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adenei · 4 years

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Belated 19th

Happy Birthday, Hermione!

This is a one-shot drabble that can stand alone or also be a companion piece to “Where Do We Go From Here.”

Hermione was sitting at the small desk in Ron’s room. Harry was lying on the camp bed. It had been a week since the Battle of Hogwarts, and the Weasley family was downstairs working out the details for Fred’s funeral the day after next. Both Harry and Hermione had been invited to stay, but they both had exchanged glances where they understood that this was a time for the red headed family to be together.

So there Hermione sat, with a quill in her hand and an empty sheet of parchment. She’d dipped the quill in ink, but couldn’t commit to writing. In all honesty she wasn’t sure where to start.

“Everything alright, Hermione?” Harry had been watching her for the last few minutes.

“What? Oh, er, yes of course,” Hermione said quickly, looking back at the parchment.

She couldn’t decide the best way to approach the trip to Australia. She could travel the muggle way, booking a flight, and then reserve a room at a hotel in Melbourne. She still had much of her savings left, but that would deplete what money she had faster than she preferred, especially considering she had no idea how long it would take to find her parents, let alone convince them to come home.

Or, she could do what she was planning on, which was writing to Kingsley and ask for his assistance. But he’s most likely swamped with everything at the Ministry, and surely he has more pressing matters than helping me find my parents, Hermione reasoned with herself.

“Okay, Hermione, really. You’ve never been at a loss for words. Who are you trying to write to?” Harry interrupted her once more.

Tears began to fill her eyes. “I’m trying to make a plan to find my parents,” she said quietly. Harry watched her, waiting to see if she was going to continue. “I’m having trouble deciding whether to travel by muggle transportation, or ask Kingsley for help. He has enough going on at the Ministry, and I’m sure this would be the lowest on his priority list.”

“Hermione, you know he’d help if you asked. Anyone would help if you asked. Please tell me you’re not trying to do this alone.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ve finalized any plans yet. I’ve just been thinking about it, and I want to start making decisions. If I plan to return to Hogwarts in the fall, which I am, that isn’t going to give me a lot of time to travel, search, locate, and convince my parents to return home to England.”

“Have you talked to Ron about any of this?” Harry wasn’t thrilled that she’d managed to dodge his statements.

“Well, no...not yet. He has enough going on with the funeral, and I don’t want to pull him away from his family right now. That would be rather selfish of me,” Hermione tried to reason.

“You’re being selfish by not including him, if you ask me,” Harry said simply. He’d waited far too long for his best friends to get it together, and he was not about to see it fall apart because Hermione was being thick. “Talk to him. He could probably use the distraction. And write the letter to Kingsley.”

“Harry-” Hermione started.

“I’m serious, Hermione.” Before Harry could continue, the door opened and Ron walked in.

“Serious about what?” Ron asked.

“Helping Hermione with a plan to find her parents,” Harry answered. Hermione shot him the worst glare that she could muster.

“Oh, well, I’ve already got that sorted,” Ron said as his ears turned a light shade of pink.

“I’m sorry, what?” Hermione looked confused.

“Er, yeah. I’ve been talking with Dad and Percy, who’ve been in contact with Kingsley about it. They’re working on getting portkeys set up for travel, and I think Percy said something about the Ministry taking care of the lodging,” Ron explained.

“Ron, when did you-? How did you..?” Hermione was having difficulty formulating full questions.

“A few days ago. I knew you’d want to get going with finding them,” Ron shrugged. “And it’s given us something to focus on besides clean up and, well, you know,” he muttered.

Before Hermione realized what she was doing, she dropped the quill on the desk and had pounced on Ron, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

“It was the least I could do,” he said as he held her. Neither of them realized that Harry had slipped out of the room.

Hermione leaned back to look at him. “The least you could do? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, er, it’s nothing. Silly, really.” Ron tried to play it off in hopes that she’d forget it.

“No, really, Ron, tell me. Please?” Hermione pressed.

“Well, I would have asked for the help anyways, but I realized I didn’t get you anything for your birthday this year. Or Christmas. So, you could maybe think of this as a belated birthday present? I promise I’ll make it up properly when I can make some mo-” Ron was cut off as Hermione’s lips met his.

“This is perfect,” she murmured against his mouth. “I don’t need anything else.”

“Doesn’t mean anything,” he told her as his lips met hers again. “I do have one question that I’ll need an answer for Kingsley, though,” Ron said after a bit of a snog.

“Oh?” Hermione questioned.

“Will we need one room or two?” Hermione looked at him oddly, as if she didn’t understand the question. “You know, for lodging.”

“Why would I need two?” she asked.

“You know I’m coming with you, right?” Ron raised an eyebrow as he responded to her question with a question.

“Ron, I couldn’t make you-” Hermione started.

“You aren’t making me do anything, and you’re mental if you think I’m letting you go alone,” he said firmly. “So one room or two?”

Hermione pretended to think a moment to make Ron wait it out. Finally, she said, “One,” with a sly smile. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before turning to head down the stairs to see if Mrs. Weasley needed anything, or if Mr. Weasley or Percy was still there to talk through some details. It may be a very belated birthday present, but it was the best one yet.

#romione #ron weasley #Hermione Granger #ron x hermione #Ron and Hermione

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lawnierose · 3 years

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Harry was staring up at the ceiling in his tiny bedroom. This summer after the Tournament had been one of the worst with the Dursleys. Right at the end of the Tournament he had been kidnapped by Voldemort and used in a ritual to bring the Dark Lord back. In his attempt to escape he had been hit with an Avada. Instead of killing him it had apparently killed some aspect of Tom’s soul that had been attached to his own. When he saw his parents in the weird “in between” place, they told him it was a Horcrux. When he woke up, Tom and his followers had been taken by surprise allowing him to reach the cup and Portkey back. Dumbledore had still sent him back to his awful relatives, who proceeded to beat him and starve him worse than ever.

He was lucky for his hidden stash under the floorboard. Otherwise he would have died of starvation this time. He was lucky the twins were sending him packages. They were the only ones sending him mail this summer. According to them, it seemed Dumbledore had told everyone not to send him letters or anything else. Luckily, this had caused the twins to lose faith in the meddlesome old bastard. Harry had a running list in his mind of everyone who was going to pay. Vernon and Dudley for the constant abuse. Petunia for the neglect, and for turning a blind eye when Vernon took Harry into the special room in the basement. Dumbledore had lost his little weapon, that much was for sure. Harry wanted to ruin the man before killing him.

Of the Weasley’s, he knew the twins were with him as was Charlie. He wasn’t sure about Bill yet. The rest could go fuck themselves, including Ron. As for the rest at school, he had Hermione, Neville, and Luna. No one else believed him about Voldemort coming back, and Dumbledore had thrown him under the bus to the ministry to save face. So Harry lay there, his 15th birthday ticking closer. He stared at the tempus he had wandlessly cast and held, trying to ignore the pain from today’s Harry Hunting adventure. He watched as the time rolled over from 11:59 to midnight. He barely got a wish out, just wanting to be able to be who he wanted to be. Suddenly, pain flared through his whole body and the world went dark as he slipped into unconsciousness.

He was awoken several hours later by a pounding on his door. “Freak, where’s our breakfast, how dare you have a lie in. I’m coming in there.” Harry popped up quickly, reaching for his glasses. His hair seemed to graze his neck and as he ran his hands through it, it was smooth and silky and had grown several inches. “What the bloody hell” he thought. He tried to scramble from the bed but was tangled in the threadbare sheet he was given. Vernon burst through the door just as Harry was standing up. His uncle’s eyes were filled with shock and rage as he stared at the other person in the room. “What the fuck freak? You couldn’t keep yourself from getting any freakier could you.” Harry looked down for the first time. It seems he had shrunk despite already being small. This had caused the huge t-shirt from Dudley to slip off a shoulder, exposing a small breast. Harry could see a matching one under the shirt as well. Eyes widening in terror, Harry realised he had a pussy as well. He jumped back as his uncle screamed at him. Vernon was leering at him and Harry began to quake in fear. “Seems you need time in the special room today girl. Come here!” With that, Vernon grabbed the young child by a fistful of hair and began dragging her through the house.

~A.L.A.H.P.~

Later that evening, a lone figure was looking upon the house at Number 4, Privet Drive. Feeling very much himself, more so than he had in decades, Tom Riddle, commonly called Voldemort or Dark Lord, stared as he watched the three muggles pile into some sort of muggle transportation with trunks and take off. “This is where the Light kept their so called Savior. With muggles of all things.” It had taken months before he was able to come find the boy. First, he had to deal with the results of Pettigrew botching the potion for the ritual. He was supposed to come out looking like his former self. Once back, he did realise that a large amount of his sanity had returned to him. He realised he was a fool to have split his soul as he had. As soon as he had done it the first time, all of his plans began to take a more violent and insane approach. He quickly gathered his Horcruxes and performed a ritual to restore his soul and even more of his sanity. Then it was time to hunt down the boy. It was just random good luck that the one tracking spell had hit the boy. Once he was sure he was alone, he stretched out with his magic to check the wards on the house. He stepped back in shock to find nothing of the sort on the building. Cautiously, he slipped forward.

Nothing, absolutely nothing was keeping him out. Stretching out he felt darkness in the house. It first led him to a small door under the stairs. It reeked with darkness as he pulled it open. Absently he realised the door could only be opened from the outside. Inside he found a school trunk. Then his eyes caught something written on the wall. “Harry’s Room” was written on the wall in what could only be blood. Shocked he looked around, finding a few broken toys and a crib mattress tucked away. Tom tried not to let his thoughts go where the evidence was pointing. No he could not pity the boy. He was here to finish what he started. Yes, he was sane again, and he should have never listened to that half a prophecy to begin with, but he had made it true by marking the boy. He couldn’t stop now. He quietly shut the door and moved up the stairs until he came to a door with seven padlocks on it and a pet flap at the bottom of it. He could practically see the darkness seeping out under the door. It was far heavier here and for once Voldemort was terrified to open a door. Steeling himself and waving a hand he proceeded to unlock all the locks and open the door. His eyes fell immediately upon the tiny bed in one corner. There stripped naked, limbs bent at entirely wrong angles, and wounds bleeding so much the bed was tinted red, was a young girl looking barely twelve. Glancing up the famous scar was still on her forehead. He needed answers, ones he would not get if she died. He pulled his wand and placed it to the mark on his own arm, calling to a very specific follower.

~A.L.A.H.P.~

Severus was lounging in his study at Hogwarts. It was just before bed and he was reading the newest potion journal and sipping on firewhiskey. He had his own research published in this issue, under a false name of course. This was why he loved summer. No students, and he could work on his research and even produce new formulae to patent. He was far wealthier than anyone knew thanks to several medical formulae he had perfected. He had just picked his tumbler up when a searing pain lanced through his left arm. He dropped the tumbler, cursing as he quickly threw on more appropriate robes and hurried out to the edge of Hogwarts’ wards. He quickly apparated straight to his lord and fell to his knees as soon as he arrived. “Get up Severus there is no time for this. I hope you brought potions or have access.” His head snapped up hearing emotions in the Dark Lord’s voice he never thought possible. Glancing around he realised he was in a tiny room in a place he did not recognise. “What was that smell? He wondered. “Move it Severus, Harry Potter is dying and not by my hand.” Severus’s head whipped up to stare at his master’s face only to find it staring elsewhere. He followed the glance until he beheld the sight on the bed. “This is a girl my lord.”

“Severus be glad I need you or I would be cursing your incompetence right now. Look at the scar. I don’t know how, but Harry is now the girl-who-lived and I would know why she changed and why she is dying.” Suddenly, both men froze as the girl coughed harshly, blood spraying from her mouth. Lily’s green eyes stared back at them barely focused. “T-tom, here to kill me. Just end it please!” Both men were shocked, but Severus was pushed to action as the girl's body went completely limp. He was pulling potion after potion out of his robe, which had a special pocket linked directly to his private stores. “My lord, I will do what I can but even a cursory glance tells me there are injuries here beyond my skills. We need to get the girl to Narcissa. Her healer training far outweighs my own.” Tom merely nodded and let Severus work. Severus eventually informed him he had done what he could and Tom scooped the girl up in his arms. He marvelled at how light she was and tried not to let his rage blind him. With that he Apparated directly to his room in Malfoy Manor, Severus right on his heels. “Tinky!” he yelled out. As the house elf appeared he was already giving instructions. “Go get Lady Malfoy and bring her here immediately.” With a pop the elf was gone and he laid the girl on his own bed. There was a pop and a shriek behind him. “Unhand me you loathsome...Oh my Lord, what is requested of me?” The Lady Malfoy was attempting to look less ruffled as she bowed. Suddenly, her eyes alighted on the bed and noticed the famous scar on a very female body. “My Lord, Severus, what has happened?” Tom spoke up, swallowing his anger. “All will be talked about, after we save her life. Severus did what he could.”

It took well into the morning, but finally Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief. “She is out of the worst of the danger my Lord. There is much yet to be done to bring her to full health and she should really see the Goblins to find out the extent of what has been done. I cannot tell if her magic changed her to look this way or if this is her original form and she was held under some sort of potion or spell.”

#hp fanfic #harry potter #tomarry #genderswap #first chapter #wip

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fedonciadale · 4 years

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The Phoenix Potion - chapter 51 (September 22, 2001)

So, another chapter.... this one is just Dramione.... Hope, it is not too sappy.... Also on AO3.

Draco was sitting in a provisional cell. He had told the aurors several times that they could not transport him in the usual ways. They had not believed him. It had taken them about ten tries to side-along him and five tries to portkey him until they had finally accepted, that the only way to bring him to Azkaban would be on a broom or on a Thestral, a long and tedious journey to a windy and rainy island in the middle of nowhere.

Since he was not yet tried and sentenced, they had decided to keep him in an abandoned bureau in the auror department. Harry Potter had been the one to suggest muggle handcuffs. Draco shook his head. Of course, it had been his luck to walk into newly appointed aurors at the Leaky Cauldron. He had hoped, that he would have a chance to bring Hermione’s parents personally to her before being apprehended. At least some of her friends had been there. Draco supposed that Luna Lovegood could focus long enough to lead the Grangers to their daughter.

Fortunately, he had something to do. Longbottom who was an auror now had agreed to give him paper and pencil, so that he could draw. Aurors were wary around him. No matter how often he explained to them, that he could not use his magic, no matter how often they tried to hit him with a spell or a hex, they still did not seem to get the principle of “nothing in, nothing out”. The scutum spell was still a secret. He had decided not to explain further, at least before he had talked with his lawyer. Maybe a new spell would give him leverage to negotiate his sentence.

He sighed. The Weasel had informed him with glee that he would not have a choice in who would represent him at court. He would get a duty solicitor. It was decided that death eaters should get no chance to buy themselves out of a sentence as they had done the last time Voldemort had been around.

They still had a right to be defended. That did not console Draco though. He would probably get a lawyer who had just finished his or her training. Someone with no name, someone who needed the money, and only would do the bare minimum.

They should have sent someone already. It was his third day in custody after all, but the rights of death eaters were not high on the ministry’s priority list. No visitors were allowed until they had reached a conclusion on his ‘condition’, as they called it. They had not yet realised, that Prudy could visit him, simply by apparating, and Draco had no intention of telling them.

Arthur Weasley as minister of magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt as head auror, his father out of grace, under house arrest and wandless. And Saint Potter and the Weasel as favourite pets of the auror department, on top of Longbottom. None of these developments had really come as a surprise. The only surprise and a nice one had been that Pansy had survived the Battle of Hogwarts and had just finished training at the auror department. She had visited him once, but only with another auror, and Draco had assured her, that she owed him nothing. Still, he had the suspicion that she had instigated the return of his paper and pencil. It was not easy to draw with handcuffs, but it was possible.

So, when the door to his ‘cell’ opened and an auror he did not know announced, that his solicitor had arrived, Draco kept his eyes on his papers. It was tricky to draw curls after all. He heard the door close and a scraping sound told him that the solicitor had taken a chair.

It was the smell, that alerted him. A note of cinnamon, a sharp refreshing lemony overtone and just a hint of fresh paper.

The pencil fell out of his hand, even before he raised his eyes and he saw her. He felt as if he had been hit. His heart began to beat painfully in his chest. The blood left his head, making him nauseous and then returned with a sudden rush that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Hermione.”

After that words failed him. He could hear his own breath, loud in his ears, but he could do nothing but stare and drink her in. The woman he had remembered amidst the chaos that was his memories, the woman he had thought to be just a fabrication of his imagination for the last three years, sat there, in flesh and blood, far more beautiful than his drawings, living and breathing.

“Hello Draco,” she said, an uncertain smile tugging at her lips. “I’m your legal counsel.”

“How is that possible?” His mind reeled.

“I just got my licence this August. You’re my first official case.”

He shook his head. “Longbottom told me you’ve gone into law. But wouldn’t you… I mean, I think… I …”

He stopped himself, trying to focus. “I couldn’t be that lucky, could I? To get you as a duty solicitor?”

He thought he could positively feel his cheeks burning. Maybe all their interactions hadn’t been that important for her. She was engaged to the Weasel after all. He shouldn’t presume that, just because they had kissed, she would feel as he did.

She laughed. Draco could have wrapped himself in her laugh. It made him want to laugh along.

“Judge Prewett specifically wanted me, and when I asked, if he did not think that I would be biased,…”. Her cheeks began to burn in a way that made Draco’s heart clench. “I mean with us being classmates and so… And you brought my parents back….”

She inhaled slowly. “Anyway, he told me that he has confidence in my professionalism. And that the wizarding world is so small, that classmates is not a hindrance. Many things are not a hindrance as long as they are addressed.”

Draco could hardly believe his luck. “I was led to believe that I would only get a sham of defence.”

“Prewett told me to best start my career with a win.” Hermione grinned.

“A win?,” Draco raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be lucky if I get less than five years.”

“I want to plead that you defected. Your mom defected and got a year of house arrest and wandban and two additional years of probation. By now she is a free woman.”

“My mother defected?” That was news.

“Yes, she lied straight to Voldemort’s face, telling him Harry was dead, when he was not, and she did not fight in the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“She’s free? That means she can visit me?” Draco asked.

Hermione shook her head. “Not before there has been an official decision about your ‘condition’ as it is called.”

“I see, … my ‘condition’.” He had almost forgot about the scutum. His high spirits plummeted. What would Hermione make of that?

“Draco, you’d best start telling me everything. No secrets. I am your legal counsel.” Hermione unpacked papers and prepared to make notes.

“Hermione, I…. “, he started and then he stopped himself. His legal counsel. That is how she saw her role. His heart was pounding against his rib cage, each beat a pain that singed him. ‘She forgot me. It was never more than some kisses,’ the rhythm of his heart whispered into his brain.

He ran his hands through his hair, wondering if he should have stayed hidden away in Muggle London, finding some other way to bring her parents to her, some other way to see her than to resurface in the wizarding world.

“I hardly know where to start.” He looked at her, desperate for some sign, that he was more to her than a charity project, a duty, a step in her career.

Hermione returned his look and his heart took up speed again.

“You know, you could start with telling me where the hell you have been since the battle of Hogwarts.” Her eyes suddenly shimmered. “I thought you were dead. I don’t know how often I used the querio charm to find you.”

She pressed her hands together. “Your parents used a blood spell, but that did not show where you were either, just that you might be alive.”

“I thought you were just an imagination of my broken mind.” Draco whispered.

They looked at each other for a long time, searchingly letting their eyes wander over each other’s faces.

Draco felt like he was hanging over an abyss just by a thread. Thinking about her had been easy, as long as he thought of her as an image, a mirage, something that gave him hope, the girl of his dreams, but not a reality. He had decided to opt for the reality, even if it meant that he might be thrown into prison and fight an uphill battle to be with her. That was better than staying in a dream.

Now, she was here, and she was her own person, and he suddenly knew that if he would not find the right words, he would fall into the abyss, and nothing would save him. She would defend him to the best of her abilities, and they would part ways after. He thought of all the things he had learned in the Muggle world.

“You know, you’d best start at the beginning.” Hermione said, in an attempt to be playful.

“I need to say something before that,” Draco licked his lips.

“I’ll listen.”

“You need to know, that to me the beginning is you, it has always been you. And if you want to listen to the beginning, I should speak of that. But if that displeases you, I will be silent on this subject forever.”

Hermione stared at him. For a long torturous moment, he could hear her shallow breathing.

“Pride and Prejudice,” she finally said. “You’ve read ‘Pride and Prejudice’.”

Draco smiled. “I watched the series, first. I somehow thought it fits us, even if FitzWilliam Darcy would be a better man than me, if he existed. But in a world without Voldemort?”

He could see her swallowing.

“Draco,” her voice was a ghost of a whisper. “I want you to tell me.”

“I only regained some of my memories a few days ago, but sitting here I had a lot of time to think.”

He inhaled deeply, his eyes never leaving Hermione’s face.

“You were at the beginning of my doubts about the ideas I grew up with. I was told that Muggleborns were stupid, inferior, and ugly, and there you were, right before my eyes. Always better than me, beautiful and smart. You were the living proof that what I thought was wrong.”

“You’ve told me you never hated me, Draco,” Hermione smiled. “Remember, that night in the hospital wing? Although it might have been a dream.”

“I stored that away.” Her face told him, that the kiss they had shared that night might have been good. He knew it had happened, but he only remembered their kisses in the Room of Hidden things.

“And you had friends, who laughed with you, and you ignored me. I was accustomed to being at the centre of my world, to being fawned over. And I could not bear that. I made you notice me….” He stopped. “In the worst possible way.”

He laughed awkwardly, when she sat still. “I am so sorry for that.”

“It was only after I finally worked it all out, that I knew that I did not want to follow him, that I did not want to become one of his killers. You became the centre of my hope then. Your survival. If it hadn’t been for you, I might never have seen through all his hypocrisy. I might have become a killer. I did not have enough of a moral compass just by myself.”

He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself, not daring to look at her. “I do not expect anything. But know that I am grateful to you. You made me better than I was.”

Hermione did not answer, and Draco did not open his eyes again. He still was hanging by a thread. He wondered if he would physically fall, when the abyss claimed him.

He felt her hand on his, and his eyes snapped open. Her eyes glistened.

“You saved me that day at the manor, saved me from insanity. And I think your potion saved my life several times during the battle. And you brought my parents, although it meant you were arrested.”

“I hadn’t exactly planned on being arrested,” Draco admitted.

“You might not expect anything, but ….” She interrupted herself and bit her lip, wiping at her eyes.

Draco raised his hands and tried to reach for her face despite the handcuffs. She let her head fall to the side just so, that her cheek touched the back of his left hand.

“I’ve thought you were lost to me. I’ve never regretted anything as intensely as leaving you in front of the Room of Hidden Things. We should have stayed together. Should have gotten through the battle together.”

He could feel his left hand twitching slightly with the excitement of feeling her skin.

“We’re here now,” he said.

Hermione smiled at him, a single tear made its way down her cheek, hitting his thumb.

“I don’t have all eternity to speak with you, and I should get some notes for your defence.” Her eyes held some regret as if she could imagine better pastimes.

She took his hands and placed them firmly on the table between them. She took her pen for notes, but not before she had quickly brushed his hands.

“Now you’d best start with the day you were forced to take the mark when Voldemort threatened your mother.”

Draco left nothing out. Reliving the ordeal that had been his sixth year was painful, but piecing his seventh year together from the bits and pieces he did remember even if he could not conjure any pictures to his mind was exhausting. It made his head hurt and some details were probably lost forever.

Hermione’s frown deepened the longer he talked. Draco could see that she had hoped for more evidence that she could use.

“So, to sum up: You were in an understanding with Snape, the double agent, but Snape is dead and cannot testify for you. You stored the memories of your conspirative meetings in a vial currently with your elf, which you sealed with the scutum spell, a spell hitherto unknown. Only you yourself could undo this spell, but you are unable to do it because you yourself were hit with a scutum spell that was applied via a carrier your elf threw on you, a carrier of again unknown origin. As long as you are under the scutum you can tell what happened but there is no chance you can give your memories to a pensieve – which might not be accepted in court anyway, because memories can be tempered with. Also, it is likely that veritasserum cannot be administered to you, again because of the scutum.”

“You secretly prepared a potion, the Phoenix Potion, that splits the effect of the scutum, depending on how it is used. Nobody but Snape, who is dead, knew you were working on that potion. Circumstantial witnesses might be your own parents, and Slughorn if he remembers you stole ingredients. And a Ravenclaw girl whose name you cannot remember. You cannot brew that potion again, because you tempered with your memory deliberately, so that Voldmort would not discover your plans. At the day of the Battle of Hogwarts you hid your notes on the potion and again stored that memory away, but somewhere else and with Goyle’s wand. You have no idea where that vial is, nor where the notes are. The batch of the potion you successfully brewed, was used up to save people in the Battle of Hogwarts, but you acted under an disillusionment charm, so that only some people might have seen you and they might not have realised what you did, because again, nobody knew about the Phoenix Potion.”

“So, the only people who could positively testify for you, are your former house elf and a pupil whose name you don’t remember. There is Snape’s portrait, but he might not have included memories on his plan B when he made the portrait and even though it is possible he made a memory stash for you, we have no idea where that might be.”

Draco groaned and put his head in his hands. “I’ll be going to Azkaban, won’t I?”

When he looked up, Hermione pressed her lips together in a thin line. She had a very determined look about her. “Don’t give up hope. I am sure there is circumstantial evidence that supports your story. And the most important thing is, that you never killed anybody.”

“I did use the Imperius on Rosmerta and cast the cruciatus when the Carrows ordered me.” Draco whispered, downcast.

“When you cast the Imperius you were underage, and everybody knows the Carrows coerced everyone. We can get around that. None of the seventh years of 1998 were sentenced for that, not even Goyle.”

Hermione pressed his hands. “I still think, we can claim you defected, at the very least on the day, Harry, Ron and I were brought to Malfoy manor. You failed to identify Harry, although you clearly knew who he was, and you saved me. And you called Snape.”

“Who is dead, as you’ve repeatedly reminded me.”

Hermione scowled not caring for his attempt at flippancy.

“Yes, but your parents will remember, that he came although they did not call him.”

“It’s such a shame, my testimony wouldn’t be admitted.” Hermione said. “Not in regard to what happened at the manor, at least. I was subject to the cruciatus and I am therefore an unreliable witness.”

“But I thought the scutum worked? You told me it had worked when we met in the Room of Hidden Things.”.

Draco shuddered, when Hermione’s screams came to his mind. When he had put away his memory on casting the scutum so that Voldemort did not find it, he had left a vivid image of Hermione screaming. Voldemort would have been suspicious if he had found nothing in his supposed follower’s mind. Draco could not have known at that time, that he would never be brought before Voldemort again.

“Yes, it did. But nobody believes me. I’ve been telling my friends for years, that you saved me, but they think that my recollection is warped because of the cruciatus…. Apparently, it is fairly common for victims to be in denial and to fantasize about someone helping them. It is a way of the mind to protect itself.”

Draco felt irritation at her friends. “I nearly burned the magic right out of me.”

“You don’t need to convince me.” Hermione reassured him.

She made a knot of her hair and put her pen through it. “You know, when Prewett offered me the defence, I had to decide. Either I could be an unreliable witness for the defence, or I could try my best to keep you out of prison as your solicitor.”

She looked at him, pleading for understanding. “My testimony on the day we were captured would be worthless and they would probably say the same about the Phoenix Potion you gave me. And I could not ask you what you prefer.”

Colour crept into her cheeks. “And if I had chosen to stand as witness, I would not have been able to see you.”

Draco’s pulse jumped up to a rapid speed. He could not rein his emotions in any longer. “You wanted to see me?”

His voice sounded strange in his ears, filled with his raw need.

Their eyes locked.

“Prudy said your engaged. You’re engaged to the Weasel, aren’t you?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought you were dead. I would have mourned what could have been all my life, but I wanted to …. “

She took a shuddering breath. “Yesterday, I told Ron, I want to postpone.”

He felt like she had hit him. “Postpone?”

She lowered her head. “I told him that I want to fix the situations with my parents first. But in reality, I am just a coward.”

He understood then. He had hesitated to ask Prudy to tell him the truth. A leap over the abyss might end in a fall after all.

“You’re not a coward,” he scoffed. “You lied to my aunt. You battled Voldemort. You …”

Before he could continue the door to his cell opened and one of the aurors led in a middle-aged man Draco did not know.

“Miss Granger, what are you doing here?” the man asked, irritation plainly written on his face.

Hermione pulled herself together very quickly. Draco almost smiled. Condescending did not go well with his girl.

“I am consulting with my client, doing my job as duty solicitor,” she stated firmly. “I might as well ask you what you do here, Mr Sloane.”

“As the persecutor you are not allowed to speak to the accused unless in court. Surely you learned that in your training!”, the man sneered.

“I was assigned the defence, and I am consulting with my client.” Hermione’s voice was clipped, no trace of her emotions from earlier detectable.

“Prewett just gave me the defence,” the other man said.

“He gave me the defence this morning. When I registered in August, I gave ‘defence’ as my preference.”

The man had the audacity to roll his eyes. “Prewett wanted you to do the persecution. Why would you of all people, muggleborn extraordinaire, want to defend a death eater?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Because under wizarding law, everyone has a right to be defended.”

“Well, I’ll care for the defence for this sorry excuse of a wizard then…. If he can be even called a wizard.” Sloane regarded Draco with disdain, as if he were a cockroach that had dared to come to the light.

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her. “Then, Mr Sloane, I am sorry to inform you, that you are too late. I have already consulted with my client and we have agreed on the verdict we are trying to aim at. You can’t just take over my case.”

“And pray what verdict is that? Are you going for guilty and a shorter sentence for full cooperation and turning himself in? Good luck with that.”

Hermione’s eyes flashed. “You are not entitled to get an answer to that. I will not disclose my angle to you. And since you are obviously not doing the defence you shouldn’t even be here.”

Mr Sloane did not receive this answer with grace. “Ms Granger, you think that scoring the highest grades for decades in your lawyer’s degree is the equivalent to thirty years of courtroom experience.”

He snorted. “You might be the minister’s pet and Harry Potter’s friend but that means nothing in the courtroom. It will be my pleasure to see you and your praised intellect being cut down some notches when you are confronted with the realities of a trial. No law theory paper will help you there.”

He made to leave and turned at the door, giving her a false smile, and ignoring Draco altogether. “I think I will see myself to that. I guess the job of the persecution on the Draco Malfoy trial is still open, after all.”

When he had slammed the door, Hermione let herself fall into her chair again. Her lips trembled. She wiped her eyes angrily.

Draco wondered, if her tears were due to her anger or to the fact that she had just had a taste of the crooked wizarding law system. Draco knew all about it. His father had taken advantage often enough.

He mustered his courage, brought his own chair close to her and clumsily tried to dry her cheeks with his cuffed hands.

“Hey, there…. You’ll wipe the courtroom floor with his arse, won’t you?”

“Prewett told me that it would be an easy win, the first of a hopefully long career. His question about my bias was not about being biased in your favour…. They already decided that this will end with you in prison, didn’t they?”

She banged her fist on the table. “What did we fight for, if nothing changed? The ministry is still corrupt and prejudiced and…. This should be about justice, not about revenge.”

Draco took her fist in his hands, and untangled it, stroking each of her fingers.

“You know, Granger, I can see how they thought you would be biased against me. It must be common knowledge that we didn’t get along in school. Have you even told anybody about us, I mean, you told Potter and the Weasel about how I cast the scutum on you, but otherwise?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never told anybody. I…. It is not that I was ashamed, but I didn’t think anybody would believe me…. And then I thought you were dead.”

He smiled at her. “Might I suggest a Slytherin approach then? Play the valiant defender of justice, even if it means defending your school enemy, play the ‘I collect any evidence in favour of my client’ lawyer, play the ‘I am going to bend the courtroom to my will, no matter the cost’ solicitor.”

He kissed the knuckles of her hand. “And this, us, the night in the hospital wing, I do not remember clearly, our kisses in the Room of Hidden things, they stay between us. And what we make of it, we’ll decide after the trial.”

#Dramione #Dramione fic #Draco Malfoy #Hermione Granger #Phoenix Potion #chapter 51 #Duty soliciting #My ridiculous headcanon #flashback chapter

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Anaticula Pt 46

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Within the hour as promised Arthur was home and was greeted by you and his children after Minerva had overseen your transport there by portkey for an approved week off with an extension of invitation to Hermione and Harry as well. With a wide grin he eyed the meal and treats you all had whipped up for him, under the aid of his cane he lowered into his chair and shared he had indeed been given a vacation. Quite the lengthy one but mainly due to the fact he claimed he had no clue who had healed him and with the aid of one of your mints he found in your jacket the truth serum was believed to have taken effect.

At his warning you expected to find a tale of how Sirius Black had broken in attacking Auror members, but all across the front page was news of The Rosenfeld Case that had fallen apart after questions about the Veritaserum used being tainted. The only mention close to Arthur’s dilemma was Broderick Bode was strangled to death by a Devil's Snare while in St Mungo's. It seemed Fudge was more afraid of showing any weakness of the Ministry at all after your slew of revenge titles making it a fireable offence to even mention the Black Family.

Though it seems habits are hard to break as across the front page as you’d warned the Order weeks ago, 10 Death Eaters had been broken out of Azkaban, including your aunt Bellatrix and uncle Rudolphus.

‘We have confirmed that 10 high-security prisoners in the early hours of yesterday evening did escape. And of course, the Muggle prime minister has been alerted to the danger. We strongly suspect that the breakout was engineered by a man with personal experience in escaping from Azkaban notorious mass murderer Sirius Black cousin of escapee Bellatrix Lestrange.’

Behind you Hermione stated, “Dumbledore warned Fudge this could happen.”

Ron glanced at you seeing you stand up, your sharp exhale at trying to remain calm not hiding the soft flames coating your hands burning the paper you were crumpling in your fist while sparks rippled across your knuckles. “He's gonna get us all killed just because he can't face the truth.”

Seamus stood trying to speak to you only for you to say you were going to the toilet and would be back, curiously at Neville and the twins hurrying after you he continued to stroll over to Harry just outside the Great Hall, “Harry. I wanted to apologize. Now even me Mum says the Prophet's version of things don't add up. So, what I'm really trying to say is that I believe you.”

Harry nodded and said, “No kidding.”

Harry’s eyes followed your turn down the hall with the trio after you that Seamus turned to asking, “Which toilet is she using? She’s passed them already.”

Harry passed him his copy of the papers and Ron said, “Probably the one we won’t hear her scream in.”

Seamus’ mouth fell open, “Death Eaters?”

Dean looked over his shoulder, “Even I’ve heard about Bellatrix Lestrange and I’m muggle born. Jaqi’s related to her?”

Ron, “Ya see Mate, she’s technically related to two third of the school if you look at her family tree, one of the Sacred 28, oldest in the Wizarding world, plus up till her Dad the lot of them went off pureblood values, so no shocker there’s a score of bad apples in the bunch.”

Hermione, “That’s why Fudge and Umbridge don’t trust her.”

Harry, “And why she’s considered a blood traitor.”

Dean, “Is she going to be ok?”

Ron, “Well, Bellatrix was mental before they locked her away, no telling what she’ll be up to now, or if like the lot of them will come after Jaqi and her Dad, he was a part of how she got captured according to Mum.”

Seamus, “Oh, so, best give her some time then?”

Hermione, “She should be back soon, just tired I think. Hasn’t been sleeping much, and I doubt she will be when Umbridge tries to bring her in for nightly teas again like after Mr Weasley was attacked.”

Seamus smirked as Dean said, “Maybe we can help with that. Make sure she’s too distracted to distract Jaqi.” Dean turned and called out, “Hey Lee,” Lee Jordan turned and they strolled off, “Still got watch on those Nifflers?” Lee grinned wider joining them over to a corner to begin plotting as the others sighed and went to the table.

Shaking in your wavering breaths you lowered onto the floor of the empty third corridor room Fluffy was once held in, curling your legs in tucked in front of you. Your hands rose to support your head as you sniffled under your curtain of flame covered black curls. Around you the trio settled gently patting your legs and back as you calmed mumbling, “I’m just so tired.”

Sitting up you brushed your hair back out of your face and wiped your cheeks looking at Neville, “When he came back she was bound to get out. We knew that. You warned them, they warned Fudge, who clearly didn’t listen.”

You sniffled again, “Why don’t we kill our confirmed psychotic mass murderers like the States do.”

Neville the twins chuckled and said, “But prison breaks are all the rage you know.”

Forcing a flicker of a smile you said, “Even with Occlumency I still can’t stop the dreams. It just never stops.”

Neville, “Maybe Snape can give you some of that Dreamless Draught.”

“And what if another attack happens and I can’t get there in time?”

Neville nodded, “Well, one good thing, my parent’s’ll have to move in now, Nellie definitely. Might even take a leave.”

Fred, “Plus now, can’t be long till the cats out of the bag.”

You nodded, “No doubt he’ll have to admit there’s more at play than my Dad with some vengeance.”

Neville smirked, “Unless he tries to spin it that they’re working with Dumbledore to overthrow Fudge.” All of you laughed at that, including Neville.

“Oh I would pay to have him print that angle just to see it blow up in his face.” Once again you stood feeling much calmer now and joined them down to the Great Hall for something to eat with a plan for you to get a nap in through DA and the break after lunch while the twins took over for you today.

Across a bench in the corner you curled up in your fox form and drifted off to sleep in a protective bubble the twins formed around you just to be safe. More explosive charms made good use of the bubble and when you were woken to groggily head down to lunch though in his lagging behind Harry approached Neville, who was looking up at the photo of the original Order.

“Neville?”

“Fourteen years ago Death Eaters named Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange used the Cruciatus Curse on my parents. Tortured them for information ...but they never gave in. I'm quite proud to be their son. But I'm not sure I'm ready for everyone to know just yet. They might not have remembered being pregnant with me, or my being born, but that’s not their fault, and they’re still here, for me to learn from. And now we have Nellie too, I just, I don’t want them to get hurt again.”

“We're gonna make them proud, Neville. That's a promise.”

Neville nodded and patted Harry on the shoulder, “I’m certain your parents are proud too. Sirius and Regulus are, Remus too, even though you terrify Molly a bit with all we get sucked into.”

Harry nodded and let out an awkward chuckle, “Ya, managed to stumble through so far.”

Neville shrugged, “No better than they did. They were just a few years older than we are now.”

Harry smirked, “Let’s just not start having babies just yet.”

Neville chuckled, “Yes, lets.” Following Harry with a smirk, “Though they would be adorable.” Making Harry chuckle.

Catching up to the group sheepishly Harry approached Ginny’s side asking, “So, when we get to Hogsmeade where did you want to go first?”

A soft blush spreading across her cheeks as she remembered the note Harry had passed her after two days of being unable to speak to her when he’d finally realized his feelings were more than just that for his best friend’s kid sister. Of course she jumped at the chance for a date with him and broke his silence with a goodnight peck on his lips before darting off to her dorm at curfew the night before. Their day was soon planned out along with a stolen moment when you and Harry would meet up with a journalist from the Quibbler to answer a great deal of questions for a full exclusive of the teens being targeted by the Ministry.

…

All it took was a week and the issue exploded lifting the popularity of the Quibbler over night. And along with it in nine days time brought on a full weeks detention from Umbridge when she learned of it. Though with her deduction of points Professors Sprout, Flitwick, Trelawney all took to awarding other students in your houses to help make up for the difference for varying reasons through the day to do so without raising her suspicions.

Proclamation 27 came down, and with it brought on the banned Quibbler being disguised and smuggled into the school anyways as it seemed to be the only publication out of Fudge’s grasp since the break out. Under accusations of giving false statements the one last glimmer of freedom was snatched away, banned from Hogsmeade you both were set back even more. Though upon hearing word that you were banned the shops there updated their mail ordering catalogs, just for Hogwarts use for you and the others banned form the town for their supporting your claims to keep up their business and show their support in some small way with a promise of discrete delivery no matter the sizes of the orders.

…

No matter the fractions of hope more darkness seemed to seep into the school growing eerily quieter each day, as if you were on the cusp of something and the school was readying itself. Upon threat of punishment for her parents in the Ministry Marietta Edgecombe copied the list of members for Dumbledore’s Army and handed it over. In a hurry after having done so to warn the others she was only met by the sight of charmed howlers ordering each member to the Headmaster’s Office.

All together you strolled cautiously through the halls sitting empty at the order for the other students to head to their dorms straight after dinner, even if they had classes that were now rescheduled. At the number of you it became clear you had been outed and no doubt all in hushed conversation readied to be given the boot from the school.

Up the spiral staircase you filed into the office finding Dumbledore strolling away from his Pensieve he had been emptying into jars he sent off to who knows where saying to the students, “It appears we seem to be at an impasse students.” His head nodded as he added to the sound of Umbridge’s nearing giggle at something Fudge was saying, “Hold firm we can ride this out.”

His eyes flinched from you then back to Umbridge entering surrounded by Kingsley and another Auror on his right named Dawlish.

Umbridge smirked at Dumbledore passing Fudge the copied list, “Been watching them for weeks. And see, ‘Dumbledore's Army’...proof of what I've been telling you right from the beginning, Cornelius.”

Fudge, “All your fear-mongering about You-Know-Who never fooled us for a minute. We saw your lies for what they were: A smokescreen for your bid to seize control of the Ministry.”

Dumbledore’s head tilted slightly, “Naturally.”

Harry, “No, Professor. He had nothing to do with it. It was me.”

Dumbledore patted his shoulder and nudged him back to your side clearing the path between him and the Aurors, “Most noble of you, Harry, to shield me, but as has been pointed out the parchment clearly says "Dumbledore's Army," not "Potter's." I instructed Harry to form this organization. And I, and I alone, am responsible for its activities.”

Fudge, “Dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet. If we hurry, we should still make the morning edition. Dawlish, Shacklebolt, you will escort Dumbledore to Azkaban to await trial for conspiracy and sedition.”

Cutting off your groups’ attempts to speak Dumbledore proper his hands on his hips, “I thought we might hit this little snag. You seem to be laboring under the delusion that I'm going to... What was the phrase? Come quietly. Well, I can tell you this: I have no intention of going to Azkaban.”

Fudge, “Enough of this. Take him.”

In their move to draw their wands Fawkes took off and lit on fire soaring over Dumbledore’s head allowing him the chance to clap his hands on his tail feathers to aparate in an untraceable way off to your home.

The burst of flames from the escape sending the Aurors and Minister to the ground with Umbridge. In their rise Kingsley stated, “Well, you may not like him, Minister...but you can't deny...Dumbledore has got style.”

Turning to look you all over Umbridge smirked saying, “Ah, yes, just in time for detention.” A cursed pack of books in her hand while desks appeared in the office while Fudge raced off back to his office to send off the story of Dumbledore being on the run.

…

On their feet while Umbridge stepped out into the hall to read a letter freshly arrived through the fireplace Ron said, “Harry. You did everything you could. No one could win against that old hag.”

Hermione, “Even Dumbledore didn't see this coming. Harry, if it's anyone's fault, it's ours. Yeah, we talked you into it.”

Harry, “Yeah, but I agreed. I tried so hard to help, and all it's done is make things worse. Anyway, that doesn't matter anymore. Because I don't want to play anymore. All it does is make you care too much. And the more you care, the more you have to lose. So maybe it's just better to...”

Ron, “To what?”

You replied for him, “To go it alone.” Harry nodded as you looked at the door still keeping you inside, “But no,” his brows inched up, “That’s just what they want. For us to be alone. Alone we’re less of a threat.”

Fred crouched by the desk of a young boy stated, “Your hand's gonna be fine, Michael.” Seeing him stroking the scars there from the cursed book etching the moral of the turbulent and mentally jarring tale you all had to live through in what seemed to have been years within the hour time limit.

George, “Yeah. It's not as bad as it seems. See?”

Fred, “It's fading already.”

They both said, “You can hardly see ours anymore, and the pain stops after a while.”

The door opened and with a wide grin Umbridge read off, “Educational Decree Number Twenty-Eight passed by Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge making Dolores Umbridge Headmistress of Hogwarts School.” Her eyes shifting over you all, “This will be the headline across the Prophet by sunrise, and now, some long overdue humble pie. As I told you once before, Mr. Potter children deserve to be punished.”

Harry, “So what, you’re going to expel us?”

She shook her head, “Not all of you.” Her eyes narrowing as they fell on you, “Just the head of the Hydra. The source of the poison corrupting this school. The one whose arrival here has stirred up more mischief and delinquency than any other student in the history of the school.” In taking a step closer to you she extended a letter to you, “Miss Black, you are hereby expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will collect your belongings and be escorted from the premises.”

In your glance at Dawlish and Kingsley you said, “I wonder, have you ever considered you might be wrong?” Her lips parted and you shook your head, “Just curious, if, I was telling the truth. I wonder what depths you would sink to in hopes of protecting yourself from them.” Her eyes narrowed at you as you said, “One flaw in your plan is, you can knock me down and try to darken my name, but I’m still going to save you.” The students behind you shifted on their feet wondering why you would protect her as you stepped closer to her making her extend her useless wand at you, “For one reason alone, to see your face, yours and Fudge’s, when you see that I’m right, and you left the door wide open for him to stroll right back in.”

In their silence Fred stated, “You know, George...I've always felt our futures lay outside the world of academic achievement.”

George, “Fred, I've been thinking exactly the same thing.”

“All right, Professor! Here you go.”

They both stated with smirks behind you, “Ready when you are.” All shifting into Phoenixes to soar out the open balcony door to aparate off home while Wildfire Whiz-bangs soared off through the halls chasing her out of the office the teens hurriedly followed, seeing the minefield of charms leading up to her pink kitten decorated office surrounded by a portable swamp charm. In a zap your things were sent home while Cedric took the position of head of the group at your previously laid plans in case she had ever expelled you to keep the others safe and prepared for anything.

Straight through the door of your bedroom you had all aparated to you shifted and strolled though the halls and down the steps to find Albus speaking with your father, Regulus and Remus who all stood when they saw you. Albus, “I had hoped you would get more time in the school.”

You shook your head and George answered, “Impatient little woman that one.”

Sirius hurried over and hugged you three tightly, “They’ll change their minds. Sooner rather than later, can’t be long now.”

Regulus nodded as you were freed, “Either way no doubt you can still have your lessons mailed home, just to keep up.”

You three nodded and Remus eyed you all, “Best you try to sleep. We can have a family meeting with Molly and Arthur over breakfast.”

Turning around you strolled up to your room again where you all settled into sharing your bed to sit up discussing your plans for what to do to keep busy out of school. That conversation didn’t last long as only a few minutes after you had lounged back against your pillows Idris began to hum and you all drifted off to sleep.

Upon news of your expulsion a full out war was called on Umbridge to make her regret ever entering the school. Even against her tries to form an Inquisitorial Squad of Slytherins to bully and spy on the others innumerable pranks, tricks and incidents befell the new Headmaster. In your absence Peeves led the others in the war guiding them on the best times and hiding spots of her paths he had already memorized after spying on her for so long. From bursting out of blackboards, pushing over statues, toppling neatly stacked piles of parchment into fires to blowing raspberries every time she spoke Peeves held a busy day but enjoyed every moment of it feeling a great lack of luster in the school after you four had left.

A try for a Minister order to banish Peeves was tried and failed miserably as he was manifested by the school and first students themselves in their repressed delinquency at molding into the rigorous school list from being at home constantly. And to add insult to injury the school sealed up the Headmaster’s office out of her access even from the balcony leaving her to rule over the school from her own tiny powder pink office causing her to throw an amusing right little tantrum.

Professors who hated her before adored the chance for a bit of revenge, her orders to sweep the school for any traps you had left for her was met with an outright aloof sigh that none of them had the ‘authority’ to do so only reminding her of her magical block in each time she felt the urge to hex one of them. Favors, house points and sweets for those objecting against Umbridge were gifted from the Professors as a sort of enforcement to remain steadfast against her. Flitwick especially loving to pass out Sugar Mice upon his favored students casting several advanced charms to obscure her way while he treasured the swamp you had left he saved a small portion of upon an Auror’s arrival to aid in its reversal.

A shared dream of Rookwood sharing news of the Department of Mysteries and the Hall of Prophecies, in which you knew an item he hoped to lure Harry into taking for himself, came with a hope he was keeping up his Occlumency lessons A letter to Harry shared you knew what he had seen and understood it followed by your hope that he would continue his lessons with Snape in hope of protecting himself in your distance from him. Questions of course were the response. Directed to Sirius and Remus as to how his father truly was after seeing that at least to Snape he was arrogant and cruel seemingly without reason. One single sneak of a glance into Snape’s pensieve and that was the only thing on his mind, learning the truth about the man he resembled so closely.

Next clearly came a question as to why Snape was targeted by them. Sharing his concerns however only seemed to worsen his worries at having to wait while heading off to his bed to get away from Hermione who struggled to accept Harry’s sneaking through Snape’s memories and his lenience with his lessons knowing how hard you try on yours.

Astronomy class however at midnight grew to quite a commotion as on the first of December Hagrid’s hut was approached by five Aurors, all of whom stunned to find, upon your warning, the hut empty without any trace of Hagrid.

***

Morning after expulsion had you three jolting from sleep at Molly’s shout of, “Expelled?!”

Grumbling in your pile of covers and limbs you shifted free of the covers and hurried to brush your teeth and head down for the breakfast K was making to celebrate your first meal home again. Arthur smiled at you three saying, “I am certain this will be over soon enough, and then it can easily be overturned.”

To which Albus agreed, a curious glance from Molly had her asking, “Any more dreams?”

You shook your head, “No, though I had a question, how do I know Rookwood?”

Regulus, “Augustus Rookwood?” You nodded, “He was a spy in the Ministry.”

“Which department?”

Arthur, “The only one that matters most likely to him, Department of Mysteries.”

Molly, “Odd feeling about him?”

You shook your head then glanced at Regulus, “Only that he might not be so useful before long.”

Regulus nodded, “He did write to me. Hoping to avoid that end.”

Albus asked aloud, “How could he possibly be useful?”

You shrugged and said, “Not a clue, but soon we can find out. Even something trivial for the time being.”

Regulus added cream to his mug and stirred it with his finger saying, “He is quite adept with maps, we could keep him occupied if Riddle suddenly gets finicky around him.”

“Shouldn’t be hard.”

Fred, “They all in that mansion, hidden away?”

Regulus nodded, “Yup. Best they stay there too. Even if they could cross the borders of our lands I doubt for the few moments until they are ejected would be pleasant.”

Sirius sighed, “I am not overly fond of the notion of Bella being loose, however, I suspect her focus will be more on Riddle than anything else.”

You nodded and raised your own mug, “Ya, got that. Narcissa said she’d try to remind her of that. To keep her busy. Might free up Peter a bit.”

At his name your father subtly flinched at the lingering bite in your tone you’d yet to lose in saying his name away from him. A timid trust was now between you and as your key informant with the greatest trust and a direct channel to Riddle had him in a safe place for now aiding you both greatly as the painful past had to be overseen for his motives in his choice at the impossible decision of watching Riddle’s attacks on your mother to keep you hidden. Sirius inhaled then asked as aloofly as he could muster, “How is Peter?”

“Getting used to his new hand, apparently Riddle rarely is without him. Had to write me in the toilet, burned a mental pulse of what he hoped to write me in a slip of paper.”

George, “He’s getting better at it.”

Fred, “Last one was terribly jumbled, had to pop in to copy it straight form his mind.”

Remus, “And they aren’t expecting you back anytime soon?”

You shook your head and Regulus answered, “No, best to keep a wide berth. Mainly slipped notes and letters for now. Even Riddle’s testy on getting her around the escapees.”

Molly lowered her mug then asked you, “This ghoul blood you mentioned, is that what’s making him so focused on you?”

Regulus shook his head, “Not yet.” You looked to him, “No, apparently Riddle was more obsessed with Jewels than the Potters back then. Never let up on her. Used to spend hours tracing back the family tree, even looked up the Evans’.” In a glance at Sirius with his jaw clenched Regulus added reluctantly, “She’s family. One thing she’s got over Bella on him, blood.” To help ease Sirius some more he added, “Veela does help too. Might have a stronger pull, ghouls to flock to them when they can find one.”

The mail broke through your conversation and you all dug into it sharing bits and pieces until you three lit up at having the final copies of your ownership documents in your hands for the shop of your dreams you had decided to go drop in on today with Arthur and Sirius as the others went off to work and Albus went back up to his room.

Comfortably dressed Fred, George, you, Sirius and Arthur strolled through the streets up to the grin inducing purple corner building. Up the steps you trotted to the door your relative opened with a wide grin. Inside the usually scarcely filled sales floors scattered with random patches of furniture seemed to welcome you with a flicker of the lights and while George accepted the keys your relative collected his trunks in a mokeskin pouch and beamed all the way out the door to hurry off to catch his train to his retirement.

All together you strolled through ensuring the closed sign was up for you to start laying the enchantments on the building casting hidden draconic runes along the walls and outer foundations. Each floor you strolled through marking chalk outlines on the floor for certain sections for your wares and explored the four story building.

A shuffle of floating furniture lingering behind was arranged to accommodate the displays. Tiny flags on sticks hovered above the sections for another run through stroll through each to mentally map it out before you copied it all down on paper and packed it all away in a trunk on each floor left for selling and you all took the stroll to head down the street to the enchanted paint shop.

Nipping at your lips you eyed the selections of colors to match the sketches you had already decided on months prior in your journal packed with all the plans. Beaming behind you your fathers watched you hand over the list of what you needed with a few additions for tiny accents or signs in shimmering or color changing paint, even one with disappearing paint for a sign that is more of a mirage depending on where you stand.

The wide spread of paint floated around you on the stroll back to the building seemingly shivering the dust off its outer bricks and shingles in your return. The brown signage above the door now bearing the lettering you had chosen for it soon to be added to with the moving sculpture in a few days. Back through the door you each took a section on the first floor and with the windows open freeing the sound of the radio in the middle of the floor playing through your painting spree on the self dusted walls, shelves and borders adding to the visual separations of sections. Outside more and more people strolled by eyeing the posters you had set up listing your opening in the near future stirring up a buzz through the streets.

From floor to floor you painted and then moved onto the floating signs you had already cut out in the summer months, in which you had already constructed the final touches to the displays. True you didn’t have a full four story shop’s worth of goods yet but what you had for the first two with a small selection for the future third floor that could surely grant you a cushion to complete the rest.

Leaving it for a few hours to let it dry you were off to a diner nearby. Around you the keeps from the other shops on lunch as well along with a few random customers all stole chances to pass by or scoot closer to your table asking about the new shop after having shared a uniform comment that it was madness to have expelled you three.

Pt 47

#Umbridge #Order of the Phoenix

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crimsonrevolt · 6 years

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Congratulations Jordan you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Alecto Carrow

↳ please refer to our character checklist

Jordan! I think I speak for all of us when I say that your application for Alecto completely blew us away. You fleshed her out in a way that gave a total feel for how you plan to portray her, and as I read further into your application it became even more clear. She’s such a well known character despite how little canon is known, and you’ve completely made her your own. I can’t wait to see what you do with her and where you take her in the future. Welcome to the group!

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Jordan, 25, she/her, CST

ACTIVITY

5/10-Unfortunately my job can be really insane and at the moment we’re short staffed so my hours can vary. However I try to be on at least a couple of days a week.

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

I found you through the tags, I’ve been searching for a marauders era roleplay for a while and loved the look of yours!

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

I have always connected most with Hermione! I’m 100% a book nerd who actually loved going to school and studying and doing homework. I’m also one to give my friends advice and try to help them (even times they may not want it), and I’m fiercely loyal to those I’m close to and would do anything for them. Basically I’m the nerdy mom friend who makes sure no one does anything stupid and makes sure everyone makes it home alive.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Nope!

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

Alecto Megara Carrow

Alecto-Greek meaning unceasing in anger. In Greek mythology, Alecto was one of the Furies; they are the Greek personifications of vengeance, and are known for being cruel and bloodthirsty towards wrongdoers.

Megara-Greek meaning fury.

Carrow- Carrow inn Norfolk, or Carraw in Northumberland. The first is assumed to have its name derived from the Old English word “carr”, meaning “rock”, and a word of Celtic origin; “hoh”, meaning “spur of a hill”. The surname may also have derived from the Welsh surname Caeriw which means dweller at the foot of a hill.

BIRTHDAY / STAR SIGN

October 23, 1957 Scorpio

OCCUPATION

Up until recently Alecto didn’t have a job, instead she had been focused on proving herself to the Dark Lord and carrying out any work that has been asked of her. Since the takeover at the Ministry of Magic she has secured herself a job in the Department of Magical Transportation. It may not be as exciting as some of the other jobs, but she knows it is beneficial to have a death eater in position to watch the floo network and keep track of portkeys. As well as use the department to their advantage when it is necessary.

FACE CLAIM

Phoebe Tonkin

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

I like the fact that there is so little known about Alecto’s past and we really don’t know why she is how she is. I feel like she is a character that I have the opportunity to expand so much on and really dig into her history and character. I think because she has had to grow up alongside her twin brother, she has had to prove herself over and over again. I imagine she’s grown up in this house where men are the ones in power and she was considered the meek little girl who had nothing to offer. Because of that I think she has had to be cruel and rough in order to prove herself to anyone. I like the idea of getting to play a strong female character who’s had to overcome anything and everything to get to where she is. In the past I’ve typically played the good, well behaved characters and I want to push myself with this character. I want to expand my creative skills by writing a dynamic character like Alecto and really dig into who she is.

–

Angry, crude, brutish, cruel-Alecto hadn’t always been the woman she is now. As a child she was just like any other little girl who thought the world of her parents and wanted to make them proud. She was perfectly content to be dressed up and play with dolls and toys while her brother learned what it meant to be a man. It didn’t take long however, for her to realize that she was merely an object to her parents, not nearly as important or valuable as Amycus. No, Amycus was the precious heir to the Carrow name and fortune. When their family was gone he would be the one to continue to bring the family name glory and power. She was merely another doll, one to dress up and make presentable, and one day to marry off to the right man who would make the family even better off.

Things changed once she was old enough to realize that she would get nothing, go nowhere if she continued to be the obedient and sweet little girl. Her first act of disobedience as a child was to cut her long curls into a short harsh bob, and to cut the fine dresses she had been given into ribbons she left strewn across her families lawn caked in mud and dirt. Much to her parent’s dismay she began to follow her brother wherever he went, determined to learn what she needed to do to prove herself. They began inseparable, anything she saw Amycus do she would do as well, and sometimes even better. She became one of the boys, enjoying the more strenuous and challenging activities that came with it. It only urged her on each time she saw the pride in her father’s eyes, a look she once thought only her brother would receive.

Still things did not come easy for Alecto, once she started school at Hogwarts the teasing began. Girls mocked her for the way she acted and boys wanted nothing to do with her because she wasn’t actually one of the boys. It didn’t take long for her to realize just how much she enjoyed proving them wrong, and how much fun it was torture those who pissed her off. She hid it well of course, in front of professors she was all bright smiles and charming words. Only in the privacy of empty corridors and classrooms where there were no prying eyes would those who wronged her learn their mistakes.

When it was time, she found her rightful place among the Death Eaters, though she knew she would have to prove herself. She knew what the others thought, what could a girl like her actually do for them? It came a surprise to many that she was so willing to involve herself in anything work that needed to be done. She was willing to put herself on the front line for the Dark Lord, to prove how faithful she was to his work. She enjoys getting to use her dark magic whenever she is given the opportunity, and willing to do what those of weak stomach won’t. She may seem cold and overtly cruel, but that is what she knows is necessary to make it in a man’s world. At the same time she knows that being a woman can also come in handy for sneaking around, after all who would suspect the sweet smile and gentle brown eyes of a girl like Alecto could be hiding a monster?

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

Alecto will probably have sex with anyone she sees fit to satisfy her. For her there is no emotional connection when it comes to sex, it’s merely an enjoyable and pleasurable act and one she tends to be completely selfish in. Romance is a foreign concept to Alecto and one she’s not keen on knowing more about. To have to trust and rely on any person who isn’t her brother seems a ludicrous idea. She seems romance and marriage as another way for men to have control of women and she despises the thought. As more death eaters continue to engage and marry for money and power she continues to fight against the idea. She wants her own power and position in the ranks of the death eaters, she refuses to marry into a position. She needs no man to be strong, she knows she is capable of doing so on her own.

As for ships I don’t have any, other than the strong bond between Alecto and her brother. But I am open to any chemistry she may have with another character once I get into roleplaying with others. Alecto identifies as a cis-female (she/her/hers), although growing up she has had tendencies to be more masculine in the way she acts because she knows that’s the only way she can succeed in making a mark for herself. When it comes to those she sleeps with she is pansexual, having no preference for whether her company is male or female.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER

-A MOODBOARD- https://xalectoxcarrowx.tumblr.com/post/177605267945/alecto-carrow-moodboard

-A MOCKBLOG- https://xalectoxcarrowx.tumblr.com/

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

“I find it a shame that we have so few curses to use on our opponents.” Alecto mused, a sick smile twisting up the corner of her lips. “Especially when I’m in need of information, I like to make things slow and excruciating. Perhaps a variation of the cruciatus curse, though instead of immense pain they feel as though they are slowly burning from the inside.” The smile of hers only grew and she simply shrugged her shoulders. “I feel it could be very effective.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“Amycus, obviously.” Alecto said with a roll of her eyes, giving the one interviewing her an unamused look. As if she would trust anyone else to have her back going into the Forbidden Forest. In fact, knowing her brother it would probably be his fault they were there in the first place. “Besides have you seen the two of us together? As if we need anything other than our wands.” They were a force to be reckoned with and a deadly combination, they didn’t need anything but each other.

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“That’s a ridiculous question.” Alecto scoffed and shook her head in response. “I do whatever I must, I know what is necessary and that’s all there is to it.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

Alecto was quite for a moment, acting as though she were thinking even as an answer had immediately popped into mind. Finally she looked up, face setting and showing only strength and hiding all uncertainty. “That I’m weak, or worthless to this cause. I’ve worked too hard, anyone to say something along those lines would be foolish.”

REACTION TO LAST EVENT DROP

Alecto is pleased with the way things are currently going, and she hopes that Cassandra Burke proves to be useful in the gathering of information on the Order. She only wishes that she could have been of more help in gathering information about their enemies. Still she does not complain, she knows that there are those who do not trust her and never will. She surely wouldn’t have been as helpful as Cassandra in this situation. Instead she waits patiently, she knows her time will come and she will be able to prove how valuable she is.

WRITING SAMPLE

Another engagement party. Another event where Alecto had to put on a dress and plaster an excited smile on her lips. Her parents could sense her disgust with the whole thing, though there was nothing they could say since she had agreed to go. She was doing her duty and she played the part well as she wandered amongst those she had come to see as a second family. Small talk had never been her forte but she knew how to be charming and could manage forcing small niceties. Every conversation was just a repeat of the one before anyway. Didn’t the couple look good together? The two of them would do great things for them, this would only increase their power and prestige, their forces were growing, etc. She smiled and murmured her agreement before excusing herself to go talk to another.

Meanwhile she could feel the eyes of her parent’s on her the entire time, assessing each move she made. She didn’t miss the pleased looks on their faces when they saw her talking to the eligible men, noted the calculated looks on their features as they glanced at each other. She knew they wanted this for her, no matter how she continued to rebel against the idea. She had proved herself over and over again, and yet they still saw her as a pawn to trade for more wealth and renown. To them she would never be Amycus, she would never carry on the family name like they believed he could. No, instead she would serve the purpose of marrying into another family of purebloods, one they believed would be beneficial to them. She glared in the direction of her parents, eyes not leaving them as she downed the rest of the champagne in her hand and rudely interrupted the one she had been talking to in order to excuse herself.

She had just been about to slip out of the party when she heard a murmur sweep through the room and someone clink their glass in order to get everyone’s attention. “Shit.” She cursed as she stopped in her tracks. Well she couldn’t leave now. She turned her attention back in the direction of the guests of honor, grabbing another glass of champagne from the waiter that wandered past her. Well if she was going to have to stay she may as well enjoy herself as best as she could. She stood quietly, a smile once more on her lips as she listened to them give a speech about how thankful they were for everyone to be there. How excited they were to have found each other and be able to spend the rest of their lives together. It was enough to make her want to gag, the thought of one day having to go through it herself was enough to make her sick to her stomach.

As the toasts were finished she rose her glass in congratulations with the rest of the room. “To the happy couple.” She muttered, the words leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She lifted the glass to her lips and downed the contents in one swallow. No, this would never be her life. She refused to let her parents force her into some kind of sham marriage that they believed would help them. It was all bullshit in her opinion, were these marriages really helping any of them? Sure they would produce more pureblood heirs, but she saw no other benefits. Just as she was about to make another attempt at an exit she saw her parents making their way towards her. She shook her head and sauntered towards them, her face set and irritated. Before her mother could open her mouth to speak she interrupted. “This will not be me. You want to marry someone off I suggest you find a suitable match for Amycus.” She hissed. Without another word she pushed past them and headed for the exit. No, she needed no man in order to get farther in life. She would gain power by herself and show everyone what she was capable of. They would all be sorry they doubted her.

#accepted app #alecto carrow #lsrpg #marauders era rpg #hp rp

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quentinblack · 4 years

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Smoke and Mirrors

Chapter 9: Ron III - I’m Fine (link to full story on FF.net)

Word Count: 3K words

Warnings: Some swearing

Featuring: Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger

Ron was ready to die.

This was it.

It must be.

His stomach was in knots and he no longer even knew whether he was the right way up or not. He clung on desperately to the plush-toy falcon as they span relentlessly in mid-air.

“I think we’re here,” he heard Hermione muster out before they were both violently hurtled to the ground.

It took Ron a few moments to recognize that the ground they had landed on was actually a thick, soft carpet and not a hard, concrete floor.

He pulled himself to his feet slowly and tried to take in his new surroundings, but he was instantly hit with an intense dizziness that caused him to crash straight back down in a heap.

Ron could feel his stomach rupturing on the inside.

He tried to hold down whatever it was that was coming back up, possibly the steak and kidney pudding that he’d had for lunch, but despite his best efforts he could only ensure that it didn’t escape his mouth.

The taste of his mouth filling with vomit then caused him to throw up all over the cream-coloured Kashmir carpet anyway.

He reluctantly looked towards Hermione, embarrassed to have made such an idiot of himself in front of her and humiliated that she would have to see him in such a state, but he was relieved to see that she too had just vomited.

There was an expression of upmost disgust and dejection on her face, as Ron saw some runny, dark coloured sick dribble down her chin. She gasped slightly when their eyes met.

“You’ve got sick on your chin… did you know?” Ron joked in a fairly hoarse voice, as Hermione laughed softly and cleared herself up after retrieving her wand.

Ron had just began vanishing the vomit he’d left on the carpet himself, when the brown door to the big function room swung open – and a tall, dark haired woman who looked like she was in her mid-forties strolled in.

“First time using a long-distance intercontinental portkey?” she asked in a knowing voice, as Ron and Hermione both nodded awkwardly. She had a slight accent, but not one that suggested she’d spent her entire life living in Australia.

“I remember my first time going from London to Sydney… nothing could prepare you for it. Trust me though I’ve been in charge of this portkey docking room for years and I’ve seen people chunder far worse than that. Some people even faint or pass out completely. Where is the port-

The woman stopped in her tracks as she saw the falcon in the middle of the floor.

“A bloody falcon! I suppose that’s Kingsley’s idea of a good gag. I’m a Wasps fan myself… I used to dread going into the Great Hall on a Monday morning when they’d beaten us at the weekend. Kingsley and his brother would always be the first to gloat… ah, those were simpler times… I’m Olivia by the way. Olivia Burke. You must be Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. It’s a great privilege to meet you both.”

Ron felt a small amount of embarrassment, but also great pride that someone from the Australian ministry would consider it such an honour to meet them both. He noticed a slight frown appear on her face as she studied the two of their faces in greater detail.

“I always knew you were all quite young… but to see how young you are in person…” Burke began, before a lump in her throat caused her to stop briefly. “Oh I’m sorry. I’m sorry… you’re here to get away from all of that.... Kingsley has made sure that you’ll have a good time and enjoy your stay in Australia. I can assure you that he spared absolutely no expense on this little trip for you both.”

“Oh but Oliv- Mrs Burke…” Hermione began before hesitating. Ron thought Olivia seemed to look a bit uncomfortable at being addressed as Mrs Burke.

“…there must be some kind of mistake. We’ve only come for a short visit whilst I find my parents,” Hermione said, as Ron gave her shoe a very slight kick. She caught his gaze for the slightest of seconds with an indignant look on her face. “We have a tent with us and we’re quite happy to pitch up wherever-

“Oh, Miss Granger!” Olivia interrupted. “Rest assured as soon as we have managed to locate and make contact with your parents we will contact you immediately. But whilst you wait your Minister has ensured that you both will be treated to the best in entertainment and culture that Wizarding Australia has to offer, whilst staying in the most lavish and luxurious accommodation that galleons can buy.”

Ron wasn’t one to readily accept any kind of hand-out or charity, but after all they’d been through in the last few years he rather liked the sound of that.

“But…” Hermione began, before Burke waved away her protests.

“No buts Miss Granger! You are both going to relax and enjoy yourselves and that is an order! Now if you’ll follow me I’ll be taking you to my colleague Brad, who will apparate you on to where you’ll be staying. I would take you myself, but well… I should have finished my night shift over an hour ago and I am absolutely shattered,” Olivia said, as Ron noticed the bags under her eyes.

“We’re awfully sorry to have imposed on you like-

“Nonsense, Miss Granger!” Olivia replied softly as she led them out of the office and through a long, bright yellow corridor. “You must forgive me if I sounded like I was complaining. It was a favour for an old friend to stay late to meet you both… and it is not every day even as the Head of Magical Transportation that you get to meet such decorated war heroes.”

Ron suddenly felt a bit self-conscious that the Head of Magical Transportation for Australia had seen his vomit.

“So if you’re just finishing a nightshift… what’s the time here, then?” Ron asked.

“Just past seven o’clock in the morning, Mister Weasley,” she answered.

“Bloody hell! So we were spinning in that portkey for nine hours?! No wonder we both chucked up!” he exclaimed.

“Not quite,” Olivia replied. “Australia is just on a different time-zone to England. It is nine hours ahead. You were only using that portkey for around two minutes and thirty seconds… which I can agree does still feel like a very long time, especially on your first go… but it really is nothing to how long it would a take a muggle to get from one pond to the other… they’d be looking at closer to twenty four hours of travel to get from London to Sydney.”

“Oh,” he mumbled. “But wait… that means we’ve travelled in time… to the future…I always wanted to have a go using one of those time turners!” he added happily, still kind of confused, but excited by what they had just done.

It had been Friday night when they’d set off, but now it was Saturday morning - what a mind-fuck, Ron thought.

Olivia and Hermione seemed to exchange a knowing glance, which went right over Ron’s head as he still tried to come to terms with the strangeness of it all.

“Ah. Here is Brad now,” Olivia noted, as they saw a short, fairly old looking wizard in the distance. He jumped up excitedly when he saw them and rushed over immediately.

“Brad… meet our esteemed guests and friends of Harry Potter… Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.”

“How ya’ garn?” he blurted out. “I’m Brad, but me mates call me Bradd-o!”

They exchanged pleasantries, before Burke excused herself and presumably sauntered off home to her bed after she had reminded Brad that there was to be no dilly dallying.

Brad ushered them to latch onto his arms as he readied his wand, but Ron’s stomach still felt a little bit wobbly and he hesitated.

“I kno’ ya must ‘av ‘ad one heck of a trip on ya’ portkey... but trust me I’m an experienced apparatah… ya won’t even feel it, Mister Weasley, sir!”

“Just Ron is fine,” added, feeling a bit embarrassed at being called sir.

“Come on then, Ronn-o! Miss Burke told me no piss fartin’ around,” he replied as he indicated once again for Ron to grasp on. Ron relented and instantly felt the horrible lurch of apparation as they left the Australian Ministry of Magic.

They came to an abrupt halt and from the salty air and feel of the wind Ron could tell that they were now outside.

“Right-o here we are,” Brad said as Ron took in their surroundings.

It looked somewhat like a suburban muggle park, with lots of vibrant, green grass and giant trees, many of which Ron did not recognize. These trees were a lot more exotic than the ones he’d encountered at Hogwarts or the various forests they’d pitched up in whilst on the run in the countryside.

“Where exactly is it we are, if you don’t mind us asking?” Hermione enquired politely.

“Oh don’t worry, we ain’t stuck you up out in the bush. Ya’ still in Sydney. This is Woollahra an’ trust me, Miss Burke’s made sure ya’ gonna have an absolute ripper of a trip. Ya’ stayin’ at the brand new hotel they’ve built next to Australia Magizoo!”

“Australia Magizoo?” Ron asked curiously.

“It’s the biggest Magizoo in the world,” Hermione replied. “It only opened in 1990… Newt Scamander said in the foreword for Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them that it has the greatest collection of magical creatures ever assembled.”

“Sheila certainly knows her stuff!” Brad added.

Ron didn’t remember anything in his copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them about a giant Magizoo in Australia. He thought that he would’ve surely remembered something like that, but then he recalled that he’d had Bill’s old copy of the book, which would’ve been published well before it was even built. Hermione’s parents would’ve no doubt bought her the newest edition available.

“Now ya’ hotel ain’t far from here, but before we head off I best teach ya’ both the most important spell ya’ gonna need for ya’ time in Australia,” Brad said, as he retrieved his wand from his pocket.

“This’ll keep the mozzies and all the other little buggers from bitin’ ya,” he assured, before pointing his wand at himself and waving it quite aggressively. “Impedio Insectum,” Brad cast, as a very feint, almost invisible trail of liquid smoke engulfed him, before he waved his wand in their direction and two new smoke clouds appeared and submerged Ron and Hermione.

The smoke smelt vaguely chemically, before it softy absorbed itself into Ron’s skin, briefly making his skin quite moist, before it then faded away as though it had never been there at all.

“That will keep them off ya’ until the next time ya’ have a wash!” Brad announced triumphantly, as they offered their thanks to him.

“Ya’ shouldn’t need the spell to protect ya’ skin from the sun that we all use in the summa’, doubt it will get hot enough for ya’ to worry about that,” he added, as he started walking north and ushered for them to follow him.

“Why’s that?” Ron questioned as they started following their guide. “I thought Australia was supposed to be really hot?”

“Not when we’re comin’ up ta winter Ronn-o, mate!” Brad chortled.

Ron gave Hermione a confused look.

“It’s the same as the time being on the other side of the spectrum, Ron,” she said. “Australians have their summer months during our winter months, so where it’s almost June here it must be approaching their winter… although it’s still not too cold I suppose.”

“Ah nah… won’t ever get as cold as you Brits have it!” Brad exclaimed from ahead of them, as he lead them through the park.

They soon reached a turning and saw what looked like a huge palace in the distance, which appeared to have several armed guards stationed outside it. The guards were all wearing a funny sort of big, black bushy hat – their outfits were finished off with a bright red jacket and dark black trousers. Ron couldn’t quite make out the big object they were all holding aloft in their right arm.

“Are they beef-eaters?” a flabbergasted Hermione asked.

“Huh?” Brad mumbled. “Oh ya’ mean the guards! Look bloody stupid don’t they! Ya wouldn’t catch me dead in one of those. But don’t ya’ worry, Miss Granger. They ain’t real muggoes!”

“Muggoes?” Ron and Hermione asked in unison.

“Or Muggles as you Brits like ta’ call ‘em. Muggoes. Muggles. Same difference,” Brad said as he shrugged.

“But why are there people dressed up as muggles outside?” Ron asked as they drew closer to the impressive castle, which was a real contrast to the only castle Ron had ever been in previously. It had far more in common with the pictures he’d seen of the glamorous looking Beauxbatons Academy than the gothic-inspired ancient Hogwarts architecture.

“Beats me Ronn-o, mate. Muggo culture’s meant to be all the rage right nah ya kno? Wizard tourism industry is boomin’ over ‘ere and up in Asia and The States,” Brad said, before pausing and hesitating slightly. “‘specially now nobody’s been wantin’ a go to Britain the last few years,” he added nervously.

“But why would witches or wizards ever need to stay in a hotel when travelling abroad?” Hermione inquired.

“You have all the space you ever need in a good tent. Just need somewhere to pitch. Even the richest guests were pitched up in the same place as us when we went to Cairo… they just had bigger tents that’s all” Ron added, as he noticed one of the guards slowly leaving his post to meet them.

“Beats me, kidd-o! But people don’t wanna stay in tents no more. They wanna have an experience,” Brad replied, raising his eyes dubiously as he said the last word and chuckled lightly. “Load o’ old bollocks if you ask me. Can’t beat a nice trip in a tent out woop-woop.”

Ron laughed awkwardly in agreement, but if he was honest he had absolutely no idea what or where in the hell a woop-woop was.

“They wanna live like the muggoes do,” Brad continued. “They want real muggo waiters and chefs in the restaurants… they want real muggo barbers to cut their hair…they want real muggo everything, mate!”

Ron couldn’t quite picture the appeal and thought that it was quite odd, but then he casted a joyous image in his mind of his Dad turning up like a little kid at Christmas, absolutely revelling in a muggle-themed hotel.

“G’day Bradd-o ya daft cunt,” greeted one of the black hatted fake muggle guards in a thick Australian accent.

“Alright Tezza, mate? Lookin’ sharp in that sack o’ shit you call a uniform. How’s Noreen and the kids doin’ these days, they good?” Brad replied.

“Sound-o, mate. Who have we got here then?” the guard asked, as he smiled at Ron and Hermione.

“Ron Weasley,” Ron said as he shook the man’s hand.

“And I’m Hermione Granger,” Hermione added politely.

“Bloody hell, Bradd-o! What’s a daft old bludger like you doing with our VIP guests?!” Tezza asked in disbelief.

“I told you, Tezza, mate. I’m a big deal down at the Ministry,” Brad coolly replied.

Tezza laughed loudly before patting Brad on the shoulder. “Ah I have missed ya, mate!” he remarked, as Ron noticed Hermione yawn, which in turn caused him to do the same thing.

Tezza and Brad exchanged a nervous look upon noticing this.

“I best get yous two off to check-in,” Tezza said. “I could get in some real shit if the boss finds out I kept ya’ waitin’ talkin’ to this dick-‘ead,” he added, throwing a wink at Brad.

“Cya later Tezza, mate,” Brad said, as he raised his middle-finger to his friend, who raised his in return.

“Well it was sure nice meeting ya’ both,” Brad remarked as he turned to face them.

“A pleasure to meet you too,” Hermione quickly responded.

“Thanks for showing us around,” Ron added.

“No worries Ronn-o, mate!” Brad quipped. “Should see the overtime I’m getting for doing the morning shift today. Anyway I best be off… should be able to sneak a smoke-o before anyone notices I’ve been gone too long.”

Ron watched Brad skip along back through the Woollahra wilderness.

“Miss Granger, would ya’ like me to carry ya bag for ya’?” Tezza asked as he guided them towards the extravagant gate of the hotel.

“Oh no… it’s quite alright… it’s enchanted you see,” Hermione said.

“Ah thank Merlin you’re not one of those VIP guests,” Tezza replied excitedly. “Some of them are dead keen on this muggo thing. They ask ya’ to carry their bags like ya’ would if ya’ was a real porter in a propa’ muggo hotel… but most the guests are so rich the bags are enchanted and light as a featha anyway!” he said in an incredulous tone as he adjusted his hat.

Ron laughed slightly at the thought of it.

“Now me boss made us all promise that we wouldn’t ask ya’ any sensitive questions, like. But me little boy would nevva forgive me if I didn’t ask ya’ just one.”

Ron gave Hermione an uneasy look, but she smiled slightly and nodded.

“Go ahead,” she said.

“Okay,” Tezza began, as he cleared his throat and eyed up Ron and Hermione with a gravely serious face.

Ron wondered what question the man would consider so important to ask that he would risk getting in trouble with his boss for.

It had to be about something massive.

Something really hard-hitting.

“Is it true what they say, like? Did You Know Who really not have a schnozza?”

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