Unofficial Portkey Archive

Harry Potter and the Gilded Portrait - Part Three

Standard Disclaimers Apply…

Chapter Thirty Two - Not again!

One evening Hermione found herself on late afternoon rounds. Before she had realized where she was Headmistress McGonagall had requested her audience as the older woman made her way up from having a chat with Professor Hagrid.

"Ms. Granger may I have a word with you for a moment in my office," the Headmistress requested matter-of-factly, "I realize you are on duty as Head Girl. I promise this shall only take a moment."

"Of course Headmistress," Hermione replied a bit perplexed. To Hermione the headmistress appeared to be a bit nervous - there was just no other word to describe her mentor's demeanor.

When they entered into the Headmistresses office each took their usual places. Hermione noticed several of the past Headmaster's portraits were empty, including Professor Dumbledore. She just shrugged it off as what was probably a normal occurrence.

The Headmistress appeared rather glum for a moment staring blankly at the top of her desk.

That struck Hermione as very odd indeed. She had never seen McGonagall so deeply concerned or distracted before and it was more than a little disconcerting. Hermione found herself getting a bit nervous and more than a little intrigued.

Finally McGonagall looked up with her usual prim expression, reached into a draw hidden from Hermione's view below the surface of the desk. When the Headmistress withdrew her hand, in it was a folded piece of parchment with a red wax seal holding it closed. She placed it gently on the desktop between them as if the piece of paper was fragile as glass.

"I can almost here the myriad questions forming in your utterly brilliant mind Ms. Granger but I must interpose that your speculations would be wasted on the contents of the document in front of me."

"However, I must request that you reserve judgment of and…reaction to its contents until you've had proper time to absorb the possible meanings and consequences of what this parchment contains. Do I have your word on that Ms. Granger?"

Now Hermione was absolutely overcome with unabashed curiosity. She nodded absentmindedly. If she didn't see what was written on that parchment in the next few seconds she was going to explode. She could feel the pressure in her head building to a dangerous level.

McGonagall's eyes looked a bit distant for just a brief moment then she returned a rather stern gaze back on her young protégé.

"Perhaps it would be best for you to read it first," the headmistress slowly slid the folded note across the desk until it sat in front of Hermione, "Then I will divulge how I came to possess such a thing."

That comment made the elder woman's face crumple as if she had just taken a mouthful of bubbotuber puss.

"I will also tell you Ms. Granger," the old Transfiguration Professor sighed, "to entertain the prospect of such a thing once again will not be easy to accept but please remember what I requested of you a moment before if you please."

McGonagall held out a hand as if to urge Hermione to open the note. She didn't require any further urging. Hermione picked up the note and gently broke the seal. When she unfolded the parchment she saw several lines of writing in what she instantly recognized as the headmistresses hand. She began to read them…

As she read, then re-read the five lines of text on the paper in front of her the slow dawning of realization started permeating her mind. The meaning of what she was seeing suddenly ran over her brain like a stampeding herd of Hippogriffs.

"Oh…my…word…" Hermione whispered as she gaped at the Headmistress with wide eyes, "Is this what I think it is?"

The Headmistress took a deep breath and began to explain without the benefit of preamble.

"A few weeks prior to the start of the school term our illustrious and often soused Divinations Professor found herself in her usual spot at the Three Broomsticks. It just so happens Professor Hagrid was there on that evening as well."

"He and Madam Rosmerta heard Professor Trelawney utter these phrases as she sat in near proximity at the bar. They swiftly recorded the phrases to make certain they had heard them correctly due to the fact that after uttering this…this…" the Headmistress couldn't seem to find the correct description so she simply forged ahead, "Apparently she had no recollection of saying any such thing at all."

"Rubeus brought this straight away to me here in my office and after a rather extensive discussion that included most all the Past Headmasters we found ourselves forced to accept the fact that another prophecy has been set upon us once again like a plague of locust."

McGonagall suddenly looked much older and more worn than at any time during the last confrontation with Voldemort.

Hermione sat completely stunned into utter silence as she let the words and possible meanings of the sentences before her absorb in her mind like a sponge soaking up spilt liquid.

At first she was having a very difficult time accepting what her eyes, ears and common sense told her was real and as the ramifications began to work themselves out in her mind her shock and surprise slowly began to morph into an altogether different emotional response. She suddenly felt heat rising from the collar of her jumper and the edges of her vision seemed to take on a faint red hue and blur out of focus as well.

She forced herself to sit perfectly still and tried desperately to keep her facial features completely neutral. She wasn't sure she was pulling it off but she was absolutely certain of something else. She glanced back up at the headmistress who was eyeing her intently.

"May I be excused Headmistress," Hermione asked as politely as her quickly boiling temper would allow, "and would it be alright if I took this with me?"

"Certainly Ms. Granger," McGonagall replied cautiously. She could see the younger woman's face slowly turning a rather unflattering shade of puce, "I was hoping you would. I realize your schedule is quite full however if you find a free moment perhaps you could put your outstanding deductive reasoning to this conundrum. All I ask is that you share with me anything you may discover that might be useful in determining just exactly what we are to expect in the days to come. Is that acceptable Ms. Granger?"

Hermione only nodded as she got up from the chair and turned to make her way out of the Headmistresses office. She did not trust herself to speak at the moment or she just might scream loud enough to shatter most all the delicate glass objects that surrounded them.

Hermione stormed back into the Head common room in such a towering fury she was now seeing red spots before her eyes. Her mood had turned from unabashed shock to her present state in the walk from the Headmistress's office to her common room.

She couldn't believe it was happening again! She refused to accept the ridiculous old fraud had spluttered out another diatribe of nonsense that had everyone on edge.

But there it was…written on the parchment the Headmistress had given her only moments before.

As she irritably dumped herself into one of the overstuffed chairs sat in the center of the room surrounding a low tea table she tossed the scroll onto the table as if it was cursed. It was terribly crumpled. Hermione was a bit surprised to realize she had been tightly clenching her fists.

Neville was there working on his lessons and Luna appeared to be no where in site. It was just as well; while she loved and cared for Luna very much, Hermione was in no mood for silliness and barmy pronouncements this evening. Besides, the flaky Ravenclaw had the unnerving ability to know or either makes very accurate assumptions about what was bothering someone without being told.

Neville only glanced up at her from his homework and recognizing her mood at once wisely chose to burry his nose back into his assignments without further inquiry or comment.

He had spent enough time and had come to know his fellow Head Girl well enough to recognize when she wanted to be left to her own thoughts.

Hermione was seething. She didn't want to accept the fact history seemed to be repeating itself…again!

Sitting there stewing in the simmering juices of her intense anger she suddenly realized Neville was struggling to keep his quills, inkwell, books, parchments, candles and whatever other odds and ends on the table from flying off in as many different directions as things began to float away.

"Err, Hermione?" Neville mumbled, "I don't mean to complain but…"

As soon as she realized what was happening everything hovering in the air above the table crashed back down. Neville was splattered with ink when his inkwell crashed back to the table top. The candles toppled over spilling hot wax on his parchment.

With an abrupt apology she quickly helped him scourgify everything shocked at her complete loss of control. It wasn't the first time her magic had gone haywire like that…

She had lost control at St. Mungo's the night she found out her parent's memories had been damaged. She almost electrocuted an Auror that night. Her magic also went wonky when she made love to Harry. She still couldn't figure out how or why it happened. She had attributed the former to her fatigue and stress but was still baffled about the whole love-making thing.

She tried desperately to shove those thoughts aside. She had other things to think about at present.

She growled inside her own head as she remembered the words of those stupid sentences.

She understood all too well evil existed in many shapes and forms in the world but she was also instantly aware of who those particular phrases were referring to. It was obvious and didn't take a genius intellect or clever deductive reasoning to know that much.

What concerned Hermione more than anything was her mind's desire to completely dismiss the whole Prophecy thing as tripe once again. It was as if her brain refused to wrap itself around the possible meaning of the prophecy without the slightest desire to delve into the issue.

Irregardless of her opinion on the authenticity of the words Trelawney had uttered that evening at the Three Broomsticks she had always attacked a problem head on and most times with relish to come up with the correct answers but this time things were different.

She was almost convinced it was nothing more than her aversion to all things Divination but it seemed to be more serious then that. It was almost as if her mind wanted to just…block it all out and move forward without looking back on past events.

In the months that followed the final conflict she had been lulled into a sense of peace and serenity and was loathed to give it all up once again for the fate of the Wizarding world.

She leaned forward and snatched the parchment off the table and unrolled it, smoothing out the wrinkles left by her subconscious death grip. She sat back with a deeply exasperated sigh.

Just looking at the words written in McGonagall's perfectly neat and professional penmanship her mind seemed to loose focus and wander. That was not like her at all.

Evil stirs once more in darkness

Born unto the house of the serpent

Ancient's magic within youth disguised

Will unchain the dead from restless slumber

To awaken upon the Savior's demise

As she sat there starring at the parchment trying to force herself to concentrate on the words a single name began to materialize in the depths of her subconscious mind as if forming out of the mists of confusion and doubt. In mere seconds it was there…

Voldemort…

As the name formed it became surrounded by bright green mist that also formed into an unmistakable figure…

The Dark Mark…

NO!

She threw the parchment from her as she lurched to her feet. Glancing down at Neville she realized he was starring at her with wide-eyed concern. She had not realized she had screamed out loud.

She turned without a word and bending to pick up the discarded parchment made her way quickly to her bedroom. When she closed the door she leaned against it, arms wrapped tightly around her middle and with chin falling to her chest she broke down letting the tears come without care or concern. Her body shook with desperate gasping sobs. She couldn't help it.

Why can't they just leave us alone!

Her room was utterly dark. She thought for a brief moment the darkness might be able to hide her this time but she knew better.

Evil exists and thrives in the dark places of the world - of our lives - in our minds.

"Oh H…Harry," she whispered. She felt something inside her begin to crumble, tumbling down upon itself like portions of the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts during the final battle.

Slowly the world around her began to shift and change. She was no longer in the darkness of her room. She was standing on the edge of a bottomless void. Howling winds whipped about her, causing her hair to billow about her face, blinding her, pushing her ever closer to the edge.

She knew what lay below in the dark place beneath her. It was full of pain, emptiness, fear and despair. She knew, as if it were written across her soul, if she allowed herself to fall…this time she may never find her way out.

A voice filled her mind again just as it had in her parent's dental office that night. It was a voice she knew well.

"Get a grip Hermione!" The voice demanded, "Since when have you put any faith in anything Professor Trelawney said? We've been through all this before. Whatever this is, we'll go through it again. We'll face it Hermione…we'll face it together and we'll win. We'll win because you don't know how to lose!"

There was laughter then, his laughter, joyous and care-free, echoing in her mind like the sweetest music.

He was right…Hermione Granger didn't know how to lose. Hermione Granger didn't know how to give up. It simply wasn't in her nature.

Suddenly, she was in his arms. They were dancing under the twinkling lights of the thatched hut in Tahiti, the rhythmic music moving them around and around in circles. She had felt so alive in that very moment, more alive than she had ever felt in her entire life.

And happy!

Her inner vision cleared. The scenes in her minds eye vanished. She straightened up releasing her midsection and stood, head held high, defiant in the darkness of her room.

She reached inside her robe and pulled her wand. With a flick of her wrist light burst fourth as candles and oil lamps sprung to life around her chamber.

No more debilitating weakness, self doubt or pity Granger - It's time to get to work!

With a renewed sense of determination she sat down at her desk and unrolled the words of the Prophecy once again but as she poured over them she still could not seem to find the answers she knew were there. There was something she was missing, some clue that still eluded her.

Over the next few days she pondered the dilemma of the Prophecy until it became too distracting. In her reasoning whatever was going to happen would happen eventually but at the same time she was not filled with a sense of urgency to decipher the message much like last time.

It was an odd situation, like a puzzle whose solution would have little effect on the outcome of whatever its message was trying to convey.

In one way, to her organized mind and otherwise keen sense of perception it was pointless, like trying to find the beginning or the end of a perfect circle. The message seemed as useless as the last Prophecy the dizzy old bat had spit out. In another way, however, it differed greatly. Where the previous message was vague and convoluted, this one seemed specific, direct and to-the-point. That had to count for something, she just wasn't sure what or if it was even that important.

The one thing she knew for certain was that Harry was once again the target of some evil event that, to her utter dismay, seemed to involve Voldemort - or at least, someone acting on his behalf.

She wondered if she should try to contact Harry and tell him. She realized he was presently ensconced in a secret location known only to a select few surrounded by Aurors, Hit Wizards, unbreakable Ministry-level wards and spells and anyone foolish enough to try to get to him at the moment would regret their decision.

For the first time Hermione found herself thankful he had decided to take Kingsley up on his offer.

---@>---

Several days later, as she made her way into her Defense Against the Dark Arts class she realized at once something was different. Everyone was up, standing about the room in hushed but casual conversation.

Looking toward the front of the class she noticed a very familiar figure standing with Professor Dervish.

Speak of the Devil…

When everyone was present Professor Dervish bounded to his lecture podium with his usual exuberant enthusiasm.

"Good morning class," The Professor said brightly. Everyone turned their attention but didn't settle into their seats as usual, "As many of you know we have a very special project for you today. I am most pleased to introduce a gentleman who has graciously agreed to assist us in the practical application of what we have discussed in our previous lesson…"

Hermione recalled they had been lectured at length about the uses and practical applications of deductive reasoning in the determination and identification of dark magic, wards and spells. They had also discussed the importance in collecting evidence to support theories and the ability to identify what was important from the innocuous.

Although it wasn't stated outright, Hermione had deduced this lesson had something to do with the new and improved Department of Magical Law Enforcement's move to a more scientific bent. She had read about some of it in the Daily Prophet and as if to confirm her deduction, Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Head of the D.M.L.E. stood at the front of the class ready to assist Professor Dervish in an exercise to illustrate those very points.

Well, Hermione thought, at least today's class shouldn't be boring!

She also thought she might have a chance to talk to Kingsley about Harry to find out how he was doing, if he would divulge such information. Of course, seeing how secretive they all were about their program she didn't reserve much hope for any disclosure.

She listened as Professor Dervish explained the details of the practical experiment they were about to undertake.

"I would like you all to welcome Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt. He is the director and head of the revamped Department of Magical Law Enforcement and has graciously agreed to take some time from his most demanding schedule to help conduct this lesson." Professor Dervish turned to the guest and gestured toward the podium, "Mr. Shacklebolt."

Kingsley moved to the podium and scanned the eager faces of the class.

"Thank you Professor. As some of you may now know the Ministry has taken a new and more rational approach to dealing with dark magic and those who practice all types of subversive activities. As a result I have been graciously granted the authority by the Wizengamot to apply some very useful techniques I learned while in the employ of the Muggle Prime Minister during the darkest days of Lord Voldemort's attempted rise to power."

"Seeing as this is a Seventh Year course I also realize many of you were involved in that conflict so you know first hand how the Dark Lord and his minions were able to infiltrate and seize many of our most important establishment with little effort. Some of what we are now doing is aimed at preventing such catastrophes from happening in the future and having said that…it is quite obvious to me that you are the future of our world."

"Today I hope to demonstrate, through hands-on experience, the importance of not only knowing practical defensive skills but also how to use reasoning and information, deducing clues to solve crimes and using that information to bring wrong-doers to justice."

"This test is to enable you to recognize and interpret those clues. The details are simple. We have cordoned off a section of the grounds near Professor Hagrid's hut into approximately five by five foot sections."

"Each of you will be issued one of these sections and tasked with finding an important clue left by an imaginary miscreant who has perpetrated a robbery on an unsuspecting Muggle family. I will tell you that the clue, which is singular in nature, is obvious."

"That's the only information about the clue I will divulge. You are to find, record and report the correct clue, without divulging it to others who are still looking for it if you please, to Professor Dervish. Once the nature of the clue is established we will then examine the clue for additional evidence that may reveal the who, what, where, how and why's of our mystery crime. Those are the prime keys to solving any mystery…Asking the right questions."

Kingsley then turned to the professor who seemed ready to burst with excitement.

"For those who find the correct clue will receive 25 points for their respective houses and the first one to find it will be awarded 25 additional house points! Now…are we ready?"

Ron leaned toward her and whispered, "It's something buried in the ground," then winked at her with a smug grin.

"Figure that out all by yourself, did you," she chuckled smirking, patting him on the shoulder. He glared back at her.

Everyone mumbled assent and they followed Kingsley and Professor Dervish down to the front entrance and out onto the grounds. As they made their way passed Hagrid's hut he gave them a thumb's up as they moved by his 3^rd year Care of Magical Creatures class.

"I thin' you'll find all is as ye' requested Mr. Shacklebolt sir."

"Thank you for your assistance Hagrid," Kingsley replied with a smile.

When Hagrid's eyes fell on Hermione and Ron he beamed and waved. They waved back.

Hermione made a mental note to go visit him as soon as she could. She thought she might convince Ron to go with her but as she glanced at him she could see he was too busy studying Eloise Midgeon's bum.

How could a bloke be so completely single-minded? I love sex…well sex with Harry, any way but Merlin's beard!

---@>---

Ronald Weasley had become, since the term had been in session, a complete lecherous cad. Hermione was continually getting complaints from girls of every house about the constant groping, grabbing, touching, squeezing and fondling.

It seemed he was taking full advantage of Ministry Decree #759 and using the knowledge that he could not be expelled to do as he damned well pleased.

A few nights after receiving the Prophecy from McGonagall Hermione had finally got one complaint too many and had reached the limit of even her patience so she decided to take preemptive action Head Girl Bitch from Hell style.

She caught him coming out of the Gryffindor dormitory with Dean and Seamus and proceeded to give Ronald Bilius Weasley the Bossy know-it-all witch's version of a very impressive and quite effective Atomic Wedgy. With a flick of her wand his underpants were stretched so tight they were pulled all the way up over the back of his head with the toes of his trainers just barely scraping the flagstone floor.

Seamus and Dean blanched sheet white and looked like they were going to spew (and she wasn't thinking S.P.E.W. either) watching the horror unfold before their very eyes.

"IF I GET ONE MORE BLOODY REPORT FROM A GIRL IN THIS SCHOOL ABOUT RONALD WEASLEY I SWEAR I'M GOING TO TRANSFIGURE YOUR ICKLE RONNYKINS INTO TO A BLOODY SNARGLEUFF POD…GOT IT? ARE YOU BLOODY HEARING ME?"

She had said it all through tightly clenched teeth.

Eyes running with tears of pain he nodded wildly and squeaked, (in a voice that strangely resembled a House Elf huffing helium)

"Got it!"

She released him then, underwear snapping back into place with a sickening sound as he collapsed gasping for breath lying curled into the fetal position on the floor clutching his groin.

As she stormed away she heard Seamus say, "That has to be the most frightening thing I've ever witnessed! I think I'm scarred for life!"

"Yaaahh," Dean replied gulping hard, his right eye was twitching.

Needless to say - she had no more complaints about his rude behavior.

---@>---

When they reached the area with the cordoned-off sections each student took their assigned places. Professor Dervish got their attention by clapping his hands.

"Now class," he said, "You may use whatever means you think necessary to find the clue as long as it's within reasonable and legal limits. You may also use any other form of magic or device you may think of in your endeavor. You have till the end of class to complete your assignment so take your time and consider…well…everything! Is everyone ready?"

Nods all around.

"Excellent!" He practically shouted, "You may begin!"

While most all the students immediately turned their attention to the ground under their feet Hermione took a moment to consider her little plot. Her first observation was that none of the earth in any of the plots looked disturbed. A fine layer of grass covered the entire grounds.

When she glanced over at Ron he had retrieved a shovel from somewhere, most likely Hagrid's hut, and was digging like a Niffler. Others were a bit more subtle in their approach. They were using all manner of summoning charms and revealing spells.

As Hermione watched them she quickly became convinced the clue they were looking for wasn't buried in the plots. In fact, it wasn't in the plots at all. She had no idea how she knew that. It was just a gut feeling but she was almost certain.

She stood gazing around at the surrounding area. From where they were a part of the Forbidden Forest could be seen just beyond Hagrid's hut. When she focused on a rather large clump of bramble growing wild between two large trees she spotted what looked distinctly like the shiny chrome bumper of a very shiny and very modern-looking automobile.

She remembered Ron telling her a long time ago that his father's old Ford Anglia was still out there somewhere in the forest but this was not that car.

She grinned. The clue fit. It had been a Muggle family that had been burgled. The robber stole the family car to facilitate his escape or to simply take a joy ride and abandoned it in the woods! That had to be it.

She wrote down her response on her parchment careful not to look back at the car lest she give it away. She even recorded the partial license plate number. When she was finished she stepped out of her plot and headed for Professor Dervish and Kingsley Shacklebolt watching the class with barely veiled amusement.

When she handed her paper to the Professor he read it and a huge grin broke out across his face. He gave her a reverent bow.

"We have our first correct response ladies and gentlemen!" He said proudly, "Fifty points for Gryffindor! Well done Ms. Granger!"

"Ooh Granger finishes first! There's a shock!" Someone said but now all the students were peering at her vacant plot noticing she had not turned over a single bit of soil or cast the first spell. It wasn't long until they started catching on, some quicker than others. Ron's hole was now almost two feet deep.

In times past that comment might have hurt Hermione's feelings but no longer. They all had been given the same clues she had so…bugger them all! Let Weasley dig until he pokes the Devil himself in the bum. She'd just won 50 points for her house!

"Well done Ms. Granger," Kingsley said in his deep voice, "I can't say I'm all that surprised." He chuckled quietly, "You know, you'd make an exceptional Auror if you were so inclined young lady."

Hermione held up her hand.

"While I thank you for the compliment Mr. Shacklebolt, I have no desire to chase Death Eaters and Dark wizards around for the rest of my days unlike others I know."

Kingsley nodded thoughtfully.

"Speaking of our resident Auror-in-training, would it be a breach of security to ask how he's doing?"

Kingsley gave her a knowing grin.

"I think you already know the answer to that question Ms. Granger but to assuage your curiosity, Harry is doing fine. It's still too early in the program yet to determine if he'll see it through to the end but…only time will tell. What I can tell you is this program is going to be tougher than anything he's ever faced and if I had any reservations about Harry's ability to succeed I would not have recruited him."

"Harry's actually the youngest recruit in the program. Most of the others were selected from the Auror and Hit Wizard rosters and are mostly in their mid-twenties. Even though they have all had the advantage of prior training Harry is holding his own quite well. I must confess I was a bit worried about that at first but that doesn't seem to be a problem."

"Personally, I think before all is said and done Harry's going to become one of the most formidable and accomplished wizards of his time and I mean that sincerely Ms. Granger. In fact, I think he'll even be able to outshine Albus Dumbledore in many ways."

That comment stunned Hermione but it also made her grin like a loon.

"Please promise me something Mr. Shacklebolt, will you?" She asked quietly.

"I shall certainly do my best young lady," he said.

"Please take care of him," she said, her eyes swimming slightly, "I love him and if anything were to happen to him…" she could not continue. Her throat seized up for a moment.

"I promise I will look after Harry but I assure you Ms. Granger, Harry Potter is more than capable of looking after himself."

"I know sir but I have an ulterior motive for asking," she added cryptically.

"And that would be?" Kingsley gave her a sideways look.

"Do you know about the new Prophecy Professor Trelawney came out with a few weeks before the term started?"

"I am," was all he said about it but his face took on a rather dark set to his features.

"So you can see why I'm concerned."

"Certainly," he nodded, "How many others have you told about the new prophecy Ms. Granger?"

"No-one," she replied, "Not that the Headmistress expressly told me to keep it a secret, I just feel compelled to keep it to myself for now. I just received it earlier this week."

"Ah, well," Kingsley grinned again but this time it seemed a bit less bright, "I can assure you Harry is perfectly safe where he is right now."

"I know Mr. Shacklebolt," Hermione said, "I must admit I was not altogether thrilled with his decision to join your program but now…" She felt she didn't have to finish that statement.

Kingsley put a very fatherly hand on her shoulder and patted her gently. It was then two more students stepped out of their plots and made their way to Professor Dervish…One correct, one incorrect. The student who got it wrong returned to his plot glumly.

"I wish that none of this was necessary at all Ms. Granger but it seems, in our world those who choose to defy conventional wisdom don't just pass on like the rest of us. It seems evil, especially the kind like Voldemort's, leaves imprints or indelible marks on our consciousness. It's almost something akin to an incurable disease. It's not something that makes for a restful night's sleep."

Kingsley couldn't help but recall his strange nightmare.

"Why can't they just leave him the bloody hell alone," Hermione whispered more to herself than to Kingsley. She was absently watching as a few more students got the clue.

"That answer is easy Ms. Granger," Kingsley smiled sadly, "It's what Harry represents…what he stands for. For those who think it important, doing away with Harry Potter would create such fear and paranoia it would almost be impossible for this world to recover from at this point."

Hermione looked at the old Auror darkly.

"I don't believe that for one moment and neither do you. Harry is important and irreplaceable to this world, yes I'll give you that but so was Albus Dumbledore! It took an army of very determined witches and wizards to bring Voldemort down! Don't hang all of it on Harry's shoulders. It's not fare! I won't stand for it!"

Her features were set with a look of such stubborn determination he didn't feel he possessed the nerve to contradict her.

"Perhaps you're right Ms. Granger." It was all he could say in response.

Feeling she had made her point they watched in silence as the rest of the class as they finally figured out the hidden clue. Ron was next to last.

With that part complete they moved to where the Muggle car was hidden and preceded to learn about how to properly collect evidence and clues to answer the necessary questions to how the car had gotten there and why.

Hermione found herself a bit more distracted by her conversation with Kingsley than she was willing to admit so she was quite satisfied to let the rest of the class complete the assignment. To her surprise it was Ron who found the car's registration with the victim's name and address and a few other minor clues to conclude their investigation but missed what Hermione considered one of the most important clues of all.

It was the discarded empty package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans on the floorboard under the passenger seat but she kept silent. She really wasn't all that interested in a make-believe crime - her mind was on their new trouble in the real world and what it all meant for them this time.

I'm getting too old for all this nonsense!

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