Hey, kids...here we go, another step towards the precipice...Thanks, as usual, to Lady Starlight for her work on this chapter.
Chapter 28: Dancing with the Devil by the Pale Moonlight
*********************Grimmauld Place********************************
December 20, 1997
3:00 pm
Harry looked up from another of Dumbledore's journals, this one going over his adventures in the Himalayas almost a hundred years before to watch as Ron and Luna crashed into the door coming of the Library and a small table set next to it and knocked down one of Hermione's carefully ordered piles of books to investigate. He shook his head and returned to the journal, "I'd make sure that I picked those books the way she had them." Harry turned a page and jotted down a note as Hermione appeared next to him, and handed him a mug as she sat back down next to him. She picked up another one of the journals from a stack, and began to read in the strong sunlight coming through the high Library window.
"Pick up my books, Ron," Hermione growled as she leaned against Harry, and started in on the journal that covered Dumbledore's time in the Auror service. She nodded as she glanced over a paragraph describing a particularly dumb dark wizard and his plans to take over the world with an army of Imperius controlled Hippogriffs. She snorted as she read about his downfall, forgetting to bow, once. "I had them in order Ron," Hermione hissed, not looking up from her book as Harry looped the arm he was using to hold his book around her, under arms. Ron rolled his eyes and flicked his wand at the dislocated pile of books. It leapt back onto the table sorting and stacking until it was, almost, as he had found it, "Switch the top two, Ron," Hermione commanded without looking across the room.
Ron did so, his eyes pointed at the heavens, "Happy?"
"Yes."
"I thought you'd be getting ready for the ball, Hermione," Ron said from the door, smiling, "How many hours did it take you for the Yule Ball?"
"....Weasley, I..." Hermione sputtered slightly, she paused and a slow, smile blossomed on her face as she snuggled into Harry's side, "It won't take any time at all, I'm already gorgeous, Harry said so, just this morning."
"He's shagging you, doesn't count," Ron coughed, and Hermione glared at him for an instant before they both chuckled slightly. "Seriously," Ron said, "you did look great; I'll even say that with Luna here." He frowned slightly, "Herms, Harry...I just thought you'd want to know...mum and dad will be there tonight, as it's a Ministry function and he's a bigwig now."
"Thanks, Ron," Harry replied for them both, glancing over to see the small grimace of annoyance crossing Hermione's face. "We don't have to be there until eight or so..."
"No, actually, Harry," Luna put in suddenly, thoughtfully, "you shouldn't arrive until nine or so...give the event time to start, and the guests time to...imbibe." The trio looked at her, dazed, and she shrugged, "Mum, and dad went to such things before she..." Luna frowned slightly and turned away for a moment, when she glanced back the usual, slightly vacant expression that normally decorated her eyes was back. "Of course there is always the possibility that Scrimgeour will try to use this as a means to implant Tibetan Ear Weevils, to control the guests when they leave, they can't be detected like the Imperius, so don't eat any cheese from the buffet," Luna added earnestly. "Because I'd miss you," she added softly.
"Ummm," Harry muttered, "sure." He looked across the room at Ron who was studiously ignoring the byplay, "Where are you two going? Headed directly to the Burrow, or?"
Ron glanced at Luna, she smiled brightly and grabbed onto Ron's arm, "Ronnie's taking me to look for a new familiar in Diagon Alley." She bounced slightly on the balls of her feet as she looked up at Ron adoringly.
"Yeah," Ron said slowly, "I guess we are." Luna nodded again and ran out of the room; Ron shook his head slightly and sat down across from Harry and Hermione. He looked towards the door, and flicked his wand, establishing a Silencing Charm. "Thanks for letting us stay here for the weekend, Harry."
"You didn't even have to ask, mate, you know that," Harry replied with a small smile.
"Just wait until we're asking you to baby-sit in five or so years," Ron retorted with a laugh.
"Are you going to ask her, Ron?" Hermione inquired, as Harry heard a distinct, soft Squee, in his thoughts. Harry rolled his eyes, before looking at his brother in all that really mattered.
"Yeah," Ron responded almost silently after a moment's contemplation. He looked down at his hands as they twisted together in his hands, "It's you two's fault of course..."
"Ron, I..." Hermione objected softly, but Ron shook his head and reached out and patted her knee for a second, before sitting back in the wingback chair he currently occupied.
"No, it's not like that, Hermione," Ron gave her a fleeting grin, "it's just that I see how happy you two are...and I know...well we could all be dead before this is over. And I...you know." The other two in the room nodded, almost automatically. "I'm going to ask her over Christmas, just have to see when the time is right." Harry nodded knowingly as Ron went on, "I still need to get a ring, though...I haven't, I was going to that day in Hogsmeade, but you know how that day went."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, "we remember." His and Hermione's thoughts shot back, two weeks ago to the Dementor attack on Hogsmeade, an attack that had mysteriously never made the papers. The Ministry had immediately clamped down on the news, to "dispel panic," but word had still seeped out, in pubs and bookstores, from students and from little old witches from the mountains.
Harry...why don't we let Ron give Luna the Ravenclaw ring, Hermione put in, she looked up at Harry, she's a Ravenclaw, the ring's protections would work for her...since the Hat thought I should be one too, they probably would me as well, but I already have a ring.
Think he would take it, and don't we still need it to scry for the Staff again when we are ready?
Ron looked between them and rolled his eyes, he had long ago discerned what they were doing, but it was more exasperating than anything, as he waited for them to finish.
We can only ask, and if Luna has the ring, I'm sure she will let us borrow it; the scrying doesn't hurt it. And next time we try, I think we might want more than the two of us anyway. Hermione flicked her wand at the coffee table in front of Ron, and watched as a small, black box appeared, "Ron, we might have a solution for you."
"Blimey, Hermione," Ron muttered, "this is the Ravenclaw ring, I can't take this..."
"Yes, you can, Ron," Harry replied, "Hermione put it in a normal box so you can get it out...but more importantly, Luna's a Ravenclaw, this ring has a bit of magic itself, besides its being one of a kind, kinda like her, mate." He looked across at his friend, "Ron, this isn't charity, in a way, it's her heritage, and it might just save her while it's at it. Alright, mate?"
Ron sat back in his chair, and looked down at the open ring box, the door started to open and his hand shot out and swept the box into a pocket. Luna bounded into the room and grabbed onto Ron's arm as he stood. She threw her arms around his neck and sighed softly as Ron bent down to kiss her. "Ready to go, luv?" she asked breathlessly.
"Yeah," Ron muttered back, in a similar tone as Hermione fought back chuckles, "Hermione,
Harry...thanks, guys." Harry gave him a nod as the two of them vanished with a soft CRACK.
***********************London, Bank of the Thames********************
6:15 pm
A light snow was softly falling over the streets of the ancient city as Ginny stood at the window of the Savoy, and looked across the Thames at the lights of the Muggle traffic far below. She watched as the lights from Muggle Christmas decorations, glistened off the half-frozen waters far below this penthouse window. She sighed. "Tell me again...Draco. Tell me why your father has a permanent suite in a Muggle hotel," she commanded softly, as she splayed the fingers of her hand over the window glass.
"This is the thirteenth floor, Ginevra...this doesn't exist for Muggles," Draco replied as he sat up from the bed and looked over at her. "The Malfoys are not the only old family with suites here...The Zabinis have one two suites down, and the Blacks another. Dumbledore used to have one here as well," he shook his head, "Are you going to get ready then...I can still pick up, something, from Knockturn Alley, if you don't want to go...while I might have no issue with your current attire, there are those who will be there whose attitudes are older than his hotel."
Ginny turned from the window and dropped her robe, revealing a bra and knickers set that her mother would not have approved of. Not that that mattered any longer. She crossed the room and sat down cross-legged on the foot of the bed. "Go ahead," Ginny muttered, "find someone else to help you, I dare you." She grinned, darkly, "Chances are any slag you find in Knockturn would be an agent for the Order, or maybe for the Ministry." She looked around at the dark wood of the walls, at the tastefully decorated suite in the old English style and frowned, "Is this how you normally live?"
"A far sight from what you are used to, isn't it, Red?" Draco replied. He reached over and took a sip of an amber colored liquid from a tumbler set on a bedside table. "I could get another, I suppose. They certainly would be more...experienced," he added thoughtfully.
"Fuck you, Draco," Ginny snapped, jumped up and paced back to the window. She watched out the window, off towards the south bank of the Thames where she could see, tiny, brightly colored dots walking along the riverbank. Miniscule figures holding hands, or laughing along with the antics of even smaller figures at their sides meandered with not a care in the world, certainly not of what was going on at this very moment, in the shadows and alleys, and occasionally right in front of their eyes. "Just give me the potion, Draco," she said after a moment. Draco looked at her, nodded and tossed her a phial of a putrid, green liquid.
************************Grimmauld******************************
8:45pm
Harry looked up the stairs, again, and resumed pacing. He didn't bother to restrain himself from running his hands through his hair. He looked up once more, up the stairs towards his bedroom from which he had been forcefully evicted several hours ago. He sighed, pulled his robes straight and rubbed his hands in front of him for a moment.
Harry paused as he caught sight of himself in a hall mirror and sighed, shaking his head at the sight. He glanced down at the deep black, very subtly shimmering dress robes, and pulled them straight, again grimacing slightly at the emerald green shirt that Hermione had picked for him, and glanced down at his black dragonhide boots to make sure that he had not managed to mess up the shine that Dobby had insisted on applying to them over Harry's strenuous objections. He looked down at the tiny replica of the Hogwarts crest pinned to his chest, right below another small badge with an odd heraldic device, with a Phoenix and Eagle in flight over a seated lion, with the cross hilt of a sword peaking up from behind the Lion's head, the ancient coat of arms of Gryffindor.
I look like a bloody Malfoy, Harry groused as he rocked on his heals and started to amuse himself with making several of the chess pieces on the nearby set duel. He watched as the tiny, white queen, took two steps, executed a forward flip over the black king and sliced back and up with her miniscule sword. The king fell to the board in two pieces and Harry flicked his fingers, resetting the board.
He turned at a soft tread on the stairs, and his heart lurched slightly. No, Love, Hermione corrected him as she slowly walked down the stairs; You look like Baron Harry James Potter-Black, Lord Gryffindor, and the one of the richest wizards in Great Britain. Harry looked at her, and she smirked as his jaw worked for an instant.
God, Mione...you look...wow, Harry whispered, and she grinned, with her lip half in her teeth as she stepped off the stairs and into the soft glow of the firelight and candelabra above. Hermione had appeared in a night black, form-fitting dress, the exact same shade as his robes, with the same soft shimmer to the fabric. The dress was held up by two thin straps, and slit up one leg almost to her hip along her right leg, to move in. She crossed the room and stood in front of him, almost shyly as she absently played with one of the tendrils of her hair, which she had allowed to escape the neat twist, that the rest of it was piled in on the top of her head. A pair of low heels brought her eyes almost to the level of his as she stood on her toes to kiss his scar gently and stepped back a couple of inches. Her hands came up to straighten his glasses before she took both of his hands in hers.
Thank you, Harry, Hermione whispered; as he glanced down to see her hands clutching at his almost nervously.
You know, that makes you Lady Gryffindor, and Baroness Potter-Black right? Harry asked, and smiled slightly as she jumped at the thought, almost as if the entire idea were new to her. Though I seriously doubt that there will be anyone remotely comparable to you, no matter what your name is.
I'd be happy with Mrs. Potter, honestly, Hermione said after a minute, after she could form words again, after the sudden rush his last comment had caused. Merlin, I'm wound tight tonight, she punched Harry's shoulder lightly at his salacious grin.
Got your wand, Mione? Harry inquired as he spun her around gently, pulling her back to his chest and wrapping an arm protectively around her waist. She nodded, and they vanished.
**************************The Ministry of Magic**************************
8:55 pm
Deep within the large, mostly subterranean building housing the Wizarding government, there were many rooms. Rooms where judgments were passed, rooms where wizards studied the mysteries of the universe, and many, many rooms where bureaucrats did whatever, bureaucrats do. All of these rooms were unimportant tonight, for tonight; a celebration was going on, one with the express purpose of ignoring what was happening outside of these buried corridors.
A pair of Aurors in dress uniforms stood a on either side of a large, golden door, their hands resting on sheathed wands. They looked up automatically as Harry and Hermione approached and stopped. Harry saw a flicker of recognition from the one on the left as he stepped into a pool of light cast by a torch mounted on the wall. He nodded to the Aurors and glanced around as a tall, rather pale Wizard in a deep blue robe stepped from a hidden cul-de-sac. The man carried a small baton with topped with a glowing blue jewel and wore a heavy, gold pendent with a open and blinking eye on his chest, "Invitation," he snarled, and took the heavy parchment envelope Hermione handed him. He opened it, showed it to the eye and his attitude abruptly changed. "Sir," he said diffidently, with only a bare glance at Hermione. Harry's eyebrow slowly rose, "and ma'am," the major-domo quickly corrected himself, "Wait here, I will announce you."
"That's not--" Harry began, but fell silent as the man vanished back into his cubbyhole.
In the main room, the Ministry of Magic's ballroom, a room used only for events like this, receptions and award ceremonies, the room was about half full. Witches in dresses that some of them might wear once a year, if that, were dancing with a wizards in dress robes and uniforms, the deep, midnight blue of the Auror Corps most notably. A large crowd of male suitors, and a couple of women as well, were standing next to a blonde woman, with her back to the door. Her pale, almost white hair glinted in the light of innumerable candles floating high over the ballroom floor, as she responded to something that a tall, but yet stocky man said with an accented laugh.
The deep blue walls and highly polished, dark wood floors were seemingly odd this far within this warren of stone but also oddly fitting as a tall red-haired man with his long hair pulled back into a neat tail bound by a pair of silver rings pushed his way through the crowd to stand at her side, to accompaniment of muttered growls of displeasure. The crowd groaned softly as the blonde witch turned to the newcomer, stood on her toes and kissed him thoroughly. Her admirers wandered off, as Bill laughed. "You did that on purpose, luv," he accused softly.
"I waz...bored," Fleur admitted as she grinned up at him, her eyes twinkling slightly. She mouthed, "thanks," as Bill handed her a goblet of pumpkin juice that he had retrieved for her, and he took a sip of his own whiskey. "I would, honezteztly, rather be az zome."
"As would I, dear," Bill admitted, "but when Greyfang said that we should go to represent Gringotts--" she nodded and placed her hand on her still-flat stomach for a moment as they both looked around the room. Bill glanced down at his watch and frowned slightly as he noticed Arthur talking to a several darkly robed members of the Wizengamot, looking for support for his new Dark Arts Artifact Usage Act. There was an odd, especially considering the times, resistance to its passage. Molly stood next to him, smiling softly as Arthur presented his case and Bill sighed softly. He looked over to see Scrimgeour looking down at his watch as well, before summoning his aide to his side and muttering something forcefully in his ear.
"If Ron and Luna were right, they should be here any moment," Bill whispered, and Fleur nodded knowingly. There was a subtle tension between them. They looked up just as the doors opened once more, and a blue robed man stepped out onto a slightly raised landing with stairs that led down into the main room.
He took a breath, "HARRY JAMES POTTER, BARON POTTER-BLACK AND MISS HERMIONE JANE GRANGER." The doors opened silently behind him, and the named pair stepped into the room.
All new mutterings erupted as the "Chosen One" stepped into the room accompanied by his "date". Several young women looked at his companion balefully as they eyed the one who had just been named, again, one of Witch Weekly's "most eligible bachelors." A tall redhead in a rather revealing dress and a blonde similarly dressed, started to approach, but stopped at a raised eyebrow from Hermione. She took Harry's arm as they started down the stairs, knowing without looking that they were this moment's objects for stares. Bill glanced over at Molly, who was glaring at Hermione and Harry, turning away from them at Arthur's hand on her shoulder. Bill grabbed Fleur's hand and pulled slightly in the direction of Harry and Hermione, and got a small nod from her in response.
Behind them, Scrimgeour looked at Harry with a small, tight smile. He turned back to the young couple he was talking to, Andrew Gates and his wife Anastasia. Anastasia smiled up at him, and tucked a lock of jet behind her right ear; her eyes flickered as she watched the Minister take a sip of his cocktail, and shared a glance with her husband. "I was not aware that the...'Chosen One' was here this evening," she commented with a small smile. She lazily looked over near the door where Bill and Fleur were nearing Harry and Hermione, her eyes visibly scanned up and down the Hogwarts' Head Girl, "Who is that...girl on his arm," she asked sweetly.
Scrimgeour shrugged and took another sip of his drink, "I suppose that is that Muggle-born that the Prophet caught him with the other day...the Potters are an old family, but they have always had an issue with proper - etiquette."
"Yes, they have," Andrew agreed and squeezed his wife's hand as a slow song began and the hubbub from Harry and Hermione's arrival started to wane. "Come my love, I would like to dance, if you would excuse us, Minister." Scrimgeour nodded and watched as the pair drifted towards the dance floor before leaving, heading vaguely in the direction of the newest arrivals. Andrew pulled his wife much closer than the majority of the older couples on the dance floor, and rested his still, slightly pointed chin on the top of her head, reaching up to brush a lock of dark brown hair out of his eyes before he rested his joined hands on the slope of her bum. "Merlin, Red," he whispered harshly, "can you keep your sodding claws in for one moment? Do you want them to figure out who we are?"
"Sorry," she hissed, glancing up at Draco before looking back over at Harry and Hermione. Her gaze cut to Molly, glaring at Hermione, and she felt her stomach lurch for just an instant, before she looked away with a will. So the little girl isn't welcome any more, she started it, a darkly familiar voice whispered in the back of her thoughts. Not really, I told her I was over him...It doesn't matter, she said she was your sister, remember she said that she was your friend, friends, sisters don't do that to each other...But she's been with him as long as I have known them...So, if she had really cared she should have said something earlier, made him take her to the Yule Ball maybe...But, she... Ginny swallowed heavily, and glanced back up at Draco, "We've done what we need to do right?"
Draco glanced down, frowned, "Yes, but we can't leave yet. It would be...unseemly." He spun her slowly to the music, "Enjoy yourself, Weaselette, it's not every day your family gets invited to these things." Ginny sighed and didn't bother to mention that four members of her family were within easy reach of a raised voice.
"I see that you've found the place," Bill said wryly as he and Fleur appeared at Harry's side.
"Been here before," Harry shot back softly, and Bill nodded. "You know why we are here, any suggestions?"
Bill glanced up at the starry ceiling for a moment, "Yeah, a few, Attikus there," he gestured with his head towards a tall, dark wizard with a almost orange beard and a shaved head in deep purple robes, "he already has had several public quibbles with Rufus over his handling of the war. You already know Marchbanks of course; she has gained surprising amounts of influence since the whole Inquisitor affair. You already have the support of the Goblins, such as it is, they won't fight for the other side, and they won't help the Ministry against you, but..." Bill looked over a Fleur for a moment, "Otherwise, you just being here is a kick in Voldemort's teeth, mingle."
Harry felt Hermione's pulse jump for an instant, "You aren't thinking he would attack here tonight, are you, Bill," she murmured urgently, looking around the room surreptitiously.
"No," he took a breath as a brief flicker of pain crossed his face, and just for an instant, through a trick of the light, his pale scars shown distinctly on his cheek, "no," he continued in a normal tone, "ever since you two held him to a standstill, he's not shown his own face anywhere, and the Ministry is too well defended tonight for him to send in his forces by themselves...probably anyway." He looked up from them, glanced over Harry's shoulder, "Bloody Hell."
"Harry," a cold, familiar voice said from behind them. "Ron didn't tell me that you were going to be here," Molly added, sparing only a soft glower for Hermione. "Have you any word on Ginny?" she added hopefully, though with another unsubtle glare at the brunette.
Harry sighed, and waved Bill back as he started to say something. Jade eyes held Molly's blue ones as Harry reached out and intertwined Hermione's fingers with his own, "No, Molly, we have not. And to be frank, putting aside Hermione's and my shared desire for her to come home," Harry hurriedly looked around and found no one untoward near, "We have other Kneazles to skin as the saying goes. If and when she gets tired of running, we will welcome her home with open arms, but she chose her path, she chose to do what she did, and to be perfectly honest, she is lucky in how easily she got off with the consequences of her actions." Harry gave Arthur a shallow nod as the older man approached and walked away.
Hermione could feel his hand trembling slightly in hers as he took a flute of champagne from a floating tray as it passed, handed it to Hermione and took one for himself. Hermione watched worriedly as Harry took a sip of his drink, You didn't have to do that, Harry, she whispered, and kissed his cheek, but thanks. I'll go work on Marchbanks, you can have Atticus.
But before either of them could move, "Harry, I'm so glad you could make it. I was so happy to extend the invitation for you and your lovely companion, I don't think we have been formally introduced..." Rufus Scrimgeour smiled at Hermione.
"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied and extended her hand, Scrimgeour took it in his, but instead of shaking it, raised it to his lips in the continental fashion.
"Aw, yes...currently Head Girl at Hogwarts I believe," he said, smiling. He let her hand drop and took a step back, "I have heard only good things from Delores about you," he looked to Harry, totally missing the briefest flicker of amusement that Hermione felt cross her eyes. "Harry," he went on, his voice soft, "have you thought any more thought to what we discussed in June? There are advantages to working with the Ministry, Harry, we have resources, respect...Dumbledore is gone, Harry, you showed great wisdom in not trying to search out his killer on some mad quest, but returned to school to finish."
"As you say, Minister," Harry agreed with a nod. "The Ministry does have vast resources, I will admit, however I am sure that you will realize that my dealings with the, shall we say, highest of officials has not always been completely cordial."
"Yes, yes, Harry, I will admit that there have been...difficulties between yourself and the former Minister, but you must concede that the Ministry is really the only hope for stopping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named now that Albus is gone. I am sure that whatever...misunderstandings that you may have had with the Ministry in the past were just that, misunderstandings, which of course can be rectified..."
Harry's face took on a contemplative expression, "I will consider your words, Minister." Scrimgeour gave Harry a large smile, nodded to Hermione and walked away, heading towards Archibald Devenwand, a large contributor to the Ministry for years. I don't care Hermione, Harry shot over to her, his thoughts full of venom towards the Minster of Magic, what do we need that arsehole for, he insults Dumbledore, you, and he's too damn afraid of a fucking name to say it.
Don't be too hard on him, love, Hermione retorted sarcastically, he probably thought he was giving me a compliment. After all, I'm just a Muggle-born...Merlin knows that's the pinnacle of my life... Hermione glanced towards the dance floor as the small string quartet started up once more from their break. The four instruments were hovering in mid-air over a small stage, where three wizards and a tiny witch were directing them with their wands. Dance with me?
Why not, Harry replied and let her lead him to the large cleared area near the stage, bordered with seven large fir trees, each decorated with thousands of tiny Fairy lights and dusted with magical snow, each softly pulsing in various colors according to the gender and age of the Fairy. Hermione smiled at him, before leaning her head against his chest as she looked around the room, idly, watching the various couples, most of whom were much older than they stumbling through the steps. One ancient couple, though, was executing a perfect waltz, which was odd as this wasn't a waltz. Harry grinned, glanced down to notice that Hermione's earrings, the same as she had worn at Bill's wedding, were catching the light, and deciding that that wasn't enough for the season, muttered a spell to cause them to glow in time with the trees.
Hermione rolled her eyes, At least I won't loose them now... her 'voice' died away as they spun and she caught sight of something in a young woman's eyes where she was dancing with a brown-haired wizard. Both of them were young, seemingly not much older than Harry or Hermione, and dressed, very, very well. Hermione frowned, thinking, Harry? he nodded, Do you know those two over there...they should have been at Hogwarts in the last few years, they seem familiar somehow.
Harry shrugged as he followed her mental pointer, No, in what way?
The girl, she reminds me of someone...not how she looks...just... Hermione paused and watched as the couple kissed, broke apart slowly. The woman looked up and bright blue eyes under straight black locks caught Hermione's and a small smirk erupted on the stranger's lips. She looked up and exchanged a soft word with her companion. He glanced over, touched his fingers to his forehead in a jaunty salute and led the woman off the dance floor. That was odd, Hermione commented absently as she watched them leave, as an odd, half-remembered memory tried to surface, one that if she was correct, she had repressed for some reason or another.
Draco led Ginny to the door, and after stopping to exchange his regrets with the Major-Domo, led Ginny to an alcove near the Apparation spot, "What the hell was that, Red," he hissed, pulling her close, "glaring at Granger, they could have recognized us."
"What about you, O' font of imperturbability," Ginny hissed loudly, drawing the attention of a pair of elderly witches in shawls as they passed by. She glared at them until they looked away, and lowered her voice, "What was that with Harry...taunting him," Draco shrugged and she sighed, "we've done our evil deed for the night right?" Draco frowned, but nodded, "let's leave then." Draco slid his arms around her and they vanished with a soft POP.
Back in the main ballroom, Harry had meandered over to Attikus, and was busy being regaled with the elder wizard's tales of glory during the first Voldemort war. Harry nodded as the man compared him to his father, nodding where appropriate and watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye talking softly to Griselda Marchbanks. Hermione laughed at something the ancient witch said, and Harry smiled slightly, not really paying attention to his conversation, which was reasonably obvious. "Harry...I say, Harry," Attikus said concernedly.
"Oh," Harry said, snapping his attention back to the person he was talking with, one he had been recommended to by Bill, rapidly finding out that the older Wizard had a great deal to say, and ignoring Hermione's soft laughter in his head, Be quiet you, he sent across the room. "Sorry, sir, late night last night," Harry replied sheepishly.
"Oh, for the joys of youth..." Octavias Attikus replied, smiling, he looked over to see Hermione now chatting up a storm with three other bystanders, another elderly Wizard that Harry vaguely remembered from the OWL examinations and a younger couple, with the wizard in an Auror dress uniform with a Lieutenant's insignia. From the byplay in her thoughts, Harry could tell that she was working in her spiel for creatures equal rights while she was at it. "She's a lovely one, lad," he said, looking at Harry, "Touch of fire in her as well, I reckon."
"Yeah," Harry replied unthinkingly, "you could say that."
"She reminds me of your mother," Attikus added, and Harry's attention snapped to him, he nodded, "you didn't think that she only talked to old reprobates like Slughorn, did you lad...no, when she got her teeth into something, Merlin himself wouldn't keep her from it." Attikus sighed, "Listen, Harry, I would like to help, but I can't, not like I could the first time around, and putting aside an old man's foolish tales of glory, I know what it's like out there and will be if you don't win."
The older wizard looked around, and motioned Harry closer, no one could really over hear them over the noise of the orchestra and the chattering of the guests, but still, Harry only approved as he noticed the older wizard easing a wand out of his pocket and flicking it to establish a quick Cone of Silence, "I can not help directly as I said, Harry, I do not control the fighters, and since I retired, I don't have any real influence with the Aurors or MLE...but I do have a bit of...room to persuade certain records to be released to you or a designate. Some of them may give you details, facts and theories on suspected Death Eaters that were never released to the public." He looked darkly at Scrimgeour, "Some of which are in this room as we speak, there were many more who were, and are suspected than were ever brought to trial. It will take time however to get them. I shall get them to whom, Alastor Moody perhaps?" he asked with a small smile and a nod, "There were reasons that I was never a member of Dumbledore's Order lad, that had nothing to do with the goals of the organization, more of a disagreement with his inclusion of certain, members."
Harry found he could not speak for a moment, "Thank you, sir."
"No, Harry...thank you, if the rumors are true, then you will need all the help you can get. And I don't trust the current Minister as far as I could throw him. Cornelius was incompetent and corrupt, but at least he could be worked around...this new one, he is a different kettle of flobberworms," he held out his hand and Harry took it, "Good luck Harry." The wizard left, leaving Harry staring after him.
Harry started as a loud, chiming clock struck midnight. He looked down at his watch, then back up as Hermione approached at his shoulder. Let's go home, Mione.
Alright, let's head to Padfoot's.
Harry smirked slightly, shook his head and led her from the room, passing Bill and Fleur, and stopping long enough to share Christmas wishes with them, as they probably would not be seeing them until after the holidays due to a certain, fire-haired matron glaring at them from over in the corner.
Harry wrapped his arms around her again, stepped into the Apparation spot, No, Love, I meant, let's go home, and vanished.
************************Godric's Hollow*****************************
December 23, 1997
8:00 am.
"Roger," Jane Granger asked as she looked through a large box of belongings that she had just pulled out and was looking through. "Do you know where those decorations that Remus brought by are at?" Roger shrugged as he came in from the kitchen, toting a large mug of coffee that Jane looked at longingly. "You just have to parade that in front of me, don't you?" Roger waggled his eyebrows and laughed.
"I think they're up in the kids' room," he replied, still laughing at his wife's predicament. Jane started up the stairs, and paused half way up, her hand on her slightly swollen belly.
She smirked down at him, "I seem to remember this being at least half your fault, Honey," she replied in a sickly-sweet voice, "and right now, you really don't want to be on my bad side." Roger rolled his eyes as she turned on her heel and continued upstairs. Jane passed her and Roger's room, the guest room, and opened the door quietly. She crossed the room, opened a closet door, and dug around on the bottom of the closet amongst several bags of clothes that Harry and Hermione kept here, just in case, before she found a box labeled "Christmas Decorations," that Remus had been able to retrieve from the ruins of their house. Fortunately the Granger's house while destroyed, had not caught fire even though the center had collapsed. Remus and Tonks had been able to salvage much of their clothes and other personal items, and amazingly enough, this box of decorations had survived the fight unscathed under the stairs.
She pulled it out of the closet, turned...and almost dropped the precious box as her jaw dropped to find Harry and Hermione curled up under the blankets asleep. Or at least she assumed it was them as the only thing she could really discern was two incredibly disheveled mops of hair, one blacker than night, and the other one chestnut, fanned out over one pillow, along with one leg garbed in red flannel with the letters, "dor" visible and a small foot with red-painted nails on the end. She covered her mouth with one hand while wishing for a camera and quietly escaped, but not unnoticed.
Your mother was just in our closet, Harry muttered and snuggled closer to Hermione.
It's alright, Harry, all my naughty knickers are in my dresser.
I was worried about mine, Harry shot back and Hermione giggled, wanna get up?
No, it's Sunday, I think I'll be lazy. You know this bed sleeps rather nicely, Hermione commented contently snuggling back into Harry. Several minutes passed quietly before...Can't go back to sleep.
Yeah, Harry agreed, and threw back the covers annoyedly. He sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Hermione stood and stretched, before kneeling down next to Harry to kiss him, before rocking back on her heels and to her feet in one move. She walked to the door, started to open it, and stopped as she noticed that Harry wasn't moving.
"What's wrong?"
"I feel rather safe here. I think I'll just stay," Harry replied with a rather nervous glance at the door. Hermione crooked an eyebrow, inviting explanation. "Your dad's scary, Mione," Harry explained softly, frowning at her from across the room.
Hermione rolled her eyes, walked back over to the bed and sat down next to him. "Harry, love, Mum and Dad like you," she took a breath, "no, they actually probably love you," she half turned and began to pick through his hair, moving errant locks from side to side, with really no true effect, "You asked them already and they gave your their blessing right?" Harry nodded. "Honestly, what's the matter then, if we tell them that we're already married, baby."
"Your dad will know that, I'm, we're..."
"Shagging like bunnies," Hermione supplied, and Harry nodded fitfully, "Harry, Mum figured that out this summer, I'm sure that Dad knows, they tell each other everything after all." Harry looked suddenly ashen at the thought. Hermione flowed back to her feet, and pulled Harry with her, "Come on, hero, I'll protect you."
Harry dutifully followed Hermione out of the bedroom, down the stairs and into the kitchen. The door had barely opened before Hermione jumped into her father's arms, and then after a few, brief muttered words of greeting stepped over to greet her mother. Hermione froze suddenly as she molded to her mother, stepped back, and a soft gasp escaped her throat. "Merlin, Mum," she said wondrously, "when..."
"About when you graduate, honey...hopefully by then this will all be over and we can be out of your hair," Jane said softly and stepped away from Hermione and held out her arms to Harry, "Well come here," she said with a grin and laughed slightly as Harry gingerly returned her hug, having already received the explanation from Hermione. "Honestly, Harry, I'm not going to break, I made it through working on my feet for nine months carrying your girlfriend. I think I can handle a hug," she laughed.
Hermione took Harry's hand again and stepped back, leading them both to the coffee maker and pouring each of them a mug. Jane's gaze flicked to Roger's and shrugged, they could tell a delaying tactic when they saw it. Hermione took a sip of her coffee, squeezed Harry's hand and set the mug down on the counter. "Well, Mum, you see," she said slowly, "Mum, Dad, I'm not exactly Harry's girlfriend." Jane frowned slightly. "You see..."
"Roger, Jane, we're married," Harry finished for her, nervously. He felt Hermione's fingers start to crush his own, as chocolate eyes gazed into emerald ones worriedly. The owl door to the kitchen flapped open, breaking the silence as Hedwig appeared, and settled in on the table to look up at her humans.
Roger and Jane looked at each other once more, and broke down laughing uproariously, with Hedwig seeming to join in a moment later.
'************************************************************
10:20 am
Remus Lupin had planned the Potters' secret hideaway extremely well, taking into account the exact personalities and talents of the new masters of the house, ones that, in the end, were not terribly different from those of the previous owners after all.
The upper two floors, the ones that showed above ground, were outfitted as much for a Muggle as they were for a Wizard. The bedrooms, three of them, plus a small nursery were clustered around a central hall, with the nursery adjacent to the Master bedroom, where Harry and Hermione had crashed last night, for the first time in their bed, at what they hoped would be their true home. The second and third bedrooms, the third added in the rebuilding that Remus had supervised, were almost as large as the master, each with a large, simple, comfortable bed and solid, English Oak furniture. Not flashy, but functional. The master was the same, with the only difference being that the bed was a smidgen larger, with a comfortable crimson and gold comforter, and that several framed photos, of friends and family, both Wizarding and Muggle, were scattered about the room.
There was a large bay window overlooking the half-court pitch, with a large, padded window seat suitable for two people if they were close, to cuddle up and read or watch the weather. Next to the window, a tall golden perch with branches at various heights stood with small bowls of water and treats floating in the air nearby. Over near the bed, a single red and gold enchanted lava lamp, that Luna had gotten them as a wedding present, moved slowly on the bedside table, casting odd shadows on the head of the bed and the open pages of a book that Hermione or Harry must have abandoned. Roger shook his head as he looked into the room after a quick knock, just in case, and laughed to himself softly. He had absolutely no idea, how someone like his daughter, who was probably borderline obsessive compulsive with her books and studies, was so...untidy when she was at home with everything else.
Harry, I could understand, he mused as he pushed aside a pile of clothes that one of the two had probably dumped out of a bag to find something, He's just lashing out at his upbringing...Hermione told me about that place, how he was the one who kept it perfect, so it makes sense that he'd be messy. But Hermione, I don't know, she didn't used to be this way...maybe it's because they are both so high strung these days. He shrugged again and left the room, for now giving up the search for the photo album that Harry had told him was up there; the one that had pictures of them in school along with Harry's parents, Sirius, and the others; Jane had wanted to see it.
He came down the stairs, walked into the living room, and smiled as he found Jane asleep on the couch, her hands cradled protectively over her belly. For all their teasing of the kids this morning after Harry and Hermione's admission, their night had not been restful either. Roger pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and pulled it to her chin. He bent down, kissed her hair and left silently on cat feet, with knees that were as good as when he was twenty, courtesy of Poppy Pomfrey. The skills and habits of his youth had come back automatically, brought forth by the events of this summer, but even so, when he had been 'working for a living' as an old American friend from those days had called it, he never moved as quietly as his daughter or son-in-law now did. They seemed to move as ghosts, with eyes that took in everything as they came into a room, cataloging it for threats or opportunities, he knew the look; he had worn it once.
He glanced into the large den cum library that Lupin had renovated and looked about. Only Crookshanks was home as Roger glanced around the room; that Lupin had told him was almost unchanged since James and Lily had had it as their study. Roger walked around a large cherry desk to stand, looking down at several framed photographs that were taking up places of honor in the bookshelf behind the desk, which as they were replacing precious space that could be used for books, he knew instantly that they were important to both Harry and Hermione.
The first, a Wizarding photo framed in a carved wooden frame with inlayed lion rosettes on each corner, showed a much younger, Harry, Hermione and Ron. In the photograph, the three of them, maybe eleven or in Hermione's case, twelve, were piled in a large clump on the stairs of Hogwarts. He watched as his tiny daughter leaned on Harry, and reached over and pulled Ron into her side as well. He watched as Hedwig swooped through the shot, to land on Hermione's shoulder, the owl looking absolutely huge on her tiny body.
He glanced at the next picture, one that Hermione had given a copy to her parents this morning, in it, Harry and Hermione were sitting, curled up together on a large rock, his hand was around her waist pulling her in close and once more Hedwig had joined the shot. A single, impossible tentacle was visible sticking up and waving from the placid waters behind them. Hermione had told them that this picture had been taken on the day of their wedding though the photographer had had no idea of its true significance. All in all, Roger found that he rather liked it much better than a normal, posed wedding picture, for it showed one thing truly well, it showed that they were happy, a task that a million poses might not show, but a snapshot let shine through.
Next to that one, a pair of black-framed Wizarding pictures sat; and Roger closed his eyes for a heartbeat as his thoughts reached out to his wife and unborn daughter, another witch like Hermione; as he knew that he and Jane had come close to having their photograph join these two by the slenderest of margins. The first was of two black-haired men, and one auburn-haired, green-eyed woman. She was in a white wedding gown, with her hair piled up on the back of her head, while both men seemed to be in black robes. Her tiny green eyes twinkled as she reached out and playfully swiped at the taller of the two men with her, all the while still resting in the arms of the other, a man with incredibly messy black hair and black, wire-framed glasses decorating laughing hazel eyes. The three of them were laughing in the picture.
The other picture was newer, but of a much older person. Roger had only met Albus Dumbledore in person once, when the old wizard had appeared secretly, to talk to him and Jane to relate what had happened at the Ministry of Magic on a fateful June night. This picture showed him in full cry, standing in front of the student body in the Great Hall, a flaming Goblet was sitting on a pedestal in front of his raised dais, and he was smiling down over it, even at the tiny scale of the photo one could tell his eyes were twinkling.
Roger left the room and paced back into the living room to find Jane still asleep on the couch, she had rolled over and lost the blanket, so he replaced it before turning the lights off and pacing back to the stairs where he opened a door and headed down.
Down the stairs was the real secret of Godric's Hollow. The current, relatively small cottage that occupied the space was a replacement for a much larger manor house that had once stood on these grounds. Below the house was a series of caverns that extended into the limestone and back up the hollow towards a large structure that was not there. Exactly why Lily and James had not retreated into the more defensible lower levels of the house that long-ago Halloween was unknown, perhaps they somehow knew that it would have been pointless, perhaps some other reason, but they had not.
Roger stepped from the stairs into a brightly lit cavern and paused, looking around. In the large space below the house, Remus, or someone, had crammed in almost every thing that one might need to fight a war in the magical world. The large cavern was divided into quadrants, according to specialty. In one, a large Potions lab at least as good as any at Hogwarts was set up with special enclosed hoods to contain the fumes of any reaction along with a large worktable. Racks of labeled ingredients with names like salt, flobberworm extract and powdered Dragon claw filled one wall, with a tall glass cabinet holding acres and acres of pristine glassware. Hanging over the top of the worktable were several caldrons of various sizes including one in bronze and one that he thought might be platinum, which if it were the case, could have bought the Grangers' old house and most of their neighborhood besides, easily.
In another corner, several Muggle exercise machines sat incongruously, centered around a large mat. Near the machines, near a large wooden door that he knew led to a hidden tunnel that slanted upwards and out to come out near a road in the hills, an old, black Harley motorbike rested, ready to ride. Roger walked to it for an instant, and ran his hand over the leather seat before moving on. He passed several doors set in the walls that led to additional sleeping quarters, and stopped as he came to the final area of the cavern. He sighed softly as he watched his daughter, the little girl that had cried in his arms when she skinned her knee take a spinning kick on her crossed arms hard enough to drive her back several paces. Roger leaned against the wall and waited quietly.
Hermione spun left and snapped a jab at Harry, flicking backwards to dodge his return. "Come on, Harrrryyyyy," she chided, "afraid to hit a girl? She bounded once and snapped a kick at his head, which he blocked, and snapped a sweep at his feet, causing him to jump in the air, and to be knocked backwards with a wave of her hand. He landed flat on his back, and looked up at her, blinking, for an instant.
Harry scissor-kicked his way to his feet, rolled his head on his neck and laughed, "So that's how you want it, Mione?"
She waggled her eyebrows in return, "I have to get my frustrations out somehow...and since you married me, you can't get away." She started to circle to her left, and watched as Harry followed suit. Harry MOVED, his movements only a blur to Roger as he continued to watch silently. Harry's leg scythed through the air where Hermione's head had been a millisecond before, she snapped a punch at his stomach, glancing off his side as he danced to the side.
"I'm beginning to think you don't like me," Harry groused as he rubbed his side for an instant before slipping to the side and firing off a combo, high, low and a third kick that hit Hermione in her previously injured thigh. Roger could see the sudden pain in Harry's eyes as it landed, but Harry never stopped, launching another kick to her midsection. Hermione's hand flitted out, caught his ankle and twisted, sending him tumbling.
"Why would you think that, love," Hermione smiled slightly as she flickered into movement, bounding backwards. She snapped her wrist and caught her wand as it fell into her hand. "I love you more than life itself," she bit her lip for an instant, before a smirk replaced her sudden frown, "but I'm afraid that I'm going to have to kick your arse anyway."
"My, Mrs. Potter, such foreplay, from such an...innocent girl" Harry retorted, grinning, Hermione laughed, until her eyes cut right and saw her father leaning against the stone wall. Her face flushed bright pink, and Harry closed his eyes; Your dad is right behind me, isn't he?
That would be correct, Hermione muttered.
"Don't mind me," Roger said with only a hint of fatherly concern at the conversation, "just keep on with what you were doing." The distant sound of dripping water could be heard coming from a ways up an open tunnel that Roger had never explored, as he looked between his daughter and son-in-law. "I won't be in the way."
"Um...dad," Hermione said after she had recovered her voice, forcing down the blush that was still fighting its way to the surface. "It's not exactly safe for you there," she shrugged, "Harry and I tend to destroy things if we really play," She frowned for a moment, "though... Harry, love, Protego Enclosium Translucentium?"
"You're brilliant, Mione," Harry replied with a smile, and turned to Roger, "Don't move," PROTEGO ENCLOSIUM TRANSLUCENTIUM, a bright rainbow-colored wall appeared between Roger and them, the colors cycled through the rainbow, before disappearing entirely to leave a transparent, glass-like wall. Hermione sketched her wand through the air and a comfortable recliner appeared.
Roger laughed and sat down, "You know, Poppet, I need a snack if we are to do this properly." Hermione rolled her eyes, but flicked her wand anyway. A small table appeared next to the recliner with a soft pop, a sweating bottle of butterbeer and a large tub of popcorn was sitting on it. He watched as both of their faces changed subtly, eyes hardening. Roger felt an odd tingling at the back of this throat, and felt the short hairs at the nape of his neck rise.
A rush of power lit two pairs of eyes, Hermione and Harry's wands snapped up at the same instant and twin, searing red bolts shout out from their wands and hit each other head on, a fireball erupted where they intercepted, blinding everyone in the cavern for an instant. Hermione's vision cleared first, Asslantium, a bright white spiral shot towards Harry, he ducked and rolled under it, a silver bolt snapped back, which Hermione reflected off into the ceiling. Behind where Harry had been, the rock was frozen.
Harry rolled to his feet, flicked his wand at the sides of the room and watched as Hermione flipped forward, away from the twin torso-sized rocks that slammed together where she had been, he snapped a stunner at her in mid-air only to have it caught in a shimmering net and shot back at him as her feet touched the ground. She slashed her wand at his feet and green growths shot up from the ground at an incredible rate, only to fall limp as he severed them with a silver beam.
Harry's wand snapped up then back, a large Lion appeared as a loose rock was transfigured. It took two running leaps towards Hermione, she rolled to the side as it landed where she had been, and jabbed her wand at it as it bounced again. The lion shrunk as it flew towards her, landing at her feet as a small cub. It rubbed up against her, purring for a moment before she banished it. Is that all you have?
Not really, Harry retorted, spun and vanished. Hermione grinned and vanished. She reappeared where he had been, just in time to catch a stunner on her hasty Protego. She vanished again, to reappear behind Harry. Her fingers flicked and braided steel cables surrounded Harry, pinning his arms to his side. He rolled his eyes as she stood and blew a kiss at him.
They fell to the ground as he vanished from within them, reappearing next to her, Rictusempra; Hermione
erupted in giggles, as Harry paced over to her.
She held her hand to her side as she continued to giggle uproariously, while with the other, she poked her wand in his general direction and sent a quick thought. Harry's shoelaces tied themselves together and he fell forward onto his face. Roger laughed in his observation spot, before Harry sat up and flicked his wand twice, untying his shoes from each other and canceling the spell on Hermione. She moved over and dropped next to him, before canceling the protective barrier.
Hermione leaned against Harry, a light sheen of sweet on her brow as she watched Roger get up from his chair, his drink in hand. She smiled as her father sat down on the ground across from them with nary a complaint. She still remembered when she was younger the problems her father had had with his knees, with some injury he still refused to talk about, but now with Poppy's help he moved like he was closer to twenty then just on the high side of forty. "Is this how you normally fight?" he inquired.
"Honestly, Dad, we were holding back, a lot, until the end, when we were just screwing around," Hermione replied with a small shrug. She frowned at Harry, before responding softly, "It's very...difficult for us to go full out against each other, besides our feelings for each other, we have to keep our link dampened or it's not even a duel, more like a proper game of tic-tac-toe...it's a stalemate."
"Also," Harry picked up the thread, "if we had been going at it like we would have to when I...we face Voldemort," Harry added as she squeezed his hand, "you'd never have seen us, 'cept as brief flickers." Harry's face went slightly blank as his mind went back, to memories of the Ministry and his duels with Voldemort at Little Hangleton and in Romania. "It changes a bit at a place like Hogwarts...though Mione and I can still Apparate there, even though we're not supposed to be able to," he added slightly sheepishly, and glanced down at Hermione, "as Hermione told me at least once a month during my formative years."
Roger looked to them, "What unarmed form were you using there, before you started with the magic, it seemed familiar...and don't Wizards need wands to do magic?"
"Probably because it was familiar, dad," Hermione replied, "we were trained by Aurors, technically, we are qualified as Aurors, even though Scrimgeour doesn't know that, they have the same trainers as you used to, in that." Roger looked at her thoughtfully, "Yes, Dad, I figured it out a long time ago," she confirmed, "I was just letting you not talk about it." She frowned as she pointedly lifted her hand without her wand in it, and floated his now empty bottle back to the table, "As to the other, well, normally that's the case."
"I beat several of them that night by taking their wands," Roger confirmed softly looking to each of them in turn, "but if they could use magic without them..."
"No, Ro...Dad," Harry replied with a small, tight smile as he felt the memories of that night running though Hermione's thoughts. He pulled her closer, kissing the side of her head before continuing, "Most of them can't...in fact, deprived of a wand; the average Wizard is pretty helpless."
"But not you two?"
"We're...less capable," Hermione explained, vaguely. "Actually any wizard, even Merlin himself, uses or used a wand, or in his case a staff rather, because it's easier to do complicated things. Over the years though, it's become so that almost no one can really do controlled wandless magic, except people like Dumbledore."
"You talk about him like he's still alive, Hermione," Roger replied sadly, having been rather impressed with the elder wizard in the few times that they had met him.
"We wish he was, more than you could imagine," Harry replied almost silently. Hermione nodded in agreement, and squeezed his hand tightly.
******************************Soho********************************
6:20 pm
A soft crack cut across the sound of This is the Night by the Weird Sisters playing softly across the Wizarding Wireless, and Tonks looked up, the tip of her wand tracking towards the sound before she dropped it on the kitchen table with a slight shrug. "About bloody time, Wolfie," Tonks growled, annoyedly as she returned to tossing a salad with a pair of large tongs.
"I hope that's not all we're having," Remus grumbled as he took a seat at the table, and summoned a Butterbeer from the icebox. He rolled his eyes as Tonks threw a roll at his head; he fielded it and took a bite.
Tonks muttered something uncomplimentary about dogs and their eating habits and held up a very rare steak on a fork before dropping it on a plate and placing the plate in front of him. All of Tonks' crockware had long since had Unbreakable Charms put on them. "Happy dear?" she asked with a small smile.
"Ecstatic," Lupin replied dryly, and shared a kiss as she passed with her plate. Tonks' smiled at him across the table, and paused, her smile falling as she cut into her meat, which was rather more done than Remus'.
"How bad is it, Remus?" she asked softly, her dark eyes dropping from his to look at the table.
"They took him in about an hour after Harry and Hermione left the party...They've had him in the Intensive Care section ever since."
"Is he going to make it?"
Lupin shrugged slightly, "Who knows, Mad-Eye was able to talk to some old cronies in the protective detail, they've had Scrimgeour on the table twice already since last night. Drained his blood at least once and rebuilt it with Blood Replenishing Potions." His eyes took on an odd look, "The forensic section has already gotten a sample of whatever they dosed him with. Looks like it was in his drink, something in it broke some of the poison down, so he only got a partial dose. The Ministry Potion Masters have never seen anything like it...but we have."
"We have?" Tonks muttered confusedly.
"Harry has anyway, if what he told me about that night Dumbledore died was true," Remus cut his steak violently, looking down at the blood filling his plate, "I don't want to be the one to tell him about this one, he'll take it hard, and he couldn't have done a thing. The experts say that he was dosed a half hour before they even got there."
"Are you going to tell him?"
"No," Lupin shrugged, "I'm going to let him have a Christmas, such as he can...there's not anything they can do anyway."
There ya go, next Chapter(s)...Christmas.