she told about hearing those words from him. It had happened one day after Quidditch practice, during Cho’s seventh year – when Harry and Hermione had returned very briefly to Hogwarts, to test out of their sixth-year courses. Cho had been flying – not practicing so much as just flying for the love of doing so, when she had seen Harry take a seat in one of the upper stands. It might have been easy to continue flying, if had been anyone else, but Harry...it was like being watched by the Headmaster: she just couldn’t focus while his eyes were on her. Eventually, she had given up and flown down to him. After making some small-talk, Harry had told her what he had been thinking. “Cho? I’m not going to see you again – maybe for a long time …and I didn’t want you to leave here without telling you what I think of you.” Ann could tell that it had meant the whole world to her sister. Once she had heard those words from him, Cho said that she had started thinking of herself as beautiful and desirable and it made all the difference in terms of how she felt about herself; how she interacted with others; and how she should cope with the accumulating successes she was enjoying as a Hogwarts graduate. It was the greatest gift that she had ever been given – and for it, she would always love and appreciate Harry Potter.



Today, Ann Chang’s job was to gather sufficient intelligence to give her boss an actionable list of targets to go after. Harry, she knew, had killed all of the senior death eaters, and had disposed of Voldemort once and for all, but he hadn’t cleaned up the lower-ranking death eaters. That was the job of the Unspeakables and Ann was just as happy to have something worthwhile to do. It was better than being bored, by a long shot.



As the two men talked, other voices could be heard passing by, and she had to strain to catch what her two targets were saying.



“…still working?”



“I think so. She was brought in on charges of using unforgivable curses on magical creatures. When Tennat told me that, I almost peed myself with laughter. Can you imagine? Molly Weasley hauled into court because she killed some stupid fucking garden gnome? When we gave her the potions, we never thought she’d do that. We were hoping she’d go after Potter or his bitch wife and if we were lucky, kill her useless husband, as well.”



Ann had to fight to calm herself. They were talking about using potions on Molly Weasley to try to get her to kill Harry, Hermione, and even Mr. Weasley. It was all she could do not to break cover and take down both of her targets. Her bosses were going to want to hear everything on this, and sooner rather than later. She watched the mini-pensieve she was holding continue to swirl, as the extendable ear which was attached to it siphoned the conversation.



She knew her sister was going to have to hear the recording. There was no choice. She had to warn Harry and Hermione.



Focus! Can’t lose this.



The taller of the two death eaters spoke again, but this time, with his back to where Ann crouched, concealed by her invisibility cloak and her disillusionment charms. “Potter will be here for only a few minutes tomorrow. If we’re going to stop him, it will have to be as he comes out of the Chamber. He won’t be expecting it and we can kill him and get away before anyone can do anything to stop us.”



“Peter, if you miss, you’re as good as dead. If you only wound him, Potter will kill you. If you just hurt him, his wife will tear you to small, unidentifiable shreds. You sure you want to risk it?”



The shorter one, Peter, looked up at his ‘colleague’. “I want that reward. Two million galleons is a lot of money. I could retire anywhere in the world and life like a king.”



“Your funeral. If you succeed, you will be hunted for the rest of your short life. If you don’t succeed, you will die. Either way, you die. Not something I’m game for. If you want to take a run at him, you do it alone.”



“That’s the problem with you, Vincent. You never did have the stones for direct action. You’ve always been too busy plotting from the shadows; trying to use potions and imperious curses to try to get others to do your dirty-work for you. I’m going to collect that two million galleon reward and I’m going to disappear.”



“Peter, the only place you’re going to disappear to is a deep, dark, hole. That’s where they’re going to bury what’s left of you. If you somehow happen to catch Potter unawares, you best be prepared to kill him immediately. If you don’t – well – don’t say I didn’t warn you. Potter’s likely to use on you whatever he used on Lucius and the others. If you’re very unlucky, his wife will get you. She might be muggle-born, but I’ve heard that she’s a mean, evil bitch to cross who will most happily kill you. Remember those pictures we saw? Of what the muggles did to each other, before Dumbledore killed Grindelwald? If you’re unlucky, Potter’s bitch will see how long she can make you suffer…and she’s muggle enough to know how to make it a very, very long time.” The shorter wizard snorted, but the older, taller one went on. “Hey…if you don’t believe me – that’s your own lookout. I’m neither stupid nor suicidal. I saw the pictures of what they left of Lucius and Bella.”



“When will I see you again?”



Vincent stopped and looked at his friend, before reaching to take his traveling cloak from the hanging rack. “Peter, if you’re lucky, you’ll see me in Edinburgh in a week’s time, just like we planned. If not, I’ll try to say a few kind words over your grave….if the Potters even bother. I’m betting they won’t.”



Turning, the taller wizard strode out of the room, not even bothering to glance backwards. Sensing that she was being given a huge opportunity, she pulled back the invisibility cloak; drew her wand out and pointed it at the shorter wizard, who was bending over to tie a lace on his shoes. Stupefy!! She thought, silently.



Slumping instantly, the death eater called Peter overbalanced and smashed the top of his head into the wall in front of him with a bump. Ann didn’t feel sorry for him. She figured that Harry would have done much, much worse to him. Smiling to herself, she stood, looked around to make sure they were still alone, and placed anti-apparition manacles on her prisoner. There was no point in not taking him straight to the MLE’s holding cells. Her temporary bosses were going to want to question him at some length, as well as listen to the entire conversation.



Activating the portkey, her last thought before being whisked away with her prisoner was, “Going to have to tell Cho about all of this. Harry needs to know”.

************************************************

Office of the Senior Agent in Charge, London MLE, Wednesday, Oct. 16th, 2:35 Pm.



“I DON’T CARE WHAT YOU THOUGHT YOUR RESPONSIBILITY WAS!” He was screaming in her face; just like at Auror training, just after she had been graduated from Hogwarts. It never got any better.



“Bullocks.. And I thought I was going to get a hero’s reward for dragging in the sorry son-of-a-bitch. Stupid me.”



Ann Chang was standing at attention, her eyes focused forward on the wall behind her boss, as all cadets are taught to do, and was listening, if not exactly caring, about her bosses current rampage.



Poking her in the chest with his wand, he said, “What, Agent Chang, did you think you were going to accomplish by forcibly detaining a Wizengamot member? Did you not remember that they are immune from charges not brought upon them by the Wizengamot itself? Do you not appreciate the amount of difficulty that this will create for the Department? Answer me, Agent Chang, before I decide what I’m going to do with your sorry arse.”



Her arse was well and truly in a sling, as the Americans would say, and she knew it. However, she also understood that she’d do the same again and was unrepentant for having dragged the death eater to their holding cells. She hoped only that the pensieve record would be reviewed before they fired her, if it came to that.



“Sir! Permission to speak freely, Sir!”



Waving a hand, Senior Unspeakable Falstaff said, “Go ahead, since I don’t suppose I’d be able to keep you from it, anyway.”



“Sir! The death eater I captured was actively planning to attack Harry Potter and his wife tomorrow, when they are scheduled to appear before the Wizengamot, to claim the Potter and Black seats. I detained him only after recording sufficient incriminating testimony to make a valid arrest, Sir.”



That stopped the Senior Unspeakable in his tracks. Potter was the one person whom they had been charged to protect, by name, by both an act of the Wizengamot and an executive order from the Minister for Magic. “You’re willing to swear to that, Agent Chang? Are you willing to undergo Veritaserum?”



“Sir! Yes, Sir!”



“Fine. You are dismissed for right now. We’ll hang onto your detainee, at least through tomorrow, and you and I will have a talk again, after I’ve examined the pensieve you brought back. Until then, you are on detached duty. Remember that you are not to discuss this with anyone, nor disclose what you know. Dismissed.”



“Sir! Thank you, Sir!” With that, she saluted and turned on her heels smartly, to leave the office. In her mind, a plan was already coming together. She had sworn an oath to support, protect, and defend the people of Great Britain – magical and muggle alike – when she had joined the Unspeakables, and she had pledged to defend, with her life if necessary, any life that she knew to be in danger from magical threats. Oaths aside though, Ann knew that her loyalties lay with those who had given, and given, and given again to protect their world from the madman, Riddle. If protecting Harry and Hermione in return meant losing her job as an Unspeakable, it was a cost she was willing to pay.



Her sister felt the same way…and she was working in the Foreign Ministry, as a liaison to the magical Irish Government. Cho was smart and she’d be able to get the message to Harry, Ann knew. The question was how best to get Cho to meet her. It would look odd if Cho suddenly wandered down to the Department of Mysteries – for she really didn’t have any business being there, just as it would look odd if Ann went to her. There had to be a way!



As the young Unspeakable walked back towards her office cubicle, she again felt the call of nature which she had put off earlier. Ladies bathroom in the cafeteria. Perfect.



Turning on her heels once more; she went to the stairwell that was two doors down from her office. It had the added advantage of being out of the line of sight of anyone who might pose a problem to her and it allowed her to get to the one, mostly unshielded, unmonitored place that was within two floors of her office.



Trying to ignore the growing pressure in her gut, she made it up the stairs and to cafeteria-level. Looking around from the doorway, she didn’t see much movement. Figuring that most people would be hard at work in their own cubes, Ann cast a disillusionment charm over her body and a silencing charm on her feet, she made her way across the wide-open space, to the ladies bathroom.



Once natures call had been answered, she drew her wand from the magical holster on her arm and drew out all of the memories from her encounter with the two death eaters. Spinning it around the tip of her wand, she thought about the best, most positive memory that she had.



In a desperate, loud whisper, she pointed her wand at the air duck above the bathroom stall. “Expecto Patronum!”



Out leapt her patronus – a mongoose – and it playfully circled her body, before she tapped it with her wand; imbuing it the silvery strand of memories which she had previously extracted. Another tap and the patronus was on its way to her sister, two floors further up from where she stood.



“One more thing to do. Can’t have them finding out I messaged my sister!” Reaching into her purse, she drew out her shrunken back-up wand. She quickly cast a stupefy charm with it and then put the wand into her invisible wand holder. The wand she had just used for the patronus she shrank, and then banished it to her house, so that it would be away from anyone’s prying eyes at the Ministry.



Satisfied that she had covered her tracks, she wandlessly cast the disillusionment charm over her body, and crossed the open foyer again, on her way back to her cubicle. Ann hoped that Cho would realize the urgency of her sister\'s patronus and then act on it.

************************************************

Office of the Senior Liaison to the magical government of the Republic of Ireland; 2:52 Pm.



Cho was bent over her desk, writing furiously. The ICW had mandated that all participating governments move towards an international standard for magical visas and passports, just like the standards which the muggle governments around the world had struggled to create. The difficulty was that magical passports and visas were probably going to be based on blood-magic, because it was the most secure and most difficult kind of magic to fake. The Americans had protested, because of their notions of ‘civil liberties’ and ‘privacy’ and the Irish were threatening to follow their lead. It was Cho’s job to encourage them not to do so. Crafting the right words was proving to be more difficult than she had first believed it would be and the headache which had haunted her earlier in the day was threatening to come back.



It was in the moment when she looked up that her sister\'s patronus suddenly appeared in her cubicle. She had seen it only twice before and both of those times had proven to be serious, so she immediately pushed back from her desk and drew out her wand. Tapping the patronus with the tip of her wand, she felt the intended message flow into her mind.



Sitting down hard, the images started to play in her thoughts. Every word uttered by the two death eaters were immediately and indelibly written in her thoughts, along with her sister\'s plea to get the message to Harry or Hermione as quickly as could be done.



Just as quickly as the message had started, it ended – but the panic and alarm was just starting. Rising again, she grabbed her dragon-hide jacket – gift from Fred and George for her help in disposing with the Daily Prophet – and then her traveling cloak. The cloak, just like the jacket, was special. Layered with disillusionment and notice-me-not charms, it made her almost totally invisible to the average person. It was something she had gotten used to wearing and in this particular moment, she was thrilled to have it. What she was about to do was going to be hard enough, without the hassle of co-workers or her boss noticing her disappearance.



Gathering her papers together on her desk with a wave of her wand, she packed her briefcase and tucked it under her traveling cloak. Quietly and quickly making her way to the lifts in the atrium, she entered the first empty lift that presented itself. It was safer than using the floo, because those were monitored, while the outbound lifts weren’t. For the sake of Harry’s safety and her sister\'s security, she couldn’t afford to be tracked.



Once she reached street-level, she moved down the street; heading west and towards the park near the bridge. Since it was still early afternoon, the park was the closest, safest place from which to apparate.



Nothing was moving in the park. The young lovers who usually frequented the park in the afternoon had not yet arrived and the drunks who often slept off their hangovers on the park benches were nowhere to be found. Good, she thought. That will help. The trees on the far side of the park would provide just enough shade to make her completely invisible. A brisk walk of less than a minute put her where she wanted to be. Closing her eyes, she focused on her target destination; poured all the magic she could into her desire to go there, and disappeared.

************************************************

Just outside the Three Broomsticks; Hogsmead Village, Wednesday, Oct. 16th, 3:22 Pm.



Cho was moving fast from the moment she re-solidified. Not stopping to consider if she could even do it, she disapparated again; re-appearing just outside the ward-stones of the school. Frustrated that she was still more than two kilometers from the school and not willing to waste any more time, she drew out her wand. “Expecto Patronum!” A silver rainbow serpent appeared at the end of her wand and gamboodled around her legs, before she sent it on its way to the castle – to find Harry Potter.



The patronus plunged through the main doors and raced up the stairs, unseen, until it reached the seventh floor. Unfazed by the wards and shields that surrounded the Head Boy and Girl\'s room, the patronus continued up the secret stairway, and into the common room that the two shared. Harry was sitting near the fire, working on an advanced runes project – something that was well beyond NEWT-level – as Hermione lay asleep across his lap.

At first, Harry didn’t see the silvery patronus, and could not have heard it in any case, because all patroni moved absolutely silently. Feeling it was an entirely different matter. His magic was well attuned to patroni, because he had cast so many in his life already. The rainbow serpent undulated in mid-air, to Harry’s right, until he felt its shimmery presence.



Nudging his wife awake, Harry pointed to the patronus. “Do you recognize it, love?” he said to her silently. “YES!! Harry! It’s Cho’s. I’d know it anywhere. Touch it.”



Reaching his hand out, the misty creature touched his hand and flowed into him. What he felt from the magical messenger alarmed him. “Hermione! Cho’s just crossed through the wards here at the school She’s on the road. She needs to see us…now.”



Not stopping to question why, Hermione stood and let Harry’s magic swirl around her, as he magically transported them to the road, outside the school.



The next moment, the Head Boy and Girl appeared on the road; behind where Cho was walking. That was fortuitous, Harry thought, because it prevented Cho from being alarmed. She was walking fast along the road, her cloak swirling around her ankles. “I’m going to get her attention, ‘Mione. She’ll turn around and you’ll have to keep her from panicking.”



“Do it, Harry. I’m ready.”



“Cho!” Harry called out to the older girl. She whipped around; her wand in her hand. Hermione leapt in front of Harry; a powerful shield materializing instantaneously.



The curse that Cho fired off reflexively collided with the Head Girl\'s shield and forced Hermione to take a step back. “Fuck Harry! I wasn’t expecting that.”



“Harry! Hermione! What the hell! How did you two get behind me?” Cho looked shocked at their presence, even as she lowered her wand.



“Do you want to tell her?” Hermione’s thought flashed in his mind.



“Everyone else has seen us flashing about, but there’s no reason not to simply use our portkey now to return to our room and take her with us.” Hermione nodded and squeezed her husband’s hand.



“Cho, come with us. We’ll go back to the castle and talk about what’s going on. You’re safe here.” The beautiful girl flashed them a grateful smile, even as she reached out a hand to them. Taking it, Hermione let herself be wrapped up in her husbands’ arms and the three of them disappeared into the vortex formed by the portkeys’ magic.

**********

Arriving in the Head\'s common room, Cho looked about, as Hermione and then Harry took off their cloaks and bade her sit in the other loveseat.

“Ok, Cho”, Harry began, “what brings you here in the middle of the day, on a Wednesday, looking like someone had lit a fire under you?”



“Be nice, Harry. Even if she has news, it doesn’t mean you should just beat it out of her or something. We owe her a lot for helping to do in the Prophet.”



She looked at them and then said, “Do you have a pensieve? I have some memories that my sister Ann sent to me less than an hour ago that you have to see. I couldn’t trust an owl for this. I had to bring them myself.”



That set off both Harry’s and Hermione’s internal alarms. Cho was not given to flights of fancy, nor was her sister Ann, an Unspeakable, given to asking her sister to undertake such a dangerous mission, for no reason. “Cho? Do you trust us?”



“Together, love? You’re more gentle than I am.”



Knowing exactly what Harry was proposing to do, Hermione used her innate magic to scoot their chair closer to Cho’s, so Hermione could hold hands with the older girl.



“Yes Harry, I do. It’s why I’m here – because I trust you…and because Ann trusts you. What do you need me to do?”



“Cho, we don’t have a pensive, yet, that’s not accessible by others as well. What we want to do is enter your thoughts directly and take the memories. It won’t hurt at all, and if you are able to relax and push the images and memories at us, we’ll get them and get out.”



She looked at them. Legilimency was far from a common skill and yet Harry was speaking as if he, at least, could do it easily. “Can you really do that, Harry? Who taught you legilimency?”



Hermione squeezed the girl\'s hand. “Long story, Cho, and really, the fewer people who know that we can, the better. It’s not something we want to advertise widely. It’s bad enough that some of the teachers know that we can do it. Neither Harry nor I want anyone at the Ministry to know what we can do. They’d start asking uncomfortable questions about what else we can do that others can’t and it’s just better that we don’t have to expose our abilities.”



Nodding, the beautiful girl said, “So, what now?”



Harry reached over with his free hand and put it on top of Hermione and Cho’s joined hands. “Cho, I think it would be best if you just closed your eyes and thought about a good memory, first. Once you’ve done that, start thinking about the memories your sister sent. Hermione and I will slip in; get them, and get out. If we do it right, you won’t feel more than a gentle touch to your mind, ok?”



“Ready, love?”



“Un-huh. Let’s do it. We can talk about it afterwards. Maybe we let her know what’s going on and maybe we don’t. It depends on what we find.”



“Let’s begin.” Cho’s mind was not chaotic; and she had done what Harry had asked her to do. The memories which her sister had sent her were front and center, so that when Harry’s strong, but gentle probe touched them, he was able to see everything in order. Hermione’s presence was equally careful and Cho barely felt the pressure on her mind which signaled that her thoughts were being read.



Once the Head Boy and Girl had withdrawn from Cho’s mind, they were completely satisfied that they had seen and absorbed everything and at the same time, completely horrified by what they had learned.



Contrary to what Cho expected, her hosts were not concerned about the death eaters’ threat on their lives, but they were completely undone by what she had shared with them regarding Molly. Hermione was clearly agitated and seemed to want to do something, while Harry was quietly seething and looking for someone to hurt. The death eater being held at the Ministry seemed like a very good target.



“Harry – we’ve got to tell the Weasleys. This changes everything.”



“It does and it doesn’t, Hermione. We can get Molly cleared, to be sure, but I’m not sure – and I don’t think anyone will be – about how much the curse has changed who Molly is as a person. If she’s absorbed the curses compunction into her personality, then there’s a problem that ONLY the healers at Sr. Mungo’s can help.”



Hermione was surprised at the level of thoughtfulness which Harry brought to the conversation. He was so different from the boy he had been when they had fled St. Mungo’s, over a year and half prior. That boy would not have stopped to consider all of the ramifications of what they had just learned and more, he would have wanted to go off and do something, probably stupid, to the death eater who was being held in the MLE.



Harry was frowning, as he sensed her thoughts. “Was I that bad, ‘Mione?”



“Yes Harry. You were immature, to be sure, but I had already fallen completely, totally in love with you, so I didn’t think about it much.”



Harry stood up, dumping Hermione off his lap unceremoniously and disappeared down the stairs; not even bothering to even say goodbye to Cho. The fact that he didn’t even apologize for his abruptness surprised Cho, but not Hermione. She had just hurt his feelings hugely and she knew it was going to take some time to repair the fissure which had just grown up between them.



Great. I’ve just hurt my husband for no reason. What the fuck am I doing? Can’t I even go a week without hurting his feelings?



“Cho, I’ll be back. Harry’s angry and nothing is going to happen until I make it right with him. Just…stay put?



Cho looked at her; nodded, and watched as Hermione followed Harry out of the Head’s room and down the stairs. Hermione knew that if she was going to rescue the situation, she was going to have to act fast.



As she pushed the portal open and looked about, she realized that the only way she was going to find Harry was to try to feel for his magic. If he didn’t want to be found, it could make for a very long afternoon.

**********

One half-hour later



Harry, predictably, had ‘gone to ground’ by hiding in the school chapel. It was the only place, insofar as she knew, in all of Scotland that was completely shielded from outside magic. No power in the entire universe could have tracked him to the spot – except for the power of her love for him. She knew his heart and knew where he’d probably gone, once she stopped at thought about it. It was either the chapel or home, to Godric’s Hollow. Since the chapel was closer, she looked there first.



Harry was kneeling, in the front pew, and she could tell that he had been crying. He hadn’t heard her enter, so was unprepared to hide the tears which had wet his face.



As she knelt down next to him, he looked up. “I’m sorry, Harry. I…..” Her voice caught in her throat.



Being Harry’s wife, and sharing the ability to share her thoughts with him, had a definitive down-side. There was never any mental privacy between them. Harry knew it. It was what made him censor his thoughts so carefully. Hermione’s love for him was just too important to be treated cavalierly. “It’s alright, ‘Mione. I know I was a git back then. It just really hurt to hear you think it so clearly. I wasn’t expecting it, and it got to me.”



She was unprepared for his forgiveness. It was not was she was expecting, and in a moment of honesty, she felt that she didn’t deserve it and maybe even didn’t want it. She wanted him to rage at her; to tell her how insensitive and hurtful she had been. It was not the first time that her thoughts had betrayed the love that he had always shown her and she knew it. She seemed to have developed a habit of hurting him or, at the very least, not treating him with the kindness that he deserved. Harry had been working so hard to be a supportive, loving husband, while continuing to be her best friend and biggest cheerleader. What she had returned to him was hurt and sadness.



“I don’t deserve you, Harry. You deserve better than me.”



The blackness that had been pushing in at her from around her soul\'s edges was nearer, lately. It seemed to want to overtake her best instincts at times and it frightened her.



“I’m an awful person, Harry. You need someone who’s stronger than I am in your life.”



Harry cupped her face in his hands and she felt his gaze bore into her. “There is no one strong, Hermione. You’re the very best witch I could have ever found. I didn’t want anyone else, ok? I married you, not someone else. We’re bound together, remember? Credo pectus omnis Amor, remember? You have my soul, as I have yours. Whatever you feel; we share. If something is bothering you that you’re not telling me, than it’s got to stop. We can’t succeed unless you tell me everything.”



“But…..”



Harry’s eyes flared and the connection that bound them flared to life, so that she could feel it physically, and not just through their mental bond. “No, Hermione. No ‘buts’. If something is bothering you, you have to share it. I’m not the only one with demons. You wake up trembling at times, too. I know that because I’ve seen some of your dreams and I know what haunts you.”



Her jaw dropped in shock. As his wife and lover, she should have expected it, but she just hadn’t thought about it. He nodded. “That’s right, Hermione. I’ve seen your nightmares, just like I know you’ve seen mine. I know what’s been pushing at you and what you’ve been trying to keep at bay. I have news for you….you can’t keep the demons at bay forever and you can’t run from them. Believe me, I tried.”



For the first time, Hermione confronted the fact that she was not the only one who had fears, and that Harry wouldn’t leave her alone to deal with them.



In a very small voice, she said, “What can I do? I’m not strong enough….”



The fingers which had cupped her face began to caress her face and trace each contour. He was infinitely gentle with each touch, and she felt, for a moment, some of the fear ebbing away. “Hermione…I know you feared the power you have; and that you’ve worried that all those death eaters you killed somehow didn’t deserve it. You’re worried that you could be just as bad as Tom was and that somehow, you don’t deserve the power you have.”



She nodded, slowly.

“Hermione, you can never, ever be Tom. On your worst day, you don’t have the hate in your body to do what he did. More, your soul is intact. Those that you killed died deserving their deaths. Your friends, your family...counted on you doing exactly what you did. There is no guilt for you to feel. Besides, you weren’t the one who used the Mortuis curse. I did that. And you know what? If I had to kill one hundred and eighty or eighteen hundred death eaters to protect you, I’d do it again. There is nothing in the whole world that will make me feel bad about it, either. I love you, just as you love me, and that love…our love…is worth protecting.”



He stopped to take a breath, and then continued, “You have nothing to be ashamed of. You are, by everyone’s acclamation, the brightest witch of our age…and maybe for the last thousand years. You have created your own power by the learning and practicing you’ve done and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”



She was crying now. He could feel her hot tears wetting his hands. “Ah, ‘Mione….don’t cry. I love you.”



With a choked voice she said, as she looked into his eyes “I love you too, Harry. I’ve been afraid for so long…and then I started saying stuff that hurt you. Forgive me?”



Harry pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her, so that her face was cradled in the crook of his neck. “Hermione, there’s really nothing to forgive. Even when you’ve said stuff that hurt, I knew you were at least mostly right. I just want you to know that I really am trying…trying to be better. Will you be patient with me?”



The tears of relief that she had needed for so long, but had suppressed, poured down her face. As she clutched at him, she said, “I promise”.

************************************************

The Head\'s room - an hour later.



When Harry and Hermione had finally entered their private dorm again, they found Cho, curled up in the oversized chair, sound asleep in front of the fire. She looked very peaceful and perhaps even more beautiful than he remembered from their joint time at school.



As Hermione watched, Harry knelt by the side of the chair and gently kissed that special spot that only Cedric knew about. With a tender, gentle voice, he quietly said to her “Cedric loved you, Cho, and he always will.”



The words must have gotten to her, at some level, because she moaned, shifted in her sleep, and touched the spot with her fingertips, even as her breath came slow, deep, and even.



“That was really nice, Harry…but why?”



Harry invited her into the deepest part of his mind; where he protected his most important or painful memories. She saw and felt everything that Harry had experienced that terrible night. “He loved her, Hermione. I saw his ghost when I battled Tom, in the graveyard, and besides asking me to take his body back to his parents, he also told me to tell her that he loved her. He told me where he used to kiss her and made me promise to give her one last one from him. I didn’t want him to think I’d forgotten to do so.”



“Oh dammit, Harry. You’re going to make me cry again, too. You never told me about the second part of his message before.”



“Never had any reason to, love. It was pretty personal, and I felt like I would have been betraying Cedric to have said anything about it, before.”



To that, she had no answer. It was typical, though, of Harry’s loyalty. It was what made him the person she fell in love with, and it separated him from all the other boys and men she had ever met, anywhere else.



As they walked up to their room, she said into his mind “You never stop amazing me, Harry. Just when I thought I couldn’t love you more, you go and do something special like that.”



He smiled at her – a knowing smile that he saved for her alone. “Only because I have you, Hermione. I’m nothing without you.”



“How long do you think our guest will sleep?” she said, with a leer.



“Oh? It’s like that, eh? How long would you like her to sleep?” he said, deliberately pointing at her wand.



“Prat….but I’ll forgive you. As if I need a wand for that….” He wiggled his eyebrows and she giggled. “Two hours? That enough?”



“Depends on what you had in mind, Mrs. Potter….but yes, two hours is probably enough. If we let her sleep longer, she’ll be missed by her boss and her sister and someone will get suspicious.”



Hermione walked back down to their common room, and with wave in Cho’s general direction, cast a sleeping spell that would keep the young woman asleep for the proscribed period of time. Laughing to herself when it was done, she walked back to their bedroom and made a show of closing and locking the door behind her wandlessly, before launching herself at her husband and tackling him on the bed. Her last rational thought, before his love and their combined magic banished her ability to cogitate, was “It’s been too long, Harry.”

************************************************

Outside the Headmaster\'s Office, Thursday, October 17th, 6:45 Am.



“We ready for this?”



“No, but we’re never completely ready. We weren’t ready to face Tom, either, but we did it. One way or the other, this has to happen. At least this way, we’ll be able to suborn the system and get Molly the help she needs.”



Hermione nodded. Hand in hand, the two stepped into the portico and let the magically spiraling staircase take them up to the Headmaster\'s office. They were dressed in their ‘good’ school robes, but would change into the dress robes of House of Potter before leaving for the Wizengamot.



Before they opened the inner door, Harry took Hermione in his arms and held her for a moment. “Hermione? I want you to know that no matter what happens later this morning, I love you, and could not be prouder of being your husband.” Her eyes were swimming with love and appreciation for the kind of unswerving support that he always gave her. Meeting his lips, she let herself melt into his love.



As they kissed, the inner door swung open silently, and left the Head Boy and Girl’s affection for each other exposed to the knowing, affectionate view of the ageing Headmaster.



Even if they had fantasized about making love in the Headmaster\'s outer office, neither had considered what getting caught snogging in that same said office might be like. It was considerably more disconcerting than they had imagined.



Hand in hand, they entered the outer office and looked at the Headmaster; the scarlet of their embarrassment in full flush. Dumbledore looked at them as they came to a stop in front of his desk. His smile was kindly and, as he stroked his beard, both Harry and Hermione had the sense that he was more amused than anything else. “Still enjoying married life?”



Hermione giggled – a completely natural, beautiful, almost tinkling sound – that caught Harry in that place where he lived and caused him to laugh as well. That their partnership was stronger for every day that passed and as he held her hand, and it was written, as plainly as it could be, across his face that he loved Hermione.



Harry’s eyes swept the floor for a moment, before he gathered the courage to look up and meet his Headmasters’ gaze. “Yes, Sir”, Harry said quietly.



It was the Headmaster\'s turn to laugh – a sound that said family to him – and it made Harry feel like he and Hermione were truly accepted by the old man. It reassured him in a way that to which he couldn’t really put voice. “Well, Harry, Hermione, today is the day that we ‘introduce’ you two to the formal world of the Wizengamot, with all of its intricacies and foibles. I don’t expect that either of you is going to like it much, because it is an awfully stuffy world, but I know that you two can endure it for the required time.”



“Headmaster? I don’t mean to interrupt, but…..”



“What is it, Harry? Can it not wait?”



He looked meaningfully at his wife and Hermione returned the look, as if to say, “Better to get it done now.”



“Sir, Cho Chang arrived her yesterday afternoon, in a great hurry. She had news from her sister, Ann, who’s an Unspeakable. She showed us memories – memories that Ann smuggled out of her office – so that we’d know what we are facing. But – there’s more. Ann showed us that Molly was poisoned over a year ago. That’s why she’s been acting so strangely. I have the memories here.” He handed the headmaster two vials; each filled with a whispery silver cloud.



Taking the two vials from Harry’s hand, the Headmaster turned and wandlessly summoned his pensieve from the locked cabinet where it lay hidden. As the great, silver stone bowl-shaped device drew near, the old wizard stroked his beard. “I’ll admit to some disappointment, Harry, Hermione, that you two didn’t bring these to me last night, when we might have had more time, but I will acquiesce to your judgment in not doing so. I’m sure you had valid reasons.”



The happiness that the two had felt when they entered the Headmaster\'s office sank a little bit upon hearing his disappointment. It was something that they strove to avoid, because of how important the Headmaster was to them, personally.



“Sir? We could have come to you immediately…but we had things we had to work out between us, and that was more important in the moment.”



A raised eyebrow was the Headmasters only answer.



Hermione wanted to leap to Harry’s defense, but then thought better of it, when she realized that the Headmaster had seen their clasped hands and understood Harry’s not-so-subtle implication of a personal matter which lay better, unrevealed.



“Thank you, Sir”, she said quietly.



Nodding, the Headmaster unceremoniously dumped the two memories into the pensieve; stirred them with the end of his wand, and then



Having done the same thing so many times, it disturbed Hermione and Harry not at all when the Headmaster suddenly disappeared entirely into his pensive. “How long will he be gone?”



“Two minutes, maybe three. The memories play out in real time. I don’t know why, but they do. You can’t speed them up.”



Harry’s eyebrow threatened to rise and Hermione grinned at the twinge when she saw it. She knew that he was tempted to tease her about not knowing something – given her penchant for wanting to learn everything that she could; anywhere and any time. As he pulled her tight and let his hands wander into her school robes and down the back of her skirt. She felt him unzip her skirt and slide his hand inside and down, to cup her bum gently. She smiled at him and let herself fall into his embrace. “You know I love you, Hermione.”



“Prat.”



“Moi?”



“Oui. Vous.”



Hermione felt Harry’s hand trace the edge of her knickers, on its way down, between her legs. Turning slightly, she spread her legs, silently signaling Harry that she waned to feel his hand and fingers in her sex, directly. “I want you, Hermione. I want to take you back to our room…...”



Hermione moaned as she felt his desire sweep into her consciousness and his magic core rise to meet hers. “I want you too, Harry. I wish we had the time…” She left the rest unsaid, because she knew her husband felt the same way, and knew her desires. Just as she felt his, he could feel and see, in his mind\'s eye, all of the things that she wanted him to do to her body. The sexy, yellow silk knickers she was wearing were already wet: proof enough of her wish that he would have his way with her body.



“Put a finger in me? Please?”



It took Harry but a moment to slide two of his fingers into her sex. She groaned and pushed back against his hand. “Oh, fuck, Harry. That feels so good! Ooooooooh, God.”



Harry’s lips captured hers, as she turned her head. Moaning into his mouth, Hermione’s desire to be taken rage through her body. Effectively pinned against his body, she felt his massive erection against her hip, making her want him all the more. Suddenly, the Headmaster appeared at the edge of the stone pensieve. Thinking quickly, Harry cast a ‘notice-me-not’ charm in and around Hermione’s waist, so that she’d have time to ‘re-adjust’ things. Hermione didn’t know what he had cast immediately, but she felt his magic spring up and she counted on the fact that her husband would protect her dignity.



Harry turned to face her, after withdrawing his hand from the back of her skirt, and brought his fingers to his lips. Grinning, he licked clean the two fingers that had been in her sex. It brought a furious blush to her cheeks and caused her breath to hitch, as she thought about how it would have felt to feel his tongue in her sex again; licking her and pushing deep into her folds. “Harry! Merlin! You are going to get us in such trouble!”



Lecherous looks were not something that was unfamiliar to Harry…and he gave her the best one he could manage – given the circumstances and how much he loved and desired her. “It would be worth it, ‘Mione. I love you and I want to make sure that you always know it.”



There was little that she could say. Feeling Harry’s love for her, and his obvious enthusiasm for making love to and with her always twitterpated her. The nimbus lumens amor – which Hermione had come to associate with the way her love for Harry felt, sprang up around them, as strong as she had ever seen it. It bathed the room in a powerful, golden glow, to the exclusion of the light from the pensieve, and the window set high on the west wall of the Headmasters’ office.



So lost in their emotional reverie were they that when Dumbledore straightened up and looked at them, they didn’t notice immediately. A small parade of ghostly, silvery, magical creatures appeared to spring from the Headmasters’ palm and made their way in, around, and between the amorous couple; causing them to jump apart with a small ‘eep’.



Twinkling, the old man’s eyes caught their attention. Hermione started to speak – to apologize – or at the very least, try to explain their actions, but the he waved it away. There was laughter in his voice as he said, “It’s all right, Mrs. Potter. I remember being newly married and wanting, more than anything, more time with my beloved. You and your husband have nothing to be ashamed of.” The sudden tension which Harry had felt across his chest, as he anticipated what the Headmaster might say, seamed to slip away, like an ice cube on a hot summers’ day.



“Now, you two have shown me two memories that are very, very important. Even more so than you could have realized. It’s now time for me to tell you both about a conversation I had some time ago with the new owner of Borgin and Burkes. Maliphila Borgin met with Rita Skeeter on the Twenty-third of September, after Rita had healed from curses she sustained when she was following the two of you in Diagon Alley. Maliphila flooed me after their conversation and told me everything that Rita had to say. Maliphila was trying to trade her silence against the release of her cousin, who is currently residing in Azkaban.”



Harry and Hermione were aghast. Not because Rita had been cursed, but because the daughter of one of the most disreputable owners in Knockturn Alley had reached out to the most visible leader of the light side. Harry broke their silence first. “Sir, why have you sat on this information for so long? Surely, you would have realized that Rita might have information that we needed.”



Dumbledore raised his hand, as if to stave off the young man\'s questions. “Harry, Harry. First – I am sad to hear that you’d think that I’d withhold information needlessly, or that I wouldn’t share information if it were vital to you, Hermione, or any of the students. One thing that I have realized, since Tom’s passing, is that keeping – or hording – secrets is dangerous and arrogant. I made a promise to myself that I would, for the rest of my time in this existence, not commit that sin again.”

Harry nodded. He had realized the same thing, after being shut out so often by the Headmasters’ machinations. “What did Rita have to say, then?”



Placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder, Dumbledore looked at him. There was nothing but the love of a grandfather for a beloved grandchild in his eyes. “She told Maliphila everything she knows or has speculated about you and Hermione during your years here, Harry. More worrying though, Harry, is that Rita wants to destroy you. In particular, she wants to humiliate you; destroy your relationship with Hermione if she can, and somehow separate you from your considerable fortune.”



The concern in his voice, as he addressed Harry, was palpable. Hermione clung tightly to Harry’s arm as she listened to what the Headmaster said.



Finally, Hermione’s curiosity got the best of her. “Headmaster, if what you say is true, how does it tie in with the memories which we brought? I mean...Rita wasn’t directly tied to whoever cursed Molly, was she?”



Stroking his beard, the Headmaster leaned back against his outer-office desk for a moment. “No, I don’t think that there is any direct connection. However, we might be able to get two birds with one stone, if we play our cards right. It occurs to me that there might be a powerful confluence of events happening around Thanksgiving which could play in our favor, if we plan it right.”



It was as if both Harry and Hermione could see the wheels beginning to spin in the Headmaster\'s mind. That set their own cogs in motion – both separately and together, via their link. By the time five minutes had passed, the three were animatedly talking about possible outcomes and ways to nudge events in their favor.



Soon, Hermione was busy writing missives for the Headmaster to sign, as well as some of her own. Harry, in the mean time, was busy reading a tome which he had taken down from one of the shelves nearest the stairs which led up to Dumbledore’s sanctum sanctorum. The book, The Magic of the Heliotrope and its Uses, was a fascinating work in many respects. It discussed the nature of Dragon Fire and fire-magic in general and showed how it could be wielded in a way that would keep the spell-caster (relatively) safe. As he flipped through each chapter, he saw something that troubled him - the author\'s increasing reliance on substances like Magnesium, pure Potassium, and various combinations of sulfur. To Harry’s way of thinking, reliance on purified chemicals was both cumbersome as well as dangerous and would probably keep most wizards and witches from making very much use of the spells found in the book. As he thought about the problem, he realized that there might be another way entirely to deal with the problem of accelerants.



He was just about to mention his train of thought to Hermione when she looked at him. “I know what you’ve been thinking about Harry – and I do have some suggestions – but right now, we’ve got to deal with how to get Molly to challenge me to a duel, or vice-versa, in such a way as to put Rita in the position of being her second. Also, we have to find a way to smoke out whoever it was who gave Molly that cursed potion to begin with. I’m much less sanguine about how we’re going to do that. We don’t have a clue as to who might have had access to her, or even when she might have been cursed. If we could pin it down to a specific event and location, we could work by process of elimination.”



As their eyes met, Harry replied across their link. “We’re going to have to ask Arthur, Hermione. He’d know. The question is whether he’d agree to letting us use Molly as bait to get to Rita. More, would he agree to let us use Veritaserum on her? It might be the only way to corroborate what Arthur tells us. If he doesn’t, we’ll still be floundering in the dark. What about the healers at St. Mungo’s? Don’t they have ways of figuring out what most curses are?”



“Yes and no, Harry. As best I know, they can tell what kind of curse has been used by the way it behaves. Classifying it helps them narrow down possible treatments. However, without the precise wording of the curse, it’s impossible to cure a curse. The power of the curse comes from both its intent and the Arithmancy which shaped it. Without the wording, you’re stuck most of the time. Some curses, like the AK, have no answer. It’s like a muggle poison with no antidote or a virus with no muggle cure. Think ‘Ebola’. “



The dialog between the two was definitely not unremarked. Albus Dumbledore watched their eyes close and their breathing slow as they submerged themselves into the unique link that they shared. For the first and only time in his life, he felt envy for the power of another wizard. In that moment, he wondered what he might have been able to do had he had a chance to share with his only love the kind of connection that the two young people in front of him were sharing.



Hermione had said, at the memorial-day ceremony, that Harry was the most powerful wizard alive, and Albus Dumbledore wondered if that wasn’t exactly the case. He thought about what Harry had done so far. An animagus transformation within six months; The ability to apparate within the walls of Hogwarts; and the ability to speak and share everything that he was over a mind-link with a ‘first’-born witch. It all spoke of a wizard who had not yet come into his true powers, but would do so in ways that would make the magical world re-consider where the boundaries of magical power truly lay.



He cleared his throat and watched as they startled out of their silent conversation. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s still a great deal to accomplish today. Harry, Hermione, the two of you must be robed and ready to leave with me in the next half-hour. You know what you must wear, each of you, and you know now what to expect. I am glad that your ‘welcoming’ committee has been otherwise irrevocably detained.”



The two Heads nodded their agreement with that statement. “I also want to tell you both that I am extremely proud of you. Facing the Wizengamot at seventeen might be a hugely daunting prospect for some…..but”, he said, with an underlying edge of humor to his words “perhaps, present company excluded.”



“We’ll be back shortly, Headmaster. Our robes are already laid out and we just need a few minutes to prepare.”



“Very good then, Mrs. Potter. I expect you back by the half-hours’ tolling.”



With that, Hermione and Harry clasped hands; activated their private portkey, and disappeared.

************************************************

Antechamber of the Lords’ entrance to the Wizengamot; Thursday, October 17th, 10:30 Am.



Albus Dumbledore had not worn his formal garb in several years and there was a part of him that hoped he’d never wear them again. He had gotten them because he’d killed Grindelwald and they – the powers that were – wanted to ‘honor’ him. After everything, it was as empty a gesture as the Minister for Magic wanting to ‘honor’ Harry for having disposed of Tom Riddle.



Harry? Do you know how much I love you as the son I never had?



As he stood there, waiting for Harry and Hermione\'s arrival, he realized that the care he felt for the black-haired, green-eyed boy was much more than he had felt for any other student. It both shamed him and at the same time, liberated his resolve to make sure that the young man, and the remarkable woman that he loved, would have a chance to live long, happy lives together.



The blue-and-white light of a portkey arrival interrupted the old mans’ thoughts. The key was one he, himself, had made and he could feel its unique magical signature – even if others couldn’t.



The next moment, Lord and Lady Potter, stepped out of the magical swirl. They were dressed in dark green Acromantula silk, with the seal of the House of Potter woven in a discreet pattern just above the left breast. The house colors – dark green and gold – had not been seen in the Wizengamot since before James and Lily had gone into hiding. They would be alternately cheered and feared, depending on what side the viewer was on during the second Voldemort war.



It took a moment for the Headmaster to realize that both Hermione and Harry were wearing ribbons that signified that they carried with them Her Royal Majesty’s favor. It was a powerful symbol, because it spoke volumes about their reach into both the magical as well as muggle worlds. Because they were so very rare, symbols of the Sovereign\'s favor were not worn lightly, as they tended to set the person apart, emotionally and more importantly, socially, from all others. Because he had never seen them wear the ribbons before, Albus thought it best to assume that both Harry and Hermione knew exactly what the ribbons meant and that they were intent on sending a very clear and distinct message to the members of the Wizengamot.



“Are you both ready for this?”



They nodded, even as they held hands. “Good. Let us proceed. Remember that when I call you forward, you acknowledge me first; then the Minister for Magic, and finally, the rest of the members.”



Hermione had told Harry, silently, what needed to be done…and he reminded her, silently, that she had just done so for the third time. A blush rose to her cheeks as she saw and felt Harry’s cheeky smile and radiant love for her.



Walking forward, the Headmaster waved a hand the door opened. His eyes and craggily smile were affectionate as he turned to give them a ‘follow-me’ sign. They followed, at a respectful distance, so that the Headmaster would be seen first and given the respect and attention he had earned.



Once inside, Hermione and Harry were slightly overwhelmed by just how high the ceiling was and how bright the room was, when it wasn’t being used as a judicial chamber.



“Harry! The room is completely full! The whole Wizengamot must be here!”



Harry pulled her closer and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, as he acknowledged what she had seen. He was feeling a bit overcome as well, as he looked at the sheer number of people whom they’d have to address. He had spoken to such a large group only once before, and that had been before a decidedly more friendly and supportive audience.



As they moved to the position where Dumbledore had told them to stand, it felt to them as though they were under a high-detail microscope. The eyes were crawling all over them and there were none too few fingers pointing their way.



“Harry! They’ve seen the Queen\'s ribbon!”



“I told you they would, eventually, Hermione. The question is how many of them know what it means. A few of the pure-bloods probably have no idea of muggle traditions and the others might be confused about whose colors they are.”



“But Harry! Dumbledore knew. Doesn’t that mean that others will?”



“Maybe. We’ll see. I’m betting that less than half know and even that might be high. Without Dumbledore here, most all of them would have deliberately or accidentally mistaken it for something else entirely. Let’s see how it plays out.”



“Do you think we did the right thing by wearing them?



“Dumbledore told us to wear the very best. The ribbons are a part of that.”



Hermione took a step closer to Harry, so that she could feel the warmth of his body next to hers and the security of his hand intertwined with hers. “Don’t be scared, ‘Mione. We’ve faced worse.”



“I know….but these people have all the power in wizarding society. If they don’t accept us, we’re in trouble.”



“You think so? I think they don’t have any choice. We’re the ‘couple that won’ and I’m the ‘boy who lived’, right? How could they dare not accept us? Wizarding society has certain expectations.”



Their conversation went totally unnoticed, as all telepathic conversations did. The only thing that might have given it away was the far-away look each took on and there was little that either could do about it.



Their reverie was interrupted by a magical gonging sound and the change in the focus of the lights in the large room. Suddenly, Harry and Hermione found themselves in a spotlight of sorts.



Dumbledore’s voice rang out; magically amplified as it often was. “Harry James, Lord Potter. Hermione Jane, Lady Potter. Welcome to the Wizengamot. I ask you to prove your identities to the satisfaction of those here assembled.”



“Ready?”



Wandlessly, Hermione and Harry shouted “Expecto Patronum!” and two huge, powerful cats sprang forward. One was an enormous, fully maned African lion; while from Hermione came a massive female jaguar. It was just as they had done at school and it brought complete silence to the room.



There were ‘Oooooooows’ and ‘ahhhhhhhs’ as the two silvery cats circled the perimeter of the room and then sat next to each other; nuzzling. At the Headmaster\'s nod, Hermione and Harry vanished their patroni and waited for the pro forma official welcome.



One of Harry’s biggest supporters in the Wizengamot, Amelia Bones, looked down at him affectionately. The witch to her right also looked friendly and Harry thought that was a good sign. Despite the power that Harry’s lineage gave him, they still needed friends within the body. Neither one had forgotten that at least one of the Wizengamot members had, very recently, been plotting to kill him and it was only by God\'s grace that Ann Chang happened to be working under cover and heard the conspirators talking in the cloak room. Harry and Hermione wondered together, silently, about how many others were also not happy about the events that were unfolding, and might be planning on trying to kill the both of them. “Personal shields before we leave here?”



“You bet your lovely bottom, Hermione. We can, I think, stop anything short of an Avada Kedavra.”



“Let’s try to be where that isn’t, ok?”



“I love you too, Hermione.”



The entire exchange passed in the blink of an eye – but not unnoticed.



Dumbledore lifted his hands as he stood up. “Harry James, Lord Potter. Hermione Jane, Lady Potter, do you both now declare your intention to take seats in this body?”



After greeting the Minister for Magic, they turned back to Dumbledore. “Yes, Sir, we do.” They answered together.



“Lord Potter, do you speak for the House of Potter?”



“Yes Sir, I do.”



“Do you also speak for the House of Black?”



“Yes Sir, I do.”



At that, the Minister for Magic sat up straight and looked at the pair. No one had spoken in the Wizengamot for the House of Black since Sirius Black’s father, more than thirty years before. Having the House of Black represented meant that Harry might try to consolidate power within the Wizengamot – and that could considerably alter the way things were done. It would bear watching, he thought.



“Lady Potter, for whom do you speak?”



“I speak for my husband, when he is not able. I speak for myself at all times, and I speak for my children, when that day comes.”



There was polite and deliberate applause for Hermione’s rehearsed lines, which went on for twenty seconds or so before dying down.



Looking down at them, over his half-moon glasses, Albus Dumbledore smiled. It was just how he had expected it. With luck, he thought, they just might make it out of the chamber and safely home before any fireworks started. If not…well….Dumbledore didn’t want to dwell on that point. No violence had happened within the chamber for five hundred years and as the chief Warlock, it was mostly his job to make sure decorum was observed.



There was really no way to challenge their seating. It would be foolish even to try. The only way was over a point of honor, and there was no one who, he thought, would dare raise such an objection. Still, he knew, he had to invite the challenge, if there were one, so that all of the proper ‘forms’ could be observed.



Amplifying his voice, Dumbledore looked at the assembled delegates and said, “Is there anyone present who knows of a reason why Lord and Lady Potter should not be seated? Speak now or forever…”



He was cut off by a shortish, grey-haired man who stood and said, “I do.” His pronouncement shocked those around him and they backed away fast.



The Headmaster looked at the individual and shook his head. Brooksby Nott-Carrow was the grand uncle of the Carrow brothers – twin death eaters who had been dispatched by Harry Potter when Tom Riddle was killed. While his political leanings had always been suspected, they had never actually been confirmed.



Finding his voice once again, the Chief Warlock for the Wizengamot met Carrow\'s eye and said, “State the nature of your challenge, Carrow. You understand that, if you are wrong, you will face one on one combat against Lord Potter-Black?”



“The Boy is no Lord and he doesn’t belong here. I challenge his married status and thus his eligibility for this body. I also challenge his emancipation and title.”



The moment that those around Carrow heard what he had to say, they started moving away from him with alacrity, so they were out of the way of any spell-fire. Carrow, they all knew, either had something up his sleeve, or was completely insane. Potter had killed Riddle – the most feared, most dangerous dark lord since Grindelwald. More, the man who had killed Grindelwald was still very much alive…and was a known ally of Potter. No matter how one weighed it, it came out badly for Carrow.



“He can’t be that stupid, can he Harry?”



“Yes Hermione, he can be.”



“Do you have to kill him?”



“Probably…but not today. I’m not going to let him get near you though, so if he goes, it’s because he looked at you wrong.”



Hermione could not suppress the snort of laughter that Harry’s somewhat ironic statement caused. “Just get it over with, Harry. We still have lots to do today.”



“Aye…..Hermione love? You have the date book in front of you…or did you just memorize all of it?”



“Prat! Just for that, only two kisses goodnight tonight.”



“I love you, Hermione. Even one kiss from you is a treasure beyond description.”



“Bah. You’re a bad poet Harry, even if I love you more than life itself.”



“So, no kisses right now?”



“No. Let’s just get on with things. We’ve got other things to do today.”



Harry knew that it was true and wasn’t going to fight her over it. He had to deal with Carrow, though, first. Smiling his broadest, most sincere smile, Harry looked at the offensive oaf. “Member Carrow, because you have not met me before, I will assume that you are simply misinformed and that you will take a moment to confer with your friends to correct your information. Please, take that time. I would not want you to proceed without the best information possible.”



Deliberately looking down, Harry made a show of lifting his pocket watch from his waist; reading it, and making note of how much time had passed. After thirty seconds, he looked up. Carrow had turn a bad shade of puce and looked like he was about to go for his wand. Hermione saw where her husband was looking and wandlessly disarmed the man.



Hermione’s actions left both the Headmaster, and the truculent Carrow staring at her. He began to spout invective at her, even as the rest of the members of the Wizengamot quietly began to reassess the two young people looking up at them from the witness floor.



“You can’t do that to me!” he fairly screeched. “I will finish you both!”



Dumbledore, unaccustomed to such division between members in the Wizengamot, and fearful that Harry would dispatch him where he stood, turned on the man. There was neither mirth nor gentleness in his eyes as he spoke. “You will apologize to Lord Potter, Member Carrow, and you will do it now. If you do not, it could go badly for you. Lord Potter is protective of his bonded love.”



There was a collective intake of breath when the old wizard said, “Bonded”.

Amelia Bones rose and addressed her friend. “Lord Dumbledore, will I have the chairs’ recognition to speak?”



He turned to her; eyes twinkling. “Madame Bones, the chair recognizes you and bids you speak freely.”



The old, weathered woman smiled and turned her attention to the young couple. “Lord and Lady Potter, Albus has said that you two are bonded. Can you prove that?”



For the first time since entering the hall, Harry smiled. “Yes, Lady Bones, we can.”



“Ready?”



“For you? Always, love.”



Hermione and Harry opened their connection to each other fully and let their magic rise up and bind to the others’. They felt each others’ love and desire and together, they reveled in the joy that their marriage had given them. Within moments the golden glow of the nimbus lumens amor, which had been with them for so long, sprang into existence. It bathed the assembled members in its soft light and so enveloped Harry and Hermione that they were almost painful to look at.



“I love you, Hermione.” Harry thought to her, as he caressed her cheek and kissed her softly.



She pressed his hand to her face. “I love you too, Harry.”



How much time passed was uncertain, but eventually, the light faded and the young couple was revealed; still holding each other and still kissing, despite the rather large audience. One person started clapping; then several, and eventually, the whole of the Wizengamot, save for the few who had stood by Carrow originally, was clapping.



Shame-faced, the two separated, but held onto each other, not knowing what else to do.



Dumbledore looked down at them, from his elevated chair, and smiled. He knew what it meant to be young and in love and knew that there was never shame in loving someone so completely; as Harry loved Hermione. “Lord and Lady Potter. Thank you both for that powerful display. I don’t think that anyone here can doubt, for a moment, your bonded status. I am sure that Lady Bones is satisfied. Is that not correct, Lady Bones?”



Almost breathless from the display, Amelia could only nod. She had been taken aback by the wildness of the Nimbus lumens Amor.



“Now, Lord Potter, before we were interrupted, I had asked Member Carrow for his apology.” Turning, he looked at the ugly, aggressive little man. His wand was clearly visible and its message, unmistakable. “Member Carrow, I am sure that Lord Potter is still waiting for your apology. I know that I am, as his sponsor.”



It was do-or-die time. Seething internally, he knew had been backed into a corner. Potter, his mudblood whore, and their toady headmaster had forced him into either apologizing or facing off against Potter directly. Either choice was distinctly unpalatable, but only one gave him the chance to fight another day.



“Lord Potter” he said, clearing his throat and pulling himself erect, “I apologize for my words, earlier. I can see clearly that you and Lady Potter are well and truly bonded and I withdraw my earlier challenge.”



Harry nodded, as did Hermione. The wand which Hermione had taken from him so easily, earlier, floated through the air, and back into his grasp. It was lost on no one in the room that Hermione never took out her own wand to effect the magical levitation and that she had not even, really, even paid any attention to the wand itself. They all watched it leave her grasp and float, as if on its own accord, unerringly to its owner.



The words were bile in Carrow\'s throat, but they were necessary, if he wanted to live. Being a former death-eater had not diminished his intelligence and he was certain that he would not still be alive if he were as dumb as those who had preceded him along the dark path. With the Dark lord gone, Carrow had made some decisions about the new path of his life and at the top of the list of decisions was the one that said, ”Stay alive”. Insulting Potter had almost violated that mandate and he chastised himself for being so careless with his words. He would bide his time, quietly, and wait for his chance to strike a blow for those who opposed the new ‘order’ that was developing. He didn’t need the reward money – that was for sure – and he knew that dead people couldn’t spend galleons.



It galled him, but he expected the next words out of Dumbledore’s mouth. “Lord and Lady Potter, seeing that there are no other challenges to your membership, I extend the hand of friendship and the welcome of the Wizengamot of Great Britain and the United Kingdom.”



There was another round of sustained applause, as Hermione and Harry approached the chair and were each given medals, suspended on silk ribbons, which proved their membership and granted them both access and sanctuary within the confines of the Hall of the Wizengamot.



Finally, it was time to leave – and none too soon, they both thought. Each made sure to erect powerful shields as they carefully exited the hall. Thanks to Ann Chang, the coat room was empty and they were able to move quickly to a safe disapparation point. Holding Hermione firmly against his body, Harry closed his eyes and they disappeared.

************************************************

The Burrow, Thursday, October 17th, 4:15 Pm.



Ron looked at his father. “We don’t have long, Dad. Mom will be home soon and we need to be gone before then.”



“You sure she has something here?” Arthur said, tentatively.



“Yes, Dad, we’re sure. At least, it makes more sense than anything else. Both the Headmaster and Hermione both think that it’s likely.”



Arthur shook his head. It was almost too much to believe. His Mollywobbles. He didn’t want to believe it of her and he knew that if they did find proof…it would change his feelings for his wife forever. Was it too much to ask? Too much hope that the Headmaster and Hermione were both wrong?



“Found it!”



Arthur whipped around – to see his eldest son, Bill, holding up a dusty, black, leather-bound book with silver writing. “Where was it, Bill?”



“It was here in the corner, Dad. I did some cantrips that Dumbledore taught us for this purpose and one of them showed a shape, covered with disillusionment and concealment charms.”



After several long minutes, Bill slid his wand into its holster and stepped away from the book. Very quietly, he approached his father and said, “It had a blood-ward on it, Dad. If mom set it, we have a much bigger problem than we thought.”



The color drained from his face as Bill showed him the cover. It was a title that the Gringotts curse-breaker hoped he’d never see: “Die Schwärzesten Künste: Tötung Ist Nicht Genug” “The Blackest Arts: Killing is Not Enough”. It was Grindelwald’s book.



“Dad? We have to take this with us…and we have to go now. We can’t be here when mom gets home. She mustn’t know we’re onto what’s going on.”



He nodded weakly. The truth of what they had found was unbearable. As his children, minus Percy, led him out of the attic, and then the house, on their way towards their secure apparition point, he began to cry.

************************************************

Headmaster’s Outer office, Thursday, October 17th, 4:45 Pm.



The floo sprang to life; waking the Headmaster from his afternoon nap. Rubbing his eyes, he watched Bill Weasley, and then all of his brothers, as well as Ginny Weasley, step out of the

fireplace. Arthur Weasley followed them, with a book in his hands. He placed it on the desk, right in front of the Headmaster.



The moment that the old man saw the cover, he clutched at his heart and closed his eyes. Ginny screamed and ran to her Headmaster. Charlie – the calmest and most unflappable of Arthur’s sons – turned to Fawkes. “Please go and retrieve the Head Boy and Girl, as well as Madame Pomfrey.”



In a heartbeat and flash of fire, the Phoenix was gone.



Arthur Weasley looked down at his youngest child who, at the moment, was holding her Headmaster\'s free hand and resting her head on his chest. It was a scene that amazed him – though he knew it shouldn’t.



Another flash brought Harry and Hermione to them. Their wands were out and they stood, back to back. Arthur lifted his hands and immediately, the couple lowered their wands. “What’s going on, Mr. Weasley?”



Still too traumatized to say anything, he just pointed at the book. Taking a step forward, Hermione looked at it for a moment and then gasped. Harry blanched too, as he heard Hermione’s thoughts. She silently shared with him all she knew about the book; its author, and history.



Once Hermione and Harry had shaken off the shock of the books discovery, they waved Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, the twins, and Ron over to them. Ginny refused to move from the Headmaster\'s side and for once, Hermione realized that she was desperately grateful that the younger girl was there and doing what she believed right to do. Looking at them all, she moved her gaze from one to the next, in turn. “We have a serious problem. That’s not news, I’m sure, but it’s true. If Molly has been learning to use spells from that book, what we’re facing is more than just what Harry and I learned yesterday.”



That caused several raised eyebrows. “Cho Chang found us yesterday afternoon, and brought us proof that your mother was cursed, by way of a potion that was fed to her somehow, sometime last spring, probably. It might have even been on the two-year anniversary.” Arthur’s face drained of what color had remained after the finding of Grindelwald’s book. The look on his face told them that he had a pretty good idea of when it might have happened and was horrified to think that attending that one party had caused such a problem.



Hermione didn’t want to call that day….their memorial day….what the press had taken to calling it: Harry Potter Day.



Turning to face the Headmaster, she saw that his eyes were closed and that he was holding onto the chair with both hands, while Madame Pomfrey tended him. It was the first really visible sign Hermione had ever seen of the Headmaster\'s true age. It was a very worrisome sign.



“The Headmaster told us a bunch of stuff when we met with him here this morning – but the most important parts are these. One - part of dealing with that curse means we’re going to have to find some way of convincing Molly to challenge me to a duel just before or after the ‘thanksgiving’ party here at the school. Second, we have to find a way for Molly into asking Rita Skeeter to be her second.”



Arthur looked at Hermione, with a slight, sly expression on his face; as if he was starting to put pieces together. Hermione went on. “Harry and I are betting that I can defeat Molly while not hurting her at all, but at the same time enraging Rita enough so that she will do something stupid and tip her hand. She’s most certainly involved in all of this, or she knows who is. We’re pretty certain that Brooksby Nott-Carrow is somehow part of it. We need to be able to question Rita under Veritaserum and for long enough that we can get at all she knows.”



It was a lot for the Weasley brothers to take in, but they were all smart and saw the logic of it. Bill and Charlie, particularly, knew how foul and loathsome Grindelwald’s book was and, by logical extension, how far down the dark path their mother had gone. Not a single one of them wanted anything to do with the book and each was horrified by its presence in their family home. It was something with which not even Borgin or Burke would have had willing contact.



Finally, the Headmaster regained his composure long enough to look up at all of them. In a voice that was shaky, he said, “Destroy it. Destroy it now.”



Harry stepped forward. “Dragon fire, Sir?”



His voice….the commandment in it was unmistakable and brooked no dissent. “Yes, Harry. Just get it done. Its presence here must never, ever be known.”



Summoning the book to his right hand, Harry held his left out to her and the two disappeared; leaving the older Weasleys, save Ron and Ginny, and the medi-witch, gaping like fish out of water at their ability to apparate within the grounds of Hogwarts. The twins, in particular, were thunder-struck.



“They didn’t”



“Just do”



“What we think”



“They did, did they?”



To the extent that their twin-speak was sometimes annoying, it also served to highlight a circumstance that was weird or memorable. Grinning, Ron nodded. “They’ve been doing that since September. I think that Harry figured it out first.”



Ron had thought to himself that his best friend must have formed some kind of weird, fantastic relationship with the castle itself. Seeing Harry and Hermione disappear within the castle was unnerving, but not really more so than watching the elves come and go. What he was much less sure of was whether Hermione had also learned to come and go like Harry did. He hoped that Harry would teach him, too…..but it was more wishful thinking than anything else. Harry and Hermione were just too different. Powerful beyond description, to be sure, but also….somehow set apart. He wondered if his relationship with Luna was going to let him feel what Harry felt with Hermione. Loving Luna had certainly changed his life.



A punch to his arm completely disrupted his train of thought.



“Ow!” Looking at Fred, who had a grin on his face; Ron launched himself and hit his brother back, in approximately the same place.



“Stop it, you two!” Arthur Weasley was fuming. It was bad enough that the Headmaster was not feeling well, but to have his boys acting up and embarrassing him in the old mans’ presence was unconscionable.



George got it at the same moment that Ron did, and thankfully, reached out and pulled his twin brother back. Once Fred had stepped back, Ron mouthed at him: “Leave Harry alone.”



The older of his twin brothers simply nodded. They had not stayed at Hogwarts for their NEWT’s, but that didn’t make either of them stupid. If he were Ginny, he’d be smirking; knowing that Harry was the one who had given them all of his Tri-Wizard Tournament winnings, and that because of that, they’d never prank him or Hermione. Besides, George was clear on the fact that poking Harry was like poking a dragon that had really bad hemorrhoids – a quick, efficient way of dying.



More minutes passed and with each minutes passing, their nerves frayed that much more. Eventually, their patience was rewarded. A very tired-looking Head Girl and Boy appeared. They walked to the Headmaster\'s desk and looked at him. “It’s done, sir. It took a while, but we did it. There’s nothing left of the accursed thing. It’s truly gone.”



“Very good, you two. I will share Ms. Chang\'s memories with Arthur and his children. I want you two to take the rest of the night off. We’re back at the Wizengamot tomorrow morning, for the investiture ceremony, and you have to look your best.”



The two exhausted teenagers looked at him, grateful for the dismissal; activated their private portkey, and disappeared.