Patron (Harry Potter AU) (Complete)

[Ack]

Heh.

Tasmanian Devils, indeed.

 

[Starfox5]

Heh.

Tasmanian Devils, indeed.

Click to shrink...

Greater Tasmanian Devils! The Magical variant! (I was considering Dropbears, but they wouldn't have worked as well.)

 

[Emdemian]

Okay Gilderoy Lockhart was the favourite part of that chapter for me.

I shudder to think of what sort of magical spiders from Australia Jenny is showing to Hagrid.

 

[Starfox5]

Okay Gilderoy Lockhart was the favourite part of that chapter for me.

I shudder to think of what sort of magical spiders from Australia Jenny is showing to Hagrid.

Click to shrink...

I wanted to bring him back since Chapter 2. And those are muggle spiders. Therefore - at least Dumbledore thinks so - perfectly harmless.

 

[Ack]

I wanted to bring him back since Chapter 2. And those are muggle spiders. Therefore - at least Dumbledore thinks so - perfectly harmless.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, bugger that.

Some of our spiders have health bars.

 

[Emdemian]

I wanted to bring him back since Chapter 2. And those are muggle spiders. Therefore - at least Dumbledore thinks so - perfectly harmless.

Click to shrink...

Aww I was busy dreaming how messed magical spiders would be when compared to how lethal the muggle ones are. Though... perhaps the spiders are already magical and muggles just don't know it, thinking they're mundane. That would certainly explain how crazy they can get.

 

[Starfox5]

Aww I was busy dreaming how messed magical spiders would be when compared to how lethal the muggle ones are. Though... perhaps the spiders are already magical and muggles just don't know it, thinking they're mundane. That would certainly explain how crazy they can get.

Click to shrink...

Odds are good that magical Australia's lethal fauna will make more appearances.

 

[Ack]

Odds are good that magical Australia's lethal fauna will make more appearances.

Click to shrink...

Dude.

It's all lethal.

 

[Starfox5]

Dude.

It's all lethal.

Click to shrink...

I never said it wasn't

 

[macdjord]

Yeah, bugger that.

Some of our spiders have health bars.

Click to shrink...

Do they at least drop 17-23 gold pieces when they die~?

 

[Ack]

Do they at least drop 17-23 gold pieces when they die~?

Click to shrink...

No-one's ever been game to check.

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 26: Entanglements

Life sometimes was like one of those Lockhart novels, Kenneth Fenbrick thought. Here he was, undercover in Knockturn Alley, with a witch far too pretty for the area on his arm. If she wasn't a spy, he'd eat his auror badge!

"So, you're looking for an old acquaintance of yours?" He asked with the kind of sleazy smile a mercenary named 'Basil' would have.

"Yes, a wand for 'ire I met in Paris. A few weeks ago 'e told me 'e was 'eading back to Britain, since the demand for 'is kind of work was rising there," the witch who called herself 'Cherise' answered. Her accent was spot on as far as Kenneth could tell, though he was - sadly - no expert on French courtesans. Not even an enthusiastic amateur. After this war he would have to rectify that.

He was sitting in a booth in the 'Drunk Dragon', one of the better bars there, with Cherise and his partner, Bertha Limmington, currently going by 'Jolie'. Bertha didn't seem to be enjoying the evening as much as he was, but then, she was a very by the book kind of auror, and this spy affair was anything but by the book. "Ah. Indeed, the kind of work we do has been in demand for some time now, especially with the return of You-Know-Who," he boasted.

Kenneth noticed the slight shudder of the witch at the name. That pretty much meant she was British, the Dark Lord hadn't made many waves in France, where Grindelwald was still considered the most feared Dark Lord. Well, British born or British raised. Or raised by British exiles who fled to France in the 70s. Or the 60s. Alright, she didn't have to be British. Though she was a spy. Bertha couldn't stand her, and his partner had good instincts. Or good insight. He ordered another round of drinks for everyone.

"Oh, yes. The Dark Lord." Another shudder that did interesting things to her chest. "'is fame 'as even reached Paris. But isn't it dangerous to get involved in that conflict? They say he stormed Azkablam all by 'imself."

"It's 'Azkaban'," Bertha corrected the witch in the clipped tone she only used when she really wanted to but couldn't bag a dark wizard. Or witch, in this case.

"Ah… who said we want to fight him? I've heard he pays well, and taking on the British aurors, and hit-wizards too? He'll need experienced wands. Me and Jolie here will be able to name our price." Kenneth bragged, and pulled the spy closer to him. Meanwhile Bertha kept an eye on the rest of the room.

"Oh! But 'is recruiters cannot be easy to find, they will 'ave to 'ide from the aurors." The spy's dumb witch routine was good.

"I don't worry about that. We're so good, they'll find us!" Kenneth ran a hand up and down the side of the witch, causing her to giggle while he tried to find out where she was hiding her wand. A quick summoning spell at the right time made an arrest go so much more smoothly.

The woman took this as an invitation to feel him up, or tried to slip him something - but his robes were enchanted to guard against that. Sadly, not as well as his auror robes, but good enough.

Just when he was trying to find out if the witch hid her wand in her hair - some used theirs as a hairpin, though that usually took a rather small wand, or a lot of hair - Bertha interrupted him. "Two suspicious groups have entered, and are moving to flank us."

Kenneth glanced at the bar. Three men were there, hoods hiding their faces. More telling, the bartender and the other guests were giving them space. Lots of space. Four more similarly clad were near the stage, blocking the door to backstage and the floo.

A flick of his wrist shot his wand into his hand, and he pointed it at the witch's face. "Tell your friends to back off, and you get to keep your face!" That was when he noticed that the witch had summoned her wand to her hand, and was pointing it at his groin.

*****​

"Tell your friends to back off, and you get to keep your 'wand'!" Mathilda Miller told the mercenary she had been plying for information for the last hour. She didn't know what had given her away - she'd done her "British working girl posing as a French Courtesan to charge more" act for weeks now, and no one had been suspicious - but she'd not let the Dark Lord get his hands on her.

Then she realized what the man had said. The jealous witch with him - probably too shy to make a move herself while not wanting anyone else to get close - had her wand pointed at Mathilda's head, but was looking at the thugs. No, not thugs. Their movements were too well coordinated. Merlin's rotting balls! Experienced mercenaries, and she had no hostage, but another target in her hand!

When the wands appeared in the mercenaries' hands, Mathilda pushed away from the idiot pointing his wand at her and kicked up the table, then banished it towards the three wizards at the bar. It absorbed their hastily cast spells before it smashed against one of them. The former courtesan hoped the sound of something breaking came from bones, not wood. The other two had managed to dodge though, and were casting again. Mathilda flipped over the booth and took cover, right before a pair of yellow curses hit the spot where she'd been sitting. Other spells were stopped by the shields of the two mercs in the booth.

An explosion shook the room, and 'Jolie' landed next to her, no worse for the wear. Screams from the stage indicated that the four others had been hit, or at least some of them. 'Basil' joined them, his cheap robes already showing tears. "No killing curses yet - they want to take whoever they want alive!"

Mathilda smiled grimly. She'd not let Death Eaters take her alive. Not that there was a need for such desperate measures yet.

"On two!" 'Jolie' whispered, and two seconds later, both mercenaries rose to cast, then dropped into cover again. Or would have, if Mathilda hadn't transfigured the booth into a hippopotamus and sent it charging at the bar. Now she just had to… her disillusion spell failed! They were really competent! She barely got a shield up in time to soak two stunning spells.

The female mercenary got hit by some curse, and went down - screaming, so she was not dead, and waving her wand. Looked like a normal bone crushing curse, not some of the more exotic, and darker curses. Nothing Mathilda could do about that.

Her partner took offense though, and his wand spat out a series of blasting curses that turned most of what was left of the stage into splinters which savaged the remaining two attackers there. Another was buried under Mathilda's transfigured animal before the spell was finited, which meant the remaining wizard would be trying to flee right about… now!

Her sticking spell hit his boots, and while he was flailing and falling, Mathilda transfigured two chairs into constrictors. His robe might repel spells, but most such robes had trouble with more physical attacks. Judging by the screams, soon cut off, his robes shared that weakness.

The attackers hadn't been as good as she had feared at first - they had bungled it at seven to three odds. But there would be more waiting outside, probably still watching the other guests fleeing. They'd not know yet if the fight was over inside, and who'd have won. Mathilda sent a confringo at the leftmost window, blowing it up and out. Let them think the battle was still going on. The front door would be watched. The backdoor... probably not - they had tried to block it, after all. Still… never be predictable, as Madame Dubois had taught her. She had meant in a relationship, but it fit battles too.

Mathilda pulled her shrunk broom out of her robe and enlarged it. Before she could mount it though, 'Basil' pointed his wand at her again. "In the name of the Ministry, you're under arrest!"

"What?" Madame Dubois would have had her hide for losing her composure like that, but she couldn't help gaping. An Auror, here?

*****​

Keith Yennington swore he'd kill those idiots who bungled the job when the front windows blew up. Seven against two, how could you fail at those odds?! He felt a sudden rage, and had to remind himself that he had to wait with punishing those fools until the job was done. He had men watching the back and the front, just in case there was trouble, or some reinforcements. Maybe he shouldn't have sent the most expendable wands inside, just in case it was a trap.

He couldn't see any signs of combat inside anymore. No flashing lights, no explosions. Maybe his men had succeeded, even if they had had more trouble than expected? Just then all the remaining windows blew open, showering the streets with shards of glass, followed by thick, billowing smoke. He knew at once his men had lost.

"They're making a break for it! Get rid of the smoke!" He yelled, and started to do so himself. Before he had made much headway - where did they get all that smoke from? - the street started to blow up from a series of blasting curses. Fortunately they were badly aimed and his shield protected him, but the explosions threw up more dust and smoke, and he realized that the aurors would escaped before that was cleared up.

And with that much of a ruckus, the other aurors would arrive soon. He had to retreat. And he'd have to explain this debacle to the Dark Lord. And that would be much easier if he had a better story to tell than a bungled ambush. Maybe it had been a trap, and it hadn't been seven against two? That made sense. Or would make sense, if he presented it. And wasn't that why he had sent his most expendable men in?

Smiling behind his mask, he turned to Hortensius. "Fiendfyre it, then get out."

His most dependable wand didn't ask about the group of them who might still be alive inside, he simply cast, followed by Keith himself. That would teach the denizens of Knockturn Alley to shelter aurors!

*****​

"Where in the name of Morgaine is your backup?" The spy screamed at Kenneth while they flew through the smoke rising from the house on a very overloaded broom. He didn't answer her - he was straining already to keep the levitation spell on Bertha and the spy so the broom could carry all three at a decent speed. His partner's leg had been crushed, the flesh shredded from within by fragments from the bones, but she had managed to petrify it, stopping the internal bleeding, but all but immobilizing herself in the process. But the witch was still casting with the precision and ruthless efficiency he knew so well, creating more smoke to hide their flight, even while she held on to him. Just a bit further, and they'd be out of the anti-portkey jinx's range…

"You've got the broom!" the spy suddenly shouted, then jumped off.

Kenneth acted without thinking, grabbing the falling witch's robes instead of the broom. Bertha was still clutching him with one hand, and he had barely a moment to realize his mistake when the portkey went off and all three of them including the broom went spinning around madly.

Portkeying with a broom between the legs wasn't something Kenneth would recommend to anyone but his worst enemies. Fortunately, he hadn't skimped on the groin protection, or witches all over Britain would lament this day. Unfortunately, his legs hadn't been as protected, and Bertha's petrified leg had smacked into his several times as well, leaving him in pain and covered with bruises.

Despite the rough ride, and the less than graceful landing, he had managed to keep a grip on the spy's robes, who were far sturdier than their flimsy, near-transparent looks indicated. He had even landed on top of her, which had allowed him to straddle her and point his wand at her throat before she could escape again. If anyone asked, it had gone exactly as planned.

Breathing heavily from the fight and flight, he grinned. "Got you now!"

The witch glared at him, but he had the drop on her. Behind him, Bertha groaned - she hadn't landed as gracefully, but she was alive. Just as he was patting the spy down to get any other wand she might have hidden, the floo activated. Cursing, he started to turn.

He didn't see who had arrived, much less point his wand at them before he was violently flung at the wall to his right and stuck there, disarmed. A second later, Bertha joined him, and once again, her petrified leg struck his unprotected one. He grunted in pain, then froze, staring at his assailant.

He and Bertha had just been taken out by one wizard before either of them had been able to react. Granted, they had been surprised, and hadn't been wearing their auror robes, but such a feat still took an extraordinary wizard, not some … washed out pervert.

For a moment he couldn't believe that it was Aberforth Dumbledore, the Goat Wizard, and not the Headmaster himself who had vanquished them. He was supposed to be the black sheep of the Dumbledore family, the disappointment next to his famous brother! He didn't look like a disappointment right then. Kenneth shivered under the harsh, hateful glare aimed at him.

"They claim to be aurors, Abe!" The spy yelled, and the man lowered his wand, slightly.

"Why would aurors attack you?" He asked, not taking his eyes off the two aurors.

"I think it was a misunderstanding," the witch answered while her robes rearranged themselves. Kenneth couldn't help staring when the torn scraps that barely covered the witch changed back to the revealing, but still decent robes she had worn at the start of the evening. Lockhart had been right - courtesans had some kinky enchantments on their clothes.

"Misunderstanding?" The harsh voice, promising pain and violence, brought his attention back to his current predicament.

"Yes. I think their cover was broken, and the Dark Lord sent some of his men after them, catching me in the crossfire." The witch stepped closer to Kenneth, smiling tauntingly and teasingly at him, and took her wand back from his pocket, despite the enchantments on it to prevent exactly that.

"They look familiar." The old wizard narrowed his eyes.

"We've questioned you about the kidnapping in Hogsmeade." Bertha stated. Kenneth's normally unflappable partner sounded nervous as well - understandable, given the situation.

Aberforth waved his wand, and Kenneth tensed, holding his breath, until the man stated: "It's not a spell."

"It's not polyjuice either - I kept an eye out while I drank with them for more than an hour." The other witch added. "I didn't see their backup. For an undercover operation, this was quite sloppy."

"Hey! We were not undercover, just disguised!" Kenneth protested.

"Technically, it was a plainclothes patrol," Bertha clarified.

The spy chuckled, which earned her a glare from the female auror. With a glance at Aberforth, she said: "Since they were in disguise I don't think we need to obliviate them. Unless they plan to make a habit out of such trips." Then she turned towards the two again. "What were you doing there, anyway?"

"We were hunting a Death Eater suspect." Bertha answered. Not that that would reveal anything.

Aberforth shook his head. "I should simply obliviate them, and then leave."

Kenneth tensed up again. Maybe Aberforth was the black sheep of the Dumbledore family - a dark wizard, hiding under the very nose of his brother, posing as a dishonored innkeeper.

The spy shook her head. "No, I've got a better idea." She smiled at the two aurors. "It's been getting a bit dangerous to operate in Knockturn Alley without backup. Abe's been on my case for some time to stop."

"No." Bertha said in a flat voice, just as Kenneth asked "What do you mean? And wouldn't you mind letting us down from the wall?"

Judging by the glares Bertha sent towards him while the spy explained her plan, her leg was bothering her more than she let on.

*****​

The Dark Lord Voldemort, polyjuiced into the form of Finnegan Greenbrand, smiled when he spotted the witch he had been looking for sitting at a bar among other wands for hire in Knockturn Alley. Lucrecia Browtuckle, her robes cut to reveal her numerous scars, had spotted him as soon as he had entered, and he could see her slightly tense up as she downed the rest of her drink while he walked towards her.

"Miss Browtuckle." He nodded at her.

"Mister Greenbrand." She barely moved her head, her eyes meeting his. There was a change in her behaviour, compared to the last time they had met. He smiled. Perhaps she knew who he was. If so, she showed remarkable composure.

"The situation in Britain is no longer a brawl between children." He ordered a fire whiskey for himself. "It's a war now."

"Nominally at most. I haven't been impressed much by what I've read and who I've seen. Grindelwald's wizards would have eaten them alive without breaking a sweat." The old witch glanced over at a loudly bragging wand for hire who was trying to impress the waitress with made-up tales of bravery and daring.

Voldemort smirked. "Those are the dregs and the inexperienced. The skilled ones have already been hired. Most of them."

"Is that an offer?" She wasn't calling him 'lad' this time. She knew, or suspected.

"Yes. A very generous one. You are among the most experienced and skilled wands in Britain. And one of the few not already committed." He raised his glass to her.

"The wise mercenary doesn't get involved in conflicts where the outcome is not yet clear." Lucrezia stated.

"Waiting for the best offer? It can be dangerous, if you wait too long. One or the other side might decide that preventing you from joining the enemy would be safer than hoping to convince you to join them." Voldemort smiled pleasantly, despite his threat.

"You haven't made an actual offer yet." The witch shifted a bit. He recognized the way she got ready to move.

He pulled out a piece of parchment, put it on the smooth bartop and slid it towards her. She didn't touch it, just looked at it and raised an eyebrow. "Quite generous indeed. I will have to consider this offer carefully."

"What's there to consider? The payment's far higher than anything the Ministry could offer." He knew that well. "Other parties lack the means to pay you even half that. Not without crippling their other efforts."

"I might decide to leave Britain until this war has run its course." Lucrecia smiled, but her eyes were cold.

"If you were going to do that, you'd have already left. You're one of the most experienced mercenaries; you know the prices, you know the score. If you are still here, in this bar, it means you've been waiting for this offer. Or it means you're already working for someone else." He silently sealed the room. He had already blocked apparition, portkey and floo travel before he had entered. She might simply be holding out for more money. Many mercenaries would do that. But he didn't think so. For all her experience, she hadn't fought in the kind of wars he had been waging, and would be waging again. Not on his side, at least.

She was fast, and skilled. As good as her reputation. Her first spell was cast silently, not at him, but at the floor, blasting the stone there into shards as sharp as knives, all directed towards him. They met his silently cast shield spell while he pushed away from the bar, diving to the side before the transfigured claws sprouting from the bartop reached him.

The low-lives in the bar had just started to notice the battle at that point. Voldemort hadn't touched the ground yet before he had conjured a dozen sharp blades dripping with poison and banished them at the witch. She twisted out of the way and one of them took off the top of the head of the bartender while he was still opening his mouth to shout something. Voldemort pushed himself off the ground, evaded a series of piercing curses and turned the air around the bar into poison gas. A waitress started choking, and dying, but Browtuckle was unaffected - it had to be her robes, he didn't see a bubblehead charm in effect.

The smarter wizards and witches were trying to flee now, but the room was sealed. The Greenbrand identity was too valuable still, to leave witnesses. Lucrecia had jumped behind the bar, taking cover from his own salvo of bludgeoning curses. But that gave him enough time to cover the half a dozen mercenaries at the door in acid. Half of them screamed and flailed around, the others turned towards him, protected by their robes. Not for long, though.

"Sectumsempra!" his shouted curse went straight through the shields and robes of two of them, cutting them in half. The third one stared in horror, and Voldemort would have killed him with his next spell, if he hadn't to defend against Browtuckle's next attack - whirling ice blades, intermixed with fireballs, and behind them, a salvo of cutting curses.

The Dark Lord raised a slab of stone in front of him, catching the first ranks of the blades, giving him time enough to wrest control of the other blades from the witch - he had fought against Ottoman wizards more than enough to be familiar with those kinds of spells. The cutting curses destroyed his makeshift barrier, and the fireballs destroyed the ice blades before he could use them. But her attack had been stopped.

A flick of his wrist flung a waitress who had been cowering behind an upturned table at his enemy. She didn't dodge the screaming witch, and so his piercing curses missed her. His living projectile shattered Browtuckle's shield though, giving him an opening. The nimble witch dodged again then, and his fire spell only hit the waitress, who turned into a short-lived torch.

Browtuckle dropped all restraint then, and filled the room with explosions and splinters. Voldemort's shield held though - it was a tactic more appropriate for taking out large numbers of average wizards and witches, not a wizard as powerful as the Dark Lord. So, why would she…

His respect for his foe went up a notch when he spotted the black carpet made out of crawling bugs move towards him, hidden behind the dust and debris caused by the explosions. Egyptian magic as well! It was a shame he had to kill the witch. A wave of water brushed the cursed beetles aside, then roasted them when he poured lightning into it. Browtuckle herself was forced to climb the bartop, or share the fate of her conjured bugs.

He had been counting on that, and as exposed as she was, she couldn't dodge or shield all of the necromantic orbs he shot at her. Even so less than he expected hit her, and while her skin was starting to rot off, she was not out of the fight yet. "Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedavra!"

He dodged the first Killing Curse, then blocked the next with a conjured marble slab. He could see that she wasn't used to casting that spell - she was barely faster with it than his average Death Eater. Her robe stopped his next two curses despite its tattered condition, he would have to find out who enchanted it, but the third one got through and turned her knees into pulp, and she fell down on the rubble-covered ground

She was staring at him with hatred, her face half-rotted off, but still trying to cast when he put her out of her misery with a Killing Curse of his own. Looking around, he took a deep breath, savoring the moment. It felt good, fighting like this. Even if she hadn't touched him at all, it had been a good, challenging battle. He saluted the body with his wand, then unleashed fiendfyre on the room before apparating away.

*****​

"Many of you will fondly remember Gilderoy Lockhart, the famous author, who taught Defense against the Dark Arts three years ago at Hogwarts. He and his friend, Miss Jenny, have agreed to assist Professor Lupin and Professor Hagrid, allowing them to focus on more advanced students."

Hermione Granger clapped at hearing the Headmaster's announcement, if a tad less enthusiastically than her fellow students. She liked to have Professor Lockhart back - he was charming, good looking, but most importantly, his presence would allow Remus - Professor Lupin - to spend more time training Harry, herself and their friends. And his presence would hopefully distract a number of those witches after Harry. She was less enthralled by the presence of the author's friend. Not because the woman was a very attractive witch wearing very little clothing, but because the witch was about as enthusiastic about dangerous magical animals as Hagrid, but hadn't the decades of teaching and other experience their professor had. Unless Lockhart had presented her in a very different light in his books, she might both underestimate the dangers of an animal and overestimate the skills of the students.

Next to her, Luna was clapping madly though, and Hermione realized with a sinking feeling that "Jungle Jenny" was the blonde Ravenclaw's idol. She exchanged a look with Aicha, who looked about as enthusiastic as herself.

"We need to reevaluate our protective enchantments," she whispered to Harry.

Her boyfriend and Patron looked confused, but his eyes widened, when he caught her looking at Hagrid, then at Jenny, and then at Luna. "Merlin! I didn't think of that!"

"What were you thinking of then?" Hermione asked. Probably the same most boys had been thinking of, she thought.

"I was wondering why those two decided to become assistant teachers, in the middle of the school year. That sounds a bit strange." Harry explained.

"You're right. Why would they do that? There was no opening, and both are very successful in their fields, especially if Jenny gets the same cut we got from Lockhart, so they don't need the gold either." Hermione bit her lower lip.

"We also haven't heard about any plans that would involve Remus cutting back on his lessons." Harry added.

Hermione nodded. There had been talk about contacting the werewolves before Voldemort got his hooks into them - anymore than he probably had already - but Sirius had persuaded Remus that someone else, someone less well-known as Dumbledore's man, should undertake that mission. "Well, something's afoot then. Hopefully not something that needs two more specialists for dangerous magical creatures next to Hagrid."

Harry agreed, but looked like he thought that was the most likely explanation for the presence of the two. "We can ask Hagrid. He can't keep a secret, and he'd know if it was something like that."

"Before dinner then," Hermione stated, "I have the curse and the course material almost completed, I should finish those in the evening after dinner."

*****​

As planned, Harry Potter and his friends made their way towards Hagrid's hut after their last lessons of the day. The teacher, unlike the other professors at Hogwarts, had chosen to live outside the castle, in his own house - the old groundskeeper cottage, to be exact. He claimed that he prefered to be closer to the Forbidden Forest, and to the animals and other denizens making it their home. The hut didn't look like much from the outside, but the inside was vastly expanded, and the walls were magically strengthened. Several times, as the rumor went, after a particularly 'interesting' specimen of his had broken through once.

Harry hadn't visited Hagrid too often, despite a standing invitation for tea. Luna though could consider the professor's hut her home away from home - the half-giant was a close friend of the Lovegoods, and a regular contributor to their magazine. So the group of friends was following the blonde Ravenclaw as she made good speed towards the cottage.

Not everyone was similarly enthusiastic. Hermione was looking forward to find out more about their newest professors, and would welcome any information the teacher let slip about magical animals. Aicha as Luna's best friend was a regular herself, but seemed a bit more reserved about the occasion than the blonde witch. Even a bit uneasy, now that Harry took a closer look. Ron seemed more concerned with scanning the environment for dangers than the visit itself, an attitude Harry tended to share. With good reason, he thought, with Voldemort's forces out there, somewhere. The rest of their friends had declined to come along - Padma was already studying for their O.W.L.s, Neville was doing extra-credit work for Professor Sprout, and Ginny was helping the green-thumbed Gryffindor.

Luna didn't bother knocking, she simply tapped the door with her wand and opened it - a clear sign she was considered a very close friend, if not family by the resident. The young witch entered with a loud "Rubeus! We're here!", which prompted a loud "Luna!".

Hagrid was swinging the squealing girl around when the rest of them arrived, with Aicha's genie fluttering around both. "Come inside, come inside! And close the door - the little spiders don't like the cold!" He waved at the expanded entrance hall, with several doors leading to his proper quarters or his workspace.

"Spiders?" Ron's eyes widened, and his wand shot into his hand as they entered.

The teacher didn't seem to notice his reaction. "Yeah! Jenny brought me some from Australia. Muggle Spiders, but very interesting. Come on, I'll show you in the other room!"

"I'll stay here I think," Ron answered.

"Alright. We're missing one, so if you see it, call. Careful when stunning them, they're fragile little things, even when enlarged a bit." Hagrid smiled, and walked towards the door to his workspace.

Harry had noticed that Hermione had paled some. He looked at her and raised his eyebrows, and she whispered: "Australian spiders are among the deadliest in the world. Muggle ones, that is."

Luna and Aicha either didn't know that little tidbit, or didn't care. For a brief moment Harry pondered staying with Ron, but he wouldn't let Hermione enter Hagrid's workspace without him.

Hagrid let them in what looked like a room-sized terrarium, and pointed at a big glass case in the middle, filled with dozens of spiders, in their own compartments. Next to it a tall, tanned blonde woman in a robe that would have passed as a leather bikini stood, levitating one of the spiders up - 'Jungle Jenny'.

"Look at the li'l beauties!" Hagrid stated, and with a flick of his wand enlarged to tiny spider until it was as big as his hand. "It's a Redback Spider! See that red stripe on th' back? That gives 'im th' name. Deadliest venom of all muggle spiders, he has!"

"Oh!" Luna bent forward, giggling when the floating spider flailed with its legs at her and bared its now not quite so tiny fangs. "Beautiful!"

Harry exchanged a look with Hermione and Aicha. None of them looked like they wanted to get any closer to that monster. And Aicha's genie was now hiding behind the girl's head.

"Great spider! But t'is even better, if a bit aggressive." Hagrid pointed his wand at another arachnid, floating it out of the case. "It's a Sidney Funnel-web Spider. Dunno who Sidney was, but see th' fangs?" Another flick, and that spider too grew to the size of the half-giant's hand. And so did its fangs, which had been the size of snake fangs before. Harry was reminded of his encounter with the basilisk, and shuddered. The beast seemed as aggressive as the basilisk as well, trying frantically to reach anyone of the humans around them while Hagrid mentioned casually that their fangs usually could cut through leather shoes. A terrified squeaking noise told Harry that the genie had understood that.

"I'll have to create a spider-detecting, and spider-repelling spell." Harry heard Hermione mutter under her breath.

Luna of course found that monster cute as well, and happily chatted with both Hagrid and Jenny while they revealed more information Harry could have done without. Like the fact that Redback Spiders used to bite a lot of people in the groin when outhouses were common. Or that the Funnel-web Spider's venom was particularly lethal to primates. Including humans. Jenny stating that she had a full set of antidotes with her was not as comforting as it should have been, given the circumstances. Maybe Ron was on to something with his "curse first, curse later" policy when it came to spiders.

"Will you be showing those in your lessons, Professor?" Hermione asked after the spiders had been re-shrunk and dropped back into the glass case. Behind her, Luna tapped on the glass, causing the spiders to swarm towards her.

"Ah, no, as muggle critters, those are not on th' curriculum." Hagrid answered. "But Jenny here will show 'em in her special lesson on Australian fauna. You'd not believe th' kind of animals they have there. Too bad th' Greater Tasmanian Devil is still stuck in Professor Lockhart's basement after th' attack."

"It attacked him?" Harry hadn't much of a clue about that animal, but from the way Hermione got even paler, it had to be very dangerous. He knew Lockhart was an experienced adventurer though.

"No, no. It attacked th' Death Eaters in his basement. Like a guard dog. But it cocooned up after it ate its fill, and it'll be sleepin' for half a year or so."

Jenny nodded. "It tore through them though. Like a tornado of blood and gore." Her smile looked far too cheerful for her words.

While Harry, Hermione and even Aicha winced at the mental picture that description caused, Luna piped up "Do you think the reports of Blood Whirlers in Northern America are actually a variant of those devils?"

Hagrid rubbed his beard. "It could be. Though th' theory that they are a variant of poltergeists has some merit as well."

"You were attacked by Death Eaters?" Harry asked the Australian witch before the conversation could move into magicryptozoology.

"Gilderoy was, actually. I was just visiting, and happened to give them a devil of a time." She grinned. "Gilderoy was a bit annoyed at his basement getting occupied by the animal for the next couple months though."

"Was that when you decided to become teachers at Hogwarts?" Harry tried to sound as innocently and casually as possible.

From her frown, it wasn't enough. "Yes. With the Dark Lord after us, it seemed a good idea. A pack's stronger than any individual, as the shamans say."

Harry nodded. It made sense. "Well, I am glad you two are safe, and joined us here." He smiled at her, then noticed Hermione frowning slightly. Did she really expect him to lust after the older witch? Well, the assistant teacher was very attractive, and wore very little, but still! Besides, she had had a crush on Lockhart. He blinked. Maybe he shouldn't push the issue. With all the pureblood girls after him, or so it seemed, his girlfriend had been in a bit of a mood already. Even though 'Jungle Hermione' would look great.

They moved from the workspace to the living room, and had tea and Hagrid's famous rock cakes. Infamous among first years - the older students traditionally let them try the cakes without having learned the charm to soften them yet. Hermione had called it hazing, and had ranted about it. Understandable for the daughter of dentists - Madam Pomfrey usually had to regrow a tooth or two per class. But treated with the proper spell, incidentally invented by the leader of the first successful diplomatic mission to the giant clans, who had also invented many of the tooth restoring spells in modern use, the cakes were delicious.

While Hagrid explained something to Luna, who was scribbling on her 'journalist notepad' now, Harry leaned over to Ron and whispered: "Ron, if you ever see a spider in Hagrid's Hut outside a cage, or any spider outside his hut, no matter how small, kill it. With extreme prejudice."

Hermione, sitting next to him, nodded with a grave expression. Ron stared at the two of them, who usually were not as understanding of his attitude towards spiders, swallowed, and slowly nodded before checking the room for spiders again.

There was a reason Harry didn't visit Hagrid's hut that often, despite the standing invitation.

*****​

Hermione Granger stared at her notebook. She had run the equations through her shielded calculator twice. The curse should work, but she'd have to test it yet. Not the effect itself. A slight discoloration of the hair, a pimple in the middle of the forehead, and an itching scalp were results of common jinxes and hexes. But the trigger condition - 'Intent to spy, sabotage or hurt' - was an original creation of hers. And intent-based triggers were tricky. The books on curse-breaking had many examples where ancient curses had mistaken a researcher for a thief, with gruesome results. The young witch didn't think every one of those victims had been secretly planning to plunder a grave. Apart from those in Gringotts' employ, of course.

But who to test it on? She'd rather not ask Harry. Curses, even harmless ones, and the Patron Oath didn't go together that well. It wouldn't hurt either of them, but it simply felt wrong. Like training sometimes felt wrong when she was facing him. Besides, he was studying.

"Do you know where Ron is?" she asked.

Harry looked up from his book, another treatise on self-defense. Hopefully it wasn't as useless as the last one. "He was talking to his brothers about a spider repellant."

"They are responsible for his problem with spiders in the first place." And they hadn't ever apologized, as far as Hermione knew. Ron didn't mind, or claimed not to mind. Siblings could be weird, in her opinion. She'd certainly would have demanded an apology, and reparations.

"Do you think they'll prank him?" Harry frowned.

"They better not," Hermione stated, huffing. There was a time and place for pranks. And dealing with lethal spiders was not the time or place to prank people. Even Sirius would agree with that.

The door opened, and Ron entered. "Speak of the devil!" Harry said. Hermione winced. After hearing that a Greater Tasmanian Devil had taken up residence in Britain, that phrase somehow felt out of place. "Did you get the repellant?"

"I got something they told me would repel spiders. I am not sure if they actually believed me when I told them about the spider threat." Ron placed a potion on the table. The one with the marble plate, and the reinforced legs.

"Great, one more thing to test." Hermione muttered. Well, first things first. "Ron, can I test my new curse on you?"

"What does it do?" Ron asked, cautiously.

"This variant colors your hair some. I mainly need to test the trigger." She picked up a few badges she had prepared already.

"Fine then." Ron agreed, as she had known he would, and stood up. Behind him, Harry stood up as well, to observe.

Hermione handed their friend a cursed badge. "put it on please, then cast a stinging hex at me."

Ron had the hex flying at her before she had finished her sentence - he was getting very quick on the draw. Her robe absorbed the hex without trouble, but the curse didn't trigger. Drat. She bit her lip and pondered the situation while Ron checked his hair color with a conjured mirror.

"Maybe it's the fact that you knew my robe would stop the hex," the young witch speculated, and started to shrug off her robe. She wasn't nude, like other witches she knew were, underneath it, but the camisole and boyshorts she was wearing were a far cry from the pullover and jeans she had worn before she had started to enchant her robes. But she certainly wouldn't delay the testing for aesthetic reasons.

Ron was coughing a bit, and Harry was staring, slightly. She grinned at her boyfriend. It was a small payback for the attention he had paid to 'Jungle Jenny'.

"Alright. Hex me agaOW!" Ron was definitely getting faster. But despite the stinging hex hurting her, the curse hadn't triggered. "Maybe it's that I wanted you to hex mEEEP!"

She was lifted up and dangling from her right ankle, and something cold and slimy was flowing down her right leg - Ron had used the mud-covered ankle-noose spell on her! But she could see that he was now sporting blue hair, her spell had worked! Then her camisole slipped down, covering her eyes and uncovering her chest, and Harry angrily yelled at their best friend.

Ultimately, there was no real harm done. Nothing a finite, a scourgify, and a quick summoning of her robe couldn't fix. Though she might get a bit more creative in the next training session, at least when facing Ron. And Harry might do the same, judging by the scowl still lingering on his face.

The important thing was though that her curse was working. She had already finished the lesson plans, now all she had to do was to enchant a few dozen badges.

Which would take her more than a few hours… drat.

*****​

"Ugh! Merlin!

"What the…"

"Who…?"

"Scourgify! Scourgify!"

Ron Weasley smiled at the sounds coming from his brothers' room - the twins shared one room, unlike everyone else of their year. It looked like their 'Spider repellant' didn't work as they had claimed it would. Shaking his head, he handed the invisibility cloak back to Harry. He could have disillusioned himself, but the cloak was both more convenient and more effective - no one so far had spotted him, Harry or Hermione when they had been wearing it. Certainly not his brothers!

Too bad they couldn't enlarge it.The times when all three of them had been able to fit under it were long since gone. They had all grown up. Maybe a bit too much, or not enough, in places - Harry had looked rather angry at his spell last night, and Hermione… well, she would probably get even one way or the other. Even though he had just done what they had needed. And it had been worth it.

He smirked while following Harry down to the Gryffindor common room, where Hermione would be waiting already. He was a Weasley, after all, and his brothers currently fighting off an invasion of all sorts of bugs - but no spiders - weren't that different from him. If you could do something right, or do it right and have fun, Ron would pick the second option.

Speaking of, or rather thinking of doing what was right, or what was needed… He would have to talk with his best friends about their next school year. The Year of Exploration. Between Sirius and their muggle families, they probably didn't understand that as well as they should.

Well, not today. It was months until the end of the year still, after all.

Breakfast was interrupted by Dumbledore announcing that a delegation from the Ministry would be in Hogwarts that day, talking to the Seventh Years about their future. 'Career Day' Hermione had called it. Ron didn't think becoming 'wand fodder' for the Ministry was much of a career, but then, he had been in a few dangerous situations already, and had been training hard for combat for more than a year. Most of the other students wouldn't know what was awaiting them. They'd probably see hit-wizards as heroes. He knew a lot of the Gryffindors thought so. And Fred and George would be joining the Order of the Phoenix as soon as they graduated, despite mum's wishes.

Well, there was a reason they were in Gryffindor, and not in Slytherin. He looked over to the Slytherin table. They wouldn't join the hit-wizards, he was sure of that. Some of them would join Voldemort, the rest would hole up in their mansions. Malfoy was scowling at the Daily Prophet - today's leading article talked about home defense, so Ron didn't understand what offended the git - but his former girlfriend Pansy Parkinson was looking straight at Ron. The girl even smiled when their eyes met. Ron immediately drew his wand and checked his food and drink for poison, again. A Slytherin like Parkinson, smiling at him? She had to be plotting! But he was on to her.

*****​

Gilderoy Lockhart walked through the halls of Hogwarts once more. For the second time as a teacher - as an assistant teacher, to be precise. Though maybe his biography wouldn't need to be quite that precise. 'Assistant teacher' sounded a bit too much like a student helping a professor out. And he hadn't been a student at Hogwarts for over a decade.

A group of witches crossed his path. They weren't wearing the standard school robes, but some rather risqué robes, so they were in their sixth or seventh year. He flashed his best smile at them, but didn't stop to chat. The sighing was bad enough as it is, and he'd rather not deal with more love-struck witches wanting personal tutoring sessions. Even if they were very attractive, and very determined.

He wasn't a student anymore, he reminded himself. He was a teacher now. Again. And when it came down to it, those witches were still children, testing their boundaries, reaching for things they did not quite understand as well as they thought they did. Even if they didn't look exactly like children, with the right spells and clothes, and in the dim light of a hallway. Or a tavern.

Merlin's bollocks! Gilderoy shook his head at his own traitorous thoughts. It wasn't right. Besides, McGonagall and Dumbledore would have his head, and Jenny…

That thought help him focus on his upcoming tutoring session with the first and second years. At least those children looked their age, and their crushes were adorable and didn't make you check your drinks for love potions. Hecate be praised that this was not Beauxbatons - the thought of a few love-struck adolescent veela among his students sent shivers down his spine. One of those days he'd have to ask how the French teachers managed to avoid indiscretions, he still winced when thinking back to that book signing in Paris… well, to the day afterwards, when he had woken up to headlines of the Tribune Magique and a visit from the gendarmérie.

At least with Harry Potter now in his fifth year, going on his sixth, things wouldn't be as bad as they had been three years ago. The young celebrity should draw some of that unwanted but far too tempting attention away from him.

Hm. Maybe he should focus his first lessons on the Basilisk incident, just to be sure. Mister Potter and Mister Weasley as well as Miss Granger surely wouldn't mind getting a bit more popular, close to their sixth year!

*****​

With Professor Lupin's support, the first real meeting of the Hogwarts Self-defense Club took place in the Dueling chamber. Hermione was still a bit disappointed that they hadn't gone with her own proposal for the name, but maybe the others were right and it had been a bit too complicated. "Hogwarts Extracurricular Self-defense, Magical & Improvised, for New and Experienced" had a certain ring to it, in her opinion at least.

She was sitting at a table near the entrance, with a box for the badges. The young witch had refined the curse a bit - it was now activated by the transfer of the badge, its presence afterwards was no longer required. And it required the intent to do serious harm to Harry to be activated. It still served to identify the students, though.

She just hoped she'd have enough. There were more people coming in than she remembered attending the gathering last week.

"Thank you!" Airhead Greengrass took a badge, put it on, then started to move it around, apparently trying to find the best spot. For a badge. If not for Davis's soft pushing, the idiot would have held up the whole queue. Hermione raised an eyebrow at the brunette, but Davis just smirked back.

A few more students, Gryffindors all, filed in and took their badges. The young witch quickly counted the remaining badges. Still enough, unless her estimate was really off.

"Good evening, Miss Granger."

That voice made her look up and stare. What in Merlin's name was Parkinson doing here?

Her expression must have betrayed her thoughts, or it was a predictable question, since Parkinson explained: "As a witch who has recently broken up with the son of a rather prominent pureblood who died under suspicious circumstances, I fear for my safety and would like to take advantage of your Patron's generous offer to his fellow students."

Hermione clenched her jaws together with so much force, she was certain her teeth were cracking under the pressure. She desperately wanted to tell Parkinson to get lost. Maybe hex her for good measure. But she couldn't.

With an effort, she managed to paste a fake smile on her face instead. "Of course, Miss Parkinson. Please take a badge."

To her surprise and disappointment, the Slytherin witch didn't suddenly develop a pimple on her forehead, nor did her hair color change. So, she did not wish to harm or spy on Harry, nor sabotage this club. The young muggleborn witch was certain that the result would have been far different if she had included a wish to harm herself in the trigger condition - but then, as a prominent true muggleborn, and retainer of Harry Potter, a great many witches probably wished her harm, if only to have a better shot at her Patron, so it wouldn't have served its intended purpose.

She took a few deep breaths, then smiled at the next student, who looked a bit nervous when he reached for the box with the badges. He was probably afraid of not measuring up to Harry's standards, Hermione thought.

*****​

Ron Weasley cooly smiled at Parkinson when the witch waved to him. He didn't know why she was really here - Hermione's curse had not been triggered, and he didn't believe she was really afraid of Malfoy, or the Dark Lord - but he'd find out.

"What's the problem, Miss Parkinson?" He asked, emulating Lupin's professional tone. If a werewolf could be so polite to people who would consider him a subhuman dark creature if they knew - an expression he had picked up from Hermione - then Ron could be polite to a Slytherin witch.

"Could you show me how to point-cast a shield spell again?" She smiled sweetly at him, like an Amazonian Nymph trying to lure prey close to her pond so she could drown them.

"Of course." He refrained from sarcastically commenting that she should point the wand away from her and cast, as tempting as it was. Hermione certainly wouldn't work with Parkinson, and if Harry tried to… Ron rather wouldn't want to be nearby. Hermione was wound up tighter than the chains of a Ridgeback at Charlie's reserve when the regular healer visit took place. "You need to visualize the wand motions very precisely, in addition to the spell's effect."

"Instead of moving the wand, I imagine moving it?" Parkinson sounded a bit sceptically, but not derisive.

"Exactly. It's a matter of imagination and intent. Words and wand movements make spells easier to cast, but they are not essential components. Our mind rewrites reality when we cast a spell. All you have to do is start that a bit earlier." Ron explained, then showed the process - not that watching him point his wand and cast was that helpful.

"Oh. That's a very concise explanation," the witch smiled at him, flattering him.

"Of course. It's from Hermione." Ron didn't quite smirk when Parkinson's smile turned rather sour before she recovered. He certainly felt like it though.

He nodded at her and turned to see if any other witch needed help. His friends hadn't said anything, but everyone understood that it would be best if Harry would teach the wizards and Ron would help the witches, particularly those who seemed to have designs on the Boy-Who-Lived. They could always switch a bit once those who wanted to attend just to be near Harry had quit in frustration.

Spotting Hermione trying to show a Ravenclaw fourth year how to cast a shield spell while the boy was trying to stare down her robe, and catching how Harry was watching the two, Ron realized that his workload might grow a bit before it lessened. He smiled at Padma, who seemed to be a bit frustrated with her own attempts at point casting since she was scowling when she met his eyes.

It wasn't easy, but it was the fastest way to cast a shield, and a shield was essential for defending yourself. That, and dodging. Ron grinned a bit. He was looking forward to teach the students assembled there how to dodge spells. Marauder style, as Sirius called it. The teaching, of course, not the dodging.


Chapter 27: Spies

 

[Ack]

More developments. And yeah, sure, that was an accident, Ron.

Typos:

The were really competent!

Click to shrink...

They

Ron stared at the two of them, who usually were not as understanding of his attitude towards siders, swallowed, and slowly nodded before checking the room for spiders again.

Click to shrink...

spiders

She took a few deep breaths, then smiled at the next student, who looked a bit nervously when he reached for the box with the badges.

Click to shrink...

looked a bit nervous

 

[Starfox5]

More developments. And yeah, sure, that was an accident, Ron.

Click to shrink...

Which one?

Typos:

Click to shrink...

Thanks! Corrected them.

 

[Ack]

Which one?.

Click to shrink...

Inverting Hermione so that her camisole rode up.

 

[Starfox5]

Inverting Hermione so that her camisole rode up.

Click to shrink...

He might have expected her to have enchanted it against that possibility. That's a Story he can stick to - and it'll make Hermione wonder why she didn't. Until she remembers that she might want the top to ride up in some situations. And that she doesn't have the time to waste on such spells. Unless of course those poaching purebloods keep trying.

 

[macdjord]

Harry Potter hadn't visited the teacher too often, despite a standing invitation for tea. Luna though could consider the hut her home away from home - the half-giant was a close friend of the Lovegoods, and a regular contributor to their magazine. So the group of friends was following the blonde Ravenclaw as she made good speed towards the cottage.

Not everyone was similarly enthusiastic. Hermione, Harry's girlfriend, was looking forward to find out more about their newest professors, and would welcome any information the teacher let slip about magical animals. Aicha as Luna's best friend was a regular herself, but more reserved than the blonde witch, and looked a bit uneasy. Ron seemed more concerned with scanning the environment for dangers than the visit itself, an attitude Harry tended to share. With good reason, he thought, with Voldemort's forces out there, somewhere. The rest of their friends had declined to come along - Padma was already studying for their O.W.L.s, Neville was doing extra-credit work for Professor Sprout, and Ginny was helping the green-thumbed Gryffindor.

Click to shrink...

This bit seems odd - you're very conspicuously using full names and mentioning relationships we already know about, like it was the start of a new book or something.

 

[Starfox5]

This bit seems odd - you're very conspicuously using full names and mentioning relationships we already know about, like it was the start of a new book or something.

Click to shrink...

I rewrote that slightly, though I only removed "his girlfriend" and added a line at the start of the scene. I usually use the full name of the POV character when starting their scene, so I started with Harry in the rewrite. Aicha is mentioned as Luna's best friend to explain her regular visits. I don't see other relationships and full names mentioned than those though.

 

[macdjord]

I rewrote that slightly, though I only removed "his girlfriend" and added a line at the start of the scene. I usually use the full name of the POV character when starting their scene, so I started with Harry in the rewrite. Aicha is mentioned as Luna's best friend to explain her regular visits. I don't see other relationships and full names mentioned than those though.

Click to shrink...

The use of Harry's full name, the 'his girlfriend' thing, and, to a lesser extent, the mention of Aicha as Luna's friend were the big one. The way you listed all their close friend in the course of explaining why they were not present only added to the sense of 'And here are the characters you may have forgotten since last time!', but, with the big ones fixed, they don't seem out of place on their own.
For the Aicha part, I'd suggest rephrasing it slightly to make it sound more natural. Something like: "Aicha was a regular herself, of course, thanks to her relationship with Luna, but, being more reserved than the blonde witch, she looked a bit uneasy."

 

[turbinicarpus]

Good chapter. I like the action scenes.

"Alright. We're missing one, so if you see it, call. Careful when stunning them, they're fragile little things, even when enlarged a bit."

Click to shrink...

Q: What do you do when confronted with an extremely aggressive and venomous spider?
A: Make it into a giant extremely aggressive and venomous spider, to get a better look.

with a box of for the badges

Click to shrink...

The young muggleborn witch was certain that the result would have been far different if she had included a wish to harm herself in the trigger condition - but then, as a prominent true muggleborn, and retainer of Harry Potter, a great many witches probably wished her harm, if only to have a better shot at her Patron, so it wouldn't have served its intended purpose.

Click to shrink...

Neat detail. I was wondering why she only included Harry, but, yeah, lots of False Positives there.

"Could you show me how to point-cast a shield spell again?"

Click to shrink...

Interesting worldbuilding element to complement nonverbal casting. Could also work as plausible headcanon, since it does seem that many of the spells taught later have less complex wand movements than early spells.

 

[Starfox5]

The use of Harry's full name, the 'his girlfriend' thing, and, to a lesser extent, the mention of Aicha as Luna's friend were the big one. The way you listed all their close friend in the course of explaining why they were not present only added to the sense of 'And here are the characters you may have forgotten since last time!', but, with the big ones fixed, they don't seem out of place on their own.

Click to shrink...

Thing is, people do forget characters and relationships at times.

For the Aicha part, I'd suggest rephrasing it slightly to make it sound more natural. Something like: "Aicha was a regular herself, of course, thanks to her relationship with Luna, but, being more reserved than the blonde witch, she looked a bit uneasy."

Click to shrink...

I rewrote the sentence a bit.

Good chapter. I like the action scenes.

Q: What do you do when confronted with an extremely aggressive and venomous spider.
A: Make it into a giant extremely aggressive and venomous spider, to get a better look.

Click to shrink...

Yep yep. Though to be honest - a larger spider can be hit more easily.

Neat detail. I was wondering why she only included Harry, but, yeah, lots of False Positives there.

Click to shrink...

She's also had some trouble "calibraten" the intent-detection part.

Interesting worldbuilding element to complement nonverbal casting. Could also work as plausible headcanon, since it does seem that many of the spells taught later have less complex wand movements than early spells.

Click to shrink...

I think most of the verbal and somatic components are not necessary, and can be substituted by the correct mental image. Usually at a loss of power, efficiency or speed though.

Thanks for the typos, correcting them!

 

[Starfox5]

Chapter 27: Spies

"And that's all for today. Good work, everyone. We'll continue next week."

Hermione Granger had to force herself to keep a polite smile on her face as Harry Potter concluded the first lesson of the Hogwarts Self-defense Club. Too many accursed pureblood witches were making eyes at her boyfriend. None of them had changed hair colors, or shown any other signs of her curse, at least. Though knowing that the girls trying to poach Harry didn't want to harm him was a small consolation for the muggleborn witch in love with her Patron. At least Susan Bones had stopped trying to be overly friendly, but that could be just the result of the much closer scrutiny she was now under, with her aunt being one of the Ministry's most exposed leaders in the war against Voldemort. It was a miracle the Hufflepuff witch didn't have permanent auror guards assigned to her, and according to rumors, Dumbledore had to personally vouch for the girl's safety to avoid that.

"Oh, Mister Potter! That was very interesting! You're a great teacher!" Daphne Greengrass beamed at Harry, a wide smile on her too pretty face. Hadn't the airhead understood that the training session was over, and that she should move out (and on)?

"Indeed. You have improved even more since your already very impressive performance in the Triwizard Tournament." Davis chimed in. Shouldn't the brunette steer the blonde into the right direction, namely away, instead of joining her?

Harry smiled politely at the Slytherin witches. "Thank you, Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis. But I am merely giving you all a few hints; I am far from a qualified instructor."

Hermione busied herself with cleaning up the room, vanishing debris and repairing some of the destroyed furniture and flooring, while she kept an eye and ear on the conversation. She noticed Parkinson was lingering at the door and glaring at the back of the two other Slytherins. For a moment, Hermione was taken aback. Sharing the opinion of the girl who had been too dumb to dump Malfoy for years on anything wasn't a comfortable position to be in. Then again, Parkinson liked muggle movies too, and there was nothing wrong with that. Ron was at the door, not letting that witch out of his sight. The rest of their friends were discussing the session at the back, near the rest of the snacks.

"I am sure you could teach me anything, anywhere!" Greengrass breathed. If her clothes were as bad as her lines, then her robe would split right then, from the strain of trying to keep the chest covered that the girl was all but pushing into Harry. If she wanted to make her intentions even more obvious, she'd have to conjure a bed and strip down.

"That's very flattering, but I fear my talents do not quite match your expectations," Harry answered. Hermione noted that his smile wasn't yet frozen, and still lacked the slightly feral touch it usually had when he was talking to Malfoy, but his eyes were cold. It would be very satisfying to see him send the blonde hussy away with a few choice sentences that revealed her foolishness for everyone to see, like he had done to Malfoy so often in the past. Satisfying, but ultimately counter-productive.

"I think that may be too modest of you, Mister Potter." Davis added, and her smile didn't change. Hermione would have loved to cut in, and ask if Davis meant that Greengrass was 'easy'.

"Modesty is a virtue." Harry answered. He looked over at Hermione.

The muggleborn witch at once stopped vanishing and repairing piecemeal, and finished the room with two spells while heading over to her boyfriend. "My Patron." She bowed slightly.

"My Wand." Harry turned a bit away from the two Slytherins, and nodded to her.

Hermione stepped closer to him. "The room's been restored to the state it was when we arrived."

"I think it's time to return to our dorms then." Harry turned back to the two other witches, and his warm smile became merely polite again. "If you will excuse me, Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis. The tutoring has left me a bit tired, and I'd rather not risk disappointing your expectations due to exhaustion."

The two girls smiled, but took the hint and left, with Parkinson just a few steps ahead of them. Hermione followed Harry, silently glaring at his head. Did he have to encourage them by flirting at the end?

*****​

Ron Weasley watched the last three Slytherin witches file out. He didn't know what Parkinson had been planning, but he knew she hadn't been able to slip anything by him - he had hadn't left her out of his view. Once the door closed behind them, he allowed himself to relax a bit and headed to Padma and the others, in the back. Hopefully there were some cauldron cakes left.

"I thought they'd never leave!" he exclaimed.

"Really?" Padma asked, with a frown.

"Yes. Parkinson was hanging around the door, probably trying to put a curse on it on the sly. I didn't let her out of my sight though, until she finally gave up." Ron smiled at his girlfriend. "What's wrong, Padma?"

"Nothing." The Ravenclaw answered, and levitated a cauldron cake towards him. Of course, this meant something was wrong.

"Thanks!" He beamed at her. She knew him well. But perhaps not too well. He took a bite out of the cake, then left it floating next to him while he slipped his arm around her. "I'd rather have been watching you, but you're not about to hex me as soon as I let you out of my sight."

Padma smiled, then pouted. "Maybe I should be." She used her wand to restore her hairstyle to the more complicated and less practical version she had worn before the training, Ron noted.

Ron chuckled. "That's not what I meant. But Parkinson will give up whatever she's planning soon enough. As soon as she realizes that we're on to her."

"That might take a long time given her track record," Hermione smiled, showing her teeth. "It took her years to dump Malfoy, after all."

"She might have gotten a bit smarter in that time," Harry added, following Ron's example and wrapping an arm around the waist of his girlfriend.

Ron took another bite from the floating cake. "So, what did we learn? Other than that witches have the hots for Harry and Parkinson is planning something?" When he saw Hermione pressing her lips together he wished he hadn't been quite so flippant. He knew his best female friend was not taking the whole "Harry hunting", as Padma had told him her sister called it, well.

"We now have a decent picture of the ability of our fellow students to defend themselves." Harry stated.

"And it's not a great picture." Ron commented. "Most of them don't have the stamina to handle prolonged combat. Even the duelists are not in the shape they should be."

"We might have a bit too stringent standards though," Neville added. Ginny, next to him, nodded.

Ron realized his sister lately was found very often next to his friend. He almost sighed. Ginny wasn't raised by muggles, unlike his best friends, but she might not take Neville starting his 6th year well. Not if Neville stuck to tradition. He'd have to ponder that another day. Right now he had to focus on the session, and their real problems.

"The problem is that the Defense Course is more focused on learning and casting spells and knowing the weaknesses of various enemies and spells, instead of the actual application of that knowledge," Hermione had slipped into her docent voice. "And dueling is a sport, with rules and limits. The duelists do better than the rest, but I am certain that none of them will fare well if we switched to group tactics."

"The focus of the club is on evading and escaping," Harry reminded her. "We're not exactly producing hit-wizards here." He rubbed Hermione's back when she sighed.

"Our plans to create an army of battle-wizards to defeat the Dark Lord have been foiled!" Luna exclaimed dramatically. "What will we do now?"

"Well, if we wanted to recruit students, there are a few promising candidates." Hermione didn't say what or who they'd be recruiting for.

"How many of them would stick with us after one lessons with our resident torturers?" Padma frowned. Ron pulled her a bit closer - the witch didn't really like the training with Sirius and Remus.

"More than you'd expect, I think," Hermione stated. "With the Daily Prophet reporting so many incidents, people are scared. And fear is a great motivator."

Padma tensed up. Ron knew Hermione hadn't meant to attack his girlfriend - the muggleborn witch was far more direct in such cases - but he also knew Padma was quite jealous of Hermione's ability to excel academically, and still fare much better in combat training than her. You could only chat about your best friends so often before you noticed how the mood was affected by certain topics. He spoke up to move the discussion on. "Did anyone notice anything suspicious?" That had been one of their greatest concerns, after all.

"Parkinson didn't stare at Harry, but she was impressed by your last two repair and vanishing spells, Hermione," Luna finished her soft drink. "I think thats quite suspicious."

"Why?" Aicha spoke up, with the wary but curious tone any of the quirky Ravenclaw's friends was very familiar with.

"If she's not after Harry, but pays attention to Hermione, then that leads us to the conclusion that she is interested in her, not him. You've got a romantic rival, Harry!" the blonde nodded sagely at the Boy-Who-Lived, who seemed amused. Hermione though was staring at Luna with an appalled expression. "But fear not! I shall protect your body with my own, if needed!"

"Thanks, Luna." Hermione's tone was dryer than a salt desert.

"It'll be my pleasure!" Luna beamed at her.

"That's what I thought," the muggleborn witch weakly smiled.

"That aside, Parkinson has to have a motive to attend, and I doubt that she's only wishing to learn how to dodge spells," Ron tried to get the discussion back on track. "She could learn that from another tutor. Her family probably has some on call anyway, given their reputation."

"Well, you'll have to find out, Ron," Harry nodded at him. "You seem to have the best shot, given how nice she was acting towards you during the session."

Padma tensed up again, and Ron felt like testing Harry's reflexes with a few hexes. He knew the other wizard was correct, though. And Ron'd do it too, of course. But not eagerly. "Can't we just kidnap her, dose her with veritaserum and obliviate her?"

"In the current climate, people are more cautious." Hermione shook her head. "We could probably pull that off, and probably avoid too much trouble, if we have a good plan and use all our means, but I do not think it's worth it. This is Parkinson, after all. The girl who thought Malfoy was a good boyfriend for years. Not exactly the brightest and most dangerous witch in school."

"She was pretty good today," Ron added. "Better than average, but I see your point." A glance told him that Padma certainly thought dosing Parkinson was worth the risk.

"Other than Parkinson, did anyone else act suspiciously?" Hermione asked. Ron and the others shook their head. "As long as Ron handles the love-struck witches, we're good then."

Ron glanced at Padma, and winced at her expression. He really wished Hermione would understand that not everyone was as used to playing a role in public as the muggleborn witch and her Patron. And that not everyone trusted their love as much as those two did.

*****​

"Lucrecia Browtuckle was killed four days ago. Did you know?"

Albus Dumbledore, sitting behind his desk, winced at the tone of his brother, who had just flooed in. Aberforth usually was cold, even hostile, whenever they met, but he was rarely angry. Today he held himself straight as a broomhandle, and as stiff. And his eyes… the last time he had seen that expression had been after the Intervention. "I didn't know." He had suspected, after hearing of a remarkable fight in a tavern so skillfully sealed, a team of aurors hadn't managed to break in in time to stop it. There were very few wizards or witches capable of such a feat, and not that many more able to last as long against such a foe. He had suspected, but hoped he was wrong. Lucrecia hadn't been a friend, but at his age, anyone passing who he had known that long was a heavy blow.

"Killed by the Dark Lord, while trying to spy on the scum in Knockturn Alley." Aberforth didn't take a seat. Fawkes trilled, consolingly, but the old wizard didn't even spare the phoenix a glance. "What a bloody waste!"

Albus took a deep breath, but didn't say anything. Aberforth was just waiting for an excuse, any excuse, to vent.

"A few days before that, Mathilda Miller was almost killed by Death Eaters." Aberforth put down both hands on Albus's desk, staring at his eyes. The Headmaster nodded at his brother.

"One of my friends dead, another escaped thanks to luck. The Dark Lord casually wipes out an entire tavern while the aurors watch from outside. The Longbottoms lose a whole family of their retainers. Lockhart has to flee to Hogwarts. What the hell are you doing, Albus?!" Aberforth's chest was heaving and he was grinding his teeth. "Where are the dead Death Eaters? Where are you when people are dying?"

Albus's years of experience in politics allowed him to keep his expression neutral. "The Dark Lord has lost quite a number of his men and women in those incidents."

"Don't give me that line, Albus! He lost a few idiots! Curse Fodder! None of them were marked! Where are the dead real Death Eaters?" Aberforth shouted at Albus, and the Headmaster could smell the firewhiskey on his brother's breath.

"They are using expendable wands for most of the raids. My friends are ready, and doing what they can, but with the risk of the Dark Lord taking part in a raid, they have to be careful, lest they run into an ambush themselves," he calmly explained.

"Rubbish! If the Dark Lord is around, they simply have to call you to counter him." Aberforth shoved the bowl of lemon drops on Albus's desk away with enough force to make it hit the wall before it tumbled to the ground, spilling the sweets. The Headmaster managed to summon them back before they hit the floor, but not before Fawkes had swallowed a couple, trilling in triumph.

"That is likely exactly what he wants me to do: To commit to one place, so he can devastate another." Albus didn't let his own anger and frustration show.

"So don't play his game! Don't wait for him, hit his followers!"

"I would - would I know where they are. They are not exactly announcing their presence when they are not wearing their masks." Albus didn't add that finding the Death Eaters and their allies was what Aberforth's 'friends' were supposed to be doing. He didn't have to, his brother knew that very well.

Aberforth glared at him, then, finally, sat down. "Mathilda is working on finding a high-ranked follower. But even with the two bungling aurors she managed to recruit, that's very dangerous. My friends can't provide the kind of backup she and they need. Not with them being scattered around Britain, and even on foreign shores, doing your work."

Albus raised an eyebrow. His brother might not be as young as he had been during the Grindelwald war, or the Intervention, but he was one of the few wizards Albus wasn't certain he could beat in a fair fight. If he was asking for more help, did that mean he didn't think his own presence would be enough?

Aberforth scoffed. "I'm not getting any younger, Albus. And I don't have your advantage."

Albus stiffened, but didn't glance at his wand holster. He suspected Aberforth knew about the Elder Wand, but neither of them had ever spoken of it.

Aberforth waved his hand. "I can still handle anyone but the Dark Lord. But if there are more of them… I might take too long to provide the help a friend might need."

Albus knew what it cost his brother to ask him for help. He'd never have done it, if not for the death of Lucrecia.

"Not Fletcher. And none of your pet aurors either. I don't want any friction with your most respectable friends." Aberforth added in a mocking tone.

Albus almost frowned. Beggars shouldn't be choosers. Then again, he needed Aberforth's help. Well, there was one possibility. No auror, no Fletcher, and Albus didn't want to send his less experienced friends out. He smiled. "I know just the wizard to call then."

Sirius had been getting restless anyway. Even with Harry's training and four veela to occupy his mind.

*****​

Gilderoy Lockhart hadn't thought that he could be utterly terrified simply by listening to two friends chat at Hogwarts, but Jenny and Hagrid had just proven him wrong.

"If we cross those two spiders, and then mate the result with dwarf acromantulas…" Jenny was floating two of those australian monsters, enlarged even, around to illustrate her plans.

"It's not t' sure that th' spidermantulas would be smart enough t' follow instructions." Hagrid peered at one of the beasts, unimpressed by the spider's apparent attempt to savage his finger. "And they'd breed. If they're t' small, they can breed without anyone th' wiser. Bit dangerous for the' other creatures. Probably for muggles too."

"Can you even cross non-magical spiders?" Gilderoy didn't recall any such feat done, but then, no one might have cared about it.

"Ne'er tried. Hadn't found any interesting muggle critter so far." Hagrid shrugged. "Didn't ever visit Australia, 'f course."

"I could get some magical spiders from Australia, if muggle spiders don't work. Outback Doublelegs, probably." Jenny turned the redback spider around. "Would go nicely with that body type."

"Aren't those the spiders that can split their shadow off, and then travel through it?"

"Yes, very fascinating critters, Gil!" Jenny beamed at him. "They hunt in packs, and can bring down Giant Kangas easily. Imagine a pack of them hunting Death Eaters!"

"And how would they recognize Death Eaters?" Gilderoy's current smile wouldn't even have made the top 100 of Witch Weekly.

"We'd banish them at the Death Eaters. Or fill a trap box with them. They would work as area denial too." Jenny explained enthusiastically.

"And how do you keep them from attacking other people after they have run out of Death Eaters?" The author winced at the idea.

"Good point. We need a smarter monster then." Jenny frowned.

"Trainable, yes!" Hagrid smiled. "But then…. war's not a good place for animals anyway. T' dangerous."

Gilderoy would have mentioned that that was kind of the point, but he didn't want to make Hagrid reconsider weaponizing such monsters. At least they were seeing reason.

"I guess we'll have to settle for conjured spiders. Those cannot breed, and they vanish when the spell ends." Jenny pouted. "We'll just have to learn the best spiders to conjure."

"Maybe we can cross those muggle spiders, and then learn to conjure th' result?" Hagrid had a big grin on his face. "Th' critters would be safe, but we could still use'em in th' war."

Gilderoy shivered at what mental image those words conjured.

*****​

Keith Yennington shuddered, rubbing his arms. It didn't help. He hadn't expected it to help, not when the warming charm on his robes didn't do anything against the unnatural cold. He couldn't simply do nothing while he froze though. His ragged breath was fogging, and the dead grass around him was covered with frost.

But the worst wasn't the cold. It was the memories. Remembering his worst failures, his worst regrets… he struggled with the anger, pain and shame filling him. And the closer he got to the abandoned mansion that the Dark Lord's most terrible allies, the dementors, were gathered in, the worse it got.

He didn't want to go in. He wanted to turn around, flee, escape. But there was no choice. This was his punishment for failing the Dark Lord. Trembling, he reached the door, which opened at his touch. Behind it, the dementors were already waiting, eagerly, he assumed. They knew what happened when someone came to visit. He was sobbing now, the tears freezing on his face, as he entered this den of horrors.

The demons surrounded him at once, their inhuman figures and faces hidden by tattered robes and hoods. They floated around him, reaching out to him, then recoiled when they saw the amulet he was wearing. Keith was close to collapsing from the effect of their aura. His body felt as if it was freezing solid, and his mind was caught in a whirlwind of trauma and shame.

And yet he didn't give up. Didn't get overwhelmed, like anyone else would have been. Didn't break. Instead he snarled at them, his hatred warming him enough to pull out half a dozen sticks and throwing them into the midst of the horde. Hissing, he drew his wand and undid the transfiguration of the muggles he had captured. The dementors immediately went for the six muggles, almost entering a feeding frenzy.

As he had been ordered by his master, Keith stayed until the last muggle's soul had been sucked out. Once more the dementors swarmed around him, almost but not quite touching him, and he heard the hint of whispers before they left. His limbs were so cold, he had lost almost all feeling in them. White spots covered the exposed skin. He knew he'd need a healer after this, to treat frostbite, maybe worse.

Hissing, he aimed his wand at the soulless husks left on the floor.

"Avada Kedavra!"

As he killed and vanished the muggles one by one, he swore that those aurors whose escape had caused this punishment would pay for it. Pay with their very souls!

*****​

"This sounds backwards. Why would we infiltrate the "Silver Siren" if we want to know what's going on in the "Pleasing Pixie"? Kenneth Fenbrick didn't even try to hide his suspicions when he addressed his new and self-appointed 'partner', Mathilda. If that even was her real name. His old and real partner, Bertha Limmington, was supposed to support him, but she remained silent. The glares the witch sent at the courtesan spoke volumes though.

"Darling, I explained that already. The 'Pixie' is a gambling and pleasure den, run by Finnegan Greenbrand. One of the Dark Lord's men. He'll be expecting us, and know your faces. The 'Siren' belongs to Esmeralda Burke, who has been very careful to stay neutral in this war. Hence it's considered neutral ground." Mathilda sighed, and Kenneth had the distinct impression she was annoyed at him.

"She's a fool then. The Dark Lord will take over her business as well," Bertha stated.

"Ultimately, yes. But at the current point, trying to take over Burke's business would galvanize the remaining 'old crowd' of Knockturn Alley into opposing him with all they have left. They'd lose, but they'd hurt him," Mathilda explained. "Neither will break the truce, informal as it is."

Kenneth blinked. "Merlin, do you plan to make them break the truce? Set the old scum against the Dark Lord?"

The other witch shook her head. "No, I want to gather information from some of the regulars of both venues. Though I'd not mind if what you proposed would happen, as long as I am not in the line of curses when it does."

"The other gangs might just cut and run if that happens. Darrin Stanson's fate was a clear demonstration of the Dark Lord's power." Bertha countered.

"Those who are afraid have already fled. The rest are entrenched. They've been in the Alley for generations, they won't leave as long as they see a chance." Mathilda stated while examining her appearance once more. Not that she had to, in Kenneth's opinion - the French-trained courtesan looked as attractive or alluring as her reputation indicated. She must have noticed his glances, since she smirked at him and let her robe show a bit more cleavage. And since the skimpy thing already showed her navel, that was no mean feat.

A stinging hex to his buttocks interrupted his current trail of thoughts. He sent a grateful smile to his partner - she had just broken the siren's spell on him. "So, what's the plan? We wait outside, ready to spring you if you call?" Kenneth sounded as casually professional as he could, after his gaffe.

"Merlin, no! Burke's no fool, the second a fight breaks out inside, the 'Siren' is locked down. You'd have to fight through the guards outside, and break through the wards, to reach me. No, I'll need you inside, with me. That way you can also do something more useful than staying around and attracting the wrong kind of attention."

Kenneth nodded. It sounded convincing. And he would rather wait inside than outside. Sometimes people in the seedy alley got desperate, and would even take on two armed and ready mercenaries. "I guess two more wands for hire won't look out of place there." He grinned - he'd have to play his role well, of course.

"The Dark Lord's minions will be looking for a new pair of wands for hire, so that won't work well. Three courtesans though…" Mathilda grinned, and with a flick of her wand, two robes floated towards Kenneth and his partner. Skimpy, frilly robes. He exchanged a glance with Bertha, who was staring at the robe coming towards her as if it was a basilisk, and turned back to vehemently oppose this idea on her behalf when the spy continued: "Aberforth agrees with the plan, and he and a few of his brother's friends will be our backup."

The auror closed his mouth at once. He didn't want to oppose Dumbledore - any Dumbledore.

"Now get dressed, so we can start your training." Mathilda clapped her hands together.

"Training?" Kenneth and Bertha asked in unison.

"Well, of course. You can't pass for apprentice-courtesans without some training." The spy shook her head at the two aurors. "Merlin, did you honestly expect we'd jump into this this evening? Amateurs! If you're quick studies, we'll be ready in a week!"

Kenneth blinked. Then he realized - courtesan training. With the very attractive spy, and his partner...

"Get your mind out of the gutter, darling! I'll be teaching you how to move, act and speak so people will think you're a courtesan in training. We're not going to train in bed."

The spy was shaking her head at him, and Bertha was glaring at him. What had he done to deserve this?

*****​

"Are you certain you wish to take part in this?"

Remus Lupin watched while Sirius addressed his four lovely … lovers. Chantal, Eugénie, Laure and Valérie were sitting in the salon in Grimmauld Place 12, sprawled over the couch there, with a spot left free in the middle of the four.

Chantal nodded. "Yes, we are." The other three veela nodded their agreement.

"Alright then," Sirius smiled and went to sit down on the couch. "Now, Dumbledore said that our first mission..."

"What?" Remus stared at him. Did his friend really just … he shook his head in disbelief and stood up. "Sirius has failed to explain this properly. This is very dangerous. The Dark Lord has many followers, and the death toll is rising each day. Among the Death Eaters are some of the most brutal, lethal wands in Britain, maybe the world. Facing them means risking your life. Are you really sure you want to do this? You are guests here, your family is in France." He glared at Sirius again. Didn't his friend see that he was responsible for those girls coming to Britain? How could he let them risk their lives so causally? Yes, they were honor-bound to defend their host, but that meant defending the house, not going out and attacking Death Eaters.

The four were all staring at him as if Remus was the lunatic in the room. And Sirius was doing it too!

Valérie, who had slid into Sirius lap as soon as the wizard had sat down, shifted a bit and met Remus's eyes. "You're wrong," the young veela declared. "Our family is 'ere."

Chantal added: "Our parents and our heads are aware of this."

Eugénie nodded. "They didn't call Fleur back, even though she's the youngest d'Aigle in Britain, and 'ell-bent on 'elping 'er Beel".

"But…" Remus shook his head. They were so young, they had all their lives still ahead of them.

"Did you 'esitate, or even consider not fighting, back when you'd just graduated?" Laure, sitting on the armrest, asked.

Remus hadn't an answer for that, and sat down. He looked at Sirius, who smiled lopsidedly at him.

"They got you there, Moony. We've been in their place, and we did the same thing." Sirius's hand held Valérie's.

Remus then finally realized that his family had truly grown. He must have missed it since he had been at Hogwarts, though that was no excuse. He just hoped these four wouldn't suffer as the Marauders had suffered.

*****​

Sirius Black smiled, a bit sadly, at Remus as the werewolf sank into his seat. He was Sirius' best friend, but he spent most of his time at Hogwarts. As a result, he didn't know his girls that well. Remus probably didn't know him that well either, Sirius suspected. They had been separated for more than a decade, after all, and both had changed a lot. And Sirius trying to relive his youth hadn't helped, or so he thought.

Well, Remus would get over it. Sirius pulled Valérie closer to him, resting his chin on her shoulder and inhaling her scent. He knew she was smiling, and would be closing her eyes for just a second. If he could, he'd stay like this forever - surrounded by his family. Safe. Happy.

Sighing, he spoke up. "Now, before I was so rudely interrupted," he grinned at Remus, who glared at him, "I was about to tell you what I heard from Dumbledore." That made Remus straighten in his seat, and Sirius both saw and felt the veela shift on the couch. "The old man told me that he needs a group of wands who can react and strike rapidly. Since we don't have jobs or other responsibilities other than enjoying life, we're a good choice for that, unlike Moony over there, who has been working on suppressing the spirits of students for a few years now."

Remus rolled his eyes at that, as expected. Sirius's grin widened. He pulled out a few discs from his enchanted robe's pocket. "Our first mission is to provide backup for some spies, if needed. Those will alert us if that's the case. If they are vibrating, we'll meet up here, then head out. Just wear them as a ring, or as another piece of jewelry. No kinky business though - they are from the Headmaster, and you never know what he can do with them!" His girlfriends giggled, and even Remus had to smile at that.

"We'll not be the only ones, of course. Remus will be joining us as well, if he doesn't have detentions to oversee, or tests to grade. Nymphadora will help out, if her job and boyfriend leave her time enough." Sirius kept his tone light, but watched if Remus showed any reaction. His friend said he had gotten over the metamorphmagus, but Moony always had been the most serious among the Marauders, not one to love and leave like the others. Not counting James' obsession with Lily, of course, or the traitor's lack of luck with witches. Sirius's friend didn't twitch or brood, so he took that as a good sign. "Bill and Fleur are also joining us, so I am thinking of calling us the Double-V-Force. Veela Victory!"

Remus groaned at that, but his girlfriends giggled.

The teacher shook his head. "Please be careful. You'll be facing trained killers."

"Moony, we've not spent our days in bed. We've been training too, for a while. Trust me, the girls have what it takes. They're better than we were when we started." Much better, counting their ability to throw fireballs and transform.

Remus sighed. "This has been coming for some time then?"

Sirius wasn't sure if his friend was talking about the training, or his relationship. Eithe way, he nodded. "Yes, Moony."

"Guess you've finally grown up. Who'd have thought?"

"Hey!" Sirius frowned when his friend laughed and his girlfriends giggled again. He was happy too though. Maybe Moony knew him better than he thought.

*****​

"No, no, no! You are far too forward, darling." Mathilda Miller shook her head at the male auror. "You need to be confident, assured of yourself, but not pushy or arrogant."

"Some witches like that."

"Some witches pretend to like that, more likely. But you forgot again: As a courtesan, you're not hitting on witches to seduce them, you are trying to entice them to hire you. Pushing yourself on them just makes you appear cheap or desperate. And that's no way to do business in this business," Mathilda lectored the auror. She noticed his partner smirking, behind his back, and almost smiled. The witch had been acting rather hostile so far, so it was good to see her loosen up some.

"I've never had problems. Lots of witches could tell you that." Kenneth grumbled.

"That was as an auror. Big, bad, impressive. You can't act like that as a courtesan." Mathilda didn't mention that once you got a reputation, once people competed for your attention, you could act like that. She had been in that position, once. And had lost it all. Or given it up. But if she mentioned that, then the fool would let his ego drive him to act like that, and cause their mission to fail.

"Why aren't you telling her what she's doing wrong?" The auror pointed at his partner.

"She's not doing anything wrong. She's cool, classy, and smart. She'll draw her share of attention in the 'Siren'." Perhaps a bit too cold, even if some wizards liked that kind of fake challenge. But it was just a cover, after all. They wouldn't be doing real business. Not unless it was needed.

She noticed that Kenneth was staring at his partner, blinking, then grinning. "Did you just tell her she's acting like a courtesan when she's just being herself?"

Mathilda rubbed her forehead while Bertha made her displeasure of that remark known with some very creative language that made the other auror cringe. Well, she had planned to take a week to train the pair enough to pass muster. It looked like she'd need every single evening.

*****​

"Really? You faced half a dozen of Macedonian Marauders?"

"Oh, yes. Just me, and my wand. But they were spread out, and I had their number. First, I took out their leader…"

Kenneth Fenbrick tuned the witch's tale out for a moment. He felt exposed. Vulnerable. He knew his robes only looked flimsy. That the spells on them were actually stronger than the ones on his "civilian robes". He knew he was not unprotected. But the looks he was getting, in the 'Silver Siren'... he really missed his auror robes. The witches and wizards would look differently at him. Granted, they'd curse him too. But he wasn't certain if that wouldn't be preferable.

Bertha Limmington didn't seem to be affected, even though her robes were as skimpy as his, just cut differently. If he focused on her head, he could imagine her watching a crime scene easily. Well, focusing on her head was a bit of a challenge, right now. And on a crime scene, she'd be crouching, bending over, and doing all sorts of things that her current attire was not meant to do. Or was meant to do, given their cover.

He shook his head, and again listened to the wand for hire trying to impress him with obviously fictional tales of daring victories against Balkan mercenaries. She wasn't ugly, she was actually rather pretty, but she was grabby, and her attitude grated on his nerves. And he couldn't help but adding charges in his head during her tales - from breaking and entering to murder.

On the other hand, as long as he was flirting with her, no one else should be bothering him, and she seemed content to tell her tales, buy him drinks, and cop a feel. Rather easy to handle. He was here to protect the spy, after all.

And he was faring better than Bertha, who had to deal with two pushy scumbags trying to outdo each other in their attempts to impress her. Kenneth had wanted to curse both of them a few times already just to shut them up, but his partner had a much bigger tolerance for such idiots. Probably a childhood trauma.

Their spy was sitting with a bulky wizard. Gerard Bulstrode, if Kenneth had overheard his boasting introduction correctly. The wizard had been slightly slurring his words already. But, as far as they knew, he was a regular in the "Pleasing Pixie" as well, and probably well-connected too in the sort of circles that wouldn't mind the Dark Lord taking over.

So, the mission, such as it was, was going well. That would be worth some more embarrassment, or gropes. Probably. At least he would be getting paid overtime for this, and didn't have to work as a babysitter during Hogsmeade weekends. He'd like it even more if he could list the training sessions with Mathilda as overtime as well, but that would mean he'd have to explain why he'd needed special training, and what kind. And that information was something that wouldn't ever reach the auror office.

The grabby witch pulled him closer again, not noticing how fake his smile and laughter at her flat and crude jokes was. Kenneth hoped their spy would hurry up so they could leave.

*****​

"We'll never speak about this evening again."

Mathilda Miller carefully didn't smile when she and the two undercover aurors gathered again in her safe house after they had left the 'Siren'. She felt like it though - Kenneth's declaration was funny. But the two were already glaring daggers at her.

"We were successful though. Dear Gerard was quite talkative. Apparently, the 'Pixie' is full of 'the right sort of people in this war', and Keith Yennington is a regular there - and influential. It looks like that's one base for the Dark Lord. Gerard also mentioned that the brothel has lately been offering a 'novelty service', as he called it: Muggles. Foreign muggles even, he didn't know the country." Mathilda said.

"Muggle trafficking?" The wizard used his wand to remove the muggle make-up that had helped with his disguise. "Why would they do that, and why now, in the middle of a war?"

"The muggles change frequently, and the owner of the place does not care if they get 'damaged'," the courtesan continued in a grim tone.

"It makes sense then. While kidnapping British Muggles on that scale would endanger the Statute of Secrecy, there are a number of countries where muggles can go missing in large numbers without anyone growing suspicious." Bertha explained.

"I can't believe they'd smuggle muggles to Britain just for a brothel. That's not exactly profitable, and they could use anyone involved in this for more important tasks." Ken conjured a screen and changed his robes.

"So they are important somehow, for the Dark Lord. Sacrifices for rituals?" Mathilda didn't wince, even though that thought brought up memories she'd rather not think about.

"That, and… he'll need to feed his dementors somehow. There haven't been enough kidnappings to sustain them, and we haven't heard of muggles falling prey to them either," Bertha added.

This time Mathilda did wince. To be fed to a dementor… her soul devoured… a fate worse than death indeed. She resolved again to not let the Death Eaters capture her alive, if it came to it.

Kenneth spoke up almost eagerly though: "That means we can raid it with all the force we need."

Mathilda thought it would be a good idea to stay away from Knockturn Alley for a while.

*****​

"I've got news."

Harry Potter looked up from the book he was reading in their private room. Ron had just entered, an excited expression on his face. Nearby, Hermione glanced over, but didn't interrupt her experiment.

Ron summoned a butterbeer from their stash, and sat down next to Harry. "Fred and George just had a meeting with McGonagall. Apparently, she thinks they hexed Marietta Edgecombe, since the girl's hair has changed color and she had a persistent pimple on her forehead, with neither of them reacting to the usual counter-curses or remedies."

"Edgecombe?" Harry wasn't familiar with that name.

"Ravenclaw sixth year. Rather shy and quiet. She is a friend of Cho Chang." Hermione explained.

"Ah!" Harry knew the Ravenclaw seeker from Quidditch, but had never bothered to get to know her friends.

"So, we know she means Harry ill, but we don't know what she's planning. Spying, or something worse?" Ron finished his butterbeer.

"It's always the quiet ones…" Harry quoted, and Hermione sniggered while Ron blinked. He explained to his friend: "It's a muggle saying. It means that the quiet people can be the most dangerous."

"Ah." Ron nodded, not asking further. "So, what do we do now? I guess interrogating her is out of the question?"

"That would only alert those working with her to the fact that we know about her." Hermione shook her head.

"If she's not acting alone." Ron added.

Harry frowned. "The curse didn't trigger in the first meeting, so she would have changed her intentions about me in a week, all by herself. I think it's more likely that someone is behind her, or at least influencing her."

"Influencing her?" Hermione frowned. "I'll have to check if there are spells on her during the next meeting."

"Pomfrey should have found them if Edgecombe has gone to her about the curse's effect." Harry said.

"She might not have been looking for compulsion spells or worse, if it looks just like a prank." Hermione defended her idea. "Besides, it won't hurt us to check her."

"She could have been bribed easily," Ron spoke up. "Gold moves hearts, as Lockhart said once, and the Edgecombes are not particularly rich." From the way his friend talked, Harry deduded that the Edgecombes were in the same financial bracket as the Weasleys.

"It could be Malfoy." Harry knew the Slytherin had the gold and the motive.

"Or Voldemort putting pressure on her family, which in turn puts pressure on her." Hermione added, as often looking for the worst case.

"Let's inform the Headmaster. If it's Voldemort, he'll find out. If it's Malfoy, it won't hurt," Ron declared.

Harry winced a bit. His friend noticed. "I take it that you didn't ask for permission to curse our fellow students?"

The Boy-Who-Lived shook his head, together with his retainer.

Ron chuckled. "Well, knowing him, he'll probably give you a detention, and award Hermione some points for creative spellwork and good thinking."

Hermione smiled. Harry glared at her. "You expected that from the start!"

His girlfriend didn't show any regret. "Of course I did! It's one of the perks of being your retainer - you're responsible for anything I do to protect you."

"That's because I am supposed to discipline you if needed." Harry frowned at his friend.

"Technically you gave me permission to cast the curse. It would be quite hypocritical if you decided to punish me now." Hermione kept her tone light, but Harry knew the topic wasn't something either of them was comfortable with. Some fantasies of his after seeing a few of Sirius's books from his teenage years notwithstanding.

So he sighed theatrically: "Outplayed by my own retainer. Some Patron I am!"

Giggling, Hermione slid into his lap. "The best!"

Well, maybe not the worst, Harry thought. He tried his best, at least,

*****​

"And here are your rooms," Sirius Black opened the two doors with a flick of his wand and a flourish of his hand. The two rooms were connected, of course, and he didn't think his two latest house guests would be sleeping in separate beds, but technically, each had their own room. He had been raised to be a proper host, after all.

"Thank you, Sirius," Fleur smiled at him. "Our apartments were lacking wards strong enough to be safe."

Bill Weasley nodded, a bit stiffly. Sirius knew the proud young curse-breaker didn't like moving to Grimmauld Place 12. But the redheaded wizard was aware that he and his girlfriend, maybe soon fiancée, were in danger, and that their flats, like so many others, were not safe enough these days. And the alternative to accepting Sirius's gracious offer was to either move to France, or to the Burrow. And what young couple would want to move in with either of their parents? At their age, Sirius would have died rather than moving back to his parents. Well, given that they had thrown him out before he graduated, he would have died for moving back with them. Maybe. For all his mother's madness, Black blood was usually thicker than water.

Sirius forced the increasingly morbid thoughts away and grinned lecherously at the two. "Now, the rooms are charmed for privacy, so you don't need to restrain yourself."

Fleur simply nodded, smiling. "I expected that."

Bill coughed, but didn't show any other reaction, to Sirius's disappointment.

"Also, you can call on Kreacher, but I'm not responsible for anything he says if you do so. He's got the foulest attitude of any house elf I've ever seen. Hermione claims it's a result of his harsh treatment by my family, or the residual effect of the dark magic done in the house in the past, and not his fault, but even she looked ready to hex the bugger more than once, even if she won't admit it." Sirius warned them. They didn't look impressed. Well, they'd learn. A few new choice curse words, at least.

Valérie appeared at the end of the hallway, and walked towards them. Sirius's friend and lover was wearing a black silk robe, slit several times from the hem all the way to the plunging neckline, effectively turning it into a bunch of silk strips held together by spells. He smiled widely and appreciatively at the sight, and was about to wrap an arm around her as soon as she was close enough when he noticed her and Fleur staring at each other, as if they were sizing each other up. Not as if - they were doing exactly that.

He didn't notice that he and Bill had taken a step back until after the fact. Seeing the two veela circling each other was too distracting - and exciting. It was a dominance play, he realized, a dim memory of one of Hagrid's lessons briefly going through his mind. Like cats meeting for the first time. He expected them to sprout feathers and wings and laying into each other any second as the staring contest continued, with neither wizard nor veela present saying a single word.

Then Valérie moved to him, pressing herself into his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and sliding her thigh up his while he moved his arm around her waist. The two veela still hadn't broken eye contact, and the animagus thought he saw some yellow spots appear in their eyes.

Fleur cocked her head, then slipped her arm into Bill's. Another moment passed, then the younger veela nodded, followed by Valérie, and then Fleur led Bill into her room.

Once the door had closed behind them, Sirius took a deep, shivering breath - Valérie was still all but hanging on him - and looked at his girlfriend. The veela was smiling, apparently satisfied with the outcome of the encounter, then licked her lips before pulling his head towards her for a kiss.

They didn't make it to Sirius's or her room, and he wasn't sure he managed to cast a privacy spell in time, but Sirius didn't care.

*****​

The Dark Lord Voldemort studied the stain on the floor that had been a muggle a minute before, then back at the drooling, bleeding wizard clutching a wand to his chest on the other side of the room. "Your wands do need some more work, I think," he commented in a dry voice.

"Indeed," Steinberg, standing next to him while an enchanted quill wrote down notes on a floating piece of parchment agreed. "Though I am getting closer. This model lasted for several days of intense use before the wielder lost control. Carefully managed, it could be used with expendable forces to great effect."

Voldemort was forced to agree - the test subject, as Steinberg had called him, was a rather weak wizard, with no talent for the Dark Arts, and yet, with this wand, he had managed great things before it had turned him into a mindless husk. Maybe soulless, even - he'd have to get that tested by offering the body to the dementors. "It would be bad for morale though, if my forces started to fall victims to their own wands." He could always pass off the test subjects as having been punished for a grave failure - they were chosen from the kind of wizards his followers would easily believe that of - but even his most gullible men would object to be turned into sacrificial weapons.

"Without actual field testing I will be needing more test subjects and test materials," Steinberg finished his note-taking.

"I'll send another volunteer to you, and have more muggles delivered." Voldemort turned to leave.

"I'd prefer two volunteers, to compare their reactions," Steinberg sounded hopeful and eager. The man was maybe a bit too overenthusiastic, but he was certainly talented.

The Dark Lord nodded. "Two then."

When he entered his chamber, Bellatrix was waiting for him, lounging on his bed. "Master!" The dark witch exclaimed, jumping up and falling to her knees.

"Bella." He bade her rise with a gesture. The slender witch complied, her black robes moving around her body, drawing attention to her restored youth and beauty. She didn't move toward him, she knew better than that, but she did her best to entice him to come to her - a game both of them had liked ever since their reunion.

"I've spoken with my sister," she said. No need to ask which sister - as far as Bella was concerned, she had only one sister. The other one simply hadn't been polite enough to accept that she was dead, yet. "Her son has told her that Potter has started to train more students in 'self-defence'. He is apparently trying to find out more."

The Dark Lord scoffed at the thought. Young Malfoy was an idiot. A sometimes useful, eager idiot, but an idiot nonetheless. If not for the gold he would soon control, Voldemort would ignore the remaining Malfoy family. As things were, he put pressure on the mother but hadn't spoken to the son yet. "He might be a useful distraction, nothing more."

Bella nodded, not hiding her scorn for her own nephew. Voldemort had to remind himself not to underestimate anyone. That had led to his downfall once already.

"Arrange for someone who takes part in those meetings to donate a memory, and obliviate them afterwards." That would allow him to see for himself what the one with the power to defeat him was doing.

"At once Master!" Bella turned to leave, but he stopped her with a raised hand.

"There is no rush." He glanced at his bed, then back at her.

The dark witch smiled. With a gesture she caused her robe to fall down to the floor and slowly started to walk over to the bed.


Chapter 28: Raids

 

[turbinicarpus]

Too many accursed pureblood witches

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am far from being a qualified

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the girl was all but pushing into Harry covered

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This sentence seems to have extra words in it. What is it supposed to say?

The young muggleborn witch at once stopped vanishing and repairing piecemeal, and finished the room with two spells while heading over to her boyfriend. "My Patron." She bowed slightly.

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Interesting. How much is Hermione sandbagging throughout the story? Does she use that sort of room-scale casting in lessons with Sirius?

"The room's been restored reset to the state it was in when we arrived."

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"Parkinson didn't stare at Harry, but she was impressed by your last two repair and vanishing spells, Hermione," Luna finished her soft_drink. "I think thats quite suspicious."

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And now, Pansy knows... Interesting.

smell the firewhisky on his brother's breath

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but he was one of the few wizards Albus wasn't certain he could beat in a fair fight

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He is? That seems to be a pretty weighty deviation from canon, since it radically shifts the balance of power. Is it a good idea?

He bade her raise with a gesture.

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He is apparently preparing to find out more

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It's dialogue, so it can be poorly phrased and ambiguous, but I suggest replacing "preparing" with "trying".

 

[turbinicarpus]

On an unrelated note, I've been in an anti-'shippy mood lately. Any chance that the whole Harmony thing does, in fact, turn out to be a Life Debt + Patron Oath messing with both parties? Magic can't create true love, supposedly, but there's precedent for a party being kept "in love" with continuous administration of Amortentia, only to immediately fall out of love once it was no longer administered.

And no, I wouldn't consider that a bad end.

 

[macdjord]

Actually, IIRC, Amortentia is permanent. It's other, less powerful love potions that require constant application.

 

[turbinicarpus]

Actually, IIRC, Amortentia is permanent. It's other, less powerful love potions that require constant application.

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No, Merope Gaunt used Amortentia to snare (to make an understatement) Thomas Riddle Sr. and then, when she stopped dosing him and came clean, he immediately left her.

 

[Starfox5]

This sentence seems to have extra words in it. What is it supposed to say?

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Rewrote it to make it clearer.

Interesting. How much is Hermione sandbagging throughout the story? Does she use that sort of room-scale casting in lessons with Sirius?

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She's usually holding a bit back, but not that much - she displayed her skills during the Triwizard Tournament quite openly. She wasn't sandbagging here as much as stalling. The last spells just finished the task.

And now, Pansy knows... Interesting.

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It depends on what Pansy noticed, and thought of Hermione before.

He is? That seems to be a pretty weighty deviation from canon, since it radically shifts the balance of power. Is it a good idea?

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This is Albus's opinion, which is not exactly unbiased. Albus knows he is more powerful than Aberforth, but doesn't assume that Aberforth is that much weaker to make victory a certainity. Especially since he knows Albus so well - better than anyone else. But since Aberforth himself doesn't think he's powerful enough to provide backup to his friends by himself, it's rather clear that he's not in the same weight class as Voldemort or Albus.

Though speaking of canon, I don't see how anyone could expect the man who went into a three-way duel with Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore, and didn't get defeated right away, but survived until the end, as anything but damn powerful.

It's dialogue, so it can be poorly phrased and ambiguous, but I suggest replacing "preparing" with "trying".

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Thanks for the typos, corrected them.

On an unrelated note, I've been in an anti-'shippy mood lately. Any chance that the whole Harmony thing does, in fact, turn out to be a Life Debt + Patron Oath messing with both parties? Magic can't create true love, supposedly, but there's precedent for a party being kept "in love" with continuous administration of Amortentia, only to immediately fall out of love once it was no longer administered.

And no, I wouldn't consider that a bad end.

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Spoiler

Zilch. Nil. Zero. If I have the choice between a story with romantic relationships, and one without, I'll always pick the one with romance in it. I consider love one of the most important and fundamental motivations of humans, and a story where it doesn't play a role (apart from a few exceptions) seems lacking in realism. Especially if it involves teenagers. And I would consider your ending a very bad ending.

 

[turbinicarpus]

Though speaking of canon, I don't see how anyone could expect the man who went into a three-way duel with Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore, and didn't get defeated right away, but survived until the end, as anything but damn powerful.

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I've probably forgotten something, but when did this happen?

Spoiler: Re: Shipping

Zilch. Nil. Zero. If I have the choice between a story with romantic relationships, and one without, I'll always pick the one with romance in it. I consider love one of the most important and fundamental motivations of humans, and a story where it doesn't play a role (apart from a few exceptions) seems lacking in realism. Especially if it involves teenagers. And I would consider your ending a very bad ending.

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It's not an objection to romance as such: "'shipping" is something more specific. It's more that, why does their romance have to be their ultimate destination? Teenage relationships are important --- to the teenagers --- but in the grand scheme of things? They tend to be pretty ephemeral, and I'd rather they get a chance to be grown-ups first. Viktor and Nymphadora did.

As for whether it's a happy ending, well, because of the whole Life Debt + Patron Oath, their relationship feels inherently tainted to me. If both ended up with different people after that, I would respect that ending more.

 

[Starfox5]

I've probably forgotten something, but when did this happen?

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From the wiki:

When Gellert Grindelwald came to Godric's Hollow, he and Albus instantly struck up a friendship, together dreaming of finding the Deathly Hallows and leading a revolution that would make Muggles subservient to wizards. When Aberforth pointed out that Albus could not be the heroic leader of the revolution with Ariana in tow, Grindelwald became furious and used the Cruciatus Curse on Aberforth. Albus tried to protect his brother and a three-way duel broke out. While the three battled, Ariana tried to help her brother, but a stray curse from one of them hit Ariana, killing her.

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Spoiler: Re: Shipping

It's not an objection to romance as such: "'shipping" is something more specific. It's more that, why does their romance have to be their ultimate destination? Teenage relationships are important --- to the teenagers --- but in the grand scheme of things? They tend to be pretty ephemeral, and I'd rather they get a chance to be grown-ups first. Viktor and Nymphadora did.

As for whether it's a happy ending, well, because of the whole Life Debt + Patron Oath, their relationship feels inherently tainted to me. If both ended up with different people after that, I would respect that ending more.

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Spoiler

Overcoming their own fear that their love is tainted by the Patron Oath and Life Debt, overcoming the barriers to their relationship by society, law and custom, challenging and changing the world if that is what it takes to be happy together, is the point of the story. Both had to grow up more quickly than Nymphadora and Viktor. While Viktor was still a student and Quidditch star, those two were Patron and Retainer, trying to rebuild a destroyed family. Hermione and Harry realizing that their love was not caused by the Life Debt and Oath was a major milestone in the story.

Teenage romances are generally not important in the grand scheme of things. But neither are teenagers, or any individual, actually. But stories tend to focus on those individuals who are important - for the story at least. Or on those romances who are important. And this story is about Harry and Hermione coming together against all odds.

It would feel incredibly cheap and wrong to me to go "oh, yeah... turns out, all of that was for nothing. You don't actually love each other romantically. You don't need to fight for each other. Enjoy your totally accepted life as best friends. Hermione can marry that half-blood she will now fall realistically in love with, removing even the last potential for conflict with society." Removing their love, reducing it to a platonic friendship, would pretty much destroy the story in a "slap in the face" twist because they would have gone through all those trials and challenges just to realize that they actually were fooling themselves all along. That would be on the same level as "Oh, you beat Voldemort. Good job. But it turns out, his new body was defective. He'd have died anyway in a few weeks."

I do not do that kind of "twists".

 

[Prince Charon]

Spoiler

It would feel incredibly cheap and wrong to me to go "oh, yeah... turns out, all of that was for nothing. You don't actually love each other romantically. You don't need to fight for each other. Enjoy your totally accepted life as best friends. Hermione can marry that half-blood she will now fall realistically in love with, removing even the last potential for conflict with society." Removing their love, reducing it to a platonic friendship, would pretty much destroy the story in a "slap in the face" twist because they would have gone through all those trials and challenges just to realize that they actually were fooling themselves all along. That would be on the same level as "Oh, you beat Voldemort. Good job. But it turns out, his new body was defective. He'd have died anyway in a few weeks."

I do not do that kind of "twists".

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Spoiler

I am very pleased by that.