Unofficial Portkey Archive

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm just borrowing it for a bit of nonsense.

No More Mysteries

by: MayorHaggar

Chapter 12: Up in Flames

"So you're telling me that Voldemort told Snape he was going to come after Hermione, you knew about it, and didn't tell her?" Harry hissed, his fists clenched as he glared at his Headmaster. Dumbledore sighed and nodded.

"Yes, Harry, that is correct, but--"

"Don't try and talk your way out of this," Harry spat. "You promised that you would tell us whenever you learned something important about Voldemort or the war, but you sure as hell don't seem to be keeping that promise. And this concerns Hermione directly!"

"You are quite right, Harry," Dumbledore said sadly. "I should have told you, regardless of my feeling that this was merely a ploy on Voldemort's part. I wanted the two of you to enjoy your visit to Hogsmeade, and not have to worry about a potential threat that I did not believe would materialize. But that does not excuse the fact that I promised to keep you informed, and failed to do so. I apologize."

Harry wasn't anywhere near satisfied with that, but Hermione held up a hand to forestall him so she could speak instead. "So what happens next?" she asked.

"Thanks to Professor Snape being able to warn you before he departed, we are taking every precaution possible. Various members of the faculty are escorting the rest of the students back here to the castle as we speak, and are prepared to defend them should any Death Eaters show up in the village. Also, given his precarious political standing, Minister Fudge was more than happy to loan me some of his aurors. To be perfectly honest, though, I still do not anticipate any attack on either the village or the castle at this time," Dumbledore explained.

"Why is that?" Harry asked, his need for answers overriding his anger with the Headmaster for the time being. "I don't know about you, but I think Voldemort is arrogant enough to tell you exactly what he plans to do, and then attempt to do it. He's not exactly subtle."

"Perhaps not. There is no denying his vanity, though he can be quite clever when he chooses to be," Dumbledore agreed. "However, I do not think he would undertake an operation as big as a direct attack on Hogsmeade or Hogwarts purely to harm Hermione. She is not important enough in the grand scheme of his campaign, no offence intended, Miss Granger."

"None taken," Hermione said with a nod. "You're right. If he were going to attack us here, he'd be going after either you or Harry. Or both of you."

"Precisely," Dumbledore nodded. "Voldemort is clearly up to something today, but I don't believe you are in any danger, Miss Granger."

Relieved, Harry settled back into his chair and exhaled. But things were about to get much, much worse.

One of the many instruments located on Dumbledore's desk began beeping. Harry saw the look of concern cross Dumbledore's face, and knew something was terribly wrong.

"What is it?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Something has tripped the wards we discreetly placed on your parents' property following Voldemort's return, Hermione. Your home is likely under attack."

-NMM-

Scant moments later, Dumbledore had apparated all three of them just outside the wards that the Order had placed around the Granger property. The moment they landed, they witnessed a most horrifying sight.

The Grangers' home was engulfed in flames.

"MUM! DAD!" Hermione screamed, and she took a few tottering steps towards the house she'd grown up in.

"Stop, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said sharply. She gave no sign that she'd heard him and took four more steps, picking up speed as reality set in.

"Hermione," Harry whispered, wanting to help his girlfriend but having no idea how to do so.

"Harry, you must hold her back," Dumbledore said beseechingly. "I have to get closer so I can quickly analyse the situation before the muggle response team arrives, but I need the two of you to stay well away in case the flames react to my presence."

Harry nodded and rushed forward. He wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist and halted her unsteady march towards her house. She tried to fight him off, but he doggedly held on, using his larger frame to restrain her despite her struggles. He held her back tightly to his chest as Dumbledore hurried towards the flaming house.

A few of the neighbours who happened to be at home began to come outside once they realised what was happening, but Dumbledore ignored both their presence and the Statute of Secrecy for the sake of urgency.

Dumbledore's wand was in his hand as he paced around the perimeter of the house. He waved it back and forth swiftly every so often, but the flames did not abate in the least. If Dumbledore was attempting to put the fire out, he was failing.

Dumbledore soon tucked his wand away and hurried back the way he'd come, as Harry and Hermione watched him intently. Neither teen missed the grave look on their headmaster's face. Hermione trembled in her boyfriend's arms, and Harry squeezed her tighter.

"Aside from the three of us, there are no living life forms in or around the house," Dumbledore announced once he'd rejoined them. Hermione sobbed and went limp in Harry's arms, and his tight grip around her waist was the only thing that kept her from falling to the ground. Knowing that his girlfriend was in no state to speak coherently, it fell to Harry to ask the question.

"You mean..." he whispered, but Dumbledore held up his hand.

"We must not jump to any conclusions, Harry," he said firmly, while pulling a knut from the pocket of his robes. "All we know for certain is that there are no signs of life. Now, it is important that I alter the memories of the surrounding muggles before their emergency response teams arrive. I must request that you and Hermione take this portkey back to Hogwarts. I will join you shortly."

"But I want to help--" Harry protested, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"There is nothing you can do, Harry. Her neighbours are sure to know that Hermione attends a boarding school, so she must not be here once the authorities arrive. It will create complications that we do not need right now."

"But--"

"Hermione needs you, Harry. Please, take her away."

Harry nodded reluctantly, and unhooked his right arm from around Hermione's waist in order to accept the knut that Dumbledore was holding out to him. He grabbed the knut with his right hand, and gave Hermione a reassuring squeeze with his other arm as the two of them were portkeyed back to Dumbledore's office.

-NMM-

As soon as their feet touched the ground, Hermione sagged into Harry's waiting arms. She buried her face into his shoulder and sobbed, soaking his shirt with her tears. As Harry rubbed his hands up her back soothingly, he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and noticed that they were not alone in the office.

"Where's Dumbledore?!" Nymphadora Tonks asked urgently, rushing towards them, her face pale and anxious. Hermione reluctantly extricated herself from Harry's arms, though she stayed close by his side and gripped his hand tightly.

"He's still at Hermione's house-there's a fire," Harry said quietly. Hermione took a ragged breath next to him, and Harry gave her hand a squeeze, letting her know that he was still thinking of her. But the look on Tonks' face gave Harry a very uneasy feeling.

"What's wrong, Tonks? Did something happen?" Hermione asked, her voice choked with tears.

"I've just got word that the Death Eaters have appeared in Diagon Alley!"

--NMM--

Bill Weasley was not a stranger to danger. When one becomes a curse breaker, danger is accepted and acknowledged as part of the job. Even so, nothing could have prepared him for this.

Gringotts Wizarding Bank was under attack. Throughout the bank, the mostly goblin staff was trying to shore up the bank's defences and organize a counter-attack, or at the least, a defence strong enough to hold them off until help could arrive. Bill admired their resolve, but it was clear to him that the situation was dire. The Death Eaters were out en masse, and they were being hit hard. Gringotts was one of the most secure institutions in the wizarding world, but it had never before faced such a brazen all-out assault. Despite their best efforts, they were losing, and losing badly.

Bill was not a wealthy man by any means, but at that moment, he would have given every last hard-earned knut simply to live out the day and find himself back in the arms of his beautiful fiancé. Unfortunately, he had to admit that the odds of that happening were looking quite grim. Still, he was at least able to take solace in the fact that Fleur hadn't been working at the bank on this fateful day. She was out with her mother, doing some shopping and making plans for their wedding.

A wedding that we'll never get to have unless I make it out of here alive, he reminded himself. With that thought in mind, Bill clutched his wand tighter and narrowed his eyes as he spotted a pair of masked Death Eaters walking down the corridor and towards him. He snarled, popped out from behind the wall he'd been using as cover, and fired off a powerful cutting curse at the Eater on the left before he'd even managed to react. The robed figure let out a surprised grunt and clutched at his neck, trying to staunch the flow of crimson.

Knowing that the first Eater was disposed of, Bill focused his efforts on his companion. The Eater fired off a red curse that he did not recognize, so Bill rolled to the side to avoid it before returning fire with a blasting curse that caught his opponent in the stomach. The man tumbled to the floor in a heap, and Bill concealed himself behind cover once more while keeping his eyes peeled for any other threats.

Before long, another robed figure appeared in the corridor beyond, walking the same path as the two he'd just dispatched. Once again, Bill darted out from behind cover and launched a pre-emptive strike. He cast the same cutting curse that had made a messy end of the first Eater, but this time the curse was deflected with ease, and the robed figure continued striding towards him. Undeterred, Bill stepped to the side and gripped his wand securely, his next spell on the tip of his tongue. Before he could cast, the intruder got close enough for Bill to get a clear look at him, and his incantation died in his throat.

The Dark Lord was walking towards him, his red eyes shining and his unnatural snake-like face twisted in a grotesque grin.

"Not bad," Voldemort said, nodding in Bill's direction. "You didn't waste time with silly disarming spells, at least, which is more than I can say for most of the fools I've crossed wands with over the years. Unfortunately for you, it's going to take quite a bit more than that to get the better of me."

Bill shook himself out of his stupor and pointed his wand at the Dark Lord, but with one simple careless wave of Voldemort's wand, he was forced to his knees. He tried to train his wand on Voldemort in order to fire off a hex, but found that he no longer had any control of his body. Voldemort slowly walked up to him and casually took the wand from his hand, shaking his head.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow that, but I admire your spirit. What is your name?" Voldemort asked, inspecting Bill's wand and not even looking at him.

"Bill Weasley," he replied, doing his best to sound calm, collected and defiant. The Dark Lord's unnatural eyes narrowed as he gave him his name.

"Ah, one of Arthur Weasley's brood? I should have suspected. It is rather unfortunate that your family has betrayed true wizards in order to side with the dregs of magical society. Even more unfortunate that your youngest brother has become so attached to Harry Potter. But it is not too late for you, Bill Weasley."

"What do you mean?" Bill said slowly, nonplussed.

"Your family may be blood traitors, and your brother may be Harry Potter's best friend. But you are not your ancestors, nor are you your brother. You showed great courage in standing up to me, and judging by the pair of corpses littering this very room, you have ample knowledge and power as well. I could use more men like you, Bill Weasley. Join me, and help me give this decaying world the revolution it sorely needs."

"You want me to become a Death Eater," Bill said, more to himself than anything, hardly believing that the words had come out of his mouth.

"Of course," Voldemort said, nodding. "Our world is in a dire state, and you should know that better than most. It must bring you great shame to work here at Gringotts, having to bow your head to these filthy goblins. Wouldn't you like to remind them of their proper role-servitude?"

"Servitude? Like house elves, you mean?"

"They won't be given the same tasks to accomplish, but yes," Voldemort agreed. "A bit of that elvish devotion will make the goblins far more useful. Once I have taken this country over, I will put them in their place."

"So I guess you think all non-humans should spend their lives as slaves, doing all they can to please their human masters?" Bill said, his face turning red with anger.

"Why, yes," Voldemort said, either not noticing the look on Bill's face, or simply not caring. "What else are they good for?"

Bill's eyes flashed, but Voldemort had already turned away from him as a witch approached. She removed her mask, and Bill could make out enough of her features from his vantage point over the Dark Lord's shoulder to recognize her as Bellatrix Lestrange, the psychotic witch that had killed Sirius Black. Bellatrix began conversing with her master, but they were speaking too quietly for Bill to understand. With this time to himself, Bill eventually noticed that he had full control of his body once more, and he briefly entertained the idea of attacking Voldemort while his attention was diverted. But with his wand in Voldemort's possession and no other weapon readily available to him, he knew that it would be a futile act.

"What about veela?" Bill asked, raising his voice loud enough to be sure Voldemort could hear him despite his conversation with Bellatrix.

"What's that? Veela, you say?" Voldemort said, sounding bored and not bothering to turn back around to look at Bill. "I've never had much use for them myself, but I suppose they serve their purpose well enough. They were a very popular form of entertainment amongst my followers during our previous revolution, even if I never saw the appeal. Why? Would you like one, Weasley?"

"Would I like one?" Bill repeated, seething.

"Yes. One to warm your bed, perhaps? I shall make you a deal: join me, and the first veela we capture will be yours to do with as you please."

Wand or no wand, there was no way Bill could restrain himself after a comment like that. He rose to his feet and lunged at the Dark Lord from behind, hoping to catch him by surprise before he or Bellatrix could get a spell off. He closed the gap quickly and narrowed his eyes, zeroed in on the back of Voldemort's head, envisioned grabbing it in his hands and snapping his neck before the Dark Lord even knew what was happening...

And then, almost too quickly for Bill's eyes to follow, Voldemort turned. The Dark Lord raised his wand, and with one casual flick of the wrist, a wedding was cancelled.

-NMM-

By the time Albus Dumbledore returned to his office, it was too late to do anything to counteract Lord Voldemort's swift strike on Diagon Alley, and more specifically Gringotts. All that was left for him to do was assess the damage.

He wasn't sure if it had been Voldemort's intention for him to learn about the assault on the Granger home, or if it had just been a coincidence, but it had worked to the Dark Lord's favour in any case. With Dumbledore out of the picture and his staff and the aurors Fudge had loaned him busy ensuring that the students made it back from Hogsmeade safely, it had fallen solely to the remainder of the auror department to respond to the attack. Unfortunately, that department had been sorely neglected and underfunded during the bulk of Minister Fudge's reign. With that problem compounded by some of their best being stationed in Hogsmeade for the day, they were no match for such a sudden and overwhelming assault. The Death Eaters managed to strike their true target, and strike it hard.

The brunt of the attack had been aimed straight at Gringotts, and with good reason. The managers at Gringotts remembered full well how much damage Voldemort's last war had done to both the economy and their own bottom line, and had no desire to see history repeat itself. Thus, once Voldemort's return had become public knowledge, the goblins had begun instituting radical new measures that financially handcuffed anyone found to be willingly serving the Dark Lord. Following his arrest in the Department of Mysteries, Lucius Malfoy had been hit hard by these measures. This served as a deterrent to some of Voldemort's other wealthy followers, to say nothing of the fact that with Lucius' funds unavailable to him, the Dark Lord had lost his single biggest source of gold.

Despite his rhetoric about blood purity and wizards holding dominion over all, Tom Riddle was too intelligent not to realise that for many of his followers, there was no greater motivation than avarice. Now he had gold aplenty-possibly even more than he'd had at his disposal in the last war. He didn't have a bank to put it in, perhaps, but Albus didn't think he would need one. No, that gold was going to be put to immediate use.

Dumbledore suspected that the Dark Lord was about to significantly bolster his ranks.

-NMM-

"Rise, Severus."

Snape got up off of his knees and back onto his feet, making sure that his head remained bowed in deference.

"So, Severus, I see that you have returned as commanded. And yet, Charles Goyle is not with you. Would you care to explain his absence?"

"My Lord," he began, eyes fixed on the floor, "I am afraid that our task was not completed as planned."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"When we arrived at the muggles' home, Goyle was a bit...overeager, shall we say? He set some curtains on fire, but he had no control over the flames. They quickly grew out of control and spread throughout the house. I was forced to abort the mission and apparate away. Goyle was not so lucky."

"I see," the Dark Lord said, his mood impossible for Snape to read. "We both know that Goyle was an incompetent fool, so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Were the mudblood's parents engulfed in the fire as well, at least?"

"I'm not sure, My Lord. The flames spread before we could locate them, or confirm they were indeed inside the house. I offer my profound apologies for my failure, and am prepared to accept any punishment you deem appropriate," Snape finished, bowing his head even closer to the ground.

"That will not be necessary, Severus," Voldemort said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Your mission was hardly an essential one. If the muggles were burned to death, excellent. And even if they weren't, the destruction of their home should still serve as a fitting example to what happens to those who throw in their lot with Dumbledore and Potter."

"That is most kind, My Lord," Snape said, surprised at how little his revelation seemed to bother the Dark Lord.

"Think nothing of it. Despite your failure, the day was still most successful. Our assault on Gringotts was flawless," Voldemort said with a twisted grin.

"Gringotts? So that was the true objective?" Snape questioned.

"Yes," Voldemort confirmed. "Those disgusting goblins have been quite a nuisance since Lucius failed me in the Department of Mysteries. Thankfully, that will no longer be a concern. We left the bank with enough gold to fund our revolution indefinitely."

"That is very good news, My Lord," Snape agreed. "I offer my congratulations on your success. However, if I may be so bold...why was I not informed of the full extent of your plan?"

"You--" Bellatrix snarled from beside her master, but Voldemort beckoned for her to be quiet. Like an obedient animal, Bellatrix immediately fell silent.

"Do not misunderstand me, Severus. I do not doubt your loyalty. I simply couldn't risk Dumbledore learning my true target. The old man is crafty, and he may well have been able to weasel the information out of you without you even knowing."

"I understand, My Lord," Snape said, "but why was I not included in the assault on Gringotts once I arrived? Surely the attack would have run even more smoothly had you included me." Voldemort's eyes narrowed, and Snape realised too late that he'd gone a step too far in his efforts to ensure he remained in the loop.

"You were not included because you were not needed, Snape. I judged that we had strength enough to make our mark before leaving with an ample supply of gold, and I was correct," Voldemort said, his voice dangerously low.

"Of course, My Lord, I did not mean--" Snape began, but the Dark Lord cut him off.

"You are one of my most intelligent and cunning followers, so I allow you to speak more freely than most," Voldemort explained. "However, openly doubting my planning and decision-making in the manner you just did will not be tolerated. I trust that you will keep this in mind in the future, because I would hate to have to remind you again. I'm sure you would hate it, too," he added, and Snape had no trouble grasping the thinly veiled threat.

"Indeed, My Lord," Snape said, dropping back down to his knees and bowing so low that his face touched the floor. "My deepest apologies. It will not happen again, I assure you."

Snape paused, head against the cold floor, and waited for the Dark Lord to reply. He heard Bellatrix cackling at his dilemma, but knew better than to respond at this point. All that mattered was recovering from his faux pas and redeeming himself in the Dark Lord's eyes. He was of no use to anyone otherwise, least of all himself.

"Very well, Severus. See that it doesn't happen again," Voldemort said at last. "You are dismissed."

Snape exhaled, slowly pulled himself to his feet and departed, counting himself fortunate that he'd avoided the Cruciatus.

-NMM-

With everyone having been rushed back from Hogsmeade and straight to their common rooms, the corridors of Hogwarts were virtually deserted as Harry and Hermione slowly walked hand in hand to Gryffindor Tower. They walked in silence, their footsteps all that could be heard in the empty halls.

"Dumbledore better tell us the second he hears something about your parents," Harry said, his tone equal parts anger and worry.

"He will," Hermione said softly, absent-mindedly running her left hand across her eyes, which were reddened and puffy from crying.

"He didn't tell us about Voldemort and Snape's little chat where they plotted to attack you," Harry pointed out, eyes flashing at the memory. Hermione acknowledged this point with a nod.

"You're right. And we can press him more about that later. But he knows we're going to be waiting anxiously for any news about mum and dad, and he has to know that if he learns something and either hides it or delays in telling us, he'll lose us for good. We both know he can be manipulative and deceitful, but look at this logically, Harry. He has absolutely nothing to gain by being dishonest about this, but everything to lose."

"I guess you're right," Harry conceded, then turned his head to look at her more closely. "Merlin, Hermione, I don't know how you can think straight right now."

"It's not easy," Hermione admitted, and she felt comfortable pressure on her right hand as Harry gave it a sympathetic squeeze.

"I really cant imagine it," Harry continued. "I know how I got when I was worried about Sirius, and I'd only known him for a couple of years. Your parents have always been there for you."

Hermione nodded and blinked rapidly, trying to hold back a fresh batch of tears. She was too choked up to say anything in response, so Harry said nothing further. He let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her close enough for their sides to touch. Hermione sighed and leaned in even closer to him, relishing the comfort of his touch.

They remained like that for the rest of their walk, until they made it to their destination and gave the Fat Lady the password. Harry stepped through the portrait hole and held out his hand to assist Hermione, who accepted it gratefully. Before the portrait had even swung shut behind them, Ron came rushing forward to greet them.

"Where have you guys been?" Ron asked, sounding relieved to see them.

"We were with Dumbledore," Harry said. He shared a significant look with Hermione, and they reached a silent agreement. "Listen, Ron, we've got something to tell you," Harry said quietly. "And Ginny should probably come too," he added.

Ron seemed to sense that this was important, so he nodded in consent. He caught Ginny's eye and motioned for her to follow them, and she did so after sharing a quick kiss with Dean. Together, the four of them went up to the 6^th year boy's dorms, which were otherwise empty, giving them plenty of privacy. Harry sat on his bed, and Hermione sat down next to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

"So what's up?" Ron asked them after he'd made himself comfortable on his own bed. Hermione could hear the uncertainty in his voice, and her throat tightened. She was not looking forward to this. Still, it had to be done, and better they hear it here and now.

"Ron, Ginny, the Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley today," Hermione explained, holding her breath as she waited for her red-haired friends to react.

Ron looked confused at first, but the reality of the situation soon struck him, and his eyes widened. Ginny was quicker to catch on, as she gasped and brought a hand to her mouth.

"Fred and George!" she sobbed, but Harry quickly shook his head.

"We're pretty sure they're OK," Harry assured her. "Their shop wasn't targeted."

Ginny sighed in relief at that, but it didn't take long for her to realise that Harry and Hermione still looked grim. She tensed, waiting for them to elaborate, but it was actually Ron who spoke.

"Gringotts. Bill," he said flatly. Hermione nodded and closed her eyes, unwilling to witness the pain she knew her affirmation would cause. She heard one of the beds creak and reluctantly opened her eyes to see that Ginny had plopped herself down beside Ron, and was instinctively clutching his hand.

"B-Bill...did he..." Ginny began, but Harry shrugged helplessly.

"Dumbledore didn't have any information on injuries or casualties yet," Harry said as gently as he could manage. "They're still sorting out the damage. Gringotts apparently got hit pretty bad though."

Ron nodded, and Hermione's lip quivered at the dazed expression on his face. Looking at Ginny's watering eyes and trembling face wasn't any easier Hermione understood the emotions her red haired friends were experiencing all too well; she was experiencing them herself. It was a cruel sort of torture, not knowing whether someone you love is alive or dead.

"So, did they only attack Gringotts, then?" Ron asked, and Hermione could see that he was keeping his mind busy to prevent himself from panicking.

"They did some damage throughout Diagon Alley, and killed some people who were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the information Dumbledore got said that Gringotts was clearly their target," Harry explained.

"They also burned my house down," Hermione added quietly, and Ron's wide eyes met hers.

"Your parents?" he asked, sounding pained.

"We don't know yet," Harry answered. "We apparated there with Dumbledore, and he said that there wasn't anyone alive in the house. Dumbledore wanted us to get out of there before the firemen showed up, but he's going to let us know as soon as he hears anything. Hopefully they weren't home at the time."

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Ron said as he got up off of his bed. He quickly walked over to Harry's bed and extended his hand to Hermione, who accepted it and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She let out a surprised squeak as Ron, usually so reserved and hesitant to touch her, put his arms around her waist and gave her a hug strong enough to make his mother proud. She returned the embrace tightly, content to both comfort and be comforted by her friend.

Ron's ears reddened as he shot a nervous glance at Harry, and he probably would have let go of Hermione if she hadn't tightened her own grip on him, unwilling to be separated from him just yet. Things had been incredibly awkward between the three of them since she and Harry had become a couple, and she'd missed her friend.

Thankfully, Harry understood perfectly. He raised no objections to the embrace between his best mate and his girlfriend, and in fact rose to join them. Harry wrapped Hermione in his own hug, pressing his chest into her back and resting his head on her shoulder. Hermione sighed, perfectly content to be held by her two boys: her best friend, and her love.

Hermione was familiar with the idea that grief brings people together, and she could feel it happening at that very moment. She didn't yet know if her parents had escaped that fire, or if Ron's brother Bill had been injured or killed during the assault on Gringotts. But she could feel the strained relationship between the trio repairing itself, and she could be thankful for that if nothing else.

Hermione was so caught up in their reconciliation with Ron that she was oblivious to everything else, so it came as quite a shock when someone else cleared their throat to gain their attention. Hermione, startled, spun around to see Professor McGonagall looking at her.

"S-sorry, Professor McGonagall, I didn't hear you come in," Hermione rambled, but her Head of House waived her off.

"Do not worry yourself, Miss Granger. The Headmaster asked me to escort you back to his office," McGonagall said. Hermione gasped, realising that there was likely only one reason Dumbledore would call for her at the moment.

"My parents! Did he say anything? Are they OK?" Hermione asked, rapid-fire, but McGonagall shook her head.

"He did not give me any details, Miss Granger. He merely contacted me via floo and asked me to bring you to him," McGonagall explained patiently.

"I see," Hermione said. "W-would it be alright if Harry and Ron came with me?" she asked, hesitant to face this potentially devastating meeting by herself.

"I don't see why not," McGonagall decided after a moment. "If the Headmaster wishes to speak to you alone, he can always send Mister Potter and Mister Weasley away himself. Now, if you are ready, we can depart."

Hermione nodded, relieved that no matter what happened, her boys would be there beside her.

"Let's go," she said, her voice trembling despite herself. As she stepped forward, she felt Harry grab her right hand, and Ron, after a brief hesitation and an encouraging nod from Harry, took her left. Emboldened by their support, she took a deep breath and steeled herself for what was to come.

A/N: This chapter is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Mother of God, I've actually finished this chapter! Better late than never, right?

I know, I know: it was positively evil of me to leave the Granger parents cliffhanger unresolved after such a long wait. But never fear; their fates will be revealed in the next chapter, I assure you. Now let's just hope it doesn't take me almost nine months to finish THAT one...

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