Harry Potter and the Book of Shadows

Malfoy's Revenge

The rest of the week passed with a sense of tense expectation. For most students, it was due to the Hogsmeade visit scheduled for the upcoming Saturday, but for Harry and his friends, it was fear of Malfoy's retaliation against Hermione. While the rest of the school had definitely heard about Hermione's remark, even if they hadn't seen it first hand, Harry and Ron were relieved to find no one was talking about it openly. That wasn't to say no one was talking about it at all, quite the opposite, there were whispers everywhere, but so far no one had been caught saying anything where Malfoy or any other Slytherin would hear and retaliate. It had become a vast, yet unspoken, in-joke found only in the silent undercurrents of the school.

In the following days, Harry had overheard several conversations he was almost positive had several veiled references to Hermione's verbal take-down, but it had somehow become a subtle private joke between groups, each with their own code for the incident. Even he couldn't be sure it was indeed what they were talking about. There was only one instance where he was sure the group of Hufflepuffs had been talking about it, when he caught one of them saying, "Well, it's hard for the apple to fall far from the tree when all the branches are vertical, right?" The group had dissolved into laughter after that, and while Harry thought it rather funny as well, he was thankful no flashes of green were anywhere nearby.

Still, though Malfoy seemed indifferent whenever they saw him in lessons, and made no overt hostile moves toward her, Harry, Ron and Ginny were sure he and his cronies were going to try to get even somehow. By Friday, they had concluded he was either planning something truly horrific, or was content to do nothing and just enjoy watching them work themselves up over their own imaginations. The latter was Hermione's suggestion, and while Harry granted it was a brilliant idea, he had to agree with Ron that while Hermione might be that subtle, Malfoy was not. So they waited, trying to anticipate what Malfoy might attempt and when.

By the time Harry and Ron were heading down to the dungeons for potions tutoring on Friday evening, Ron was thoroughly frustrated with the whole situation.

"I think Mione was right," Ron said. "Malfoy's not actually planning anything. I bet he's satisfied with just watching us work ourselves up just trying to figure out what he's going to do."

Harry was starting to wonder himself. "Maybe he's planning something for the Hogsmeade visit."

Ron sighed. They'd had this conversation a hundred times since the weekend. "Or after, if he needs to get something for his plan."

They dropped it as they entered the tutoring classroom. Persephone greeted them as they sat. When the last of the stragglers arrived, Persephone began.

"This will be the last tutoring before the holidays." Several unhappy noises accompanied the announcement, but Persephone waved them off. "We'll start again when everyone is back. For this last lesson, I thought we'd try our hands at something simple, yet interesting. It also makes a great gift."

With a wave of her wand, instructions for something called 'Persephone's Purely Pleasing Polish' appeared on the board.

There were numerous confused looks passed and some quiet murmurs.

"Polish?" Ron asked in a low tone. "She thinks cleaning supplies make a good gift? I think she's been hanging out in Filch's supply closet too long."

Harry swallowed the snicker that wanted to escape. Persephone continued, "This body scrub," she looked at Ron pointedly, "is unique in that it not only acts like a normal cleansing soap, it also tones the skin and leaves you with a feeling of extreme relaxation and contentment."

The girl with brown pigtails, Harry still didn't know her name, raised her hand. "There must be a hundred soaps and things like that. Even Muggles have them. What's so special about this one?"

Persephone just smiled. "You'll see."

The soap scrub itself was relatively simple to make. Harry thought it definitely wasn't one of the more challenging things they had done, but that in itself was a bit of a relief. There were several options of cleansing herbs to try, and Harry randomly selected a few, Ron choosing a different combination. When they had finished extracting and concentrating the plant essences they'd chosen, he and Ron applied cooling charms until the liquids thickened slightly. Then they combined the rest of their ingredients, cooling them further until a sort of thick gel had formed. Finally, they added in what they had been surprised to learn was no more than refined white sugar, combining the ingredients thoroughly.

Ron looked into his glass bowl and sniffed. "Doesn't really smell like anything. What's so great about this, again?"

Harry tried rubbing a bit on the back of his hand and rinsing it with a bit of water he produced from the tip of his wand. Wiping it dry on his robes, Harry felt the back of his hand and shrugged. "Feels kinda smooth, I guess."

"Everyone finished?" Persephone addressed the class. When they all replied in the affirmative, she withdrew a small vessel from a pocket of her robes, containing a pearly white liquid. She carefully unscrewed the top and withdrew a small dropper. At each table, she added two drops of the shimmery liquid to the sugar scrub. Each time, a single spiral curl of white spun upwards as the student mixed the unknown ingredient in.

Ron looked at her quizzically when she added the drops to his bowl. "What's this?"

"Just a perfume," Persephone said.

Harry dutifully stirred the perfume in, leaning closer to see what it smelled like, hoping it wouldn't smell as horribly cloying as the type his Aunt Petunia wore for important occasions. Breathing in cautiously, he decided it smelled like... definitely something familiar, but pleasant. He breathed deeper, trying to place it. It was almost like the fresh grass of the Quidditch pitch but also something else kind of woody and something that smelled flowery, not unlike Ginny's shampoo. Overall, Harry decided it smelled like something altogether wonderful and indeed, the scent did leave him feeling with a rather content feeling. He exchanged looks with Ron and wondered, since he had used different ingredients, if his smelled as good. Without a word, they traded bowls and Harry found that Ron's smelled exactly the same.

"I wonder what kind of perfume that was," Ron said. "Smells a bit like Hermione's shampoo."

Harry's eyebrows drew together. "I didn't know Ginny and Hermione used the same soap."

Ron thought for a moment and then shrugged. "Never really thought about it until now."

They both wondered at Persephone's half-smile when they went to choose two decorative jars each to keep their final products in from the selection she had brought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Harry awoke refreshed after a restful night's sleep, unable to recall the last time he'd slept so well. Since he had two jars of the soap he'd made, he thought it wouldn't hurt to try a bit out before deciding who to give it to. He hadn't used much, not wanting it to be obvious there was some missing, but even so, the fragrance of the soap remained long after he'd returned to the common room and finally gone to bed. Even with the worries about Hermione, their last occlumency practice with Ron, and the Book of Shadows in the back of his mind, for once Harry found himself able to push everything aside and simply relax and drift off into a peaceful sleep.

By morning, the scent had long since worn off, though the tranquil night left him feeling much more rested than usual. As he lay in bed, enjoying the rare feeling of calm, Harry found himself considering who he could give the soap to as a gift. Aunt Petunia certainly wouldn't appreciate it, much less use it, and Harry assumed Ron already planned on giving one of his to Mrs. Weasley. The only other people he could think of who might like it were Hermione and Ginny, but Harry thought Ron might be having the same ideas. Figuring he would just ask Ron and give one to whichever of them Ron didn't give his to, Harry got up and dressed.

He met Ron and Hermione in the common room, and they all headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron had just asked Hermione where Ginny was when they spotted her further down the Gryffindor table, chatting animatedly with Julian. Remembering she wasn't going to Hogsmeade with them, Harry felt his earlier good mood evaporate. He sullenly poked at his eggs as Ron and Hermione discussed where they wanted to go once they got there.

"So Flourish and Blotts, Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Honeydukes, definitely. And of course, a visit to your brothers. After all that we'll probably want something at the Three Broomsticks. Aren't we supposed to meet Ginny there, Harry?" When he didn't respond to further prompting, Hermione waved her hand in front of Harry's plate. "Harry?"

"What?" Harry looked up. "Yeah, I wanted to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Are we meeting Ginny at the Three Broomsticks this afternoon?"

Harry shrugged, attempting to seem unconcerned. "She mentioned it. You were there."

Ron got up. "Come on, I want to get to Quality Quidditch before it gets too crowded."

Flich stood by the door as usual, checking names off a long scroll of parchment. Having seen his yearbook picture, Harry couldn't help but stop and squint a bit in an attempt to reconcile the young man in the photograph with the grizzled caretaker who now stood scowling at him. Unable to, Harry stepped out into the cold December air with an inward shrug, following the line of students tramping a fresh path through the snow toward Hogsmeade.

Harry felt an odd sensation as they walked down the High Road. Though there were decorations gracing almost every doorway and sign, there was a subdued air blanketing the small town. Even sound seemed to be dampened, though Harry told himself it was just the new snow muffling things. Everything seemed cheerful and bright on the outside, but there was an underlying feeling of...Harry wasn't sure what. Fear? Anxiety? He couldn't place the peculiar oppressive feeling, or even be sure it wasn't just his own worries returning. Most of the students didn't seem to notice as they went in and out of shops, chattering among their groups. Even so, Harry couldn't shake the odd apprehension in the air, as though everyone was waiting for something terrible to happen, like the unnatural calm before a violent storm.

Since no one else seemed bothered, he tried to ignore it, telling himself he was only worried about whatever Malfoy was planning, sure it would happen soon, and most definitely before the holidays. But by the time they'd finished with their browsing through Quality Quidditch Supplies (Ron eyeing a new broom longingly), Honeydukes, a jog into the small magical creatures shop for owl treats, Hermione's excruciatingly long tour of Flourish and Blotts, and headed to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Harry was sure something was wrong. Though he still couldn't say exactly what it was.

The twins' small shop was crammed with students buying various tricks and jokes, either as gifts or to use in the last, somewhat more relaxed days before Hogwarts let out for the holidays. Though obviously busy taking care of their customers, George and Fred greeted the trio enthusiastically when they entered.

"Looks like business has really taken off," Hermione commented as several students bustled past her to peruse the display of trick wands.

Fred grinned. "We even hired extra staff."

He pointed proudly to several young adults dressed in rather unflattering, though certainly holiday-inspired, red and green uniforms who stood behind the counter helping various customers with their purchases.

"Festive aren't they?" George mimicked his brother's grin.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Yes, um, festive."

She elbowed Ron who stood just behind her trying not to laugh. The twins excused themselves, helping their new employees to refill shelves that had emptied with surprising speed. Harry wandered around, attempting to get into the spirit like everyone else. Staring unseeing at a shelf full of the ever-popular Skiving Snackboxes, Harry jumped when he felt someone jab him in the arm.

Harry turned, surprised to see George looking at him with concern. "Something wrong, Harry?"

Surprised by the unusual seriousness in his tone, Harry decided to ask George about the strange sense of foreboding he had felt upon entering Hogsmeade. Surely if he and Fred spent the majority of their time in the town, they'd have noticed it, too? He checked to make sure no one within earshot was paying attention.

Lowering his voice, Harry said, "I don't know. Something just feels...off."

"So you noticed it, too." George nodded. With a quick motion, he pulled Harry through the small doorway into the tiny back room. "Figured you would. Whole town's been like this for weeks, like everyone's waiting for something to happen."

"What's going on? Is it Volde-"

"Sssssh!" George slapped his hand over Harry's mouth, then snatched it back abruptly, wiping his palm on his shirt. "Sorry. Don't say it. Have you been keeping up with the Daily Prophet?"

Harry realized that he hadn't so much as glanced at one all year. He shook his head, expecting George to look at the very least, disapproving, but he just shrugged.

"Probably wouldn't have made a difference anyhow, Ministry's kept a tight lid on it all so far. Well, with Dad and the-" George stopped and glanced around, lowering his voice even further, "Well, you know who I mean. Thanks to them, Fred and I know a bit more than what the papers say. The Ministry's a mess. Rumors have been leaking out all over. Of course, that interview you did with the Quibbler has been circulating around ever since last year- Ministry's still trying to make that out to be just as much trash as their usual stuff- but this time people are wondering. Fudge knows the truth, of course. Trying to keep it all hush-hush, though I can't imagine why. Should be preparing everyone for...well, whatever might happen, I suppose. And something's going to happen soon, everyone can feel it, despite what the Ministry says."

Harry, who had spent so much time and effort trying to avoid thinking of what had happened in June, suddenly thought of something. "Wait a minute! The Daily Prophet had tons of papers out right when term ended where Fudge said Dumbledore was right! That Volde-" George shushed him again and drew him further into the back room and away from the shop full of students. Harry continued fervently, though he lowered his voice, "that Voldemort really was back. They were going to send out pamphlets and everything! We even read about it on the train home!" Harry realized that was probably the last time he'd looked at the Daily Prophet, and because of this, what George said next came as quite a shock.

George gaped at him in surprise. "You really haven't been following the Prophet, have you? They printed a retraction a week later! Of course, by then everyone was all worked up and preparing for it to be like the last time You-Know-Who was gaining power."

Harry stared back in openmouthed shock. "Well, what happened, then? People just heard Fudge say 'oh, we were wrong- Dumbledore and Potter really did make it all up and everything's all right, sorry for the false alarm'?" Harry asked incredulously. George's expression told him that was, in a nutshell, exactly what had happened. "You can't be serious! And people believed that?"

George shrugged helplessly. "Everyone was terrified when that first paper came out. When news that it might not be true followed that quickly, well, a lot of people didn't want to believe it to begin with. Of course, a lot of people didn't know what to believe. So now there's been a bit more 'better safe than sorry' feeling going around and people are more willing to listen to rumors that You-Know-Who really is back. I know lots of people saved that week's worth of papers with the defensive tips and things in them, just in case." George paused. "But really, until there's real Ministry support behind us or some real proof," Harry shook his head, knowing the kind of proof George was talking about, "I don't think most people will face the truth. It's been a very quiet summer, after all."

"What is Fudge waiting for, then?" Harry asked heatedly. "He knows! He was there! Has he gone mad?"

George put up his hands defensively. "Don't yell at me, mate! I don't know what's going on in Fudge's head. Dad reckons the Ministry is working on some sort of plan to fight You-Know-Who. After all, they can't ignore he's come back now, but Dad thinks Fudge is waiting until they actually catch him or have a really good handle on things before they announce what's really going on. As long as You-Know-Who and his supporters are laying low and not making any trouble, the Ministry is happy to let people go on thinking everything is fine."

"But everything is not fine!" Harry exclaimed loudly.

Motioning for him to calm down, George said, "I know that! But no one at the Ministry wants people to know what kind of a mess they've made of things. People would panic."

"What about the dementors leaving Azkaban? People can't ignore that. Fudge didn't make out like they'd come back, did he?" Harry asked.

George sighed. "The Ministry's been having problems with the dementors for a long time. They haven't been happy there with only the prisoners to drain the happiness out of. They've wanted loose for years. A lot of people said it wasn't much of a surprise, You-Know-Who returned or not."

Harry stared. "It sounds like Fudge is covering up just to protect his image!"

"Does that really surprise you after what happened last year?" George asked. Harry had to admit George was right. "Well, at least Fudge has kept out of Hogwarts and is giving Dumbledore free rein, though I know Umbridge put up a fuss about it. At least he's got some brains left." George gave Harry an odd look. "You really didn't know about any of this?"

Harry shook his head. "No. I mean, all right I should have been keeping up, but so what?"

Shifting uncomfortably, George said, "Well, we all thought that was mostly why you were acting so...well, you know."

Harry glowered. "You all been having talks about me again, then?"

George gave him a hard look. "Now don't start that again. We were all just worried after... and you sure didn't seem to want to talk to any of us about it. We thought you knew and the Ministry taking it all back was what suddenly made it all worse, especially after Lupin-" he broke off, and Harry sensed he felt he'd said too much.

"What?" Harry asked sharply. Had Lupin said something about him, about blaming him for what had happened? "After Lupin what?"

George just shook his head. "Not my place to say. You'll find out during break."

Harry glared, but decided he would rather hear it from Lupin himself in the privacy of Grimmauld Place, and not from George in a magical joke shop only a few feet away from a chattering crowd of Hogwarts students. He pushed it out of his mind again. "You'll be at, uh, you know where for Christmas, right?"

George resumed his usual sunny smile, though Harry could see it didn't quite reach his eyes, as he ushered Harry back out into the store. "Well, Fred and I won't be staying, but we'll be sure to pop in now and again while you're all there."

Fred waved them over to where he, Hermione, and Ron had found a bit of space to chat, Ron recounting his last harrowing battle with Emma Witherspoon for the Black Wand. Glad for the distraction, Harry tried to forget the conversation he'd just had. Listening to his account, Harry was almost surprised to find that Ron hadn't added any embellishments. Though, after a moment's consideration, he supposed it was a good enough story on its own.

"Harry'll tell you," Ron said, grinning as Harry joined them. "Nearly got me a few times, didn't she?"

Harry nodded, smiling back at Ron, trying to switch gears and act normally. So that's what that game was all about. Dumbledore was keen to train us all up in defense. "That last dive from out behind the statue, I thought you were mad. Worked, though." Harry turned to Fred. "I thought she'd get him for sure, but he surprised her so much, coming out from behind good cover like that, he got her first, dead-on. It was brilliant."

Ron glowed under the praise. Fred looked mildly surprised that Ron hadn't been making at least part of it up. "Dorm Assassin, huh? Odd name for it. I'd call it House Assassin." His face took on a mock sulky look. "How come we never got to have fun like that?"

Hermione snorted. "I think you two made up enough fun on your own."

The twins looked around their bustling shop proudly and exchanged a grin, "I guess we did," they said in unison, then laughed.

Laughing with them, Harry had to admit that he felt a slightly better, knowing more about what was going on, though he turned a deaf ear to the small voice chastising himself for ignoring everything for so long. He also pushed aside the frustration that, even in light of everything that had happened, not everyone believed Voldemort was back.

Leaving the joke shop, the trio tromped toward the Three Broomsticks, ready for a rest. They settled in a booth near one of the front windows, each clasping a warm mug of butterbeer. Just as he was wondering if Ginny would be able to find them in the noisy crowd, or if she even planned on coming, the bell above the entry jangled, heralding the entrance of another pack of students. Ginny's bright red hair was unmistakable. Harry was about to call out when he noticed that Julian was among the group she had come in with. Ginny looked up at Julian and said something, playfully swatting his arm when he laughed back. Harry plastered on a smile when she spotted their table, waved, and made her way over to sit with them.

"Busy morning?" Hermione greeted her.

Ginny plopped down next to Harry with a grin. "Yeah. I got almost all of my Christmas shopping done."

Ron eyed her empty hands. "Going with an invisible theme this year?"

Ginny shot him a withering look, but couldn't hold back her grin. "I had it delivered to the house. That way I don't have to lug it all back to the castle." She leaned toward Harry and added in a secretive whisper, "And I won't ruin the surprise."

"The house?" Ron asked in a tone that told Harry which house he was thinking of. "Do you really think that's a good-"

Ginny rolled her eyes and cut him off. "Our house, Ron."

"Don't they normally charge extra for that?" Ron asked suspiciously. Harry felt the usual sinking in his stomach whenever he was reminded how the Weasleys had to struggle to make ends meet.

Ginny just smiled unconcernedly and took a sip from her butterbeer. "Usually."

They chatted easily as the butterbeer warmed them up, Harry pushing aside his earlier concerns, telling himself it wouldn't do him any good to worry about it now. Soon enough, they were refreshed and ready to head back out. As they left, Ginny waved to Julian, who was sitting with a few tables back from the doorway, a bunch of Gryffindor fifth years. Harry made a show of acting completely unconcerned with the whole display.

"Where to next?" Hermione asked, tightening her scarf around her neck, once they were outside. A cold wind had picked up, ushering ominous looking snow clouds along.

Ginny struggled with her own scarf, the ends of which had tangled behind her. "I'm done with where I needed to go."

Ron said, "I still need to go to the Apothecary."

Harry shrugged. "I don't really need anything, but I'll go with you."

Hermione nodded in agreement and the four headed off, Ginny still struggling to untangle her scarf. Stopping so she caught up to him, Harry gently tugged Ginny to a halt and straightened out the maroon wool. She thanked him as she rewound the scarf around her neck. As she did, Harry couldn't help but notice it clashed horribly with her hair. Seeing his look, Ginny smiled ruefully.

"I know, but Mum made it." They walked on, hurrying to catch up with Ron and Hermione as another frigid wind blew past. "It's warm, at least."

They split up after entering the warm and unusual smelling interior of the apothecary, Ron making a beeline for the aisle containing the ingredients he needed. Harry ambled along after him, while Hermione and Ginny wandered off in the opposite direction.

Grabbing a few packets of dried bladderwort, Ron glanced behind Harry and, seeing the girls were not following as well, asked in a low voice, "Hey, who're you giving your soap stuff to?"

Harry had forgotten about his dilemma, and silently thanked Ron for bringing it up. "I dunno. Definitely not Aunt Petunia."

"Well, I was going to give one to mum, and the other to Ginny, but then I thought Mione might like it, too. Have you tried it?" Ron asked suddenly. When Harry nodded enthusiastically, Ron smiled back. "Great isn't it? I used a little bit last night. Almost want to keep one for myself. Not sure about smelling like girls' soap, though."

"I can give one of mine to Ginny," Harry offered, then quickly added, "or Hermione."

Ron brightened. "Yeah, that'll work. I'll give mine to mum and Mione, and you can give one to Ginny. Who do you think you'll give the other one to?" Ron's expression turned sly. "Cho Chang, maybe?"

Harry tried to keep the scowl he felt from making its way to his face. Right around this time last year, he'd kissed her for the first time under the mistletoe in the Room of Requirement. It had all been downhill from there. "That was a disaster from the start."

Ron clearly heard the tone that said to drop it and cleared his throat. He held up the packets. "Well, I'm all set here."

They rounded up the girls, and Ron made his purchase. As they made their way back to Hogwarts, large wet snowflakes began to fall.

They'd joined a small group of students in front of the large oak entry doors of Hogwarts, waiting impatiently in the rapidly worsening snowfall as the bottleneck through the doorway slowed everyone down. Once inside the welcoming warm of the entryway, they saw the suits of armor that had once been enchanted to sing Christmas carols during the Triwizard Tournament had been moved to stand next to the entrance to the Great Hall. Harry exchanged a glance with the others, wondering if, now that Peeves was once again free, he'd be slipping in his well-known lyrics in the places where the armor always seemed to forget the words.

The tinny voice had just reached the second verse of 'O Come All Ye Faithful', of which Harry knew for sure it didn't know the lyrics. Several students stopped, hoping to hear what no one wanted to admit was Peeves' rather amusing version of the popular carol. But instead of Peeves, a female voice began, filling in the proper lyrics as the enchanted armor's singing trailed off uncertainly.

Looking around as the song continued, Harry saw Persephone directing bunches of greenery toward various points on the archways around Hogwarts' cavernous foyer, singing as she did so, obviously unaware of the small throng of students behind her. When they broke into applause as she finished, she turned around, a surprised blush creeping up her face. Her smile faded when she caught sight of something in the doorway to the Great Hall. Turning, Harry and the other students who had gathered saw Filch watching his niece with an odd, unreadable expression. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"That was her favorite, yeh know," Filch said gruffly, after a moment.

Persephone's expression remained guarded, but she nodded slightly. "I know."

Silently, she went back to her task as Filch turned and made his way up the stone staircase. The students who had seen the odd exchange spoke quietly as they broke into groups and headed back to their dormitories. As the foursome headed up the staircase themselves, Ron wondered aloud who Persephone and Filch had been talking about.

"Her mother, I'd guess," Hermione replied.

When they heard the distinctive click of purposeful footsteps headed their way, the foursome looked up. Professor McGonagall was striding toward them, an extremely distressed look on her face.

"Thank goodness," she said upon spotting them. "Miss Granger, I need you to come with me immediately."

Harry felt his heart drop into his stomach. Ron's face paled. They shot a quick look at each other. McGonagall's expression told them something was clearly very wrong. Had Malfoy told her something about Hermione? Was she in trouble? With a nervous look at the other three, Hermione took a step toward Professor McGonagall. Ron followed.

Professor McGonagall frowned, but nodded. "Yes, perhaps you had better come too, Weasley."

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look and were about to follow as McGonagall spun around and strode back the way she had come, Ron and Hermione hurrying to keep up.

Harry looked to Ginny. "I suppose we'll just wait for them in the common room, then."

Not able to hide their worried looks, Harry and Ginny hurried back to Gryffindor tower, hoping whatever it was wasn't serious.

Those hopes were dashed the second Hermione and Ron walked back into the common room. Ron's face was pale and drawn. He had one arm around Hermione's waist, the other gripping her opposite hand, as though he'd had to hold her up the whole way from McGonagall's office to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione looked stricken, her face white as a sheet, her eyes large and terrified. Harry and Ginny jumped to their feet.

"What happened?" Harry exclaimed.

Ron steered Hermione toward the couch in front of the fire, thankful the common room wasn't particularly crowded. Hermione sat, Ron still with one arm around her, and they could see she was shaking.

Ginny sat on her other side. "Hermione, what is it? What's happened?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but couldn't seem to form any words. After a moment she managed, "My-m-m-my p-p-parents..."

And as though it had finally sunk in, she burst into loud sobs, tears streaming down her face and turned to Ron, who held her tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder.

Harry's heart stopped. "They're not-" he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Ron, still pale, shook his head. "No. Not that. Arrested."

Confused, Harry squeezed onto the sofa between Ginny, who was patting Hermione's back and murmuring soothing words, and the armrest. Harry wasn't sure what Ron meant. "Arrested? By the Muggle police?" He couldn't imagine who else would have, as Hermione's parents were Muggles.

Shaking his head miserably, Ron said, "Aurors. They're," he took a breath as Hermione continued to sob uncontrollably, "they're in Azkaban."

"What?" Ginny and Harry exclaimed in unison.

Harry blinked in disbelief. "But they're Muggles!"

"What's the charge?" Ginny demanded to know.

"Conspiracy to reveal the nature of the wizarding world," Ginny snorted but Ron continued, "and conspiracy to commit hostile acts against the Ministry of Magic."

Ginny's face grew pale at the second charge. Harry, unfamiliar with wizarding laws, except those applying to underage magic, sensed the second charge was by far more serious than the first. "What does that mean?"

Ginny continued to pat Hermione's back. "Well, the first- revealing the nature of the wizarding world- it's not that bad, gets thrown out most of the time. Who would believe some Muggle going on about wizards and magic, anyhow? Half the time the Ministry lets them babble on about it since it acts as a nice shield for what's really happening. You've seen all the nonsense Muggles come up with about magic. No one believes the truth even when it does filter in." Her expression darkened. "But conspiracy to commit hostile acts against the Ministry, that's a serious offense no matter who's Minister of Magic. If they can prove they were thinking of acting against the Ministry, especially now..." Ginny trailed off.

"What?" Harry prodded. "What'll happen?"

Ron looked distraught, "Well, it depends. Anything from a term in Azkaban to having their memories modified so Hermione wouldn't have to quit school."

"Why don't they do that, then? Just modify their memories. That's not so bad," Harry asked.

Hermione sobbed louder. Ron squeezed her reassuringly but looked up at Harry with a distressed look. "It might not be so bad for them, they wouldn't know their memories had been changed. But they wouldn't remember they'd had a witch for a daughter, either."

Harry opened his mouth to ask why that was so bad when Ron's implication sunk in. It wasn't that Hermione would have to hide her magical ability from her parents after the modification, because they wouldn't remember they'd had a daughter at all.

"This was Malfoy's doing wasn't it?" Harry felt rage rising. "She attacked his family and this was him attacking hers back."

Ron didn't answer, merely holding Hermione, her noisy sobs slowing to the occasional hiccup.

Ginny said reassuringly, "Don't worry, Mione, I'm sure once they realize your parents are Muggles and not planning anything, they'll be back home safe and sound. They'll just use some Veritaserum or something and everything will be fine."

"Why were they sent to Azkaban, anyway?" Harry asked. "Is that usually what they do?"

Ginny answered this time, "Well, not for things like saying you're going to tell the world about wizards. But the other one, well, especially now with the Ministry trying to keep everyone from knowing You-Know-Who is back, they want to seem in control and on top of things. Plus there might be some people who actually believe Hermione's parents are conspiring against the Ministry. It wouldn't be the first time a Muggle-born's parents thought revealing magic would bring them wealth or fame or that the wizarding world was really evil and needed to be stopped. Not that I think for a second that anyone could possibly believe that of your mum and dad, Hermione," Ginny added hastily. "But they'd want to keep them in Azkaban until the hearing, where they know they can't do anything." Ginny turned to Hermione, who still had her face buried in Ron's shoulder, "But as soon as the inquiry is over, they'll be out and back home. It'll be all right, Hermione."

Instead of this reassuring Harry, he thought back to what George had said about the chaotic state of the Ministry. If it really was such a mess and they had Hermione's parents where they knew they couldn't act against them, would their hearing really be a priority? He didn't say it out loud, but he wondered if the Grangers were going to have to endure a lengthy stay in the wizarding prison. Sure, it wouldn't be as bad with the dementors gone, Harry was smart enough not to say that out loud, but still, it wasn't a place he'd want someone he loved to be.

"I'm going to kill Malfoy," Ron growled.

"No!" Everyone looked to Hermione in surprise. She had sat up, her face red and blotchy from crying. She sniffed. "No, you're not going to do anything. We're all going to pretend like nothing has happened and everything is fine."

Ron looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Mione, you're upset-"

"Of course I'm upset!" she exclaimed, wiping at her eyes with the handkerchief Ginny handed her. "But if we try to retaliate or let him know how awful-"she broke off, then sniffed again. "Then he wins! Don't you see? If we act like nothing is wrong, then he won't get the satisfaction of knowing he's hurt me back. I won't let him. And neither will you." She glanced around to where the other Gryffindors who had overheard the whole thing were watching them, unabashedly. "Any of you. No one is to say anything to Malfoy, or his friends. No getting back at them. It's like it never happened. He won't get the satisfaction of thinking he's won, and he'll have no reason to do anything horrible to anyone else. We can't let Malfoy win!"

Harry was stunned at the strength in her voice. Uncertainly, people around the room nodded and turned back to what they were doing. Their stunned surprise at Hermione's announcement left Harry wondering if any of them had even thought to retaliate, especially since he didn't think anyone had the courage to stand up to Malfoy after what he'd just done. Still he had to agree, that keeping everyone from saying how awful it was would only convince Malfoy he had some kind of power, and that was something no one wanted. Her declaration over, Hermione rested her head back against Ron's shoulder, a tear occasionally sliding down her cheek. How difficult it would be for her to act as if nothing was wrong, pretending she wasn't terrified for her parents for any length of time, Harry could only imagine. He and Ginny looked at her with a sort of terrified admiration.

Ron rested his cheek on the top of her head. "You really do belong in Gryffindor, Mione. You really do."

Harry saw a faint smile cross her lips.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of classes on Monday, Harry wondered if anyone had even heard about Hermione's parents' arrest, since everyone seemed to be going about their business as usual. Since his conversation with George, Harry had skimmed the pages of the Prophet every morning, though he wasn't particularly surprised to see nothing of real interest or anything about Voldemort's return. Even though it hadn't been front page news, The Daily Prophet had run an article about the Grangers. Thinking about it during the tedium that was History of Magic, Harry recalled how the breakout of ten Death Eaters from Azkaban the previous year had only been met with a moderate response, and figured two people going in wouldn't disturb most people much. And while Hermione was more well-known after the incident with Malfoy, he considered most students might not assume the people arrested were even related to her. He did, however, wonder if Malfoy had reached the same conclusions. Upon noticing Malfoy's confusion and obvious frustration at Hermione's brilliant act of indifference, Harry guessed probably not.

Hermione's only indication that something might be wrong came Tuesday morning. Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon stopped, not in front of Ron or Ginny, as they expected, but in front of Hermione, as always exceptionally pleased with himself at delivering to the right person. Taking the letter with a worried frown, Hermione's eyes shone with tears as she read.

Ron leaned over, concerned. "Everything all right?"

Hermione sniffed, but smiled bravely and nodded, handing him the letter. A relieved look crossed his face when he read it over, causing Ginny to snatch it as soon as he was done, so she and Harry would be able to read it.

Dear Hermione,

We know what has happened and are working to remedy the situation as quickly as possible. Looking forward to seeing you during the holidays,

Molly and Arthur Weasley

Seeing that Ron's dad, and likely the rest of the Order, were making sure Hermione's parents would not be shunted aside in all the discord at the Ministry left the foursome with a somewhat more relieved feeling. Armed with this support, Hermione found the courage to continue with her plan to thwart Malfoy by acting as though she didn't think anything was wrong at all.

Harry didn't notice a letter had arrived for him as well until the barn owl waiting in front of his plate gave a rather loud and impatient hoot. Once Harry had taken the envelope, the owl flew off, obviously eager to be on its way. Ginny fed Pig bits of toast and bacon as Harry read. She looked at him inquiringly when he folded the letter back up and set it next to his plate.

"One of the professors will walk us down to the Hogwarts gate and then someone from, um," Harry stopped and lowered his voice, "you know, will take us on the Knight Bus to Grimmauld Place. Lupin's still not sure who it'll be yet, but he thinks it'll probably be Tonks or your dad."

The others nodded and everyone turned back to their breakfasts, conversation veering into the usual topics of quidditch and homework. Harry ignored the tension curling in his stomach, not wanting to think about what he would say to Lupin when they were actually talking in the same room instead of exchanging carefully polite letters.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the stress of maintaining the semblance of normalcy in front of Malfoy, Harry couldn't help but feel relieved when the final day of classes before the holidays was over and he was packing his trunk for his stay at Grimmauld Place. He'd spent the week trying to distract himself by helping Hermione find things to keep her busy and away from Malfoy, even going so far as to ask for her help in looking up the past summer's copies of the Daily Prophet in the library so he could read for himself what George had told him. This more than anything else he, Ron, or Ginny had done, seemed to cheer her up, though Harry wasn't quite sure why.

It wasn't until Harry shut the lid to his trunk and locked it, ready to take it down the entryway, that he remembered why he was going to Number Twelve in the first place. The dull sense of dread coiled in the pit of his stomach again and Harry wondered what would happen if he just refused to go.

Ron lugged his trunk down to the common room, calling over his shoulder for Harry to hurry, and so Harry took a deep breath and followed. The front entry was empty when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny and their trunks stopped in the cavernous space, waiting for whoever it was to escort them down to the gate. The students spending the holidays away from Hogwarts were already long gone on the train and those remaining were either in their common rooms or the library waiting for dinner.

Peering around at the high walls, Ginny observed that the decorations were quite lovely that year. She walked over to one of the trees near the Great Hall entry to have a closer look at the fairies who decorated its branches, twittering their sparkly wings.

"So you're all ready, then?"

A voice startled them out of their individual musings. Harry was surprised to see Persephone emerging from the dungeon staircase, wearing what seemed to be a fashionable Muggle shirt with a pair of jeans riding low on her hips beneath a long, fitted black overcoat. With a wave of her wand, their trunks lifted a few feet above the floor, as though eager to be on their way.

"You're taking us to-" Hermione elbowed Ginny in the side, halting her surprised question, though she made it seem like an accident as she shifted Crookshank's basket into a more comfortable position.

"Down to the gate, yes." Persephone smiled. "Have you got everything?"

When everyone replied in the affirmative, Persephone held the door open. Harry and Ron, carrying their owl's cages, led the way, Pigwidgeon hooting excitedly at the prospect of a trip, Harry's cage empty. Hermione followed, holding the basket containing a rather disgruntled Crookshanks. Ginny was the last to pass through, carrying nothing but her wand. Their trunks floated along behind them as they followed the tracks made by the students headed to the train station until they veered off to trail a fresh path toward the Hogwarts gate.

Upon reaching it, they stood just inside, still on the grounds, under the statues of great winged boars, in somewhat awkward silence. Everyone adjusted scarves and buttons as a cold wind whistled past. As the minutes ticked by, Harry could see Persephone growing more and more agitated, throwing expectant looks past the school's gate. The sun was setting, shadows lengthening and the sky darkening with unsettling speed. Harry could see the others exchanging nervous glances. After what felt like hours in the cold December air, Persephone tapped her foot anxiously and checked her watch again, as she had every few seconds for the past few minutes. Needing something to do, Harry checked his own. From the letter Lupin had sent, their Knight Bus escort should have met them ten minutes ago. He met Hermione's apprehensive look.

"That's it. I'm not waiting any longer." Persephone stepped outside the gate and threw out her arm.

Within seconds, a violently purple triple-decker bus appeared with a bang, halting mere inches from Persephone's outstretched hand. The doors opened and a lanky, pimply youth, his uniform the same unfortunate shade as the bus, stepped out.

"Welcome to-"

But Persephone had stepped up, said something Harry didn't catch due to a poorly timed gust of wind, and shoved a handful of coins into his hand. "Can we just be on our way as quickly as possible, please?" When Stan Shunpike just stared at her, she added with a tight smile, "It's rather cold out and we're in a hurry."

Before they could question or argue, Persephone ushered the four of them onto the bus, their luggage finding places among the other bags, boxes, and parcels in the luggage rack on their own. Stan hopped in behind them. As soon as the doors shut, the bus lurched forward.

Caught unaware, Ron was thrown backward as Hermione flew into him, the both of them landing in a heap and sliding down the length of the bus and into the back window. Persephone pitched forward into Harry, causing them to land in a pile next to the squashy armchair Ginny had managed to fall into. The bus continued to tilt and heave as it hurtled onward.

"Sorry, Harry." Persephone breathed out right next to his ear. Sprawled out flat on his back, Harry couldn't move, nor did he dare. She lifted herself up in an attempt to disentangle them from one another, causing Harry to look quickly to the side, suddenly aware and very grateful his glasses seemed to have been knocked off. Don't look there!

As soon as they had gotten to their feet, the bus gave another vicious lurch, sending Harry into Ginny's lap and Persephone into a chair, four chairs down the aisle.

"Sorry, Ginny." Harry scrambled to get into the armchair next to hers before the bus could send them both flying again.

"I caught your glasses," Ginny said, holding them up. One of the earpieces had snapped, but Harry tapped them with his wand, muttered Reparo and put them back on. Risking a look behind them, Harry saw Ron and Hermione had also managed to straighten themselves out and find their way into chairs, though Ron looked decidedly green and Hermione was wincing and rubbing the back of her head.

Harry waited for Stan to exclaim over his appearance on the bus, but he seemed intent on counting the coins Persephone had shoved into his hand. Realizing he hadn't heard Persephone tell the driver where they were going, he looked to where she had landed, a shade of green to rival Ron.

He looked to Ginny with a worried frown. "Does she know where we're going?"

Ginny was gripping the arms of her chair tightly as the bus zoomed around a corner, several dustbins jumping aside as they passed. "Seems like it. Bus is rather empty, don't you think?"

Harry glanced around, there was only one other wizard on their level, a grizzled grey-haired man who looked to be asleep, his head lolling about with every bump and jostle of the bus. Of course, there were undoubtedly other witches and wizards on the other levels, but the relative emptiness of the bus left him with an edgy feeling. They pitched and tilted as trees, lampposts and various other objects leapt out of the way as they whizzed past. A line of lights drew closer as the bus careened toward its destination.

With a sudden jolt, the bus ground to a halt, causing Harry to hurl forward out of his seat and into the aisle. From his vantage on the floor, Harry saw Persephone stand up with obvious relief. "Thank goodness," she muttered, adding in a louder tone, "This is us!"

Harry picked himself up, catching the apprehensive look that passed between Ron and Hermione. Their trunks floated ahead of Persephone down the bus steps. The foursome followed hesitantly, not sure if they were indeed in the right place, Harry having the fleeting thought they should just stay on the bus and go back to Hogwarts.

He felt a slight relief at the sight of the familiar untidy row of houses, as it was clearly Grimmauld Place, but then he wondered how Persephone had known where to take them. She stood facing number ten, her head tilted to one side as if confused, and he suddenly wondered if she would try to take them back to Hogwarts when she couldn't find number twelve. But the house that had once been Sirius' and was, as far as Harry knew, still the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, suddenly appeared out of nowhere, shoving aside its neighbors, looking from the outside, as it always did, a bit dark and foreboding.

The anxiety he'd been feeling since he'd finished packing his trunk, was shifted aside when Persephone turned and ushered them forward, striding purposefully toward the stairs leading up to the front door. But if she could see it, then that meant-

Harry stood on the front porch, exchanging confused looks. Harry started to ask what he knew they were all wondering, "Are you-"

Persephone turned and shushed him. "Quiet!" She rapped three times on the door.

There was the unmistakable sound of locks clicking and a chain sliding against wood. The door opened to reveal a familiar and very welcome sight, though upon seeing them, Remus Lupin looked a bit taken aback.

"Seph?"

"Hey, Remus."