Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 7-

Author's Note: I know most people have forgotten about this old thing. Can't blame them, it's been ages since I took a crack at it. There isn't any full blown drama in this one. More like piles of mysteries atop other ones while Hermione conducts an investigation of her own... Followed by another one of my 'trademark cliffies' as some people like to call them. ::wicked grin::

Since it's been so long, may I suggest going back a chapter to refresh your memory? Anyway, hope to see my inbox bursting with reviews!

And once again, it's AU- duh...

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"Sirius, could I- err- Have a word?"

"Sure," he replied. He beckoned Harry's new partner into the room, asking her to sit in the high back chair by the fireplace. He then followed Harry out of earshot from her. Harry wasted no time in expressing his opinion, or rather, complaint about his new 'partner.'

"You could have told me sooner!" he whispered, obviously about to go off into a tirrade.

"I'm very sorry, Harry, but there really was and is nothing I could do about this," Sirius replied surprisingly calm. "You need to keep your emotions and temper in check, Harry."

"I'm not working on this case with her," Harry fumed, his eyes fixated on her. She was knowingly avoiding his stare by looking rather fascinated with an old, dirty painting hanging above the fireplace.

"You have to. You two are the only ones with valuable information and experience that can speed up our pace on demolishing the Neo-Mort organization."

"She's a liar, Sirius!" Harry snapped. Sirius forced him to keep his voice down, glancing behind him to see if she heard him at all. As far as he could tell, she was putting on a good show of being oblivious. Harry took a deep breath. "I don't trust her. Not after everything that happened.

"I know you don't. But please, Harry. Don't make me beg more than I have to. She's valuable to us. We need her information." A brief silence arose between them as Harry crossed his arms over his chest and fumed at the floor. "And besides," Sirius continued, "she only agreed to come on to the Neo-Mort case only if she was partnered with you." Harry's eyes quickly snapped up to meet his godfather's with a very surprised look. "She said she only trusted you with this information and that all us other aurors... are incapable parchment pushers that don't know the difference between their arse and a hole in the ground."

"She said that?" Harry asked fighting down a smirk.

"Well, no. It's more like I know what she meant." A side of Sirius' lip twitched upward.

"Excuse me, Black," a voice behind them interrupted. Both men turned to see her rise out of her chair and approach them a few feet. "I apologize for interrupting, but I do believe that you said I would only be needed here for another briefing and strategizing with- Err... Harry. I'm sorry to say that my husband has fallen ill these past few days and I must return to him quickly since our nurse is unavailable."

"Perfectly understandable," Sirius replied in a polite tone. "We won't be keeping you long. I only need to give you both your equipment and some last minute details, is all."

Harry followed Sirius to the small table. Sirius pulled out two rolls of parchment and a handful of small gadgets that he had magically shrunken to fit in one of the pockets in his robes. Harry took the liberty of resizing the objects while Sirius began with the instructions.

"We should be thanking Merlin for this one. Apparently, four days ago a home two houses away from our target went up for sale. No Muggles are living in there at the time, so it's perfect for you two to stay in. Muggle repelling charms will be put on tonight. You are to take Muggle transportation there at five thirty in the morming. We don't want to draw unnecessary attention." Harry looked down through his parchment, glancing over the name of suspects, places and other subjects they needed to confirm. "You have three days, so map out your tasks carefully. Report back to headquarters in three days by six that evening. In any case one or both of you are discovered-"

"Yes, we know," said Bianca who was sitting in one of the wooden chairs, studying her parchment closely.

"Very well, I'll leave you to it. Harry, would you please?" Sirius asked moving towards the door. Harry nodded, following. Bianca glanced up at them, an unreadable expression lingering before she quickly hid her face behind her long roll of parchment.

"Will you be all right?" he asked Harry who still appeared to be very uneasy about the whole situation.

"I don't know," he truthfully answered. "All I can promise you, Sirius, is that I'll return with all the information we need. I can't guarantee anything else beyond that." Sirius eyed Harry carefully as if trying to detect anything that said he wanted to harm Bianca. All he could see was his surly face.

"I know you can't, son. Although, you will need to be the one to pry some rather critical information from her."

"What do you mean?"

Sirius dropped his voice another level and inched closer to Harry. "She's been away from the Irish office for the past two years, obviously. Because of her work tracking down those old Death Eaters, we have come to believe she's discovered something about the Neo-Morts. Rumour has had it that a former Death Eater is the head of their organization. She only works alone though. Has been refusing a partner since she first started. So, obviously, she keeps millions of secrets to herself."

"Tell me about it," Harry muttered. Sirius chose to ignore him.

"Old Herring, her superior, recently told me that she actually does have some information for our investigation. When we approached her, she refused to answer our questions."

"Curious."

"Indeed." Sirius glanced back again to find her averting her eyes back to the table. "That's why I asked you to come. We heard of her returning to Dublin and I immediately thought that maybe she would confide in you."

"Because we were an item."

"Exactly. But this recent development between you both can be worked around." Harry snorted. "She did volunteer under the condition you were her partner after all."

"That I still have trouble trying to understand," Harry said, his brow furrowing.

"Same here. Anyway, we cannot just go dismissing any breaks we get a hold of... Please stay alert and be careful." Harry nodded, his eyes showing he was in deep thought.

"See you in three days, then," Harry said.

Sirius gave Harry's shoulder a firm grip and stared into his eyes. Harry knew this was Sirius' way of saying he loved him and wished him luck. Harry closed the door behind him and heard the familiar crack of his godfather disapparating.

Now he was alone with Bianca. The woman he wanted to be close to more than anything else in the world a few days ago, was now the woman he so desperately wanted to stay away from. Looking over at her sitting at the table and judging by her face, he assumed she was thinking along similar terms. He steeled himself and walked the last several feet back to her. No sooner had he sat down to finish looking over his parchment that she slammed hers down and spoke.

"Harry, please, you must forgive me!"

"Your name and the word forgiveness in the same sentence do not exist to me," he said indifferently while reading his paper.

"Harry-"

"If I assume correctly, I am the only one from the two that is in any way familiar with Muggle technology," he said in a raised voice as if not hearing Bianca at all. "But then again," he continued glancing up at her. "When 'assume' is defined, it clearly means making an arse out of you and me... Well, more me than you."

"Okay, I deserved that," she said in a defeated voice. "But, Harry, if we're to work together in such a closed environment, we are going to have to work around this... obstacle."

"So now I'm only an obstacle," he muttered finally looking up at her. His deep green eyes were holding deadly fire again, but she refused to look away or even flinch, as if trying to prove he couldn't hurt her. Harry glanced back down at his parchment then around at the equipment sitting before them. "We'll have to split the tasks in the closest halves. I'll take care of searching the posts-"

"Err... I'll monitor the floo lines. I have a source in the network already. She could be of some use to us," Bianca said catching on to Harry's wanting to avoid the subject of 'them.' "The posts come in mornings. You'll be taking the day shift then?"

"No, night. That will be my last task before your shift."

"Fine."

Harry detected an oddly disappointed attitude coming from her but thought nothing more of it. Soon after, she held out a piece of equipment to him as if attempting to challenge or tease him.

"You any good with a camera?"

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Ron was jolted awake the following morning by the sound of glass breaking. He picked up his wand from atop the coffee table and crept across the lounge and into the kitchen. His head poked around the doorway and found a mass of wild and curly brown hair barely peeking over the counter. He could hear her muttering and cursing to herself. Ron couldn't help it. This was too perfect. She'd hex him, of course, but the look on her face was always worth being turned into a gerbil. Even if it did mean she'd dangle him above Crookshank's head as more punishment.

Hermione didn't notice the tall, slender figure creeping up behind her at all, with his hands out and ready to grab. She'd once again been thinking about Harry and those brief minutes in her flat before he left for Ireland. She'd been daydreaming and reliving the memory of how he swept her up in his incredible arms and kissed her senseless. And then came those thoughts of why he left in the first place. She still didn't understand why she didn't go with him. She didn't understand why her always dependable conscious didn't allow her to become stubborn once again and follow him to the inevitable danger. She loved Harry. She would do anything for him. She'd die if he was torn away from her in an instant. She'd follow him to the ends of the earth even if it put her own life on the line...

'Then why didn't I go with him?'

Hermione sighed, clearly trying to set aside those thoughts for at least a minute. She hadn't been able to think straight since he'd left.

'Thank goodness I don't have to go into work until tomorrow.'

"RROOOAAAAAAARRRRRRRR!!!!!"

"RONALD WEASLEY!!!"

Ron fell back against the wall, caught in a fit of hysterical laughter as Hermione continued to swat at him rather hard. "You... good... for... nothing... bastard!" she yelled in between her own laughter and punches.

"Ouch! O- Okay, Hermione! Stop with the abuse," he chuckled desperately trying to catch her quick and surprisingly strong arms. She calmed down and stepped away, brushing back a few stray hairs.

"I should feed you to Crookshanks," she said, going back to cleaning up the pile of glass on the floor. The pieces had gotten smaller since she dropped them when Ron scared her. Ron straightened up and went about to make them some tea.

"Why don't you use magic?" he asked, his head deep inside a cupboard.

"Because I still prefer to do some things the Muggle way," she replied proudly. Ron made a noise inside the cupboard. She finished picking up the broken glass in a dishcloth and dumped the pieces into the wastebasket. "I'm sorry about dozing off on your couch."

Hermione had been over the night before in desperate need of some company to keep her mind from lingering on Harry for the remainder of the night. Ron was somewhat successful, but he had fallen asleep on the floor two hours after she'd arrived. Hermione was more than contempt reading an old book from their small bookshelf. One of them had already marked off a page over half way through. But she never reached it for she too fell asleep on the couch.

"You know it's okay," Ron said, his head reappearing and held a small box of tea bags. "This is your home, too. No need to apologize for anything." Hermione sat down at the table and watched Ron.

"Sorry," she said after a moment. "It's a bad habit."

Ron looked back and grinned at her as he quickly brought the water in the kettle to its boiling point and poured it into cups with teabags for them both. After knowing Hermione well over a decade, he helped himself to fixing up her cup with the exact amount of milk and sugar she preferred. He then sat down across from her and silently blew over his own cup.

"I don't see why you still like to go about things the Muggle way when magic easily saves and gives you more time for everything else." Hermione shrugged as she sipped her tea. "Even Harry does that sometimes," Ron continued. "Once he cleaned about half the flat before remembering he's a wizard. He can be real daft sometimes." Hermione supressed a laugh as she set down her cup.

"I'm not the only one who sees it then," she half smiled. Ron chuckled.

They both quietly sipped their tea for a few minutes, both in a state of pensievness and unknowingly thinking of Harry's current situation as well, until Hermione slammed her mug down, sending some tea spilling onto the table. Ron had jumped from the suddenness and tipped his cup over as well.

"Ron, what the hell are we doing here?!"

The quiet Hermione of ten seconds ago was long gone and now replaced by everyone's favorite head strong woman.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, knowing fully well what she was talking about.

"Don't play idiot with me," she snapped in a louder voice. "We should be out there with him! Not here... drinking our damn tea as if we didn't have a care in the world!"

"Hermione, calm down," said Ron giving her a forceful look.

"No, I will not bloody calm down!" She jumped up from her seat, knocking the chair over. "Ron, Harry needs us. We have to go help with these Neo-Morts-"

"Hermione, please," Ron said in a very loud voice. She quieted down startled. "Calm down for a moment." He watched as she began to pace very angrily about the kitchen. He stood up and went to her. "Hermione," he said putting his hands firmly on her arms. "Harry will be all right. You know that and I know that." She kept her eyes planted on the counter across from her. "These damn Neo-Morts are nothing but a troublesome gang of good for nothing wizards. All they are is a disease to the wizarding world. With Harry on their arses, they'll all be sent to Azkaban withing the next week! He's the best damn auror the Ministry and the Order have ever had since Moody." Hermione still remained silent although she was now looking Ron in the eye. "Have a little faith in the man," he continued, rubbing her arms lightly. "He knows we'll always have his back. If he begins to get in deep over his head, he'll yell for us."

"How can you be so sure?" Hermione asked softly. It was amazing how much sense and cool Ronald Weasley had developed over the years. Ron merely smiled as if silently telling her she already knew the answer.

"Because he's told us time and time again. I trust him and I know you do too. He's not the same Harry Potter we knew from Hogwarts anymore, Herm." Ron tipped her head up and saw the weariness behind her eyes. "Finish your tea then go back to sleep. You'll need all your rest for tomorrow." The clock in the lounge chimed eight in the morning, making Ron groan. "As for me, I better get going. It's our monthly Sunday Seeker Sale and I can't be late."

Hermione watched him quickly clean his mess and set his cup in the sink then make his way towards the doorway.

"Ron?" she asked softly.

"Yeah?" His head peaked back into the kitchen.

"Stop calling me 'Herm' or I really will feed you to Crookshanks." Ron laughed and nodded.

"Sure thing, Herm."

"Oh-"

His head appeared in the doorway again, waiting for her to continue. She gave him a full smile. "And thank you." This time Ron only grinned. His head disappeared again and Hermione could hear his still too large feet thump into his room.

Hermione finished the last of her tea and set it in the sink too. She cast a quick cleaning spell and watched as the dishes cleaned themselves. She went back to her overturned chair and picked it up again. Ron's bedroom door clicked open and she saw him rush into the lounge to grab his cloak.

"I'll be back around five," he called out to her. "Are you cooking or should I pick something up on my way home?" It was common knowledge between all three of them that Ron's talents certainly weren't in the kitchen.

"No," replied Hermione walking into the lounge. "I was actually planning on visiting Lavendar tonight. I need to talk to her about something."

Ron shrugged and fastened his cloak. He hopped over Hermione's shoes and wrapped her in a quick hug. He kissed the top of her dissheveled head.

"Good luck with the sale," she said.

"Thanks. You sure you'll be alright?" She nodded. "Okay." Ron jumped back across her shoes, waved goodbye and disapparated out of sight.

Hermione sat down on the couch and began to pull her shoes on. Ron was right about Harry and she knew it. He really was different after his last encounter with Voldemort.

"But it still doesn't mean I'm going to sit around here and do nothing," she muttered to herself. A refreshing spell later and Hermione disapparated to the Ministry of Magic.

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It wasn't much of a surprise to Hermione that even on a Sunday morning the Ministry of Magic was rather busy. She hastily avoided talking to several familiar faces while on the lift as she wanted to avoid any questions that might have led to discovering her true intentions of being there on her day off. But then again, as several coworkers had put it with a good laugh, she was the overachiever getting a head start on another month's worth of work.

Briskly walking down the first floor corridor, Hermione turned a sharp corner before coming up to the Minister of Magic's door and slipped into a room at the very far end with a peeled gold sign reading ARCHIVES. If all had gone well, no one would have noticed her missing her floor and she'd have a few hours to herself.

Hermione slipped off her cloak and slowly began to walk between the never ending rows of overstuffed folders and books. The stuffy room was thick with the smell of old, moldy papers. It almost made her feel as if she were back at Hogwarts roaming the library. She wondered with a grin if Madam Pince was lurking about here too, waiting to catch a young couple snogging in the Potions section. She turned into a random aisle and began her search there. Luckily she came across an enormously fat file and knew she'd walked into the 'P' section and was now holding Harry's records.

There weren't any tables or chairs around so Hermione slid down onto the dusty floor and perched the papers on her lap. The first thing to meet her eyes were six photographs. One of Harry when he was a baby, another with him and old Gilderoy Lockhart during second year, during the Triwizard Tournament fourth year (she could spot the Hungarian Hornatil flying about in the back), graduation, one from when he first became an auror two years ago, and one from what looked to be within the last month. Finding nothing strange in them, she began to read:

'Harry James Potter... Birthdate: 31 July...' The light was too dim so she drew up a lantern and continued. 'Parents: James Potter and Lily Evans... no siblings... Graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry...' She continued flipping several papers and old photographs, already knowing what most of them contained. 'Underage Offenses: Three violations of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery...' Then came a copy of the court transcript when Harry was tried the summer before their fifth year.

Hermione had begun to find it strange yet very comforting that she knew just about every single detail contained in these documents simply from being his best friend. Well, everything except what had happened during the trial, which she quickly skimmed over then. Reading these Ministry papers she came to think of how Harry had hidden nothing from either her or Ron over the years. They, along with Dumbledore of course, knew much more about him than any old musty piles of parchment crammed into a tiny hole in what was supposedly the most accurate set of archives in all of Western Europe. Convinced there was nothing new within the file, she flipped everything over to skim the last few papers which she hoped were more recent.

She realized that Harry was soon to become one of the most decorated aurors in the history of the Ministry, mostly due to his Death Eater captures and the death of Lord Voldemort. She flipped page after page of captures until she came to the very last piece of parchment which was half written in. Running a finger down for anything that looked suspicious, she came across something incredibly startling.

"No," she gasped in shock. "There's no possible way it could be... Is there?!... severed all ties with... has relations with... who has been suspected of-"

Jumping to her feet, Hermione slammed the file shut and stuffed it back into its proper place and sprinted back down between the aisles, skidding into another one.

... It's impossible.

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Seven long hours later a bleary eyed Hermione was on the lift, patiently waiting to step out into the Atrium. So far she'd avoided all contact with everyone, that is, until the lift doors opened on the sixth floor and a rather stumpy wizard stepped in beside her. He was looking extrememly sour considering how he'd mutter to himself. But nevertheless he turned to eye Hermione critically then faced the gates again.

"You work too much," he told her matter of factly. "Not fit for such young a witch... You should be out there with some boyfriend of the week enjoyin' yerself."

"I'll keep that in mind," she muttered under her breath as they stepped out into the Atrium.

"Aye, best you should!" he called out behind her.

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"And..." began a rather bored looking witch at the front desk. "You're here to see...?"

"Ms. Brown," Hermione replied rather calm. "Lavendar Brown. I'm a regular around here."

The witch gave her a once over and continued to fiddle with her nails.

"Well, I apologize, Miss- Granger- but no one is allowed beyond this point of the Daily Prophet without a proper appointment or employment identification."

"She might as well work here what with all the help she's given us," said a man coming up behind Hermione. He looked incredibly handsome in dark silver robes which served to bring out the specks of silver in his green eyes.

"'Afternoon, love," he said with a bow to Hermione.

"Good afternoon, Kingston," she replied.

"Give her the pass, Jane." The witch sneered up at Kingston while handing Hermione a vistor's pin with her name. With a curt nod, Kingston put a hand on Hermione's lower back and led her away towards the news room which was in its usual hustle and bustle.

"What brings you here on this lovely Sunday?" he asked cheerfully over the ruckus.

"Just came to see Lavendar," she replied keeping an eye out for said friend. She turned around to look at him properly. "And you? I specifically remember you saying something about taking a week off starting yesterday."

"Oh- well, you see- Big scoop!" he stuttered as they weaved through hustling witches and wizards.

From somewhere across the room they both heard someone shout Kingston's name. Apparantly it was the boss since he immediately left her side and called back that he'd see her later. Hermione continued to weave through desks in search of Lavendar. She passed people dictating to their quills. A few were reading their stories aloud while editing, and a large group of witches happily chattering besides several large steaming coffee pots. From amidst the gaggle of women Hermione noticed her friend in favorable mint green robes, laughing insanely at a joke while she clutched her mug of coffee in her freshly manicured hands. Feeling someone's eyes on her, she turned to see Hermione and squealed in surprise. Hermione was then vaguely reminded of how little Lavendar had changed since school.

"Hermione!" she shrieked squeazing out from the group and coming to meet her. "What on earth are you doing here?!"

"Erm, could we talk in your office?" she asked rather uncomfortably while looking at Lavendar's coworkers, all of which were glancing at her in return.

"Of course. Foillow me."

Lavendar led them across the news room once again, every so often being stopped by a person or two who'd hand her a file or ask her about her story. One wizard in particular, gave Hermione a set of nasty chills, seeing as that he bore a remarkable resemblance to a late Peter Pettigrew.

They soon stepped into a room near the end of the newsroom which was slightly cramped but still comfortable. Lavendar shuffled behind a large desk that sat in the middle of the room and started to dump several piles of paper off of it and onto the floor. She summoned over a pot of tea and cups from a cabinet behind her and served Hermione who was anxiously seated in an armchair across from her.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure?" asked Lavendar leaning back with a hot cup of tea in hand. Hermione graciously took hers and slowly sipped the scolding liquid.

"Do you remember several months ago you said you'd repay me?"

"How could I forget?" she replied happily. "If it wasn't for your lead, we would've never guessed Harold Brickback was behind all the evidence tamperings during the Malfoy trials." She took a large satisfying gulp. "Owe you a huge favor for that one, I do."

"Well," said Hermione with an unrepressed grin. "I've come to take you up on that offer."

Hermione sat her handbag on her lap and began to rumage inside its magically expanded interior. Lavendar watched curiously as she pulled out several files (top secret by the looks of them) and lay them down before her.

"You've still been keeping an eye out for dark activity?" Hermione asked cautiously. Lavendar nodded.

"Course I have- Why?" she asked quickly. Hermione could detect that small investigative fire beginning to burn in Lavendar's eyes. "You know something, don't you."

"No," she replied evasively. "I'm just trying to help out Harry with a case and you're the best resource I've got." Lavendar raised a questioning perfect eyebrow.

"He forced you to stay out of another case, didn't he?" she grinned.

"What," said Hermione in a stronger voice and acting as if Lavendar hadn't even said anything, "can you tell me about them?" She pushed the files farther before her and watched her friend's eyes spark in interest as she flipped through them.

"Oh, now you're on to something, Hermione..." She couldn't hold back a gasp as she read farther down. "Where'd you get this?!"

"I have my sources."

"Sweet Morgana," Lavendar breathed heavily. She glanced up at her anxious friend. "And there's no early information on them?"

"It's as if they appeared out of thin air." Minutes of silence passed between them while Lavendar continued to rummage through all the shocking information and its large gaping holes. "Dodgy, isn't it?"

"Very dodgy."

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