Harry Potter and the Knife of Hephaestus

News traveled fast around Hogwarts School. When Ron & Hermione walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts the next day, the entire class rose to their feet and gave them a standing ovation, one which was quickly silenced by Professor Slayt, a muscle twitching in her cheek.

Everywhere they went, Ron and Hermione got grins, thumbs-up signs, and even the occasional lewd comment. Even Blaise Zabini, who was known for a few under-the-table dealings with Gryffindors (mainly the Weasley twins), approached them with a comment of her own.

"Took ya long enough, eh?" Blaise said, picking up a young Hufflepuff sitting in the library seat across from Hermione and dumping her unceremoniously onto the ground. She was, to put it politely, a character. The school robes she wore were stylishly ripped, and just held together with safety pins, and she often wore Muggle jeans underneath her skirt. Her choice of shoes was usually a pair of well-shined, steel-toed combat boots. During her summers, she traveled anywhere and everywhere, so she had a new way of talking every term. This summer, she had gone to New York, and come back with a Brooklyn accent.

"So, Hermione, ya gonna be Hermione Weasley, or Hermione Granger-Weasley?" Blaise asked, smacking the gum that even Professor Snape had been unsuccessful in getting out of her mouth. Although she wasn't the only Slytherin to talk to Gryffindors, she was the only one to use their first names.

"We've only just--- gotten together!" Hermione sputtered angrily. "I'm not planning on marrying him!"

"Best not to make him wait, girl," Blaise said, winking her catlike brown eyes. "My mam always said it was the quickest way to lose your fella." And with that, she sauntered away, leaving a wide eyed Hermione, bright red Ron, and quietly chuckling Harry behind her.

"I wish they'd just leave us alone," Hermione complained to Harry a few days later in the Three Broomsticks. They were the only people in the small tavern, and Ron was off getting drinks. "I had Lisa Turpin come up to me in Arithmancy today, and she told me we won her thirty sickles. She was betting on my love life!"

"Oh, lighten up, Hermione," Ron had returned, sliding an arm around Hermione's shoulders and a mug of butterbeer to Harry. "They don't mean any harm. And we did take long enough about it." Hermione grinned sheepishly.

At that very moment, the door swung open. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up guiltily: they had snuck out of the castle, and if they were caught, would be in deep trouble.

Thankfully, it wasn't a teacher. Instead, it was three men, two with brown hair, one with black. The black haired man was obviously the leader of the group, the tallest, with blue-green eyes and an arrogant air about him. Ordering three drinks, he cast a nasty glance at the three students, but didn't seem to recognize any of them. Nervously, Harry flattened down his bangs.

The men spoke quietly, but not quietly enough. "Why did you want to come here, Damien?" One of the brown-haired men asked.

"Gods damn it, we don't use our names in public! Remember, Owl?" He sneered the last word, and the brown haired man, (who had unusually large eyes) winced slightly.

"Fine. This code name idea is idiotic, though. Damn that ratty fellow... what's his name? Code names only come up in bad Muggle mystery novels."

"And are you going to tell our Master that?" The other brown haired man spoke up. 'Owl' fell silent. "Hades, what did you need to tell us?"

"I can use my... influence to help along our Master's plan. But I need someone to truly carry out the plan, my influence only goes so far."

"Being a Slayt has its advantages, eh?" Owl smirked.

"Quiet, you fool!" 'Hades' stood, enraged. The other man, who was still unnamed, looked equally furious. Madam Rosmerta looked up from where she was mixing a drink. The brown-haired man gave her a rather forced smile, and turned back to his companions.

"For the last time, keep your voices down," he said angrily. "We can't have anyone finding out about our Master's plan. If this fails, we die."

"Well, you two die, at least, Merlot," Hades smiled nastily. Merlot scowled. "I doubt our Master would kill me."

"Yes, we know, Hades," Merlot said irritatedly. "We'll discuss that particular topic a bit later. In private. Speaking of which---" Merlot glanced at Harry, Ron, and Hermione suspiciously. They hadn't moved or spoken a word since the three men had entered. As Merlot glanced at them, they all turned away.

"You three! There!" Hades said suspiciously. All three men drew their wands. "What are you looking at?" Harry and Ron couldn't move. Thankfully, Hermione's quick thinking saved them all.

"Je suis désolé, je ne parle pas anglais," she said quickly. "Comprenez-vous le français ?"

Hades's face lost its anger, and was quickly replaced with sickly sweetness. He replied in the same language, and Hermione answered smoothly. Harry and Ron were amazed. They had no idea what she was saying, but whatever it was, the three men were eating it up. Merlot said something, and from the tone of his voice it was a question. Hermione, again, answered easily. Then, with a gasp, she babbled something quickly, grabbed Ron's hand and Harry's, and dragged them out of the Three Broomsticks. Once safely away, she leaned against a wall, and breathed heavily. Ron and Harry looked at her in amazement.

"What did you tell him?" Ron demanded. "And what language was that?"

"French," Hermione answered, looking relieved to be away. "I told him that we didn't speak English, that I was Angelique Deruvarez and you were my cousins, Louis and Marquez, and we were from Paris, in France, and were visiting an aunt. Then that we had to go."

"Wow," Ron said, admiringly. "I didn't know you spoke French, Hermione." She looked at him a bit scathingly.

"Why d'you think I didn't like Fleur Delacour? I understood everything she said. Both the rude and the insulting."

Ron continued without listening to her. "That's great. They believed you?"

"I hope they did," Harry said, with feeling. "If they didn't, we're probably in some serious trouble."

"We already are!" Hermione gasped, pulling her sleeve back down over her watch. "It's nine-thirty! I have to be back at the castle in half an hour to send the first-years to bed! Come on!" She set off at a run for Honeydukes, Ron and Harry lagging halfheartedly behind her.

Harry wasn't quite sure how, but they managed to make it back to the castle and their common room without getting caught. As Hermione ushered the first-years up the stairs to their dormitory, Harry and Ron slumped into two chairs by the fire. Across from them sat Fred and George, heads together and very obviously plotting.

"What's up?" Ron asked his brothers curiously. The twins looked up with expressions halfway between guilt and laughter. "What, are you writing more order forms?"

"Nah, we've taken a break from that," George said dismissively. "We're working on a new prank, here."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Should I be very careful walking into the Great Hall tomorrow?"

"No, but Mrs. Norris should watch her back," Fred grinned. George elbowed him.

"I think I'd rather not know any more," Harry said decisively as Fred rubbed his ribcage. "I'm going to bed. Try not to kill Mrs. Norris, all right? Filch would never let you have a moment's peace."

"Aye aye, Captain," George said with a mock salute. Ever since Harry had been voted captain of the Quidditch team, the twins had never missed an opportunity to tease him about his new rank. Rolling his eyes, Harry crossed the room to the boy's staircase, leaving three Weasleys snickering behind him. When Ron came up, Harry was already asleep.

A group of people, robed and masked entirely in black, stood in a circle in the middle of a clearing. Cloaked and hooded, they were only barely visible. In the center of the circle stood one who was not masked. His face and hands, white as chalk, contrasted brilliantly with the darkness behind him and the darkness of his robes.

"My friends," he called out, smiling cruelly. "Our plan is in action. Once the woman is in our possession, and her tool as well, I shall be more powerful than any wizard before me. Hades, come forth."

One of the people in the circle stepped forward and kneeled before Voldemort. "Yes, my Lord?" he murmured.

"Remove your mask." He did so. It was the man that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had seen in the Three Broomsticks, his hair slightly mussed, but otherwise looking no different. "You have begun the planning?"

"Yes, my Lord. Damia Slayt will soon be allied to us. She cannot hold out forever." He smiled a tiny smile that was very familiar...

"Excellent." Voldemort touched his chin with the tip of his wand, smirking slightly in a horrible parody of a daydreamer's expression. "And our other operation? How does that proceed?"

"Excellently, as well, my Lord."

"Perfect." Voldemort stopped, his face frozen in its expression.

"My Lord?" Hades looked up. "What is it?"

"Potter," Voldemort whispered the malice in his voice terrifying. "He is watching---" The Death Eaters murmured among themselves, until Voldemort waved a hand, and they were instantly silent. "Well," Voldemort laughed, "Let him watch. Let him try and stop this." He laughed. "Let him try."

Harry woke up with a start, gasping. Quietly, he looked around the room, making sure no one else had woken up. To his surprise, Neville, Ron, Dean, and Seamus were all awake. They were still in their pajamas, creeping out of the room. Through the open door, Harry heard snatches of a voice.

"Most irresponsible--- thoughtless, careless------ cruel---" Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Professor McGonagall, in the common room? Yelling? Harry jumped out of bed and joined his roommates, dream quickly forgotten in the face of this new event. The five boys crept down the stairs quietly, trying not to alert McGonagall to their presence. But, as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, it was proved pointless, as most of Gryffindor house was already there.

And, standing in the middle of the common room, were Fred and George Weasley. McGonagall stood in front of them, her face nearly purple with rage. "How do you explain this? I think that the Headmaster, and myself, have given you incredible leeway, what with the amount of mischief you've pulled. But now your pranks have killed!" She nearly screeched the last word, and the Gryffindors murmured excitedly. The three people in the center of the room ignored them all.

"It was an accident," George murmured.

"You could be expelled for this accident!" McGonagall yelled, not trying to contain her fury in the least. Fred went white as a sheet, and his freckles stood out against his skin in sharp contrast.

"You can't!" He said.

"I assure you, I can," McGonagall said icily, blazing fury giving way to cold anger.

"Professor McGonagall!" The crowd of Gryffindors parted like the Red Sea, with an angry Angelina Johnson their Moses. "You can't expel them! You can't! It was an accident, they said it themselves!"

Katie Bell, too had shoved her way to the front, followed by Alicia Spinnet and Hilda Rosh, the two other seventh-year girls. "You can't expel them," Katie said furiously. Standing straight, with Alicia and Hilda to either side like bodyguards and a strange sense of assurance about her, Harry suddenly thought that she was someone he wouldn't want to cross. A feeling emphasized when half the Gryffindors mumbled agreement.

"Miss Bell," McGonagall said irritatedly. "I will not expel them. But I could have. Instead," she said, turning back to the twins, "You will have three months detention with Mr. Filch. And I strongly suggest you apologize for the death of his familiar." With a glance of anger and disappointment that made the twins bow their heads with shame, she swept out of the room.

Ginny Weasley was the first to break the silence. "Fred and George Weasley, what was that all about?" she demanded, hands on her hips. All the Weasleys, plus Harry and Hermione, shuddered slightly at her uncanny resemblance to Mrs. Weasley.

"Well," George muttered, his hand going to the back of his neck, "We kind of pulled a prank... that went bad..."

"In what way?" asked Katie, moving to stand behind Ginny. Evidently, now that McGonagall was gone, nobody felt any need to help the Weasley twins.

"We fed Mrs. Norris a Canary Cream," Fred told them. "But I guess it was--- what's the word, George?"

"Incompatible," his twin supplied.

"Right, incompatible, with cats. She kind of--- kicked it."

For a moment, there was silence all through the common room. Then, Dean Thomas croaked, "You--- killed Mrs. Norris."

The twins nodded sheepishly.

Dean's face broke out in a huge smile. "All right!" A murmur of laughter went around the room, as Parvati elbowed Dean.

Hermione took the opportunity to take charge. "Why are we all standing around here?" she said loudly, fingering the Prefect's badge she had pinned to her pajamas. "If McGonagall comes back in here, we'll all lose points! Back to bed, everyone! Come on!"

Grumbling, the Gryffindors obeyed, the older students looking disgruntled at being sent to bed by a fifth-year. Harry trudged up the stairs, Ron and the other fifth years on his heels.

"They really killed Mrs. Norris?" Dean said, as though he hardly dared to believe it, shutting the door behind him.

"Sounds like it," Neville shrugged. "Filch isn't going to be happy about this."

"No kidding!" Seamus said, sitting down on his bed with a heavy bounce. Neville chuckled a little. "I'll bet Fred and George never get away with another prank."

"Nah," Ron said dismissively. "They'll figure it out. But they'll feel guilty about this for a fair bit."

"I would too," piped in Neville. "I mean, Mrs. Norris couldn't have been all bad, could she?"

"Yes, she could've," Ron said emphatically.

"Harry? You're quiet," Seamus observed. "What's up?"

Harry didn't notice as the other three boys all turned to look at him. His eyes were fixed firmly on the wrist of his pajamas, and his mind was working frantically. "There was something I've forgotten," he said slowly. "Something important. I think it was in my dream."

"In your dream, eh?" Dean said, a smile starting to form. "Did---" Whatever he was about to say, Seamus decided to stop it in its tracks. Dean returned the pillow thrown at him with twice the force, and, in the resulting scuffle, all thoughts of dreams, cats, and the Weasley twins were soon forgotten.

Clepsydra_Delphinus: Was this chapter exciting enough for you? And, oh trust me, Damia's going out with Sirius is important to her character... although I'm not sure if it's going to be made clear why. If that made any sense. And yes, I am American, unfortunately. And living in the virtual armpit of the danged country, to boot. In case you couldn't tell, I'm not that patriotic. And no slash. Sorry. Slash scares me. And there's no love interest for Harry in this one, at all, so don't even ask. He's single throughout the story.

Tamz: Clever, clever Tamz! That does have something to do with it... although it's more why Snape doesn't like Sirius than the other way around. I'm not sure if I should tell you the details... nah, I won't. They'll probably show up in chapter seven. And you see a couple of flashbacks involving Lily later, I think, so be happy!

Opaleye: Thanks! And I was a bit worried about Hermione's reaction, I wasn't sure if it was out of character or what. Thanks for reassuring me!

Roxy: Actually, I'm not a Ron/Hermione shipper either. I'm a bona fide member of the SS Prudence and Potions (and have the post of Dark Arts Instructor on board :D). I just think it fits for the story. And nah, leave Winged Dragon alone. I need her to host our party on Friday. You heard me, Hayley! You're the only one with air conditioning! Ahem... sorry. And sorry 'bout this chapter being late. Writers block. Major writers block. But I think I'm over it, so rejoice!

Ady: I knew I could count on you! Sorry I haven't reviewed your fic recently... been busy. I'll go over there in just a minute & review, I promise! And do you really think I'll stop?

neha_dkulkarni: Here you go!

Review!