Vain Wisdom All and False Philosophy

Author’s Notes: I must thank my beta, melusin, who has spent much of her time on my story.

---

Chapter Two - No Light, But Rather Darkness Visible

“Is he dead?” Avery rasped throatily, unaccustomed to using his voice for over a year.

“No,” croaked Dolohov, “merely Stunned. I would only be able to achieve real damage if I had my own wand.”

“Never mind that now,” Avery breathed.

Both men ran as fast as their malnourished and vulnerable bodies would allow down the dark stone corridor. Stopping from time to time to catch their breath, they took the opportunity to inspect the various cells they passed.

“How much time do you think we have?” Avery questioned, holding his side, bent over with his back against the grimy wall.

“I told you,” Dolohov’s body slid down the wall opposite, “ I was only able to Stun the pig. Probably not even a good one at that. It won’t be long before another Auror takes his shift.”

Avery finally rose from his crouched position, pushing his filthy matted hair out of his face. “Come on, we need to find Macnair first.”

Both men approached the end of the corridor with their backs pressed against the cold walls. They waited, ears strained for the sound of footsteps that might echo around the screams and moans of the inmates.

“This would be so much easier if the Dementors were still here.”

“Shh!” said Avery angrily.

Dolohov continued as his panicked mind raced, “Perhaps we should have sent word to Lestrange or Amycus. They could have asked the Dark Lord to send the Dementors or maybe-”

Avery lunged from the wall toward Dolohov. He gripped his face harshly, and slapped his palm across his mouth.

“I told you to shut up! You may be accustomed to this hell-hole enough to want to go back, but I’m not. Wake the fuck up, Antonin! We failed our mission for the Dark Lord and were left here to rot. He doesn’t give a rat’s arse about us anymore. It is completely up to us, including figuring out a way to get back in his favor.”

Avery cast one more disgusted look over his shoulder before he turned left, down another corridor.

“Here. You passed him. He’s right here,” whispered Dolohov.

Avery ran back down the corridor to inspect the cell Dolohov was peering into. In the far corner was a partially clothed mass of bruised skin.

“Macnair!” Avery called to the body.

No movement.

“Macnair, get up! We’re getting out of here!”

Macnair woke with a start, shrinking away from the two shadows standing outside the bars of his cell.

“Avery?” croaked Macnair, disbelief etched on his face that they had actually accomplished this task.

“Who the hell else would it be? Now come here!”

Macnair shakily rose from his makeshift excuse of a bed which consisted of a pile of soiled cloths.

“What is that?” Macnair questioned as he grasped the wall next to him for support.

“What?” said Dolohov.

“That noise?”

The moment these words issued dryly from Macnair’s mouth, a third shadow pounced on Dolohov and Avery from the right. Fear in his eyes, Avery immediately grabbed the figure by the hair to punch him swiftly across the jaw.

“Stop!” the man screamed, a moment before he was kicked relentlessly in the ribs. His body collided loudly with the metal bars.

“For Merlin’s sake, it’s me, you filthy Muggle-duelers!”

“Fucking hell, Nott, what the hell do you think you are doing sneaking up on us like that?”

Nott looked up angrily at Avery, swatting his arm away as he stood up on his own.

“I was trying to be quiet so I wouldn’t alert any straggling guards, unlike yourself!”

“How’s it going on your end?” Dolohov questioned seriously.

Nott sighed, grasping his ribs as he leaned against the bars of Macnair’s cell.

“Everything is going as planned. Goyle overpowered his Auror to nick his wand so he could release Rodolphus. By the time Rodolphus let me out, they were already on their way to Malfoy and Rabastan.”

Macnair finally dragged his malnourished body to the bars of his cell, startling Nott as he unintentionally slammed against them.

“Wonderful. Weak excuses for Death Eaters will soon be wandering around in the bitter cold right in front of the prison. Just how the hell are we supposed to get off this damned island?”

“Don’t worry,” said Avery quietly, as he pointed his wand at the lock in the bars. “Malfoy took care of it.”

*** *** ***

Hermione finally stopped talking to herself.

Well, not exactly, she at least stopped talking to herself when someone else was in the room. It took a couple of days to break her embarrassing habit, but she expected no different after a summer of complete solitude.

Rubbing crusty sleep from the inner corners of her eyes, Hermione kicked off the heavy grey duvet from her four-poster and lifted her body with a slight moan. Her moan was answered by a sleepy whimper in the corner of her bedroom.

Our bedroom, she corrected herself. She kept forgetting that Ginny now occupied the other four-poster in the room.

Reaching for her familiar pale blue night robe, Hermione silently moved to her dressing table. Never a pretty picture in the morning are you? No amount of newly developed skill at taming her hair would ever rid her of the bushy brown mess created from a fitful sleep. Adding to the ghastly image, thick purple patches framed the skin under her puffy, pink-rimmed eyes.

Ginny, Ron and Harry had kept her up well into the night, guessing what could be discussed at this evening’s Order of the Phoenix meeting. Harry seemed especially agitated during their exchange.

“We haven’t had a meeting in weeks, months even. I know something must have happened for Professor Dumbledore to call one.”

“I don’t see the point in wasting time discussing it, Harry, since we will obviously know soon enough.” In truth, Hermione was desperate to discover why the meeting had been called, but she still meant her words. She just wanted to go to sleep.

Order members would begin to trickle into number twelve, Grimmauld Place before supper time. Even though it was not necessary, Mrs. Weasley refused to entertain such a large party of people in the kitchen without proper food available.

Shaking last night’s thoughts from her head, she continued with her morning preparations. Hermione did not enjoy getting up early, but out of habit she found it essential to be the first one to use the lavatory. Six years sharing a room and bathroom with beauty queens such as Lavender and Parvati had rendered her traumatized.

Making sure to don her larger and more reserved bath robe, Hermione continued on tip-toe out of her bedroom to the bathroom at the other end of the landing.

In a melancholic sort of way, she thought of tonight as a special occasion since she would be socializing with so many people she had not seen in months.

What other reason do you need to finally shampoo your hair? She was in for a long fight with her bushy mane.

She had finally mustered the courage to shake her habit of using cheap Muggle products and pay a visit to that colorful corner in the Apothecary at Diagon Alley. She may have recently taken more of an interest in her appearance, but cosmetics and hair products were so foreign to her that shopping for them was intimidating.

She detested taking a long time in the shower when she knew there were other people in the house in need of it as well. After casting a quick Drying Charm to her long locks, she flicked her wand to remove the wet mist from the mirrors and walls. Upon seeing no one on the other side of the bathroom door, Hermione crept back to her bedroom.

“Mornin', Hermione.”

“Good morning, Ginny.”

“You’re up early. We barely fell asleep a few hours ago.”

“I know,” she sniped. No thanks to all of you. Hermione frowned at the thought.

Sitting up in bed, lazily stretching, Ginny was completely oblivious to Hermione’s mood. It was too early to be naturally perceptive.

“I wonder who’s coming tonight? Harry told me that Sirius and Remus might decide to stay here after the meeting.”

Hermione smiled at the proposal. Harry’s uncles, if not by blood then definitely by choice and admiration, would be wonderful company for him. Harry had suffered terribly during the summer before their sixth year, mourning Sirius’ death. It had devastated Hermione to witness his deep aimlessness throughout the first half of their sixth year.

Harry never really asked Sirius how he returned from beyond the veil. There was no coming back, everyone knew that. But whenever the subject was broached, Sirius became extremely quiet and anxious before beginning a new topic of conversation.

That was still yet another project of Hermione’s. She spent hours in the Black library struggling to fathom out the complexities of the veil, what or whom created it, let alone how someone traveled through it.

“Hermione?”

Her head snapped up when she realized this was not the first time Ginny had called her name.

Thoughtful brown eyes met perceptive blue ones. “Yes, I’m sorry, Ginny. What were you saying?”

“Let’s go and get a bit of breakfast and coffee, eh?”

*** *** ***

The noise in the kitchen seemed to get louder and louder by the minute as more people trickled in for the meeting and Mrs. Weasley’s abundant spread.

As old and run-down as the Black family home was, the smell of thick beef stew, and familiar smiling faces almost made it cozy.

Hermione decided to claim her favorite plush armchair by the kitchen fire before everyone started to arrive. This gave her a close proximity for conversation with those seated at the long dinner table and a clear view of the doors leading to the entrance hall.

Slowly sipping her lightly sweetened cup of Earl Grey tea, Hermione cast affectionate glances around the room. In attendance, thus far, were of course Harry, Ginny and Ron. Ginny sat by the fire playing an extremely violent game of Exploding Snap with her beloved brothers, Fred and George. Ron was situated next to his brother Charlie at the end of the dinner table, furthest away from the entrance hall doors. By his wide eyes and open mouth full of stew, Charlie must have been giving him a very good rendition of his latest dragon escapades.

On Ron’s right side, Harry positioned himself comfortably in his chair, legs crossed with his head cradled in the palm of his hand, elbow on the wooden table. By the way he leaned into Remus, the extent of his loneliness was exceedingly obvious to those assembled. Hermione understood why it was necessary for Harry to stay under the protection that number four, Privet Drive offered him, but surely it would have been better if he stayed here with her.

After all, if it was safe enough to be here alone, surely the two of us together would have been safer? “And maybe a bit more sane at that.”

“Did you say something, Hermione?” questioned Tonks, who was seated on a stool directly across from her by the fire.

“Oh… no, just wondering who else we are waiting for.” Hermione felt a crimson flush spread over her neck as her hair line began to sweat. She really did need to break this awkward habit of hers.

“Almost everyone is here.” Tonks casually made a show of looking around the kitchen. “Is there anything on your mind you would like to talk about, Hermione? You know I’ll keep your confidences.”

“I do know, Tonks, but no, there’s nothing,” she replied sincerely. Abruptly changing her mind, “You know, I would love to owl my parents or maybe receive one from them….”

“Hermione, I’m sure Dumbledore….”

“Yes, I heard his warning already,” she quickly retorted.

Regardless, Tonks’ eyes seemed to soften at her rudeness. “It won’t be long now I’m sure. Would you like me to talk to him for you?”

Hermione’s expression widened with anticipation as she set her teacup down on the side table. “I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

“Believe me, Hermione, it’s no bother at all.”

“Thank you, Tonks,” she whispered genuinely as she grabbed the hand of her pink-haired friend seated before her.

No words were exchanged as the two women comforted themselves in the small embrace. Such a minute intimacy was greatly needed during dangerous times such as these.

Casually removing her hand, Tonks cleared her throat as she readjusted in her seat. She used the cover of sipping her tea to cast yet another speculative glance at the young lady across from her.

“I must say, Hermione, you look more lovely and grown up every time I see you.”

Not used to such sincere praise, Hermione blushed furiously as she eyed the floor and accepted the compliment with a nod of her head.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you, but I do mean it. Those robes really do flatter you, I hope you know.”

Yes, I do. Hermione quickly chastised herself after such a thought. She truly did not think it attractive to let oneself become vain. She would not say she dressed to impress, per se, but she knew her tattered jeans and collared shirts worn for so long no longer appealed to her.

Like I can wear denim anymore with these hips.

Hermione simply appreciated the appeal so many adult witches found in feminine dress robes. The one she was wearing at the moment, colored a deep forest green, truly complemented the brown in her hair and eyes. The cut of the cloth fell wide on her shoulders, giving a liberal view of her lovely collarbone. She felt more like a woman fully clothed in such a fashion then she did in her many small chemises she wore underneath.

But now was not the time to think such frivolous thoughts as Sirius and Bill strode into the kitchen. An awkward silence fell over the friendly gathering as they eyed the man they had cried over during his funeral service not long ago.

Expecting such a reaction, Sirius painfully, yet playfully, elbowed Bill in the ribs.

“His haircut isn’t that bad. It’s not polite to stare, you know,” Sirius chuckled at the candid expressions around him.

It worked.

“It’s bloody awful. He’s been growing it for so long!” yelled Ginny as she quickly caught on.

“Ginny!”

“She’s right, Mum, you would think he’s on his way for an interview with Rufus Scrimgeour himself.”

“Not on your life, Ron.” Bill knew how to take personal jibes from his family. With brothers like the twins you were forced to get used to it. He was just relieved to take some of the unwanted attention from the nervous friend beside him.

Making his rounds around the room, Bill beamed stupidly as Harry sprang up from his seat to great his godfather.

Seeing him so eager in his greeting, Hermione’s indignation flared once again at the complete isolation she and Harry were forced into by being cut off from everyone in this room.

“Don’t look so down,” Bill teasingly jibed.

She politely rose to hug her friend. “It’s good to see you, Bill. Will your father be here soon?”

“Yes, he will be arriving with Moody and Shacklebolt.”

“Then that would leave Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape,” she inattentively breathed out while moving to the side of Bill. It was meant to be another thought accidentally spoken out loud, but Bill was none the wiser.

“I think I’ll go and greet Sirius.”

Sirius really did not think he was prepared for such a sizeable gathering. It was dreadful enough when these inquisitive intimates cornered him one by one; Merlin knows what they are like in pack. But it was wonderful to see Harry and Remus again. Maybe he would try not to seclude himself as much as he did over the summer.

“Hello, Sirius.”

He defensively turned away from his conversation with Harry to eye whomever was daring to physically stand far to close for his comfort.

“What do you…? Oh, Hermione!” Sirius quickly pulled her into a hug as he chastised himself for such discourtesy. “I apologize, you startled me.”

“It’s all right, really. I haven’t seen you in so long.” She grinned at the smiling face behind Sirius. “I’m sure Harry doesn’t mind the interruption, do you, Harry?”

“You know I don’t.”

“Well, please, sit down, sit down. Now, tell me, how has my beloved house treated you these past months?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at his obvious sarcasm. “If I may be blunt?” Gathering her strength at his smiling nod she said, “It was absolutely horrid.”

“Of course it was. I’m surprised Harry didn’t stay here with you.” He looked expectantly at his godson.

Harry gazed back at them, a startled expression on his face flashed for a second before Hermione answered.

“He had to stay with his horrid aunt and uncle again this summer.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, avoiding their eyes.

“Hmm… Dumbledore,” Sirius said with a shake of his head.

The friendly chit chat was quickly joined by Remus and Ron, which successfully made everyone forget that Sirius was the proverbial elephant in the room. Hermione felt so grateful to have her two best friends back, and thoroughly enjoyed the playful banter exchanged with Sirius and Remus. So lost was she in her enjoyment of the conversation, Hermione took no notice of the arrival of Mr. Weasley, Moody, and Shacklebolt. Neither did she notice the pair of appraising eyes, belonging to the owner of the house, that kept glancing in her direction.

---

Author’s Notes: Again, I must offer my gratitude to my talented beta, melusin.

Chapter title taken from John Milton’s Paradise Lost, Book i. Line 62.

-No, your eyes did not deceive you, Sirius is a main character in this story. More of him and his story to come.

-I prefer writing dialogue, as opposed to one character reacting to his/her environment and emotions. Because of this, I have numerous subplots involving minor characters, so further introductions were needed.

Next up: Omniscient Dumbledore, more of this meeting, and Snape.