I said "next chapter coming next week", right? Hehe. Well, here you have it, the continuation of the story! It took while for me to update because I was so busy taking care of things during the last week.
Thanks for waiting and reading this story, and please do leave a review after reading. I'll be smiling like a madman when you do.
Chapter 9: Course of Action
Even though Harry was back into speaking terms with Hermione without ever being afraid of it, he was so flushed with what happened while he was inside Hermione's room that he didn't want to meet her yet for the rest of the morning. Harry just needed a little bit more time to think. He spent a lot of time sitting at the single desk in the room he shared with Ron, staring out the open window. His cheeks eventually hurt - he'd been smiling the whole morning while he was lost in his thoughts without even noticing it.
Hermione had tried to stroke his hair while he was looking away - it would seem normal for his best friend to do such a thing, but the look on Hermione's face gave it a whole lot different meaning. Harry thought he wasn't the only one who was struggling with his feelings - Hermione might have some feelings for him, too, and was also afraid to open up the subject like him. The only problem was, he could have just misinterpreted Hermione's actions, he thought. There was still a danger in infuriating her by assuming such a conclusion prematurely - if he had to know, he'd ask her about it and do it cautiously.
What to do about Ron? They both had talked about his budding desire with Hermione, and Ron didn't take it very well. Harry knew by pursuing his feelings with Hermione he might anger his other best friend, and worse it might change their relationship negatively. Harry couldn't imagine life without Ron. He was his first ever best friend in his life. He had gotten a glimpse last year of what it was like to have Ron as his enemy, and Harry swore it wasn't a very pleasant feeling when he and his best friend were engaged in a cold war.
- Look, Harry, he'll understand eventually. He's just over-reacting. He'll come to accept you were born for Hermione sooner or later…
"Yeah, I think that's right," Harry muttered under his breath.
- Just do everything nicely and carefully and you'll be fine…
"Uh-huh."
Harry shrugged and looked at his watch. It was already a few minutes past eleven in the morning and soon it'll be lunchtime. He wondered where Ron was at the moment - he had not gone up to their room since dawn. Sighing, he stood up to get out of the room for the first time today. He'd meet up with Ron soon enough, he thought, since Grimmauld wasn't such a big place for someone to get lost in.
As he walked out the corridor he saw the girls' room door open. He wanted to know if Hermione was inside and he knocked on the door twice.
"Hermione, are you in there?" he asked as softly as he could, but enough to be heard.
"She took a walk in the garden, Harry," said Ginny's voice.
"Oh, thanks!" Harry replied, and walked down on the stairs. When he landed on the first floor, he saw Remus Lupin, who was sitting on the couch near the fireplace and reading the day's issue of the Daily Prophet. The last time Harry had seen Lupin was during the end of his third year at Hogwarts. There was no sign of everyone else though he heard some sounds of activity near the dining room.
"Professor Lupin!" Harry called his former teacher happily.
Lupin snapped his head at Harry, broke into a wide smile, and stood up to greet Harry. "Good to see you again, Harry," he said, shaking Harry's hand. "I was told you were here already since yesterday and I was so eager to see you after more than a year."
"Same here, Professor," replied Harry. "How's life after - you know - Snape let slip you were a werewolf…"
Lupin mocked a growl. "Dreadful! Been jobless ever since. But we still get to meet once in a while for this little group we're having…"
"The Order of the Pheonix…"
"That's right," Lupin said, smiling. "Has Sirius told you about it yet?"
"I wish - but we didn't get to get together longer after my conversation with Dumbledore. Where's Sirius, anyway?"
"He's not around - Dumbledore asked him to do something somewhere other than Grimmauld. Other than that he's usually in the attic if you don't see him around here - that's his usual place he coops up in with Buckbeak when he wants to be alone. Sometimes I worry about the man."
"Why? He looked okay yesterday," said Harry concernedly.
"I'm not sure," said Lupin tentatively. "I think it'll be good if you could talk to him when he comes back. I want to know what's going on his mind, too, and I guess you're the only one who could let him talk about it. But Sirius is a good man - he's very hospitable with everyone in his house. He just hadn't been out of here for so long. Dumbledore's so strict about it ever since. He doesn't want him to get caught and hurt by the Death Eaters, but today he had his first outdoor assignment. "
Harry nodded. He knew how Sirius felt - being imprisoned for thirteen years and on the run for a couple more, it would really feel very lonely being restricted to his freedom. Sirius was a very capable wizard who could defend himself he needed to, but Harry still thought he could still be vulnerable when he was outdoors. He suddenly felt worried for Sirius now that he was out. But was he safe in this old house, too? Harry asked the question with Lupin.
"Grimmauld is unplottable, Harry," answered Lupin confidently. "It has been subjected to a special kind of Fidelius Charm - Dumbledore is the Secret Keeper. We're all safe here from Voldemort. That's why he wanted you here as soon as you stepped out of Hogwarts along with the Weasleys. Fortunately no one among you got hurt at the Burrow that night - Dumbledore was upset about the attack and vowed not to take your safety for granted anymore."
"Any news about the attacks last night in the Prophet?"
Lupin's face looked grim. "Yes, but not the way we want it," he said, shrugging, taking the paper off the coffee table, and giving it to Harry. "Here, you might want to read it…"
"Death Eater Attacks a Hoax"
As soon as Harry read the Headline, he didn't want to read it further like other issues of the Prophet before this and threw the paper on the couch. He knew where this report was going.
"I guess not…the feeling's mutual," Lupin said, shaking his head and laughing softly.
"Fudge's really controlling everything, doesn't he?" said Harry furiously. "Even the press. He's getting more dictatorial! After last night, were there other attacks, too?"
Lupin shook his head. "Not a thing - the Death Eaters seem to prefer striking at night. We're still yet to see them acting during the daytime, but I do believe we won't be waiting for long. We're expecting more attacks coming in the days ahead…"
"There you are, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley as she got out of the kitchen holding a large tray of freshly baked bread and placing it on the table. The scent was so good that Harry's stomach growled in anticipation for lunch. "Could you help me call for the others? We must be quiet, though, because you know…" She placed a finger on her lips and pointed at the covered portrait of Mrs. Black; the velvet drapes seemed to be breathing. Harry nodded and slowly went for the back door where he believed the garden would be located. The first person he ever thought to look for was Hermione. Lupin went up the stairs to call on anyone who were in the rooms.
Harry's jaw dropped when he opened the back door. Grimmauld's garden looked vast and well kept like it was constantly attended by a skilled gardener. There were well trimmed hedges, mowed lawns, and walkways void of fallen leaves from the couple dozen tall trees that stood within its perimeter. The odd thing was that all the plants weren't covered of snow (it was still winter) - it looked just like spring. Harry felt he could stay here all afternoon just admiring the landscape. He felt warm, so he took off his thick clothes and left them inside the house.
He walked deeper through the walkway and ended up near the fountain and looked around for Hermione, but there was no sign of her. He looked up, and he noticed an owl flying around in circles just above the tree canopy, clutching an envelope. Harry observed it for a little longer, and it was the first time he had ever seen an owl that seemed to be at a loss finding the letter's recipient. That was strange, Harry thought.
He waved at the owl in order to notice him (the letter could be for him) - the owl did, but it shook its head and kept on flying in circles. If the letter was for him, the owl should have given it to him already.
He then saw movement at the opposite side of the fountain - it was Ron and Hermione walking side by side talking. Harry smiled at first when he saw them together, but then felt an odd sense of sadness coming from within him. He didn't understand why, but it bothered him slightly that Ron had already spent more time with Hermione than him today. He sighed and approached them less spiritedly.
"Hi, Harry," said Hermione happily as she sat down on a bench. "We've been waiting for you for ages to come down from your room - is anything wrong?" Ron, on the other hand, looked slightly stone faced though he managed a slight smile for Harry.
Harry quickly shook his head. "Oh, no - I was just thinking," he replied, snatching a glance at Ron. "I came to tell you both that lunch's ready. By the way, have you seen that owl flying around as if it was looking for someone to deliver its letter to?" When Harry looked up; the owl was still flying above them in circles.
Hermione and Ron both looked up the sky, too.
"It's been doing that almost all morning - strange," said Hermione. "Poor owl, it must be tired and hungry."
However, Ron snorted. Harry and Hermione both looked at him, baffled.
"What's so funny, Ron?" asked Hermione.
"I know why he can't see us," replied Ron, still looking up to the owl. "Grimmauld's unplottable and Dumbledore could have only allowed mail delivery to anyone from outside authorized to do so - like our parents. I know it's not for me - my whole family's here and I don't know anyone else."
"It could be mine!" exclaimed Hermione worriedly. "What if it could be from Mum and Dad?"
Ron looked at her, his face frowning. "Didn't you hear what I just said, Hermione? If it's from your parents, then you could have gotten it already. Who else do you know?"
Hermione, however, looked away from Ron. Harry knew who she was thinking of, and he didn't need to mention it.
"I know - Krum," smirked Ron, and Hermione looked instantly annoyed. "Still writing to him, aren't you?"
Hermione looked at Ron with daggers in her eyes. "So what if it's from Viktor, Ron?" she snapped. Ron didn't answer, but he was still smirking, looking unfazed. He was beginning to act like Malfoy. Harry wanted to ask Ron to stop antagonizing Hermione, but he remembered what they had talked about last night regarding how he felt about Krum. Still, he could still try to intervene to prevent a heated argument between Ron and Hermione from happening next.
"Hey, it could be for me - maybe from Russelpunk," Harry said, placing his hands on Ron and Hermione's shoulder. They both found what Harry said surprising, though Ron had known Harry had received a letter from the professor before thanking him for his lesson ideas.
"Why would Professor Russelpunk be writing to you?" asked Hermione.
"Why would he be writing to you again?" asked Ron next. Hermione glanced at Ron then back at Harry again.
Harry told Ron and Hermione about the dream he had about Russelpunk a few nights ago. As Harry had expected, they let out their usual expressions when he told them about something weird and alarming: Ron's eyes had gotten round and Hermione buried her fingernails on her cheeks.
"Lord Voldemort might think he could gain something by murdering Russelpunk, Harry," suggested Hermione, "but what?"
"Sorry, I don't know," Harry sighed. "But he's seems to be in real danger and he could be Voldemort's next victim - we just can't do anything about it while we're away from him."
"Let's just hope he'd still be around when we get back to Hogwarts," said Ron seriously. "We could warn him, though."
"Yeah, but how?" Harry said.
"We'll write him," Hermione recommended. "Let's write him about your dream."
"I've thought of that, too," said Harry, walking back and forth, "but I'm not sure how he's going to take it. I was hoping we could tell him at Hogwarts, at least we could hold him still if he'd faint or freak out in terror."
Ron and Hermione murmured in agreement, admitting that they weren't sure how mentally stable Russelpunk could be. They could not forget how he looked like when Draco put him down in front of the class.
"How about telling Dumbledore?" suggested Ron this time. Harry paused to think about it for a minute, but he eventually decided against it.
"Maybe, but I think Dumbledore has a lot on his hands at the moment," he said slowly, "like taking care of this Order and Hogwarts at the same time. I think we'll just have to hope we could catch up with Russelpunk after New Year's."
"That's taking an awful lot of risk," Hermione said anxiously. "What if he turns out dead before we ever get back to Hogwarts?"
"I hope not," Harry said.
"Well, the only good thing is that it'll prove the Defence Against Dark Arts job's still jinxed up to now," Ron said nonchalantly.
Hermione, however, didn't find that amusing and said, "Why you miserable little…"
"I think we're missing lunch!" interrupted Harry quickly. "Let's go."
They all walked together in silence, but Ron and Hermione looked at each other from the corner of their eyes all the way to the house. Harry, at the same time, felt disappointed he didn't have a chance to talk with Hermione alone today like he hoped to. Perhaps he could still have the chance later on, he thought. He allowed his mind to look forward to something else like the delicious lunch up they'd be having up ahead.
When they had reached the house shortly, however, what they saw made them forget what was in their minds. Grimmauld had a visitor for lunch today, and he was discussing something at the table with Dumbledore, Arthur and Molly Weasely, Moody, Lupin, and Tonks.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped on their tracks just a few feet away from the windows. Hermione nudged her elbow at Harry's ribs and said, "Is that who I think it is, Harry?"
Ramius Palkov, the ministry wizard Fudge said was a fugitive of the law, was in Grimmauld Place. He was a stocky man who looked almost fifty years old, six feet tall, fifteen pounds overweight, and wore a scruffy looking beard and an eye patch.
"What's Ramius Palkov doing here?" said Ron.
"Dumbledore said he trusted Palkov during his meeting with Fudge, remember?" Hermione replied, squeezing Harry's arm. "I guess he might be a member of the Order we keep hearing on about."
"Maybe," said Harry, thinking. "C'mon, we won't know for sure when we'll just stand here. Let's get in and see what they're talking about." They walked inside the house together as quietly as they can.
"Hermione! Glad to see you're already fine this morning!" said Arthur Weasley pleasantly when he saw her, Harry, and Ron come over to the table to join them for lunch.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Hermione responded, grinning. She glanced over to Dumbledore, who looked pleased seeing her come out of her horrendous fever last night, and she returned his smile. When her eyes landed on Ramius, she suddenly felt cold because he was looking at her very intently, his face was drawn with unmistakable satisfaction.
"Harry," she whispered, grasping his arm with both hands. "He's looking at me."
Harry snapped a look at Ramius, who was still staring at Hermione. He would have demanded Palkov to stop staring at Hermione if Dumbledore had not spoken.
"Yes, Ramius," said Dumbledore happily. "That's her, Hermione Granger." He was oddly smiling. Ramius breathed deeply with tears welling in his eyes, and stood up courteously for Hermione. Harry just stood still, bewildered at the show of emotion from the man who looked menacing in the Daily Prophet, and Ramius noticed this.
"Please forgive me, Mr. Potter," said Ramius tentatively, "but it's the first time I've ever met the girl in the picture I found in Bulgaria…"
"Huh?" said Hermione.
"That's right, Hermione," said a female voice from the kitchen that she recognized at once. It was Olga Gargarin, the Auror Harry, Hermione, and Ron befriended. "He's the Auror from Bulgaria who found the picture left by the Oarling."
"Olga!" Hermione said happily, running towards and locking herself into hug with her.
Ron went over to Ramius first and extended his hand for him to shake, which Ramius happily took. "Mr. Palkov, if it weren't for you, Hermione won't be with us right now. Thank you!"
Ramius smiled broadly and simply said, "You're welcome, sir." Harry smiled at him at last and shook his hand, too.
Hermione and Olga were already through with their embrace and Harry joyfully greeted Olga. Hermione approached Ramius slowly with a deep feeling of appreciation for the man who had indirectly saved her from living a life like of a zombie. She didn't know what to say and just tried to follow Harry and Ron by shaking Ramius' hand. Ramius, however, took and kissed Hermione's hand politely, much to her surprise.
"I hope you're all right now, Miss Granger," said Ramius, smiling.
"I-I am," she replied, looking flushed. "Thanks to you, sir!"
"Actually, I want to thank you…and your friends. You defeated the Oarling in one night - Aurors like us had tried for years with no success. Calling it a glorious feat would be a huge understatement. It has relieved us of the huge burden for us Aurors within a thousand kilometers, and it's one less to worry about now…"
"There are more?" asked Ron, horrified.
"Two, I'm afraid," sighed Ramius deeply. "We thought the one you got was the last one this century and our Spanish and American counterparts are on the case for their own Oarlings, so at least the British and Bulgarian Aurors can now focus on other things now."
"But if they don't discover who the Oarlings are, the monsters could still get in Britain, right?" said Hermione, horrorstruck. She was still a little bit traumatized by her first and only encounter with the monster.
Olga approached Hermione and put a gentle hand on her shoulder and said, "Don't worry, dear, the odds of another Oarling targeting you again are a trillion to one." Hermione laughed along with her, but what she was now worried about was the other girls who might become the victims.
"Ramius, like Olga, is our guest in Grimmauld," said Dumbledore gently to everyone within earshot. "Please don't be wary of him, since he's not a traitor like Cornelius is painting him. He and Olga have my full confidence."
Harry saw Mad-Eye Moody not looking happy from across the table - he took a long swig from his flask, his magical eye locked at Ramius Palkov. He thought that Moody didn't seem convinced that his fellow Auror was trustworthy. If he were to choose between Dumbledore's and Moody's judgment of a person, he'd heavily lean on towards Dumbledore, so he chose to shrug Moody's strange look off and not mind it.
Dumbledore invited everyone to gather round the table and eat their lunch. Olga and Hermione sat beside each other, while the elder wizards grouped themselves at one side of the table and the kids (including the rest of the Weasleys) at the other. Molly had prepared spaghetti and bread for today, which tasted very good to everyone, especially for Ron who had three helpings.
"How's work at the Ministry, Olga?" asked Hermione, as she watched Ron in disgust over his bad table manners.
"I don't know if I feel lucky I'm still on the job now that Ramius and Nikolai Berdinski have been sacked," Olga replied, groaning. "I've never felt alone in my life - Cornelius is getting unbearable - I wish he'd fire me, too, because then I could go back to Bulgaria where I have lots of friends working in that Bureau. But with all what You-Know-Who's doing now in England, I don't want to get fired at the same time. I feel I've got a lot to do to help Headmaster Dumbledore here with the fight against him."
"Thank you, Olga," said Dumbledore. "Just keep holding on there. We're all behind you. We need all the hands in the Ministry that we could trust. We got a couple more there, but if you leave…"
"Lucius is getting important again, too, I heard," said Arthur. "He's actively influencing Fudge's decisions and I know he's doing all he can to make you look bad, Olga."
"Why?" asked Hermione. "What does he have against Olga?"
"It's because of the Chadron case, Hermione," answered Tonks. "Olga gathered evidence to link Malfoy to the conspiracy, but because of his 'magnanimous contributions' to the ministry as Fudge had called it, he was cleared. I'm sure he didn't take it all too lightly."
"What's bad," said Ramius, munching a meatball, "is that the suspected Death Eaters we have arrested were all released without charges. We investigated the murders of the wizard families, identified the perpetrators, and wrote all the letters to the next of kin, but Fudge intervened and fired us instead of helping us solve the case. He told us we weren't authorized to write the letters, but that's always been part of our job description and he knows it."
Olga shook her head and said, "I thought after that Chadron case and the first wizard murders we could net more than a few Death Eaters in the Bureau, but…" she shrugged.
"So who was among them?" said Lupin.
"Cassius Wallace is one - we have enough proof to send him to Azkaban," replied Ramius. "Only that Lucius is doing all he can to find and hide him."
"Where is he now?" Hermione frowned. She had seen this certain wizard back in Hogwarts conniving with Jack Chadron and was eager to know what had happened to him.
"That - that's classified, Hermione," said Arthur uneasily. "Let's just say he's in proper custody, right Ramius?"
"That's true," he replied. Harry, meanwhile, swore Ramius' nose looked different a moment ago.
"Cassius is talking, all right," Olga said brightly. "Only that it isn't much - he's just a low level Death Eater, barely new. But we're getting bits and pieces of useful information about who the new Death Eaters are. The only bad thing we got from him was the sad fact that true Aurors are working in secret while Death Eaters are getting openly aggressive. It's supposed to be the opposite…"
Everybody looked at each other with gloom. Voldemort was getting on really fast with his sinister work.
"So what's the score the night before last, Dad?" Ron asked Arthur slowly. "You know, about the attacks."
"Forty two Muggles and twelve wizards dead," Arthur said, shivering. "The most significant was in Longley - thirty Muggles in one place." Lupin and Tonks both whistled at the same time.
"How can Fudge ever cover that up?" said Harry, slamming his fist on the table. "Professor Dumbledore said the resort was attacked by dogs the size of bulls! Who could possibly miss that?"
"I know," said Lupin. "Since the victims were all Muggles, the Daily Prophet naturally won't cover that. Muggle newspapers reported it in their own press that it was a terrorist hijacking gone bad - I bet Fudge asked the Muggle Prime Minister to cook up that story. I guess it fitted well to his agenda because he was selling the idea of going into a war with some other country. The only thing left Fudge had to worry about were the ones involving the wizard families being murdered in one night."
"What was his story?"
"Serial killers," quipped Lupin, and Moody barked with laughter. His laugh was derived from his feeling of intense contempt towards Fudge. The others found Fudge's excuse very silly and they laughed soon after, though halfheartedly.
"I've heard dogs barking in Xanthius when we were imprisoned there," said Harry, making almost everyone stop feeding themselves with spaghetti. Harry looked around at each and every face and said, "What's the matter?"
Dumbledore said, "That's the closest confirmation we have that the Hybrids in Longley may be linked to Lord Voldemort, Harry." The Aurors murmured in agreement.
"Was this the exact sound you heard?" asked Ramius, and he let out a loud and authentic animal sound that made everyone cover their ears. It resonated like a giant Rottweiler with a mix of an angry dinosaur's.
"Yeah, much like that," Harry said, massaging his ears. "But they were far away…"
Ginny angrily wiped her dress of fallen tomato sauce.
"Awesome!" said Tonks. She looked extremely impressed. "You got to teach me how to do that, Ramius!"
"Thank you for the compliment, Miss Tonks," Ramius said proudly. "There'll be a time for that, I promise."
"So the Hybrids are coming from Xanthius," Dumbledore mused, stroking his beard. "That means we don't have to look everywhere to find out where they came from."
"I'll tell Kingsley about it," proposed Arthur, "he was practically tearing off any reference to huge animals in the Ministry. I kept telling him they weren't Saint Bernards."
"Yes, you do that, Arthur, please."
"It's nice to know somebody's now doing something against Voldemort," said Hermione interestedly. "I'd like to read more about the Order - I've never found any subject about it in books…"
"To describe it with just a few sentences, Hermione," Dumbledore said patiently, and smiling, "the Order of the Pheonix, as what it is called, is a secret society of wizards who banded up together to fight Lord Voldemort. This existed before you were born, and it's only recently that this was reactivated because of his return. There were originally more than twenty of us, including Harry's parents, but we had suffered a high rate of casualties until Voldemort tried to kill Harry."
"So that's why my parents were killed - because they were members?" asked Harry.
"Indirectly, Harry. Not even Voldemort knew there was such a thing as an Order against him - he only knew there was a group out to oppose him. I'm asking all of you to keep the existence of this Order a very deep secret. Never talk to anyone outside of the Order about this and where it is found. It is the only group in existence to fight Lord Voldemort. Do you vow?"
Everyone around who was new gave their word to Dumbledore without any question.
"Thank you," Dumbledore said with strong satisfaction. "I believe I have some pictures of the former and surviving members of the Order around the Library if you want to know who they were."
"You bet!" said Hermione, looking excited.
"Now, Harry, Ron and Hermione," Dumbledore continued, "Grimmauld Place is your safe haven when out of Hogwarts. You will never be attacked like what happened at the Burrow the night before last. Even owlpost won't find you here, unless I authorize it. Hermione, it's okay to write your parents - just use the owls you'll find here. They're about the only people I've cleared for owl post. If you could hold on until you'll return to Hogwarts you can write your friend in Bulgaria from there."
"Yes, I understand. Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, though she looked visibly disappointed. Ron placed his fork on his platter a little more forcefully than usual, which made Harry look at him edgily.
Olga cleared her throat and said, "Professor Dumbledore, is it okay to…"
"By all means, Olga," he replied, bowing his head curtly.
"I think you already know what's in store for Hogwarts after New Year," Olga told the young ones around the table. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins nodded their heads.
"Are all the ministry wizards dispatched to Hogwarts by Fudge really serving You-Know-Who, Olga?" asked Arthur.
"Yes, I say just about everyone," Olga said gloomily. "Lucius had a big hand on who to assign. Fudge really trusts him, and he refused to believe they're Death Eaters when I told him. I then tried to suggest a few wizards our group could trust but Fudge rejected them outright. There are a couple of wizards tasked in Hogwarts by Fudge that I know aren't under Lucius or they're Death Eaters. They could be of use to us - make them our informers. I'll let you know who they are when it's time."
"You're doing a good job, Olga," said Dumbledore.
"Is Horace Whipple a Death Eater, too?" asked Harry.
Olga, Arthur, and Ramius were taken slightly aback - they didn't know how Harry had known Whipple to be one of the wizards assigned to Hogwarts. Dumbledore explained to them how they had found out. After hearing about it, Moody exchanged seats with Ginny and talked with George and Fred in an undertone.
"Yes, we believe he's the leader of the Death Eaters at Hogwarts," replied Olga. "Whatever happens, please don't trust him, whoever he is. If I can turn the two other wizards to our side, I'll send you an owl to tell you who they are so you can ask for help from them if you need to. Hermione, are you up to some sort of assignment from us?"
"Sure!" Hermione replied. She felt instantly excited to do something interesting at Hogwarts for the Order other than studying for a change.
"You're a prefect," Olga continued. "I know for a fact that Fudge will be deputizing Hogwarts prefects to help his Ministry Wizards police the school. You'll be in close contact with them to get your instructions. Now, we'd like you to look around casually and try to find out what they're up to…"
"You mean like a spy?" she interrupted eagerly.
"A little, but please don't overdo it. Don't go the extra mile and try to get in places you're not supposed to be - we absolutely won't permit that. They might kill you. You only need to tell us what your ears would naturally hear. But I really doubt it if they can afford to talk louder about their plans with students around. Still, a bit of intelligence is better than nothing at all."
"But, Olga," said Harry, looking apprehensive. "Hermione's closely identified with me. She might get into a lot of trouble nosing around…or worse, killed like you said"
Ron and Ginny both murmured in agreement.
"Yes, so that's why it's important that Hermione mustn't go just beyond hearing the Death Eaters' conversations within earshot. They might just slip a bit of information or two, and that's good enough. Hermione, you must judge whether it's safe to keep doing it at the first three days. Be honest about what you feel, and we will ask you to abandon it and just work like all other prefects in Hogwarts."
Dumbledore, Lupin, and Arthur all nodded at Hermione.
"I-I don't know about that…" Harry groaned, glancing anxiously at Hermione. "Please, let somebody else do it…"
Hermione, however, squeezed Harry's hand from under the table, which made him jump slightly. "Harry," she said, looking straight at his eyes, "it's worth a try - I'll cease at once when I feel it'd be too dangerous…" They both stared at each other's eyes for a long time, lost in their own thoughts, and only a fork the fell down from Ron's plate made them break off.
Dumbledore smiled and said, "Don't worry, Harry, we won't be asking her if we know she'll be in extreme or mortal danger. I'll tell her what and what not to do, and I know she could handle it. Furthermore all the teachers have been asked to keep checking on her, and we will respond appropriately if something untoward happens. We will all be responsible for her safety, I can assure you that."
"Can I also go with her if I want to?" Harry asked, just barely hearing what Dumbledore had said. "I mean, watching her back, too?"
"Certainly, Harry, but please don't forget the rules. Non-prefects mustn't be out of their dorms beyond nine in the evening. Also, in case you forgot, you aren't permitted to usurp the functions of the Prefects - even when walking alongside with them. That rule was thought of to prevent students from being seen wandering around the corridors at night by using their Prefect friends as escorts…"
Harry nodded. Dumbledore was giving him a hint on how to circumvent the rules, and he understood. "Yes, sir, I'm perfectly aware about the rules, thanks," Harry said. Hermione smiled at him broadly, looking appreciative at his show of concern.
"Just don't rely on it too much, Potter," warned Moody. "Some Death Eaters might have the power to see anyone under the cloak. It's a special skill most wizards normally don't tell anyone about."
"Thanks, I'll be careful…"
"Oh, goodness, look at the time," Dumbledore exclaimed. "We've been talking too long and we forgot about eating lunch. Our spaghetti's getting cold - I suggest we indulge ourselves with life's simple pleasures instead of sulking about the future, shall we? We still have lots of time to prepare, don't you worry. Molly, do you have any more of your delicious sauce?"
"Coming right up!" she replied from the kitchen.
"I think I'm fine already," said Harry, starting to stand up. "If you'll excuse me…" Everybody nodded without saying anything; they were too preoccupied with their taste buds.
"Harry, wait up!" Hermione called. "Let's go back to the garden. I'm still not through exploring it. Ron, you coming?"
Ron, however, didn't seem to hear Hermione, and kept on eating his fourth helping of spaghetti, though he did his best not to make it too obvious he was snatching glances at her and Harry. Hermione shrugged after not getting a reply from him, pulled Harry casually away from the table, and started to guide him towards the terrace outside.
Harry, meanwhile, had glanced at Moody, who was talking quietly with the twins in a businesslike manner. Passing by them, he managed to hear Moody say, "So can you make these things into other shapes, too, other than an ear? It only needs more magic to extend its range…"
He would have wanted to listen more to their conversation to at least know what Moody was on about, but he thought he'd had his chance to be with Hermione alone now and couldn't resist it.
-o0o-
Harry didn't know why Hermione suddenly wanted to be back in the garden with him after he excused himself from eating more lunch, but he admitted at himself he was getting excited about it. What he did know now that he felt tense again being this close to her - she didn't let go of his hand since they walked out of the house. She had not even spoken a word. She just pulled him to whatever direction she took, and eventually she chose one of the benches right at the center of the garden in front of the decorative fountain.
Hermione sat down on one side of the bench and glanced up to Harry. He felt petrified - he covered it up by looking around the snowy sky, saying nothing.
"Sit down here, Harry," Hermione said, patting the empty space on the bench beside her. Harry swallowed, and gently settled himself down. His palms were sweaty, and he tried to rub them dry on his trousers.
"Nice garden, isn't it?" Harry managed to say without choking.
"Yeah, I could spend forever in this place - it's so serene."
"Uh-uh…"
"Harry, I want to thank you."
"Oh, for what?" Harry asked gently.
"For worrying about me a lot during the last few days," she said, smiling. Her eyes twinkled back at him, and they ran around Harry's face fondly.
"Oh, you're welcome. What're friends for?"
"Friends…yeah," Hermione said absently, and she fell silent for a moment, looking around at the trees. "Could you tell me about your friend?"
"Uh, friend?" Harry said a little confused. "Who?"
"You know, Stephanie - Willard's niece." Hermione did her best to sound casual, but her voice was oddly shaking, like it was forced.
"Ah, Stephanie," repeated Harry. He didn't know how to start describing Stephanie to Hermione. Willard's niece was a nice girl, talented with medicinal magic, and it was not a secret that she was a fan of Harry's. But he had grown attached to her in their brief companionship because of their common bond with Willard. For Harry, that was harmless - they would have to communicate with each other more to learn about how Willard was amid his disappearance. However, Harry suddenly realized Hermione might be feeling uncomfortable about his relationship with Stephanie - was that why she looked angry back at the Burrow when they said goodbye to each other? Was Hermione jealous of Stephanie?
He glanced back at Hermione, who was sitting shiftily on the bench. She was looking around other than him as if she was waiting for his answer. He had to be careful with his reply, he thought, because she might really feel uncomfortable about the subject. He might be wrong about it, but he chose to be safe than sorry.
"She's just my acquaintance for the moment," Harry started slowly, and he told her what happened at Willard's hotel. Hermione listened very intently to his story, and gasped at the right parts when learning of the reasons behind Willard's disappearance. To Harry's relief, the new subject somehow had taken off some of the tension he felt when he was this close to Hermione.
"But that doesn't make sense, Harry," Hermione said, trying to tie up the facts. "What do they want from Willard? I've read about Metavira somewhere - it's just a healing potion, but I'm not sure for what ailment. I just skimmed that subject since I felt it wasn't that important to me."
"When did you read about it?"
"Third year," Hermione replied.
"You mean you've read about Willard two years ago?" said Harry, surprised. If by chance he had read along with Hermione the same book then (which was nearly impossible given his mild bibliophobia), he would have recognized Willard at once when he met him for the first time. What a small world, it was.
"Yep. Willard Wraskon was quite famous for his potion for a time, but he slipped off the public eye afterwards. I didn't know it was the same Willard you were on about after we got back from Xanthius until you mentioned Metavira. I don't really remember which book was it, but I'm sure it's in Hogwarts Library…"
Harry sighed. He admitted he only knew Willard by his first name. Not until he met his brother Steve did he know his last. Not that it mattered back then - he was too busy worrying along with Ron where to go after being tagged as fugitives.
"What were the names of the other missing scientists again?" asked Hermione.
"I kind of forgot," said Harry, feeling a little embarrassed. "But there was one Girbeau or something…"
"Ah, that would be Francs Girbeau, he's French. I got to look it up again at the Library. He made a different potion that's useful for some other use. I think we could at least paint a picture of what Voldemort might be after by abducting them - if he was responsible at all with their disappearance at all. We'll find references of their achievements, and try to find what they're famous of. Maybe they're cooking up a cocktail potion of some sort…"
"That's a brilliant idea, Hermione!" Harry said, impressed at Hermione's keen sense of thought.
"But, there's a slight problem, Harry," she said, sighing.
"What?"
"Some of them have a patent for their inventions," she said, shrugging. "We may not know what constitutes their own potions until their patents expire, especially for Girbeau's - his discoveries were only made just recently and he was making a lot of Galleons for them."
Harry groaned. He thought Hermione was already zeroing in on the reasons of their abduction. If they knew of the formulas for the individual potions these scientists were known for, they could mix it up and try to find what the effect would be. That was a dangerous thing to do, but at least they would have an insight of what Voldemort was up to.
"Well, I guess the only thing we could do is suggest to Dumbledore what you have thought of, Hermione," said Harry disappointedly. "He might get a new lead from it. It does make sense."
"I'll try to look things up at the Library when get back," Hermione volunteered. She looked real serious about the matter. "I can't take it if we're just doing nothing, standing around when Death Eaters are up to something. I can't believe Fudge's allowing Hogwarts to be infiltrated by them."
Harry agreed. "I dunno what he ate or drank, but it's like he's giving Lucius Malfoy a free hand. Surely Draco will be unbearable when get back…Dumbledore seems to be powerless to convince Fudge to call the Death Eaters off."
"Hmmph! That's because Fudge's using legal tactics against him…"
They looked at each other and said at the same time, "Malfoy."
"Let's not forget about Russelpunk, Harry," Hermione said. "We'll try to look after him, too. Your dream was too ominous for comfort - it meant something."
"Okay," Harry said, nodding. "And we do what we can to find out about anything at Hogwarts - we'll help each other. Hermione, Olga's right. You must be careful playing spy with Whipple or the other Death Eaters, too. If I can't help you when they'd hurt you, I won't forgive myself for the rest of my life!"
Hermione glanced slowly at Harry - he was wearing that same look on his face back at King's Cross. Instead of laughing about it, she felt thankful for Harry's concern for her. "Thanks, Harry," she said, smiling sweetly. "Thanks for really caring always. Uhm, did you really mean what you said about your dream…you know, the part where you thought it was me in the cupboard?" she asked slowly.
Harry hesitated to answer for a moment because he was initially afraid he'd go overboard with his answer and make Hermione mad at him. But he felt this was his chance - his chance to tell Hermione what he really felt about her. She was giving him the opportunity to open himself up to her. Was it safe? How would she take it if he told her he'd wanted her more than a best friend? He had to decide and decide now, or else it'll be a long time before he'd have this chance again. He remembered Hermione's actions back at her room when she had recovered from her burning fever. He hoped it was a good indication that everything will be all right if he just went honest with her. He breathed deeply and looked for the right words to say. Hermione was waiting patiently for his answer, and she kept on looking at him with renewed fondness.
"Yeah, I did," Harry said shyly. "It was real scary - I dreaded seeing you in there with your eyes staring lifelessly ahead…oh, sorry about. But it's all because of your eyes. It's the first thing that, uhm, attracted me to…er, you know…"
"Yes?" Hermione asked softly, her face had gotten brighter. Harry didn't see her face, though, because his eyes were busy darting from one spot to another at the garden.
Harry cleared his throat and breathed deeply. He shut his eyes, and counted to three. He breathed deeply like he was preparing for the words he was about to say were deep inside his lungs.
"But you see I believe there is something else," he exhaled, heart thumping. "Something more intense. I felt that not only I lost a friend, but I also lost something more special than that. I don't understand it, either, but I was afraid of the reality of never ever seeing you again, seeing your face, your - gorgeous brown eyes - " he said, surprising himself, but he didn't want to stop now that he said that.
"We've spent so much time together - as friends. We've been in so many places all these years. So many situations that - I don't know, that has bonded us even more. Yet I didn't take in what I'd feel until the time I thought I lost you. It was a dream, yeah, but it was all too real. Then I knew there is something deep that I'd never known I held on all these years, and I want to know what it is, if it's true - if you give me a chance to make it flourish. I want to know if we're more than just best friends. Are we?"
Hermione, however, was oddly silent. Harry didn't know how she had taken that - he still wasn't looking at her face. It made him feel gradually nervous. He had heard stories about best friends breaking up because one felt differently and the other hating him or her for it. Harry now started to regret what he said - this wasn't what he wanted. He could have given it more time. He was getting too fast. Maybe this wasn't what she had expected for an answer, perhaps something just milder. He dreaded to see Hermione at his side looking livid. He could see her hand slapping his face at any moment.
But she hadn't responded yet. Maybe he could still say sorry to her and tell her he won't do it again, he thought. He still had time! His head felt like a ton, but he had to look at her again. "Hermione, I'm sorry I…"
Fwump! Hermione had fainted. She had fallen down from her bench and landed hard on the stone walkway. Harry panicked.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed, going over to her. "Are you okay? Please answer me!" He lifted her up and settled her on the bench and fanned his hand over her head to give her a little breeze.
Seconds later, she came to, and she was feeling very groggy.
"Hermione, how're you feeling?"
She looked around, looking confused for a moment, and sat upright on the bench with the help of Harry. "Harry, what're we doing here? What time is it?"
"We were talking," Harry replied. "I-It's one o'clock in the afternoon. Are you okay?"
"Yeah, of course I'm okay," she said, though she closed her eyes and massaged her aching head. "Damn these headaches. I thought I was through with them…Omigosh! Did I oversleep and miss lunch!"
"No, uh, we were…"
"Could you please help me up? I got to go back to the house - strangely I don't feel hungry, but I'll have to eat lunch for the sake of it. I might go hungry in the afternoon." Hermione stood up by herself anyway and fixed herself up. "You coming?"
"Uh, I'll follow in a little while," he replied slowly. "Why don't you, uh, hurry up or you'll find the table bare."
When he lost sight of Hermione going back towards the house, Harry breathed deeply and sat back on the bench as if had sprinted for miles. He had managed to tell her what he felt for her but at the same time Hermione was attacked by her headaches brought about by her accident at Hogwarts. That meant whatever she was doing for the last hour or so, she had no recollection of it.
He then had his concerns for Hermione - he hoped her condition wasn't permanent like Madam Pomfrey had told him, because if it was, then it was just like dementia in a mild form. Harry felt pity for her again. She had gone through a lot of pain lately from her accident to her recent fever. But he knew she didn't need pity from him - she needed his patience, understanding, and help towards her recovery. Like a very good friend.
Harry sighed. Would he feel lucky that Hermione had practically not heard of his confession that might have offended her (even to the extent of a headache attack)? He felt he'd never know how Hermione looked when he told her about his feelings - if he had looked at her in the eyes when he told her so, he could at least have an idea how she was absorbing it. It would then help him decide if he'd try to tell her again at the right time. Now he was unsure of everything again. He didn't know if he'll ever raise the subject again fearing that Hermione might not take it lightly for real the next time.
"Harry, Harry, Harry," he muttered to himself. "Why's this happening to you?!?"
He stood up and slouched back towards toward the house, not noticing Ron staring at him from a window up the second floor, holding up something at his ear, and looking extremely disappointed.
-o0o-
"Take them away!" roared Lucius in his huge study at the Malfoy Manor, pointing to two shaking Death Eaters who had reported to him today.
"No, please! Take us where? Take us where?" said one of the scared Death Eaters, and they were dragged out of the study to an unknown place by their own colleagues. The sounds of their cries soon died out when Campion closed the doors and faced Lucius.
"Those incompetent fools didn't get what I wanted, Campion," screamed Lucius.
Campion chose not to comment and merely nodded. Lucius was fuming. His face was red and slammed his cane on his shiny table, creating a splintery wound on the surface, which Narcissa would be certainly be furious of. That didn't matter.
"The other group, Wilson and Oakley, did accomplish their mission, sir," Campion spoke softly. "At least we can take it from there."
"But that means I have only one to work with! One!" Lucius said, holding out his finger.
"What do you want us to do now, sir?"
Lucius didn't answer at once looked out the window to try to calm down and think. After a few long minutes he thought he could still salvage the situation. His task would be a little more complicated to perform, but Campion was right. It would have been bad if he also hadn't gotten the one he called the "Reserve", so he thought he should feel at least lucky that this wasn't the case. Voldemort was getting impatient, but he could still attain what he was out to do. Although it was against his and Voldemort's principles to use his newly acquired asset, it was better than nothing at all.
"Tell the others about the situation," instructed Campion. "They might have to change their plans slightly. Tell only those who need to know - I don't want any leakages, especially to the Dark Lord. I'll try to fix this complication as much as I can, but the important tasks must be done. We must settle on what we have now."
Campion bowed at Lucius and went off towards the door. Lucius shook his head and pushed a lamp aside with his cane, sending it to the floor crashing. There was no such thing as a perfect plan.
After gathering up some documents from his desk, he fixed himself up for his next meeting with Voldemort. Lucius was already lagging behind schedule, and the recent bungling of the current phase by his foolish Death Eaters may have pushed it even more. He decided not to infuriate the Dark Lord prematurely by telling him the whole truth just yet. Lucius got out of his office, regaining his confidence of still do the job despite the setback.
-o0o-
Next Chapter coming soon…