Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: Harry Potter and the Unbreakable Link (8/20)

Author: Silvestria

E-mail: [email protected]

Category: Mystery

Keywords: Hermione Estella Harry Voldemort Aphrados

Rating: PG

Spoilers: All books

Summary: Harry loses his invisibilty cloak in a mysterious manner before his seventh year starts. Dumbledore has a past, Hermione has a dangerous secret and Voldemort is looking for someone (not Harry). Slight H/H. Rated PG. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter 8- Christmas!

What Estella had read in La Nuova Strega was in fact correct. Cornelius Fudge had resigned and Marisa Goldfinger was now Minister of Magic. However she claimed in an interview on the Christmas Day supplement, that she was only in position temporarily, and that she really did not want to be Minister permanently. The article ran as follows,

By Special Correspondent, Valerie Confident

This morning Miss Marisa Goldfinger, Minister of Magic, told a Daily Prophet reporter that she did not want to remain in her present political position. On being asked why she caused such chaos she replied that the other officials resigned of their own choice. I had no intention, she claims, of causing any confusion at all. 'However, I think that Fudge is not the right man to lead the country in this time of crisis,' admits Miss Goldfinger, 'When I knew that I had him in my power, I couldn't resist getting rid of him. I did not do it for my own greed. I am not sure I am the right person to take control here, either. I sincerely hope my name may not be put down in records as a Minister of Magic, especially as the first female minister; I want that title to go to someone else sometime. At the moment, the Governors and I are searching for a possible candidate for the post of Minister. Anyone is welcome to apply, I can guarantee that all applications will be considered.'

If you know someone who might be suitable for the post write to Marisa Goldfinger, Ministry of Magic Headquarters, Diagon Alley, London. Please remember, that all applications will be taken seriously. If you write in, the Minister may consider you as a possible candidate.

"Well," said Hermione after she had finished reading the article, "we are in a mess here."

"Why?" asked Ron.

"I would have thought it was obvious. With the Ministry in confusion it would be very easy for it to be attacked. Also, Fudge won't be too pleased about being forced to leave the Ministry and may join the Dark side."

Ron's jaw dropped, "I hadn't thought of that."

"Rest assured Voldemort will have thought of it."

"Don't say his name!" said Ron through gritted teeth, "you're as bad as Harry."

"Is that a compliment or the reverse?" asked Hermione smiling, as Harry walked into the Common Room.

"Look at this, Harry!" cried Hermione jumping up and thrusting the newspaper into his hands.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Hermione!" grumbled Harry good-humourdly, "is this my present?"

"Of course not, silly! It's a newspaper."

"Wow, you don't say!" said Harry sitting down to read the article. When he had finished he said, "Looks like the Ministry's going to have fun."

"Harry!"

"OK, OK, Hermione, keep cool. Seriously though, I really don't want to discuss it now, on Christmas day."

Hermione made no reply and looked at her hands. After a bit she said calmly, but a little constrained, "I think we should look for Voldemort's daughter. After all, it is the holidays, so if we snoop around a little, no-one will notice."

"That's a point!" said Ron, eagerly. "Let's get going. Right, she won't be anyone in Gryffindor-"

"Steady on, Ron," replied Hermione, "we can't totally rule out Gryffindors."

Harry frowned, "But Hermione, I don't see how Elvira could possibly be a Gryffindor. She- she's the daughter of the most evil wizard ever!"

"Harry, she doesn't know who she is. Remember, she could actually be good. Anyway, if she's meant to be muggle born then she can't be in Slytherin. All Slytherins are pure blood, and if there was a Slytherin who supposedly wasn't, then we would have known before now."

"She's got a point there," mused Ron. Harry however, stood up and said angrily to Hermione, "OK, so who is she? Hermione Granger, Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, Ginny Weasley, Phillippa Spinnet, Carly Atkinson or Michelle Lorry? Take your pick. I personally go for Granger."

"Don't get yourself so worked up," snapped Hermione without sounding really angry, "you are paying me a great compliment by saying I am the daughter of the greatest sorcerer ever."

"Thanks."

"You know, she could be in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, not just Gryffindor?" said Ron, "By the way, stop fighting, you two. It's annoying."

Harry grinned, "So you know what it feels like?"

Ron looked innocently at Harry while Hermione tried not to laugh, "I'm never going to fight with Hermione again. Ever."

Harry stared at them happily. Hermione looked at the floor and said unhappily, "Ron, I don't like you in that way. I wish I did. But really," she added more spiritedly, "We are eighteen. You don't fall in love at eighteen, unless you're Romeo and Juliet."

Harry frowned, "My parents ran away from Hogwarts to get married when they were eighteen."

Hermione gave him a look that made Harry almost think she had said, "That doesn't help me prove my point, Harry."

"I think it could happen again. Would you run away with anyone from Hogwarts, Hermione?" asked Ron, hopefully.

"Certainly not. This conversation isn't going anywhere. Falling in love with your friends is ridiculous. If you really want to know, I don't want to get married at all. I want a profession."

Harry grinned, he could just picture Hermione a few years hence, a younger type of Professor McGonagall, wringing her hands at someone saying, 'But, darling, I want a profession!' "I bet you'll have changed your mind in a few years," he said.

Hermione looked suddenly looked very sad, "I know I will. I can't help it. I think."

"How come you know?" Harry asked in surprise, this wasn't the answer he had expected.

"You're the not the one who knows their future, but not their past or present!" And with this she ran up the stairs to her dormitories. Harry and Ron stared at where she had gone, "What's biting her? Was it my fault?" asked Ron anxiously.

Harry shook his head, "Really good Christmas Hermione is having."

Another girl who wasn't having a good Christmas was sitting on her four poster in a draughty bedroom. She had no presents. No parents to care for her at 'The Season of Goodwill'. Because she was a… She bit back the words angrily. They were of no use.

Where had it started? With her parents of course. Why were they my parents? Why couldn't they hadn't they been more reasonable? Not so concerned with image? And me? I'm the only sane member, and I'm stupid. Dumb. Thick. Braindead. If I wasn't I wouldn't be here now.

When had it started? When the letter had not come. When she had been thirteen. That fateful day… He promised me everything…

"Look at the books. Hold your wand out. Say Accio Books! Hurry up! I haven't got all day."

She looked up at her father, "If I could do it, I would be in Hogwarts now with my cousin," she answered coldly, pointing her wand at the book.

"Accio Books!" she screamed in frustration. This was the fifth time she had tried that day. And no going out until the books came to her…

The books stayed rebelliously in their place. She did not say anything. She did not show emotion. None of them did. There was a silence. Then father clutched his arm, and muttered an unrepeatable four-lettered word. He grabbed some black robes from a peg and dashed to the door, forgetting about his daughter.

"Where are you going?" she cried.

"The Master. He is calling me."

"The master whose judgement has ruled the household for almost six months? Who you are helping to rid the world of the wrong people?"

He smiled thinly at her and pointed his wand at himself to apparate. A gripping curiosity had hold of her thirteen-year-old mind. Who was this master? Why did they refer to him in this cryptic way? She ran forward, and grabbed hold of her father's free hand as he finished the spell. He looked at her with horror as they both apparated away.

They arrived at a grassy field miles away from anywhere. There were many other wizards in hooded cloaks standing silently around in a circle. She watched, silently as well. Her father was standing there, trying to hide his anger. He looked for a way to get her away.

"Have you brought your daughter, Nefarius?" asked an ice cold voice from behind them. Nefaruis and his daughter wheeled around to confront a figure in black like the rest. He was taller than them, however and had a peculiar face- red eyes, a slit nose. This must be the Master. For some reason, she did not feel terrified, like her father seemed to be. In awe, yes; but frightened, no. Nefarius was now grovelling at his master's feet, apologising more than Mr. Collins…

"Get up, Nefarius. I have use of your daughter." The silence was deafening. He led her into the centre of the circle.

She felt apprehensive, but not frightened. She was not used to being scared. She would not have survived at home if she had been a timid person. Oh, she had been spoilt well enough before the letter had not come from Hogwarts. Then all had changed.

She looked up at the red eyes of the Master. He smiled at her. "Why have you come, child?" he asked softly.

"I was curious to know about you," She answered.

"Curious in what sense?" asked Voldemort, still smiling.

"I wanted to see what the fuss was about. My parents do not tell me anything, yet I know that your guild rules the household."

There was a silence. Eventually he asked, "Is your curiosity satisfied now?"

"No." There was a very noticeable silence now. She elaborated, "Who are you, and what do you do?"

Voldemort paced up and down, her eyes following his every move. At last he said, "What I do is very complicated, child. Do you still want to know?"

"Yes."

Voldemort paced some more, "There have always been fights between us and the other side. They call themselves the 'good' side, and they think we are 'evil'. They are wrong. There is no real difference, we are both the same, except for which side we belong to. The 'good' side is not good. It is ruthless and unforgiving. They put all our side in prison with soul sucking Dementors for nothing at all. That is where all there leaders should be. The other side has had power for many years under Professor Dumbledore-"

"The headmaster of Hogwarts?" interrupted the girl.

"Yes. We meet in private in this manner because otherwise we would end up in Azkaban like the others who foolishly got themselves caught. You, child, are lucky that you do not go to Hogwarts and are not exposed to the brutality of Dumbledore's side. Do you see now? Do you understand what we are doing?"

"You are going to get enough supporters to eventually throw over the other side. You are the leader. What do you want me to do?"

Voldemort paced some more. He's making me dizzy, she thought.

"I believe you are not happy in your house at the moment?"

She was caught. If she said she was unhappy she would be in serious trouble with her father, yet it would be a lie to say she was happy. She stayed silent.

He laughed, "You are not happy. Would you like to leave them?"

Nefarius made a strange gagging sound, at which Voldemort frowned. The girl did not notice. To leave her family! To be hand selected by the Master to help fight the other side! Her eyes must have shone with an unusual emotion.

He smiled thinly, "I take it you agree. I will tell you what to do then. You will come with me and live in my castle as its mistress. To all muggles who see might see you, you are a servant. You will live in luxury and when the time comes you will be able to help me overthrow one of the strongest wizards of the other side."

"Who?"

"Harry Potter..." replied Voldemort, almost lovingly. "Have you heard of this... prodigy?"

"My cousin knows him at school."

"Lucius' son?" inquired Voldemort with what almost looked like a grin.

"Yes. He says he is a bigheaded favourite of Dumbledore."

"Do you agree?"

"I have no evidence to prove the contrary," answered the girl carefully. The answer seemed to satisfy Voldemort however, for he smiled at her, "Good, I am happy you are the girl I am looking for. Your disability with performing magic is unfortunate, but I will overlook it considering who your family is."

The girl almost laughed, 'You sounded like Lady Bracknell then.'

Voldemort was speaking again, "Now you must prove your loyalty to this side. Hold out your arm..."

She rolled back her sleeve and looked at the ugly dark mark on her skin. It had always hurt. The time had now apparently come for her to help her master capture Harry Potter. After all the wait, it should be something good. She was almost looking forward to it. She had not seen anyone apart from the most important Death Eaters for about two years. She hoped she'd get to talk to Harry Potter when he arrived. She wondered if he was really that bad.

The holidays had ended. The rest of the school had joined Harry, Ron and Hermione at Hogwarts. Lavender and Parvati came back giggling about their hunky new boyfriends. ("How many can they have in a year?" asked Hermione after having heard a minute description of the charms of Richard (the Lionheart), Lavender's beloved.)

Dean was full of the latest victories of Westham against Liverpool. Saemus had been on holiday in Ireland and had gone to the home of the Irish national quidditch team, causing Ron and Harry to drool over the photos he had brought back of the training grounds, and even the lavatories. ("Honestly, they're obsessed," sighed Hermione after having asked Harry three times about his Potions homework one evening.)

Neville had stayed at home and had caught 'flu so all were all avoiding him, and Draco Malfoy was bragging about his trip to Ibiza.

Dumbledore had returned to Howgarts, not in time to let the Seniors Ball take place however; it had been cancelled due to the problems at the Ministry. ("What shall we do?" wailed Parvati and Lavender.)

Harry, Ron and Hermione were pleased that the ball was not taking place. None of them enjoyed the school balls, though Harry hadn't minded them when he had gone with Cho. She hadn't minded he couldn't dance. Ron of course couldn't go with Hermione, not now, which created problems for all three. They hadn't mentioned the Ball yet, but there was a kind of unspoken relief when they had heard it had been cancelled. "Time to get down to more important things," Hermione said briskly, upon hearing the news, "like revision, for example."

This chapter has now ended.