A Different Kind of Magic--UNDERGOING EDIT

No warnings for this chapter.

Chapter 44- Quantum Leap


A joyous, if sparse, Order of the Phoenix gathered in the Weasley formal dining room for the hastily secured meeting regarding Harry’s secreted note. Remus Lupin pumped hands with the men and gave bone-cracking hugs to the women. Petite Ava Longbottom shyly took a chair next to him, her hand ensconced in his own under the table.

“How did you manage them to let you out of there so soon, Remus?”

“This gal by my side is quite the smooth talker. You’d think she’s been taking lessons from Rabastan.”

The large man at one end of the table harrumphed his response.

“Where’s Hermione?” asked the Headmistress, anxious to begin.

“I’m here,” said the voice from the doorway. She stood with eyes transfixed to the person across the room from her.

Remus stood, adjusting his brown waistcoat and clearing his throat. He slowly walked around the table with hands outstretched to the woman he had kidnapped in a fit of grief and insanity.

“I owe you the greatest apology one person can give another, Hermione. I will understand if you see fit not to forgive, hell, even if you hate me. Please realize nothing I can say or do will make up for how I have acted.”

Lupin bowed his head in front of her, shamed. To his great surprise, her small hands clasped his firmly.

“Remus, I could never stay mad at you. I forgive you. We’ll get Teddy back, I promise.”

Aging eyes beseeched her own, searching for the truth.

“I mean it, Professor. We’re going to find him.”

“You, my dear, have the kindest heart and keenest mind of anyone I’ve met. I’m undeserving of your forgiveness. Thank you.” His cheeks were wet as she pulled him into a long, gentle hug, patting his back very motherly way. Ava was weeping softly as well, with Minerva taking a close second in the dry-eye department.

“Oh would you two just sit down this isn’t a bloody family reunion!” Minerva snapped to hide her fallibility.

Grinning like a couple of idiots they joined the group at the table. Hermione sat one chair in from Rabastan. To her right sat Harry, Ginny and Arthur.

“Welcome back, mate,” nudged Arthur to his old friend.

Harry stood peremptorily, waving the much-viewed parchment before him. “Most of you have had a chance to look at this. For those of you who have not, Remus, Ava,” he looked at each of them in turn, “someone dropped this into my pocket as I was just about to Floo home from the Ministry a couple of days ago.”

Harry read the inscription and described his and Hermione’s deductions so far. “In addition to the ink and paper, the handwriting is familiar to the Headmistress.” Harry sat while Minerva rose from her seat.

“There are very few people whose writing I am able to place a name to after all of my years as a teacher and faculty member. This particular handwriting is very distinctive. I am rather inclined to think the originator of the message must surely have guessed we would identify him.”

“Him?” asked a puzzled Arthur.

“Yes,” she continued, “I am almost one hundred percent sure the author of this message is none other than a former Slytherin student of mine. Draco Malfoy.”

“Malfoy!” shouted six voices at once. The excited chatter that followed was brought to order by Minerva’s brief use of the Sonorous charm to boom, “We will have order!”

Upturned faces looked to her expectantly. “Now, as I was saying, there can be no doubt in my mind Draco wanted us to know he wrote the letter. The question begs, what is he referring to and for goodness sakes, where in the world is he directing us to? Regardless of why, he is trying to tell us something. It has to be important.”

Harry piped in, “I’m positive I saw Malfoy at the Minister’s residence this past week. The new head of the Auror department, Sterling Kisklove, sacked me from that particular job and put me back at Gringott’s just today. I think the timing is suspicious. I was second-guessing myself all week but now that you are sure the writing is Malfoy’s, it’s got to be him.”

“What would Draco be doing at the Minister’s estate?” Hermione wondered aloud.

“I have heard no such thing,” intoned Rabastan. “If his presence is a sure thing at the Minister’s residence, there has to be more going on than meets the eye. It’s my job to be up on most semi-private security matters that affect Shacklebolt. If they’re keeping that information from me, it must be a top security matter.”

“Very intriguing,” Minerva mused. “We still need to figure out where the note is referring to in order to set up a watch detail. It does us no good to know of the author and his presence without something more concrete to go on.”

Arthur spoke up. “The note refers to ‘those whom we did apprehend,’ does anyone think this could have anything to do with Severus and Teddy’s disappearance?”

Remus jumped up excitedly. “It makes sense!” he cried. “The Malfoy’s disappeared along with Yaxley and a few other Death Eaters after the war. There have been rumors of Draco being sighted, but nothing concrete. His father has always been an underhanded bastard. I wouldn’t put it past him to kidnap an innocent child who happens to be my son. They’d be stupid to think we disbanded the Order in light of everything still happening. He would know I’m an Order member and hit us where it hurts most; our children. Severus was a Dark colleague of his that was basically bound for Azkaban or death prior to his mysterious disappearance from under the Ministry’s noses from the Manor. Don’t you see? If the Malfoy’s are hiding out at Shacklebolt’s, they could be conspiring with the Ministry!”

“In what way? That sounds preposterous!” Minerva waved her arms indignantly.

“Why else all the secrecy?” Lupin continued. “Rabastan doesn’t know about it. We know for sure they’re after the same Prophecy, because Rabastan was the one who got us the copy. All of a sudden he was shut out of everything pertaining to it. Now we have evidence the Malfoy’s, if not hiding out at Shacklebolt’s, are at least conspiring with him somehow. We all know that dumb cow Umbridge is a classic politician, she’s too busy trying to save both sides of her face at once to mastermind wiping her own arse without an assistant.”

This brought an appreciative chuckle from around the room.

“From what Rabastan’s told us, the Prophecy was found in a stash of the Dark Lord’s horde of goodies after Harry knocked Voldemort off his block. It would make sense that Lucius would have more of an idea how to go about deciphering it than anyone else in the Ministry. If my theory is correct, he could even be behind a lot of this re-organization within the Ministry of Magic, the release and pardon of Death Eaters, no disrespect intended Rabastan, and the play to distract the public while hiding their interest in this so-called Prophecy. They must know something we don’t know, and knowledge is power. If Draco sent us this note, he is obviously betraying his father in some way!”

The stunned room was silent. It was an incredible theory. It made sense, but no one wanted to believe it. The implications of Lucius Malfoy having a hand in running the Ministry were too many and far-reaching to comprehend at the moment.

“It could be a trap,” Harry murmured.

Even the unshakeable Rabastan seemed rattled. “All this time, right under my nose, and I never suspected a thing. I must be getting pretty thick in my old age.”

Minerva cast him a pitying glance. “Rabastan, you can’t be expected to figure out everything on your own. We have some of the best minds in Wizarding Britain at our disposal and it’s taken us well over a year to even get this far. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “Harry is right. It might be a trap. We have to be prepared to defend ourselves.”

Her Deputy nodded; his scar twisted his frown into a detestable scowl, cracking his knuckles in self-deprecation.

Harry enunciated with great care, “I think we need to be extremely cautious from here on out, much more than we have been. If Lucius Malfoy is working behind the scenes it ups the stakes. The gambles we take are much higher now.”

Remus’ skin grew hot from the stress. The old hatred bubbled up inside of him and the blood thundered through his veins with familiar ferocity as he interjected, “I still think Severus kidnapped Teddy and is helping that beast!”

“What just a minute, Remus, you can’t just lump him in the same category as that monster! I know him! He wouldn’t do that!” Hermione was almost apoplectic in her response.

“Remus, we’ve been over this!” Ava gripped his arm worriedly, a tight frown accentuating her loud whisper.

“Stop this, the both of you!” McGonagall shouted over the din. “I’ve had just about enough of conjecture and blame. Professor Lupin, we are well aware of your sentiments regarding Severus. In my opinion he is innocent until proven guilty. We will give him the same benefit of the doubt we would any Order member at this time. Hermione, we also need to face the possibility, no matter how slim, that Professor Lupin is correct.”

“But!-“ both interlopers spat at the same moment.

“No buts, Mr. Lupin, Miss Granger, and that if my final word on the matter!”

Remus’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. He sat back in his chair so heavily the wood groaned in protest. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and fumbled in his coat for a Calming Draught. The reasonable part of his mind took over and he swigged the potion in several large gulps. In short order the hot-headed anger receded and his body relaxed. A remorseful Lupin opened and closed his eyes several times to clear his head as Hermione continued to stare.

Hermione opened and shut her mouth before crossing her arms and shaking her head in confusion across the table at Lupin.

“Miss Granger, Professor Lupin is not remiss in his suspicions either. We need to approach Severus’ loyalty with a measure of caution. Before you berate my hesitation, use your common sense, girl. Surely you see that with a small child at stake, careful measure, on every front, is warranted.”

“Yes, Professor,” Hermione grumbled reluctantly.

“Now, if everyone can hold their tongues and refrain from personal attacks, I would like to hear theories about what young Malfoy is trying to tell us. We already know that the third Sunday of this month is thirty-six hours from now.
Three-o’clock in the morning is the third hour, and there is a laundry run by a Mrs. Xue Dee six streets down from the Shacklebolt residence. Rabastan?”

Taking charge of the group’s focus, he continued. “Mrs. Dee’s laundry has two company vehicles, both easily identified by a smiling basket of laundry on the side of the Muggle carriages, with distinctly oriental features. ‘Mrs. Dee’s’ is painted in both Chinese characters and bold red stickered lettering on three sides. The petrol-fueled vehicles are about half the size of what Muggles call a Lorry, looking like common commercial vehicles. White vans, to be exact.” He sat back down.

Minerva looked pointedly around the table. “Now for the hardest part; I need to know if anyone is aware of a residence or business with three stars on its premise within that area. If we are unable to ascertain the starting location of the note, the rest of the message will be meaningless.”

Despite wracking their brains, no one was able to come up with a starting place.

“Are we all agreed this is the top priority of the Order at this moment?”

Everyone nodded. “Good. Then I want all available Order members to discreetly search the area within three miles, if necessary, of the Minister’s residence. We have thirty-six hours to figure out where to start. The next Order meeting will discuss the next step of the Prophecy. I have postponed the meeting for one week. In addition, Harry, Rabastan, Arthur and Neville will all convene in the Weasley library at nine o’clock tomorrow to finalize our plan of action. Before you object, Professor Lupin, you would add an unnecessary element of unpredictably to the operation. I am afraid you will need to stay either here or at Hogwarts with Miss Longbottom. Yes, Hermione, you will need to stay behind as well. I cannot risk having you taken if this is, indeed, a trap. Meeting adjourned.”

The Headmistress ignored the irritated looks of those left behind, her voice carrying on with Harry as she swept from the room. “Please inform Neville of our plans, Harry… I want him to focus on….,” the words becoming indistinguishable as they faded from earshot.

The rest of them rose and went their separate ways, each conversing quietly of their strategy to cover the most area in the least amount of time.

Hermione stretched as she entered the library. She had had trouble sleeping with all the excitement of the past few days. It didn’t look like she was going to get any rest within the next couple, either.

Rabastan hung back until everyone had gone. He refused Arthur’s invitation of a brandy. “Suit yourself,” Mr. Weasley shrugged, traipsing back to his office.

“Hermione!” Rabastan growled low once the way was clear.

Her head swiveled around in surprise. “I thought you’d gone! Quit sneaking up on me!”

“Turn about is fair play, oh luscious one,” he teased, slipping next to her on the settee. One large arm disappeared behind her back, his hand forcing its way under her bum for a squeeze. “Come back with me, Hermione. My loins are on fire for your sweet caress. You’ve converted my appetite from a slow burn to a dull roar. I won’t be able to sleep tonight if you don’t let me take you.”

“Rabastan, stop it! Someone is going to come in here and see us!”

“So what if they do? Are you ashamed of my attentions?” His countenance hardened as he stilled the groping of her behind, daring her to deny him.

“I’m not ashamed; I just want to keep it between us.”

“You don’t want to deal with your two-faced attraction to me, do you, Hermione? As soon as that fucker Snape is back, you’re going to forget about me and leap back into his arms.”

Did she detect a hint of bitterness in his voice? “Rabastan, we don’t even know if that is who the note is referring you. I’ve already told you I am connected to him, that I love him. I thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” he lied through is teeth, pulling his arm from under her. “I could care less. I merely want to have access to your lovely body when the mood strikes me.”

Hermione eyed him critically. “Men are all the same, aren’t they? You’re all bad liars.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?”

“You wouldn’t be such an ass if you didn’t care what I thought.”

“If that’s what you think, Miss, then you are sadly mistaken.”

“Prove it. If you could care less, walk away and never speak to me of wanting my body ever again. Tell me you feel nothing; want nothing, beyond your own selfish desire.”

His taciturn response left no doubt in her mind.

“That’s what I figured.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Rabastan thrust himself from the settee, obviously angered by her probing. “Men are all the same? Bloody women are the ones that try to complicate everything. I just enjoy a good fuck, and if you think you mean more to me than that, Miss Granger, you’re delusional.”

Rabastan indignantly stormed to the Floo and shouted his destination with a mad flourish. “Hogwarts Deputy Headmaster’s Quarters!”

When he was gone, Hermione wondered, not for the first time, exactly what mess she had gotten herself into this time, and if Severus would ever forgive her for what she had done.