Chapter Text
Chapter 8
The month of August had drug along slowly, each of us carrying on our tics of unease- Ron with his Deluminator, Hermione pouring over her book, Harry pacing uncomfortably through the whole house, and my need to clean alongside Kreacher.
Kreacher had turned into an entirely different house-elf. He now wore a crisp, clean towel, and his hair was as fluffy as cotton. He wore the locket Harry had given him like a badge of honor. He worked alongside me, truly turning the house around, the place starting to feel habitable, and almost… cozy.
On the first of September, there was an odd energy in the house. Knowing that a train full of children had gone off to Hogwarts, and we had not joined them… it put all of us on edge.
Kreacher and I were in the kitchen preparing dinner, Hermione and Ron were sitting at the long table, working on some hand-drawn maps and Harry had gone out in his Invisibility Cloak to grab a copy of the Prophet. I heard the front door open and close, and after several moments, Harry’s voice shouted,
“I’ve got news, and you won’t like it.”
Kreacher hustled out of the kitchen to meet Harry in the hallway.
“What’s happened?” Ron asked as Harry entered the room.
He threw the newspaper down on the table with a look of revulsion. On the front page was a large picture of Severus. The headline read:
SEVERUS SNAPE CONFIRMED AS HOGWARTS HEADMASTER
“NO!” Ron and Hermione shouted in unison. Snatching the paper up, Hermione read the story out loud.
"“Severus Snape, long-standing Potions master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was today appointed headmaster in the most important of several staffing changes at the ancient school. Following the resignation of the previous Muggle Studies teacher, Alecto Carrow will take over the post while her brother, Amycus, fills the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.””
I stifled a sob at the mention of Charity Burbage, and Harry came over, wrapping an arm around me, pulling me into him as Hermione read on.
“”I welcome the opportunity to uphold our finest Wizarding traditions and values-‘ like committing murder and cutting off people’s ears, I suppose! Snape, headmaster! Snape in Dumbledore’s study- Merlin’s pants!” Hermione shrieked, making the rest of us jump. She leapt up from the table and hurtled out of the room, shouting, “I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Merlin’s pants?” Ron said, chuckling. “She must be upset. You alright, Ollie?” He asked gently.
I felt Harry shake his head at Ron as I tried to control myself. It had been a minute since I had cried over the woman I had murdered, but the wound was still fresh.
“The other teachers won’t allow this- McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout.” Ron started, trying to change the subject. I wiped the last of the tears away and pulled out of Harry’s arms, going back over to the stove to help Kreacher finish dinner. “They all know that Snape killed Dumbledore. They won’t accept him as headmaster. But who are these Carrows?”
“Death Eaters. Inner Circle.” I said from the stove in a small voice.
“They were there the night Dumbledore died. It’s all friends there now. As for the other teachers, I don’t think they have much of a choice. If they rebel, at best they’ll spend a few years in Azkaban. If they’re lucky. I’ll bet they stay on to try and protect the students.” Harry said, taking a seat at the table.
I went to sit down as well, grabbing my bowl and sitting separated from the rest of them, a sudden feeling of unworthiness overwhelming me. Harry looked at me with sad eyes.
Kreacher came over to the table with the tureen we had been cooking with, and ladled soup into the pristine bowls he had set the table with.
“Thanks, Kreacher.” Harry said, flipping the Prophet over. “At least we know where the greasy git is now.”
We all began to spoon the soup into our mouths, and I was pleasantly surprised by the taste. We had made French Onion soup, Kreacher and I, and a hum of approval from Ron told me we had done alright.
“There’s more of them outside than usual. I wonder if they were expecting us to trail out the door, our trunks in tow, and head for the Hogwarts Express.” Harry said, enjoying his soup.
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot today. It left nearly six hours ago and I still feel the urge to go.” Ron said, a bit sadly.
I bit my lip and pushed the soup away, picturing Draco on the train. It was mandatory that students go back, and I was sure being marked didn’t exempt him from that. I wondered if he had looked for me on the train, checking our usual spot to see if I had magically shown up.
“They nearly saw me come in just now. I landed badly on the top step and the cloak slipped a bit.” Harry said, pulling me from the painful images flashing through my mind of my soul mate.
“I do that every time. Oh, here she is.” Ron said, watching Hermione come back in to the kitchen. “And what in the name of Merlin’s most baggy Y fronts was that about?”
“I remembered this.” Hermione panted, holding up a large painting in a gouache, gilded frame. She placed it on the floor, and grabbed her beaded bag. We all watched as she slipped it easily into her beaded bag, though it defied the laws of physics. The Undetectable Extension Charm truly was a work of art.
“Phineas Nigellus.” Hermione explained as she chucked the bag onto the kitchen table with the typical loud, clanging crash.
“Sorry?” Ron said, confused, but Harry and I both understood at once.
“He’s a former headmaster. He has a painting in the headmaster’s office.” I said, Hermione nodding.
“Exactly. Snape could send Phineas to look in the house.” Hermione said. “But if he tried that now, he’d only see the inside of my handbag.”
“Good thinking!” Ron said, looking impressed.
“Thanks.” Hermione said with a smile, pulling her soup towards her. “Ollie? You all right?”
“Oh, I’m fine. Just.. thinking.” I said, not looking at her.
“Are you-” She started, but quickly cut off. Probably from one of the boys stopping her. “So Harry, what else happened today?”
“Nothing.” Harry responded, sounding distracted. “Watched the Ministry for seven hours, with no sign of her. Saw your dad, though, Ron. He looks fine.”
Ron nodded with a small sigh of relief. It had been decided before the first stakeout that were we to see anyone we knew, it was too dangerous to speak with them.
“Dad always told us most of the Ministry people use the Floo Network to get to work.” Ron said. “That’s why we haven’t seen the toad. She’d never walk. She thinks she’s too important.”
“Anything on that funny old witch, and that little wizard in the navy robes?” Hermione asked.
“Oh, yeah. That bloke from Magical Maintenance.” Ron said, slightly disinterested.
“How do you know he works for Magical Maintenance?” Hermione snapped.
“Dad said everyone that wears navy robes work for Magical Maintenance. What?” He asked at Hermione’s irritated expression.
“You never told us that.” She sniped, and pulled over the various papers they had been looking at earlier. “There’s nothing in here about navy robes. Nothing!”
“Why is it that important?” Ron asked, flustered.
“Ron, it all matters! If we’re going to get into the Ministry and not give ourselves away when they’re bound to be on the lookout for intruders, every little detail matters! We’ve been over and over this, I mean, what’s the point of all these reconnaissance trips if you aren’t even bothering to tell us-”
“Blimey Hermione, I forget one thing-”
I shot Harry a look of annoyance. These two bickered more than anyone else I knew. How they were still friends was beyond me. More or less their unspoken feelings for each other. Harry rolled his eyes in agreement.
“You do realize,” Hermione was saying, “That there’s probably no more dangerous place in the whole world for us to be right now than the Ministry of-”
“I think we should go tomorrow.” Harry cut in smoothly.
Hermione stopped dead, and Ron spluttered over his soup.
“Tomorrow?” Hermione said quietly. “You aren’t serious.”
“I am.” He responded. “I don’t think we’re going to be much more prepared than we already are, do you? Even if we continue to watch the Ministry as we have been, we are putting ourselves at risk of exposure, and the longer we put it off, the farther the locket could be. What if Umbridge already threw it out?”
“Unless,” Ron said, “She’s found a way of opening it and she’s now possessed.”
I had to give it to him, that was a valid point.
“Wouldn’t make any difference to her, she’s already so vile and disgusting as it were.” I said quietly, and they all laughed lightly.
Hermione was chewing on her lip, thinking.
“We know everything we need to know at this point, Hermione. We all know our roles, we know about the Apparition ban and that only higher-ups are allowed to connect their Floos to their homes. We know Umbridge’s office is somewhere on level one from what you heard that bloke with the beard say…”
“I’ll be up on level one, Dolores wants to see me.” Hermione recited.
“Exactly. And we know you get in using those funny coins, or tokens, whatever they are, because I saw that witch borrowing one from her friend-”
“But we don’t have any of those!”
“We will if everything goes according to plan.” Harry continued calmly.
“I don’t know, Harry.. I really don’t know… There are an awful lot of things that could go wrong, so much relies on chance.”
“That will still ring true if we waited another three months. But that’s also three more months of us potentially getting caught out in the open on one of the reconnaissance trips.” I added.
I understood their resistance. We had spent the better part of a month going in turn to watch the comings and goings of Ministry employees under the safety of Harry’s Invisibility Cloak. We had tailed, eavesdropped, and taken copious notes. If we were lucky, one of us would snag a copy of the Prophet from someone’s bag or briefcase. But this was walking into the mouth of the lion.
“All right.” Ron said slowly. “Let’s say we do go for it tomorrow… I think it should be just me and Harry.”
I rolled my eyes and Hermione sighed in frustration. “Oh, don’t start this again! I thought we’d settled this.”
“It’s one thing hanging around the entrances under the Cloak, but this is different, Hermione.” Rob jabbed a finger angrily at the newspaper, from ten days previous. “You’re on the list of Muggle-borns who didn’t show up themselves for interrogation! And as far as anyone knows, Ollie is a missing persons, supposedly done away by Harry!”
“I’ve gotten better at controlling my morphs, Ron. You know that. I even pulled one over you last night.” Ron’s ears went red with a blush remembering that I had convinced him I was Hermione last night.
“And, you’re supposed to be dying from spattergroit at the Burrow. If anyone shouldn’t go, it’s Harry, who has the ten-thousand galleon reward on his head!” Hermione said, struggling to maintain a calm voice.
“Fine, I’ll stay here.” Harry said. “Let me know if you ever defeat Voldemort, won’t you?”
Ron and Hermione laughed but I watched as a flash of pain shot through Harry’s eyes and he quickly covered it by fussing with his hair.
“Well, if all of us go, we’ll have to Disapparate separately.” Ron was saying. “We can’t all fit under the Cloak anymore.”
Harry stood quickly, and Kreacher rushed over to him.
“Master has not finished his soup! Would Master prefer something else? Perhaps the treacle tart to which he is so partial?”
“Thanks Kreacher, but I’ll be back in a minute- er- bathroom.” He shot me a look and I followed after a moment.
“I need my jumper. It’s cold..” I said as Hermione eyed me suspiciously.
I dashed up to the bathroom I knew Harry was heading towards, and found him just as he bolted the door, and fell into my arms. I buckled under his weight, holding him carefully as he began jerking in pain, holding his head. I cast a fast legilimens and found myself in Harry’s head, seeing what he was seeing.
We were gliding along a twilit street, the buildings on either side of us had high, timbered gables, they looked like gingerbread houses.
Germany. But why? I thought to myself.
We approached one of the houses, the whiteness of the hand we were attached to reaching in front of us. We knocked. A thrill of excitement pulsed through our bodies.
The door opened, and a woman who was heartily laughing stood there. Her face fell instantly when she looked into our eyes. The humor was gone, sheer terror replacing it.
“Gregorovitch?” I felt our mouth move, the voice high and cold, the kind of voice you never forgot.
The woman shook her head as she subtly tried to close the door. One of our white hands held it open, preventing her from shutting us out.
“I want Gregorovitch.” Our cold voice said.
“Er wohnt hier night mehr!” She cried, shaking her head. “He no live here! He no live here! I know him not!”
The woman decided her attempt to close the door was fruitless and began backing away from the door instead. Our white hand stretched out in front of us, wand drawn, pointed at the terrified woman.
“Where is he?”
“Das weiß ich nicht! He move! I know not, I know not!”
The wand was raised and a piercing scream escaped her mouth. Two young children came running into the hall. She tried to shield them with her arms, but it was in vain. There was a flash of green light-
“Harry! HARRY! OLLIE!”
I pulled from Harry’s mind, and found us on the floor, me cradling Harry to me as best as I could since he was much larger than I. Hermione was pounding on the door, and I found tears sliding down my cheeks. I waved my hand and unbolted the door, and opened it from where we were, Hermione toppled into the room, but quickly regained her balance. Harry was still clutching his head, but sat up.
“What… what were you two doing?” Hermione asked sternly.
“What do you think we were doing, exactly? It’s not like we jumped away from each other guiltily.” I snapped, my voice shaky.
“You were both screaming.” Ron said, holding his wand out, still looking around for signs of an attacker.
“Oh, a boggart-”
“Harry, please don’t insult our intelligence.” Hermione said with exasperation. “We know your scar hurt downstairs, and you’re white as a sheet. And Ollie ran after you quickly.”
Harry had his head in between his knees, taking deep breaths, and I was wiping my face with a handkerchief Ron had passed me.
“Fine. I’ve just seen Voldemort murdering a woman. By now he’s probably killed her whole family. And he didn’t need to. It was Cedric all over again. They were just… there…”
“You’re supposed to be fighting that connection, Harry!” Hermione cried, her voice echoing around the room. I knew that she came from a place of love and wanting to protect Harry, but she was starting to really piss me off where this was concerned. “Dumbledore wanted you to use Occlumency! He thought the connection was dangerous-“
“I already told you a month ago, Hermione, that Occlumency wouldn’t do anything to help him. What does help is when I go through it with him. It takes some of the weight of the oppressing emotions that Harry feels off of him. I know almost identically what Harry feels. So back off.” I said, my head still pounding and my emotions unchecked from watching a mother and her children be slain for no reason.
“Ollie- He has to stop letting Voldemort in!” Hermione sounded desperate. “Do… do you even try to shut him out, Harry?”
“Ollie already told you I can’t, Hermione.” Harry said, his voice tight. I knew he probably had a raging headache, I know I did.
“Kreacher!” I called out, and the small elf showed up with a pop!.
“Yes, Mistress?” Kreacher asked, bowing low.
“Go and get Harry a pain reliever potion, please.” The little elf nodded and left.
“I don’t get it, Harry. You never really even tried. Do you like having this special connection or relationship or what- whatever-”
She faltered under the look that both Harry and I gave her, Harry standing up to his full height. He could absolutely be intimidating when he wished to be.
“Like it?” He said quietly, and I was very glad his anger was not directed at me right now. “Would you like it?”
“I- no- I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean-”
“I hate it, I hate the fact that he can get inside me, that I have to watch him when he’s most dangerous. But I’m going to use it. And if it’s a jealousy thing of Ollie being able to help me where you can’t, get over it.”
“Dumbledore-”
“Forget Dumbledore. This is my choice- nobody else’s. I want to know why he’s after Gregorovitch.” Harry said, his chest rising and falling with stifled rage.
“Who?” Ron asked quietly.
“He’s a foreign wand maker.” Harry said. “He made Krum’s wand, and Krum reckons he’s brilliant.”
“But according to you,” Ron said, “Voldemort’s got Ollivander locked up somewhere. If he’s already got a Wandmaker, what does he need another one for?”
“Maybe he feels the same as Krum and that Gregorovitch is better… or maybe he thinks Gregorovitch can explain what my wand did when he was chasing me, because Ollivander didn’t know.”
Hermione and Ron exchanged a skeptical look with each other while Harry and I shared a knowing one.
“Harry.. You keep saying that your wand did this magic on its own, but it was you. Why are you so determined not to take responsibility for your own power?” Hermione said, her voice tight.
“I was there, Hermione. Harry was nearly out cold. He didn’t do it. We had no idea where Voldemort was, and his wand found him.” I said, coming to Harry’s defense. I couldn’t fathom why she was always trying to nit-pick on him.
Ron intervened before Hermione could respond. “Look, it’s his choice. Drop it. If we’re to go to the Ministry tomorrow, we have other things we need to be doing right now.”
I nodded in thanks at Ron, not used to him playing the peace-keeper. We made our way back down to the kitchen where Kreacher had the pain reliever potion, and served us all stew and treacle tart.
We stayed up far too late into the night going over every aspect of the plan. When we finally trudged up the stairs to our rooms, we were all dragging our feet. Hermione had taken to sleeping in the old room that she and Ginny had shared when they stayed here the summer before fifth year, Ron stayed in the room he and Harry had stayed in that same summer, and Harry and I took the upstairs brothers’ rooms. Harry was in Sirius’ and I slept in Regulus’ room. I felt an odd pull to Regulus, learning what he had done for his family and against the Dark Lord.
The morning came far too quickly once I snuggled into the now-clean sheets on the bed in Regulus’ room. I had managed to convince Kreacher to go out and get me a fuzzy blanket like the kind Draco was so partial to. It helped me feel close to him, but it also made it nearly impossible to get out of bed on certain mornings.
I heard Ron and Harry talking in the hall before a knock on the door to my room made me shrink further into the covers. The door opened and Harry poked his head in. “Ollie? You up?”
“No.” I grumbled.
He chuckled and walked over to the bed saying, “Scoot over.”
I did as he requested and he wriggled his way under the fluffy blankets with me. “Are you ready for today?” He asked, his voice full of nerves.
“I suppose. As ready as we’ll ever be, honestly. I was able to hold the morph all night, which is a great sign.”
“Are you sure you don’t just want to drink Polyjuice potion? None of us would think any less of you.” He asked, rolling onto his side to look at me.
“No, Harry. I can do it. Plus, if I’m a witch that no one recognizes, I’ll be able to wander easily and claim being lost.” The look of understanding was there on his handsome face, but he still had worry in his eyes.
“I’m- I don’t know if I’m actually ready for today. Logically, my points last night were valid, but… I’m scared. I can’t tell the others that because I have to be the strong one all the time. I’m glad you accidentally ended up with us. Even if I haven’t said so yet.” He kissed my forehead and I smiled.
“I’m glad we’re in an okay place now. It didn’t seem like it when we were at the Burrow. I missed you.” I said, sitting up.
“I missed you too. I mostly just didn’t want to do anything that might set off Ginny.” He said with frustration.
“I know. Did I tell you she Imperiused Charlie?”
“No!” His eyes went wide. “I- are you sure?”
I nodded and did a quick recap of what had happened.
“That explains a lot, actually… I’m so sorry…” He said, genuinely upset by what I had just told him.
“Don’t worry about it. Really. We should probably head downstairs.” I said, eyeing the door. He nodded, and stood up, offering me his hand. We made our way into the kitchen after I popped into the bathroom and Hermione was muttering to herself, poking around in her bag. “Polyjuice Potion…. Invisibility Cloak…. Decoy Detonators… Puking Pastilles… Nosebleed Nougat… Extendable Ears….”
After shoveling our food into our face and quickly getting dressed, we were all standing by the front door. Kreacher was promising to have a steak and kidney pie ready when we returned home.
“Bless him.” Ron said, smiling fondly at the spot the little elf had just Disapparated from. “To think… I used to day dream about mounting his head on the wall..”
We made our way out onto the front step, very clumsily when Harry grabbed my face and looked at me with wild eyes. “Ollie, don’t look.” I blinked, curious, and then a flash of silvery white caught my eye. Lucius Malfoy was one of the Death Eaters watching Grimmauld Place. My heart leapt, and I nearly took a step towards him. He looked pale and bruised, even from here. Almost as he had when he got back from Azkaban. “No!” Harry whispered harshly, and turned on the spot, Disapparating both of us away.
“Harry! How could you!” I said, fighting the lump in my throat as he pulled me into the abandoned theater that we were to use to hide.
“You’ll have to explain to me later why you would want to go to Lucius, but for now, you have to focus. We have a mission. Right?” He asked, grabbing both sides of my face again. I nodded robotically.
“Right.” I whispered back. “I’m sorry.. I- It won’t happen again.”
“I know, love.” He said, kissing my forehead just before Ron and Hermione showed up.
It was quarter to eight, and the Ministry workers never showed up until at least that time. After sitting quietly for a while, Hermione checked her watch and stood up. “Right, she ought to be here in about five minutes. When I’ve Stunned her-”
“Hermione. We know.” Ron said sternly. “And I thought we were supposed to open the door before she got here?”
Hermione squeaked, “ I nearly forgot! Stand back-” She made quick work of the padlock on the door, and then she burst the door open with another spell. She pulled the door almost all the way closed, and looked to me.
“Ollie, you should go ahead and morph. Just in case.” I did as she said, adding several inches to my height, changing my hair to a bright blonde pixie cut, darkening my skin several shades like I had just gotten back from a trip to the beach, and contorting my face into a typical aristocratic sneer, which went perfect with my new streamlined features.
“Bloody Hell. That’s always so strange to watch.” Ron said with a chuckle.
“Here she comes!” Hermione said, quickly throwing the cloak over the three of them. Less than a minute later a small pop announced the little witch’s arrival. She blinked at the brightness of the morning sun hanging over London, and before she could completely catch her bearings, Hermione stunned her.
Hermione and I had caught her before she hit the floor, but Harry and Ron were the ones to carry her into the empty theater. Hermione plucked a few hairs from the witches head and dropped them into her phial of Polyjuice.
Ron in the meantime was digging through the witch’s purse. “Her name is Mafalda Hopkirk. You’d better take this Hermione, and here are the tokens.” He passed her the small card identifying the witch as an assistant in the Improper Use of Magic Office, and the tokens that allowed you access to the Ministry. The golden coins that he passed her were embossed with the letters M.O.M.
Hermione drank the Polyjuice potion that was now a pleasant lavender color and within seconds she stood before them, an identical double to the Stunned Mafalda Hopkirk. She took Mafalda’s spectacles and slipped them on, and I caught Harry looking at his watch out of the corner of my eye.
“We need to hurry, Mr. Magical Maintenance will be here any second.”
They quickly closed the door on the real Mafalda, Ron and Harry slipping under the Cloak and Hermione and I stood standing in open sight, mimicking an idle conversation. Seconds passed before a small pop announced the small, ferrety-looking wizard.
“Oh, hello Mafalda.” He said, looking a bit preoccupied.
“Hello!” Hermione said, her voice shaking slightly. “How are you today?”
“Not so good, actually.” The little wizard answered, looking quite downtrodden. “Oh, hello.” He said, acknowledging me. I nodded in response. My role was the snooty aristocrat. That meant not talking to strangers.
“I’m sorry to hear you’re under the weather," Hermione said, talking firmly over the little wizard as he tried to expound upon his problems. It was essential to stop him from reaching the street. “Here. Have a sweet, perhaps it will help.”
“Eh? Oh, no thanks-“
“I insist!” Hermione said aggressively, shaking the bag of pastilles in his face. Looking rather alarmed, the little wizard took one. I felt bad for the man, for as soon as the sweet touched his tongue he began violently vomiting. He didn’t even notice Hermione rip out a handful of hairs from the top of his head.
“Oh, you poor man! You’d better take the day and rest!”
“No-no…” He was choking on another wave of sick. “I must… not today!”
“There’s no possible way you can work in this state! You should probably go to St. Mungo’s to be checked!” Hermione said rather forcefully.
The wizard fell down to all fours, his vomiting hitting a new level of violent. There were puddles of sick all around us.
“You simply can’t go to work like this!” Hermione cried.
He finally seemed to accept that he was in no shape to work today and he slowly stood up, turning on the spot and vanishing. Ron had the good sense to grab the man’s bag as he vanished, and started rifling through it.
“Urgh…” Hermione groaned, picking up the skirts of her robes so she didn’t step in the sick. “It would have made much less mess to just Stun him too…”
I waved my hand, casting a quick Scourgify to clean the surrounding area.
“Yes, but a pile of Stunned bodies would surely draw more attention. Plus, they would question each other upon waking up, don’t you think?” I said.
“He sure was keen on going to work today, though. Anyways, give us the hairs, Hermione.” Moments later, Ron stood several inches shorter than he normally was, and wearing the navy blue robes that had been in the man’s bag.
“Strange he hadn’t been wearing them today, wasn’t it? Anyways, I’m Reg Cattermole, according to the label on the back.”
“You two wait here. We’ll be back with your hairs, Harry.”
I slipped under the cloak with Harry so it didn’t seem odd that I was in a dark alley by myself. I cast a charm to make the air smell better as I was starting to get queasy myself from the stench of vomit.
“Harry?” I said after a few minutes.
“Hm?” He hummed his response, lost in thought.
“Do… er. Are you still in love with Ginny?” I asked, trying to make small talk, but also just curious.
“Why do you ask?” He looked at me with wide eyes. I could see the hidden panic and fought the eye roll that came to me out of instinct.
“Not because of me, you git. I worry about the lengths that she goes to be close to you… and the ones she takes to move others out of her way. She used an unforgivable on her own brother..” I tried to keep my voice neutral, but that part with Charlie still bothered me more than anything.
“I’ve been thinking about that all morning. I know I need to be focused on what we are doing, but it keeps popping up in my head. I want to say that I’m surprised, but a part of me just… isn’t. And… honestly… I’ve wondered if last year when… you know- that happened, if she slipped me something. Like a love potion or something. The whole thing is so foggy… I’ve wondered it for a while now, but more so since we left the Burrow.”
“I see.” I said, a sudden feeling of dread in my stomach. “Is that… why you avoided me at the Burrow?”
“Yes and no. I’ve told you, part of it was because I was worried you would feel obligated to come on this mission with me, but we see how well that played out. I do love you, Ollie. But, I don’t think that I’ll get a happy ending.” His voice was tinged with sadness, but mostly just a resolute calm. I whimpered and wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
“I will move heaven and earth if I have to so that you can have a happy ending, Harry.” I whispered. His arms were tight around my waist and the comfortable friendship we had slipped into over the last month made me love him more than I ever had when we were dating.
“I know you would, Ollie. But that’s not your job.” He said gently.
“I’m making it my job.” I said, pulling away and looking into his emerald eyes. “After everything, you deserve it.” I pulled away as I saw Ron and Hermione- or Mafalda and Reg, however you wanted to look at it- rounded the corner.
“We don’t know who he is,” Hermione said, passing Harry several curly black hairs, “but he’s gone home with a dreadful nosebleed! Here, he’s pretty tall, you’ll need bigger robes…”
Harry transformed into a wizard more than six feet tall, nearly Draco’s height and, from what I could tell with him facing away from me, very powerfully built. There was something disconcerting about the back of the wizard Harry had turned into. Something that tickled at the back of my brain…
Harry turned around and a sob pulled from my throat and Ron had to catch me as I made to dart away from Harry, who reached out to check on me and I cringed away from him, whimpering into Ron’s chest.
“Ollie, what… what the bloody hell?” Harry said, trying to touch my back in comfort and I shrank away from him again.
“I-I-“ I gulped for air, my head getting dizzy. “Runcorn. That’s who you are. A high supporter of You-Know-Who, but not marked, he’s not in the Inner Circle. My parents tried to sell me off to him… I was to marry him.”
Albert’s face twisted in rage that I knew was Harry’s but it matched the look he had given me when he saw that Draco and I had gotten engaged only a couple of hours after he had met me, telling me we were nearly betrothed.
“Merlin… Ollie…” Hermione whispered.
"Arranged marriages aren't uncommon amongst the twenty-eight..." I said in a choked voice.
Harry walked over to me very slowly, like he was approaching a plains-cat with great caution. “Ollie, it’s me. I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
“Now I don’t feel so bad about giving him that wretched nosebleed.” Ron said, his arms still around me, but talking to Hermione.
Harry grabbed my hand and I whimpered at the contact, but let him pull me to his chest. It all felt so wrong, so I stayed still as a statue.
“I’m sorry. He scares the hell out of me.” I said quietly, stepping away. “Let’s just get this over with, shall we?”
They all nodded quietly and Hermione passed out the tokens. It was nearly nine when we stepped out of the alleyway. Roughly fifty yards away there were spiked black railings that flanked two sets of steps, one labeled GENTLEMEN, and the other LADIES.
“We’ll see you in a minute, then.” Hermione said, grabbing my hand and we descended the steps together. I had never seen an underground toilet and was a bit put off by the whole idea, only for my attitude to be solidified by the grimy black and white tiles.
Hermione and I stood in line, and went into stalls right next to each other, entering by slipping the golden coins into the slot in the door as other witches had.
“Ollie!” Hermione hissed from next door. “We have to flush ourselves in.”
I scrunched my nose and clambered awkwardly into the bowl of the toilet and pulled the chain, sending myself shooting through a short chute and emerging completely dry in a fireplace.
Hermione was just behind me in the fireplace next to me. We stepped out of the way quickly, and looked at the sculpture that was rather imposing in the center of the large atrium. It was horrific, the scene depicted… A witch and a wizard were sitting on ornate thrones, looking down at the Ministry workers and visitors that fell out of the fireplaces below them. Upon closer inspection, Hermione and I both shrank away from it. The thrones were formed from the naked bodies of hundreds of humans… women, men, children… all twisted and pressed together to support the weight of the magical beings on top. Big letters, nearly a foot tall read MAGIC IS MIGHT.
I thought that I might throw up at the grotesque scene, stepping away. I caught sight of Ron and Harry falling out of the fireplaces, and called over to them inconspicuously. We joined the stream of witches and wizards moving forward towards the tall golden gate at the far side of the hall. There was no sign of a pink-clad toad just yet.
Once we finally got past the large golden gate, there were about twenty queues formed, each leading to a different lift. Before we could join one, a voice rang out, “Cattermole!”
I instantly recognized Yaxley’s voice- the distinct Scottish lilt, and awful raspiness was hard to forget.
“I requested somebody from Magical Maintenance to sort out my office, Cattermole. It’s still raining in there.” Yaxley said harshly as he approached us. I kept a hand on Harry’s sleeve, making sure he didn’t turn to look.
“Raining… in your office? That- that’s not good, is it?” Ron said, looking like he would rather melt into the floor than have this conversation, and giving Yaxley a nervous laugh.
“You think it’s funny, Cattermole?” Yaxley’s voice was full of anger. A couple of the witches nearby in the queue for the lift broke off and shuffled quickly away.
“No,” Ron said, “Of course not-”
“You realize that I am on my way downstairs, right?” Yaxley eyed Ron waiting for a reaction, and when he didn’t get one he added, “To interrogate your wife. In fact, I’m surprised you’re not down there holding her hand while she waits. Already given up on her, have you? Probably for the best. Make sure to marry a pure blood next time.”
Hermione squeaked in horror, but when Yaxley looked at her, she turned it into a coughing fit, turning away.
“I- I-” Ron was stammering.
Yaxley pressed on, further intimidating Ron. Harry was absolutely rigid, but kept his face forward. “But if my wife were accused of being a Mudblood- not that any woman I married would ever be mistaken as such filth- and the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needed a job done… I would make it my absolute priority. Do you understand me, Cattermole?”
Ron nodded his head and in an anguished voice whispered, “Yes.”
“Then tend to it now, Cattermole. If my office is not perfectly dry within the hour, your wife’s Blood Status will be in even more doubt than it is now.” The lift opened in front of us, and after a nod and an ugly smile to Harry, who tried to send the same back, Yaxley stomped away towards another lift. The four of us stepped inside, but nobody else followed, possibly scared of even being in Ron’s proximity.
“Merlin… what am I going to do? If I don’t fix it.. my wife… or Cattermole’s wife…”
“We’ll come with you, we should stick together-” Harry started but I was shaking my head no, and Ron interrupted.
“No, that’s mental. We haven’t got enough time. You two find Umbridge, I’ll go and sort out Yaxley’s office- but how do I stop it raining?”
Hermione started giving Ron instructions to use Finite Incantatem, amongst others if that didn’t work. The lift stopped, announcing our arrival on level four, and a couple of wizards joined us on the lift, as well as several violet paper airplanes that fluttered around the lamp in the ceiling of the lift.
“Morning, Albert,” said a bushily whiskered man, who smiled at Harry. Harry nodded in response. Leaning closer towards Harry he muttered, “Dirk Cresswell, eh? From Goblin Liaison? Nice one, Albert. I’m pretty confident I’ll get his job now!” The whiskered man winked and Harry smiled back. I watched them out of the corner of my eye. The lift stopped and the disembodied female voice announced we were now at Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters and Wizengamot Administration Services.
Hermione gave Ron a little push and he hurried out of the lift followed by the other wizards who had joined. Hermione turned and spoke quickly as the grills shut to the lift.
“Actually, I think I should go with him, I’m not sure he knows what he is doing. I don’t want to risk Mrs. Cattermole-”
The lift had opened again, and the disembodied voice announced, “Level One, Minister of Magic and Support Staff.”
Four people were standing there, two deep in conversation, a long-haired wizard wearing magnificent robes of black and gold design, and a toad clad in pink velvet.