Chasing the Truth

All known characters found herein are the property of J.K. Rowling. Only borrowing her genius. They will all be put back where they belong when the story is done. And there is no money being made off this. Purely for everyone\'s enjoyment. Thanks so much.

Chapter One: A Weasel Among Us
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\"We shouldn\'t be meeting here, \" the voice was low. The words hissed out were coated with a healthy dose of anger. \"It\'s dangerous to meet like this.You\'ll have to trust me to handle things!\"

\"Trust you? Why should I trust you. You are, after all, a Weasley,\" the smooth, cultured voice replied with disdain. It was obvious that the speaker did not like what he\'d been told.

\"That\'s right. I\'m a Weasley. The Weasley who has all of the convicted Death Eaters in hiding and who kept them frolifelifetime of sorrow and suffering in Azkaban. I\'m the Weasley who has kept the spirit of Voldemort alive. The Weasley who put his neck on the line for the cause!\" the first voice retorted.

Hermione Granger stopped dead in her tracks. She couldn\'t help but overhear the conversation as the voices carried from around the corner. Her heart freezing at the words that spewed forth. \"I\'m the Weasley who has kept the meetings secret from the MInistry and the one who has provided funding to those in hiding. It\'s best you not forget that! Nor who is the one responsible for your not being in hiding with the rest!\"

\"Look, Weasley. You may have gone to great lengths to protect the rest of the Death Eaters, but I do not need your help. I can keep myself free from prison, thank you very much,\' the second voice snapped. Hermione shivered. She knew the owner of that voice as surely as she knew her own name. Lucius Malfoy.

\"Remember one thing, Malfoy. I alone was responsible for \'losing\' the paper work that would send you and the rest of the Death Eaters to Azkaban. I intend to keep the movement alive, to weed out the mudblood infestation, as Voldemort originally planned.\'

Hermione felt her stomach churn in disbelief. She was glad she was hidden behind a corner of the hallway. Had she not been, she would have hexed both parties of the conversation. Then she would have been in for it. It would have put her position with the Ministry in jeopardy, and she did like her job. Research seemed to suit her intellect well. It was stimulating and she rarely had to do the same thing twice. No, it was best that she was hidden from view. Being one of the afore mentioned mudbloods, confronting them would have done her no good. Had they known she was there, they would have done something horrible to her.

\"You\'re not man enough to take Lord Voldemort\'s place!\" Malfoy snapped, loosing some of the sophistication that generally oozed out in his voice. She heard a derisive chuckle.

\"And I suppose you think you are?\"

\"I have a better handle on the Death Eaters and the mudbloods than you ever will, Weasley. Best not to forget that,\" Lucius Malfoy sounded as if he were ready to use a Forbidden right then and there.

\"Be that as it may, I am still the one who has kept all of them, as well as your sorry arse, out of prison. Best not to forget that, Malfoy,\" the words echoed softly up the empty hallway.

Hermione held her breath, keeping her fingers crossed that this would be the end of it. She was late back from lunch, and she had a particularly nasty curse she was working on that she needed to get back to. The faint clicking noise of men\'s heeled shoes hitting the floor washed out her musings.

Poking her head round the corner, she saw the the two of them were walking away. Lucius Malfoy held his cane in one hand, the silver of the snake\'s head glittering in the light of the corridor. He held himself with the same lithe grace she had seen him use when she\'d been a student at Hogwarts. Had he not been evil\'s own, incarnate, she might have found him attractive. The familiar red head of Percy Weasley parted company from the other man and retreated down the hall toward his office. She glared daggers at his back. She should have known that his sudden reversal after Voldemort\'s return was made public had been nothing but a smoke screen.

She could remember it all clearly. Once Cornelius Fudge had publicly declared that Voldemort was once again a very real threat to the Wizarding world, Percy had promptly come out. He\'d declared that he had known all along that Voldemort was alive and that Harry hadn\'t lied about his encounters with the Dark Lord after the Tri-Wizarding tournament. He\'d even joined the Order, saying he would be only too proud to help rid the world of Voldemort and his ilk. It had all been nothing but lies.She should have seen him for the snake he was.

Now, she knew him for who and what he was. He should have been sorted into Slytherin, the snarky git. It would crush his parents to find this out. Arthur and Molly Weasley had happily accepted Percy back into the fold, as if nothing had happened or changed, when he\'d done his turn about. Now, to find out that he was attempting to fashion himself the new Dark Lord. It would kill them. She would never have known the truth, had Ron not been late for the lunch date she\'d had with him and Harry. Because Ron had gotten to the little cafe tardy, the meal had been pushed back and she\'d found herself running behind her designated lunch break.

Taking one last peek around the corner to ensure that no one was in the hall, Hermione stepped out of her hiding spot and made her way up the corridor. She had to get back to her lab and continue working on the curse she\'d been assigned. She was trying to find a counter-curse for it. Hopefully, her research partner would be late back from lunch as well. Then she wouldn\'t any any crude comments about her mismanaging her time.

The heels of her sensible shoes made clacking noises as she hurried up the deserted hall toward the small section of the Ministry that had been set aside for the Department of Curse Research and Development. The lab and ajoined office were in the bowels of the Ministry building, but she didn\'t mind. It kept many of the people who worked there out from under her feet. It was hard enough managing with her research partner there.

She wasrelieved not to encounter anyone as she continued up the halls toward her lab. She was too lost in thought to want to be disturbed by anyone. Her feet took her back to her lab door without any conscious thought required on her part and she found herself staring absently at the heavy wooden door. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she reached for the knob, twisted it and pushed the door open. She stepped in, moved over to her personal table, and dropped her bag onto it.

\"So good of you to finally join us, Miss Granger,\' the silky voice startled heom hom her musings. She looked up to find both her research partner and the Minister staring at her expectantly.

\"Erm.... I\'m sorry to be late. My lunch date was tardy and I couldn\'t just.....\" she began explaining, but stopped when she saw that irritating, raven colored eyebrow slant up in disbelief. She was still likely to have fits when she thought about the day she\'d come in to work to find a scene similar to the one she was presented with now.

It had only been three months prior to this day. Like today, she had come back from her lunch period to find both Minister Fudge and the very familiar figure of Professor Severus Snape standing in her lab. Her former teacher had been staring about the neat and tidy room with something akin to disdain scrawled over his pale face. Fudge had been giving her a smile that she knew spelled nothing but trouble. \"Ah, Miss Granger. So lovely to see you,\" Fudge had said with far too much cheer forced into his voice.

\"Minister. Professor Snape,\" she\'d nodded at them b won wondering what the one man she\'d disliked most in her life was doing in her work lab. She had never gotten along with the good Professor, and that hadn\'t changed since she\'d graduated Hogwarts with the highest scores on each and every test in the history of the school. \"To what do I owe this honor?\"

\"Those of us who run the Ministry have noticed that you work far too hard down here, Miss Granger, and we\'ve decided to bring on some extra help to lighten your work load,\' Fudge had told her, his voice saccharine sweet. She\'d crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the two of them, waiting for someone to jump out of the corner and yell \'Got\'cha!\' at her for the joke. Unfortunately, nothing of the sort had happened.

Hermione\'s gaze had gone pointedly to where her former Potions teacher had been standing. She had hoped that this was turning out the be a bad dream, brought on by the slightly off curry dish she\'d eaten at lunch. Her hopes had been dashed when Snape had given her a smug smile, just tilting up one corner of his lip in his famous, conceited fashion.

Fudge had spoken up again, not aware of her musings. One of his hands moved up to rest upon Snape\'s shoulder. The man\'s black gaze went to the spot where the offending appendage touched his body then back to Fudge\'s face, his eyes narrowed in warning. The Minister quickly removed his hand while he continued to speak. \"Severus here is your new assistant. He is, other than you, the most qualified we\'ve ever seen here.\"

\"You can\'t be serious!\" she\'d glared at Snape. He\'d returned it with a look of satisfaction that lead her to believe he would make her life hell. But Fudge had been serious. Severus Snape had been assigned to the Department of Curse Research and Development with her, and they had been at each other\'s throats since that very first day.

The sounds of Fudge making his good-byes brought her attention back to the present. The Minister was just stepping out the door and she swung her gaze back to her partner. Snape\'s black stare was locked on the spot where she still stood. She ignored his questioning look and made a show of organizing her already organized personal property. She wasn\'t up to tackling his terrible attitude quite yet after her startling discovery in the hall.

\"I\'m certain you had a satisfactory...... date?\" he asked her, even though she knew he didn\'t care one way or the other if it was satisfactory. She stared at him a moment as she pondered what sort of reply she should make. Then she caught the emphasis he put on the word \'date\' and it was all she could do to keep from scowling at him. What ever she did on her off time was her own business, and he bloody well knew it. He also knew that, even if she did have a date, it was nothing she would ever be willing to share with him.

\"It was absolutely perfect,\" she replied in as sweet a tone as she could manage. It brought his damned brow up again, but she refused to rise to the bait. Instead, she headed over to the table that held her current project and did her best to give her attention back to it. The problem that kept her from focusing completely was one Severus Snape as he moved over to stand next to her, watching over her shoulder as she tried to work. She could feel his black eyes boring into her and she tried very hard to ignore the feeling. As always, it wasn\'t an easy task to accomplish.

\"I gave the matter some thought while on my lunch hour,\" his words filled the deafening silence of the lab. One long, elegant hand gestured to the work laid out before her. She couldn\'t help the tiny sensation that tingled inside of her that the sound of his voice caused. It had always done that to her. She had never been able to place her finger on the exact reason why, but she had come to the conclusion that it was perhaps better for her not to know. \"I think I\'ve come up with a solution.\"

\'Really?\" she asked, truly interested. Some stupid moron had gone and altered a perfeclty harmless spell until it had become a deadly curse. The curse had been dubbed Wormworth\'s Laughing Death, which was precisely what it had done to the poor creator. None of the talented Medi-Witches on staff at St. Mungo\'s had been able to save him as he\'d chortled and sniggered his way to his grave. Officials were afraid of it spreading, and so it had been turned over to Hermione to work on. Trying to take it back to it\'s original state was useless, as the curse had proven stubbornly resistant.

Hermione listened intently as her partner went on to explain the properties of the curse and what counter-curse he thought would prove effective in battling it. Much as she hated to, she had to admit that Severus Snape knew what he was talking about. He wasn\'t just a Potions Master. He was well versed in a vast array of curses, hexes, spells, and charms. He was proving to be a valuable member of the research team. Which chapped Hermione\'s ass to no end.

Severus went over bits and pieces of curses and pulled out parchments to reaffrim his thoughts as he explained what he had found in his own research. She hated to admit that she was impressed. He had hit on things she hadn\'t yet considered. Perhaps there was a chance to end this curse once and for all. Before any more lives were taken. They discussed what to do next, after which he returned to hisk tok to do more work on his theories. She cast her eyes down to the papers before her, trying to work his discoveries into her own developments.

When the initial excitement of the discovery wore off, Hermione found her thoughts turning back to the conversation she\'d overheard in the hall. It was still something of a shock to her to find that Percy Weasley was a bloody back-stabbing bastard who wanted to become the new Voldemort and rid the Wizarding world of people like her. Worse yet to know that the Death Eaters everyone was looking for hadn\'t escaped. They\'d been hidden away. Surely someone at the Ministry had to know that it had been a inside job? Perhaps she should go to someone and tell them what she had overheard. But who? And why should they believe her? Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she didn\'t notice she was being studied.

Severus was not happy to be working at the Ministry. Nor was he happy to have been placed with the Know-It-All Gryffindor Hermione Granger. But he was here for a reason, and he\'d be damned if he\'s let the girl foul things up for him. He had to admit, even if it was just to himself, that she knew what she was about in the field of curses. She could think faster than most, and she had a head for finding a way to solve any problem she was presented with.

Like this very moment, for instance. She was preoccupied with something. He could tell that by the way her eyes had glazed over with that far-away look. It was something she did when she was working on ways to reverse curses. Somehow, as he watched her now, he got the distinct impression that this thought process was nothing to do with work-related problems that needed solving. She had been distracted when she\'d returned from her lunch. It had been for that reason that he\'d made the comment about a satisfactory lunch date. So far as he knew, she was not currently involved with someone. Which was good, because it meant she could give all her attention to the task at hand.

He studied her silently, wondering what was occupying the mass quantities of brainpower she used daily. It was obviously nothing that was to do with solving the issue at hand.. He knew that much because she wasn\'t scribbling notes as she thought. She held her quill, had picked it up absently out of habit, but there was no movement from her hand to indicate that she was trying to solve a curse problem. He thought about being a complete bastard and interrupting her with another of his snide comments, but decided against it. If her expression was anything to go by, this was something serious.

He returned his attention to the notes before him, but his mind kept wandering idly over the look that had been on her face when she\'d entered the lab. If he hadn\'t have known better, he would have said that it was almost as if she\'d seen a ghost. Odd way to put it, knowing that she was as familiar and comfortable with ghosts as he, but it was the impression she had given him. Her face has lost all color and her hands shook slightly, but he had noticed the trembling. Something important had happened over her lunch hour. There was a very small part of him that was curious as to what it was, that wished they had a relationship that allowed for such small talk. He crushed that part of him, telling himself her problems were none of his concern. Even if she looked spooked, it wasn\'t anything to do with him.

Severus ignored the girl as best he could the rest of the day, which was pretty damned easy. He\'d been doing just that with nearly everyone all his life, and Hermione Granger was no exception. All he really need do is recall what she\'d looked like on that very first day of his class. It was easy to ignore her warm presence when he could clearly see her hair bushed out about her head, that anxious look on her face while her hand had waved in the air as if she were in some sort of apoplectic fit. Remembering her like that made it easy for him to forget that she was a grown woman now, with a woman\'s body to match.

With a mental curse, he locked those thoughts away. He didn\'t need to have her distract him from his work. He didn\'t even like the silly chit. He was merely here to solve problems. Nothing more. And if Hermione had grown into a rather stunning woman, it was none of concconcern. There were plenty of women out there with a fall of brown hair and vivid brown eyes, with voluptuous, shapely women\'s curves. Not many of them came equipped with a brain that could retain more information than a public library. It was still none of his concern. With a stern reminder to himself that he had a job to do, he dragged his atton bon back to his work and put Hermione \'Know-It-All\' Granger from his mind. Or at least, attempted to.

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Hermione sighed as she struggled through the door of her flat with two bags of groceries, her bag, and a case full of files. She could have shrunk it all down and put it in one container, but she had opted to live in the Muggle world, and most people frowned or ran screaming when something suddenly grew out of nowhere in front of them. She dropped the things she carried onto the surface of the hall table and kicked the door shut with one foot. With a sigh, she dropped her keys into a porcelain bowl on the table top and locked the door. She had wards in place, knowing that anyone with a wand could find their way through the door without them or the key. She just felt safer witr Mur Muggles locks turned.

She carried the grocery bags through to her small kitchenette, taking the few moments needed to put everything away in it\'s place. She put the kettle on for a cup of tea, opening a can of soup to heat in the microwave. She loved the Muggle way, and didn\'t think she\'d ever change. Being a Witch had its rewards, but she related more easily to the simple life. She refused to use magic outside of work, preferring to do things by hand the Muggle way. She found it intensely more satisfying to complete things without magic.

While the water boiled and her meager dinner heated, she checked her answering machine. Two messages from her mum, another from Harry, and a call that sounded rather muffled. Likely from Ron, as he\'d still not managed to master the use of the telephone. She took up her mail, she had been brought in with her, and headed back to the kitchenette to claim her food and beverage.

She ate her soup slowly, looking over her copy of the Daily Prophet and the London Times. She had the soft strains of Mozart playing in the background, mostly for something to kill the silence than to actually enjoy. For that, she\'d pop some rock into her CD player. Once the soup had been eaten and her dishes cleaned up and put away, she went to the small bathroom and ran some water for a bath.

As the tub filled with a mixture of warm water and tea rose scented bath salts, she retrieved her bathrobe, panties,. and clean nightshirt from her bedroom. She piled them on the corner of the sink, yanking off the jeans and sweater she\'d changed into before leaving the Ministry. She didn\'t think the neighbors in her community would grasp the concept of Wizard\'s robes. She tossed the dirty articles into her hamper before picking up a few pins off the edge of the tub. She twisted the long mass of hair up into a makeshift bun and secured them with the bobby pins. Then she stepped into the tub and sank up to her neck in the water, letting the warmth relax her.

As she lay in the tub, the soft strains of Mozart filng ing in from the living room, her mind turned once again to the conversation she\'d overheard in the hall. She was certain that, had they known she\'d been listening in, both Malfoy and Percy would want to see her dead. She was also certain that what she had been privy to was the real thing. Both parties were intent on continuing that which Voldemort had been working for until Harry had struck him down. She couldn\'t keep the information to herself. She had to tell someone.

The first person who sprang to mind was Professor Dumbledore. He and the Order needed to be made aware that the threat of Voldemort was still as strong as it had ever been. She didn\'t think she could find the Order\'s new headquarters. With Sirius gone, many of the members of the Order had felt it wouldn\'t be right to keep the Black house as a base of operations. And while Hermione was a member of the Order, it wasn\'t necessary that she know where they maintained their homebany lny longer. Plus, with the threat of Voldemort gone, the Order hadn\'t met up all that often other than to discuss the possible and rumored whereabouts of the missing Death Eaters.

She would have to go see Albus at Hogwarts. And as it was only just Tuesday, it would have to wait until Friday night at the latest. That meant three more days to think on what she had heard, to try and decide what the best course of action would be. With the decison made, she felt she could now relax in her bath. She settled back, closing her eyes to enjoy the feel of the water soothing the aches in her muscles away.

After half an hour soaking in the tub and another fifteen given over to pamper herself with lotions and powder, Hermione padded from the bathroom into her bedroom where her writing desk was. She sat down in the chair, lifting heill ill to the ink pot. She pulled a peice of parchment paper before her and wrote out the note she wanted to send.

\'Dear Professor Dumbledore,

I have come into possession some information I believe the Order should be made aware of. If oes oes not interfere with any of your plans, I should like to come up to Hogwarts over the weekend to let you know what I\'ve heard.

Please advise me on when the best time would be.

Yours,

Hermione Granger.\'

She cast a dr cha charm on the ink, then folded the parchment up and sealed it with a spell that would keep anyone but the intended recipient from reading it. She moved over to the cage where she kept her owl, offering it a treat to nibble at while she tied the parchment to it\'s leg. When she was sure the note was secure, she looked the white owl in the face. \"Now, Nyssa. Take this straight away to Professor Dumbledore. Don\'t stop for anything. And don\'t leave until he gives you a repUndeUnderstand?\"

The snowy owl hooted, bobbing it\'s head in reply. She ran two fingers gently down the breast feathers of the animal, smiling at it soflty. Then she moved to the window, the bird perched on her arm, to open the window. The owl hooted once more, then opened it\'s wings and leapt from her arm, taking flight with an ease that Hermione admired. When she could no longer see the owl, she shut and locked the window, then moved to the living room to go over the day\'s maNothNothing to do now but wait for Dumbledore\'s reply.