A/N: Thanks to the people who reviewed the last chapter…this one will see Hermione become the new Minister, an attack on the Weasley home, and a hint to finding out who Mortimer Evans is, the character, which was introduced way back in chapter 11…
Chapter XVI: On Silent Wings
Hermione waited with bated breath, anxious for the owl post to arrive. Harry was flipping through the day's edition of the Prophet, following Hermione with his eyes, as he read. He still felt anxious about his better half, but appeared decidedly more confident and calm than Hermione.
"Where's the bloody owl?" Hermione kept muttering under her breath; she didn't swear often, and Harry was mildly impressed by her for using `bloody' more than once.
"Relax, love," he said, turning another page. "It'll be here soon."
Hermione only glanced at him, and concentrated on the sky once again. Her patience was fortunately rewarded, as she saw a speck in the distance, and audibly held her breath.
"See, I told you," Harry spoke in the silence, before rising himself to join her by the window.
Indeed, the speck eventually grew bigger into a familiar, snowy white owl. Hermione gasped, opened the window, which creaked on its hinges, and the bird swooped in, circling around the kitchen, before finally settling onto the backrest of one of the chairs.
"Hey, girl," Harry walked over to his owl, and stroked her along the back. "Long flight?"
Hedwig gave a quiet hoot, of annoyance, or because of Harry's touch, he couldn't tell. Holding out her leg, Hedwig revealed the envelope she was carrying, which bore the Ministry's emblem and insignia. Hermione approached, and with trembling hands, disengaged the envelope.
She looked at Harry with wide eyes. "Should I open it?"
"Hm," Harry replied ever slightly sarcastically. "What do you think?"
"I don't know!" Hermione let her frustration show, but then she caught on to Harry's sarcasm. "You're hilarious, you know that?" she stated snappishly.
"Thank you, love," Harry's lightheartedness reasserted itself. "Now, do you plan on framing that envelope?"
Unable to stand his taunting any longer, Hermione ripped the seal, and dived her hand for the contents. A second later, out flew a parchment, clutched tightly between her fingers. But right then, her resolution seemed to break again.
"Harry, can you read it for me?" she asked him quietly. "I want to hear it from you."
"Alright," he agreed, and added reassuringly, "there's nothing to be worried about, Hermione."
Without a word, she handed him the parchment, expecting her beloved to carry out his assigned task. Harry took it over, and perused the words, without the slightest change of expression.
"Dear Mrs. Potter," he began to read slowly.
"Go faster!" Hermione urged him to hasten. "I can't stand it." Harry looked oddly at her, and hurried to oblige her request.
"It is the Wizengamot's immense pleasure to announce that your nomination has been approved, and you have been assigned the position of Minister of Magic. Needless to mention, you post places important duties and responsibilities upon your shoulders, and you will be required to attend to them in an adequate manner. You are also aware of the publicity, associated with being the Minister of Magic, and the consequent need to be as confident as possible, when you face the people whom you represent. Your inauguration, as Minister of Magic, will take place today, at precisely twelve noon.
Yours truly,
Aberforth Dumbledore
Harry finished reading, and looked up to see Hermione's shining face.
"Oh my, oh my!" she exclaimed jubilantly. "Harry!"
Hermione ran at her significant other, and flung herself on his neck, kissing him soundly. "Harry!" she cried again, but he was still reeling from the kiss, to pay attention to her second exclamation. Still, he found the sense to spin her around happily, feeling just as elated as she was.
"Congratulations, Hermione," he told her, once she was safely back on her feet. "I am very proud of you."
She grinned at him widely. "You're sweet, Harry."
"I know, love," came his smug reply.
"What's all this ruckus about?" came a sleepy voice from the stairs.
There stood Ron, clad in his pajamas, gazing blearily at the exalted couple. Hanging on to the parapet, he did seem more than a little disgruntled, because of his interrupted slumber.
"It's Hermione," Harry explained quickly. "She's the new Minister of Magic."
"Wait, come again?" Ron asked unbelievingly, the sleep rapidly disappearing from his expression.
"Ron, I'm the Minister of Magic!" Hermione exclaimed, still at high excitement for her appointment.
"Hermione," a wide smile cracked across Ron's face, "I do believe congratulations are in order."
Laughing, Hermione hugged her best friend, and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, Ron."
"You're welcome," the redhead said happily. "You and Harry make your private plans to celebrate later, and I'm going to go tell the others."
"Bugger off, mate," Harry scolded Ron lightheartedly. "I know you and Luna will be going wild tonight."
"It's all right to be jealous, Harry," Ron answered him. "Some of us can only celebrate, but others just do it better."
He dashed off back up the stairs, before Harry could counter with an insult of his own.
Within minutes, the kitchen was teeming with people, congratulating Hermione one over the other. Fred and George, who had remained behind from the previous day's Order meeting, also expressed their praise to Hermione in their own unique way.
"You know, Mione," Fred was saying, "now that you're Minister, I think we can interest you in
several very good products we've developed recently…"
"…such as," George continued the thought with ease, "the Boil Blaster, good for disabling enemies in combat very effectively, and then there's the Tickle Me Aide Supervisor…"
"…which," Fred took the word once again, "tickles your assistants to hysterics, if they're not doing what they're supposed to. Ask them what is so funny, and watch them try to tell you."
"Would you care to see a demonstration?" George offered, and without waiting for affirmation from Hermione, said, "Our ickle Ronniekins will be happy to assist us."
The twins shared their trademark scheming grin, and spotted Ron near the sink, being intimate with Luna, when he had been assigned the task of preparing the frosting for the cake Mrs. Weasley was currently baking.
"You only have to pop open the little box, just so," Fred explained in an undertone to Hermione, who couldn't help but be intrigued, even if she disapproved somewhat of the twins' line of work. "And then you release it."
Hermone watched a pair of legs sprout from the box, and it scrambled to where Ron was standing. Once it reached his feet, it exploded noisily, and showered its objective in a fine blue powder.
Shocked, Luna jumped back, and attention suddenly turned to Harry's best friend. For a second a pregnant silence enveloped the kitchen, as conversations ceased and eyes turned to Ron. He swayed on his spot for a second, and then a smile lit his face; a moment later, he was laughing uproariously for no apparent reason.
"What's wrong with him?" a murmur went through the occupants of the kitchen; Mr. Weasley scratched his head thoughtfully, Mrs. Weasley inquired around her if anyone knew what was so humorous, but James and Madelyn followed their father's example, and joined in the laughter.
"Have they all gone insane?" Draco asked no-one in particular. "A family of nutters, they are," he muttered to himself.
"Watch you tongue about my family," Ginny admonished him, but she was just as confused as he was.
By now, Ron was really red in the face, and still laughing as hard as he could, hanging onto the sink for support.
"Is it safe?" Hermione inquired to the twins.
"Oh yeah," George replied confidently, "A simple Finite ends it."
"Then do it!" Hermione urged. "Can't you see he can't breathe?"
George raised his wand, and murmured the spell under his breath. The effect was immediate - Ron stopped laughing as suddenly as he had started.
"And that," Fred turned to address his parents and the rest of the occupants, "is our latest product!"
Agape, and still regaining his breath, Ron looked murderously at Fred and George. "I swear," he wheezed, "I will murder you both."
"Ah, strong words, Ronniekins," Fred teased him, "wouldn't you rather be happy?" He took another box from his pocket, and mimicked opening it.
"No, don't, don't you dare," Ron said quickly, stepping back.
"But where's - "
George couldn't finish his words, as by some invisible force, both Fred and George were hanging by their heels upside down in mid-air.
"Alright," Harry said, "that's enough now."
"Harry, put us down, damn it!"
"Will you leave Ron alone?" Harry continued to quiz them for a promise, eliciting sniggers from the others in the kitchen.
"Yes, yes! Just let us down," Fred said hurriedly.
Harry flicked his wrist to perform the counter curse, and the twins tumbled to the ground, looking embarrassed and annoyed at having been outwitted.
"We'll revenge you, Harry," George winked at him, as the twins filed out in the direction of the upper floor.
"Looking forward to it!" Harry called out after them, before turning to Ron. "You alright, mate?"
"Now I am," the redhead grumbled. "Those idiots."
"Well, admittedly, it was kind of funny," Hermione put in almost cheerily.
"We don't have time to lose now," Ron said, ignoring Hermione. "Ginny, can you look after the icing?" he turned to his sister.
"Why me?" Ginny complained loudly. "Why can't you do it?"
Ron grasped the bridge of his nose between two fingers, and sighed. "Malfoy needs to come with us," he explained, "because we need a witness for Hermione's inauguration in an hour. And we really can't afford to lose face in front of the Wziengamot."
"Wait," Draco intervened, "when was I dragged into this?"
"It doesn't matter," Harry told him pointedly. "You're coming."
"What's in it for me?" Malfoy challenged him obtusely, smirking all the while to see just how far he could push Ron.
"Malfoy!" the redhead exploded. "This isn't a game! Find it in your pea-sized brain to realize that! People are dying, and we're trying to figure out who's doing it! If you don't want to be here, you can leave right now!"
Breathing as if he was a wild rhinoceros, Ron stared daggers at his platinum blond adversary, waiting for his reaction. His transformation from being rather placid this morning, to one of rage and anger, took many aback.
"Weasley, can't you take a joke," Draco rebutted him in a careless tone. "Come on now," and he pushed past the still angry Ron on his way outside.
"I swear, one of these days I will kill the bastard," Ron seethed in an undertone to Harry, as they followed Malfoy out in the yard. "As if I already don't have enough to deal with."
"Relax, will you," Harry replied quietly. "We're all under immense stress here. He might be just trying to lighten up the mood a little."
"Well, he's not doing a very good job of it," Ron retained his spiteful tone.
Harry ignored him. "Hermione, you coming?" he turned to his wife.
"Yes, yes, one minute," she replied.
He saw her exchange a few more words with Remus and Tonks, before parting from them to join the leaving party.
"We have an hour left," Ron called from outside. "Harry, Hermione!"
Without waiting to see what effects aggravating their mutual best friend further would produce, the latter two hastened to join him and Draco.
"Finally," the redhead muttered under his breath, and with a crack, disapparated towards the Ministry. The others followed suit, and ended up in front of the well-known red telephone cabin.
The journey to the Wizengamot offices proved uneventful, and the quartet was left waiting their turn in the same office Harry, Ron and Hermione had been earlier.
"Hermione," Harry asked after a few minutes of silence, "what did you talk to Remus and Tonks about?"
"Oh, that," Hermione answered with a jolt. "Yes, they were telling me about something they had uncovered - a plot to attack the Burrow. So we agreed that they would evacuate everyone to Grimmauld Place, and then one or two of us can keep vigil to see if the Burrow will indeed be attacked."
"Really?" Ron interjected. "How did they find out?"
"They didn't say exactly," Hermione answered thoughtfully. "I would think a spy mission, or an informant that told them."
"But you're sure about what they said?" Ron asked urgently again.
"Yes, I am," she affirmed. "I wish it was otherwise, Ron. I don't want to see the Burrow attacked anymore than you do."
"On the bright side, they won't be able to find us at Black's old place," Draco put in conversationally.
"That's true," Harry argued. "In the end, life is more important than anything else."
At precisely that moment, the door opened, and the same haughty secretary, who we saw introduced in the last chapter, beckoned our four visitors inside the department.
"You will be attended to shortly," she declared curtly, and left them sitting squashed together on a rather small bench.
Just as promised, a minutes later, the old warlock who had talked to Harry, Ron and Hermione earlier, walked in.
"Ah, Mrs. Potter," he extended his hand, "pleasure to see you again."
"Likewise," Hermione said, shaking the proffered hand.
"I believe I failed to introduce myself last time we met," said the ancient wizard. "Aberforth Dumbledore, at your service."
"Oh," Hermione's mouth had opened in amazement, and she still had not released his hand. "You're Dumbledore's…brother?"
"Your late headmaster," Aberforth replied easily. "Yes, I am his brother."
"Well, it's nice to meet you," Hermione stammered, still reeling from the initial surprise. Beside her, the three men were equally shocked.
"Well then, let's attend to the business at hand," Dumbledore went on in the same friendly voice. "Congratulations on your appointment, Mrs. Potter."
"Thank you," she replied.
"Now, my brother spoke very highly of you to me when he was alive some years before, and foretold that you may have ambitions for the Ministerial post."
"Did he?" Hermione was taken aback.
"Oh yes, indeed. And he also arranged that I take his place in the Wizengamot, following his death. As a result, I feel that it is only prudent to forgo the formalities of inaugurating you as Minister of Magic, for if I am not mistakenly informed, there is a greater threat that looms above us."
"What do you know about the attacks?" Harry interrupted suddenly.
"Honeslty, about as much as you do," Aberforth turned to him, smiling; he reminded Harry strongly of his deceased mentor. "But what my primary concern is, is establishing the Order of the Phoenix once again to fight this new menace."
"Dumbledore never mentioned anything about you being in the Order," Ron observed suspiciously.
Aberforth's countenance did not change, but only seemed to become more delighted. "Evidently, my brother did not divulge anything before it was meant to be said. As it happens, I have been in the Order of the Phoenix ever since the first war with Voldemort. I agree that my involvement has been much more clandestine, but my effort is extremely valuable as well."
"Tell you what," Harry offered. "We don't have too much time right now, but come to the next Order meeting at Grimmauld Place. We'll send you a notice for the time."
"Ah yes, old Grimmauld," Aberforth said reminiscently, "I remember the house."
"Good," Harry replied.
"And Mrs. Potter," Aberforth continued, turning to Hermione. "Could you only sign a few papers here, to make your position official?"
Hermione placed her signature on the specified papers, and Aberforth thanked her.
"I do not have much time left for talk either," he addressed all four of them, folding the papers carefully in the meanwhile, "but I hope to receive your communication soon." He looked pointedly at Harry.
"Definitely," the object of his scrutiny ascertained. "As soon as possible."
"Excellent, then," Aberforth bowed courteously, "Until we meet again."
They wished their goodbyes, and watched him retreat into a rear chamber through an elaborate door on the back wall.
"Well, Minister," Harry quipped, "welcome to your new job."
Hermione only smiled, but Harry did notice a different concern playing in her eyes.
"Mate," Ron voiced it first, "are you out of your ever-loving mind?"
"Why, what's the matter?" Harry was still at sea.
"Think about it," Ron went on forcefully, "why did you tell him about the Order? What if he was an impostor?"
"Ron, relax," Harry told him for the second time that day. "The Wizangamot is not easily permeable. You know I trusted Dumbledore when he was around, and I do so, even now."
The finality with which Harry said those words produced the desired effect, and Ron did not argue further.
"So do we head back to the Burrow now?" he changed the subject effectively.
"No," Harry answered. "Weren't we supposed to head to Grimmauld?" he looked at Hermione.
"Yes," she affirmed. "Tell you what, you and Ron drop by the Burrow quickly, just to make sure everything is in order and nothing is forgotten, and I'll go to Grimmauld Place to see how the move is going."
"Sounds good, and we can take Malfoy with us," Ron agreed. "We'll see you tonight then?"
"Definitely," Hermione said. "Bye for now."
"Come on, you git," Ron growled at Malfoy, when Hermione had disappeared to her destination.
"Go to hell, Weasley," Draco replied in kind. "Let's hope those Death Eaters do their job tonight with you."
Ron's overstressed mind was already preparing itself for another row with Malfoy, but Harry intervened.
"Shut it, you two," he warned, "or I'll do it for you."
Neither Ron, nor Malfoy, wished to be on the business end of Harry's wand, so they quickly put a conclusion to their spite.
**
They apparated near the Burrow silently, and quickly Disillusioned themselves to prevent being noticed by hostile eyes.
"Careful now," Ron said quietly, kneeling low and creeping towards the front yard, closely shadowed by the other two.
It seemed they were already too late to make just a quick sweep. All there of them could hear voices issuing from the kitchen on the first floor, and someone cackled voraciously.
"Give it `ere, Nott," the same voice proclaimed loudly.
What were they doing, Harry wondered to himself.
Ron directed them to spread out and form an ambush when the unknown visitors came through the front door.
The air was palpable with the tension. Even though the moon was shining in the dark sky, and the night was warm, the silence remained oppressive. Slowly progressing forward, Harry, Ron and Draco closed the ring on the invaders of the Weasley home, prepared, at a moment's notice, to unleash a fury of spells, should someone come out…
"Hoffman, gimme the damn book," a second voice commanded impatiently. "You'll lose it, and the mistress wants it whole."
"Put a sock in it, you dolt," the third Death Eater spat in Irish accent. "Outta all o' us, yer the most retarded."
The first one chuckled appreciatively. "He has a point, Nott. You can't even break through a door on your own. And what happened the other day - you set your pants on fire."
"If you're talking about competence, don't make me start on how far you and that word don't go together," Nott replied darkly, but the other two only roared with laughter.
Outside, Ron removed the disillusionment charm from himself, and Harry and Draco followed suit a second later.
Harry motioned to the other two to fall behind and follow his lead. He sneaked up to the side of the door; Ron and Draco crouched down beside him, right below the window.
"On the count of three," Harry whispered, "Distract them, and immediately shield yourselves. One, two…three!" he shouted the last word, and fired a stupefying charm into the darkness. Ron and Draco's curses also sailed in random directions, and then all three of them covered themselves with protective charms.
"Oi!" a voice from the inside came, "we have company!"
Harry heard the Death Eaters' feet thunder around the kitchen, as they rose to intercept the uninvited guests, but he and the other two were already on their feet, and poised to strike the oncoming threat.
"Steady," Ron called out, as the three Death approached closer. "Fire!" he roared.
Three different spells issued from our heroes' wands, and each struck its target precisely. Just as the black-clad figures were preparing to engage, they fell forward, hit the ground forcefully, and when they came to rest, remained unconscious. From the hands of the leading Death Eater, an old, heavy book flew, and fell a little ways from them, at Ron's feet.
"All right?" Ron asked around, looking at Harry and Draco; they were non-pulsed.
"Definitely, Weasley," Draco replied. "The bastards stood no chance against us. Let's take them in."
The others moved forward to act before the captives regained their senses, but Harry noticed the book at his best friend's feet.
"Ron, hang on a second. What's that?" he asked, pointing downward.
Ron paused, and looked down. "It's a book," he said, and bent down to pick it up.
He observed it for about a minute, turning it over in his hands, and shuffling through the pages. The book seemed to draw him somehow, even if he couldn't see any of the words of pictures in the dark.
"Come on, let's tie up those goons," Harry called over to Draco, and they set about to doing the task; Ron in the meanwhile, was still strangely interested in the book…
"Weasley, you alright?" Draco asked Ron loudly, as he tightened up the conjured rope around one of the Death Eaters' hands.
The redhead's attention snapped back to the reality of the situation, and he seemed startled. "Yeah…" he replied distantly. "I'm fine…let's finish this off…"
"Malfoy, stand guard while Ron and I look over the house, will you?" Harry asked him after eyeing Ron oddly.
"Sure," Draco answered. "Just hurry up."
Ron refused to release the book, and took it with him, when he and Harry entered the Burrow. They did not take long to finish the sweep of the house, as it was devoid of life, and everything of value, both monetary and sentimental, had been taken.
"At least they made it out safe," Harry pointed out, as they walked back out into the yard.
"Yeah, that's good," Ron replied, still distantly, and if it was possible, not quite very focused either.
"Are you sure you're feeling well?" Harry's concern surfaced again.
"For sure," the latter answered in the same tones.
Harry dismissed it for now, but in a ray of moonlight, he managed to glance, completely by accident, at the title of the book: The Wandmaker
A chill stole through Harry for a reason he could not quite place. Something about the book many him uneasy, and Ron's tight grip on it only increased his discomfort. He tried to dissuade the feeling, but without success.
Without much hassle, the captives were restrained by various spells, and the three of them disapparated to the Ministry to be handled.
Above, the moon continued to shine brightly, and clouds partially obscured the stars. In the dead stillness of the night, the silhouette of the Burrow stood, ominous and quiet, strangely unsettling with its eerie presence. A sudden, unnatural cold wind disturbed the silence, rustling the leaves and causing the shutters on the windows of the house batter against the walls as it blew; it was, as if, foretelling of the dark times ahead, warning that evil was returning, stronger than ever before…
A/N: Chapter 16, done and done. Reviews appreciated, as always, and the next installment is due in the soonest possible time frame…:D
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