Chapter 13 - W13

"We've heard so much about you," Mrs. Granger gushed.

Looking at Hermione, I could see a guilty look on her face. Her parents wouldn't be greeting me with such enthusiasm if they'd known the whole story. Most parents tended to give the side eye to a kid who was known to beat up other children; I'd spent the last school year murdering adults, most of whom were publicly known.

"It's nice to meet you," I said solemnly.

The Grangers had picked us up in a rented nine seat minibus. I'd slipped into the third row along with Hermione, and her parents were sitting in the front, with Lupin in the middle set of seats.

Mrs. Granger was twisted around in her seat. She stared curiously at Lupin. "And this is your...?"

"Bodyguard," I said. "And yours. There's been troubles, and they wanted to keep us safe."

Her face tightened. "Mr. Dumbledore told us a little about that. It's part of the reason we're taking the whole summer."

She never should have let him in the car without knowing exactly who he was. Even Hermione seeming to recognize me wasn't enough, not in a world where anyone could be polyjuiced as anyone else. We'd have to work with them on operational security.

"I've got a partner in my business," Mr. Granger said. "Other than my wife. Summers tend to be slower for us anyway, since so many people are on holiday."

Both the Grangers were dentists, apparently. Although they were making light of the financial hit they would take, I could see from the look on Hermione's face that she knew as well as I did that it would be a strain.

Of course, they weren't having to feed her for most of the year, so it wasn't as bad as it might have seemed at first, and the Wizarding World was taking care of her health care. Was health care as expensive in muggle Britain as in America? I wasn't sure.

"So what are we planning?" I asked.

"We'll be traveling all over the country," Mr. Granger said.

"We'll be going to the French version of Diagon Alley," Hermione said excitedly. "Can you imagine all the books?"

"Won't they be in French?" I asked.

"I speak French," she said, surprised. "Don't you?"

"I'm an American," I said irritably. "We barely speak English, much less other languages."

There was a strange sense of triumph on her face as she stared at me. Was that a hint of a smirk? I couldn't help but wonder uncharitably what she would think if she knew that I could speak snake?

I still wasn't very good at it, even after several months of practice, but at least I could make myself understood, if barely.

"Well, I'm sure that they will have a lot of joke products that aren't sold at home," Hermione said.

"You like joke products."

"I've got some friends who do," I said. "And if you're clever you can repurpose things in useful ways."

"That won't be until the end of our trip," Mrs. Granger said. "We went to Paris last year, and Mr. Lupin says it's best if we avoid the obvious places."

Neither of Hermione's parents showed any indication that they knew what I'd meant, which told me that Hermione definitely hadn't told them anything important about me. It was confusing; the fact that they were taking a months long vacation indicated that they knew about the danger they were in, but apparently Hermione hadn't given them any context.

Was she afraid they'd pull her out of school?

That would actually put her in more danger, unless they decided to relocate countries. I wasn't sure their medical licenses would transfer, either.

"Let's go, then," Lupin said. He was watching all around with a wary look on his face. Just because we were in France didn't mean that we were entirely safe.

If I'd been Voldemort, I'd have hired a muggle private Investigator. Of course, it wouldn't be as easy now to track us as it would have been in my time. In my time, it would have been a matter of a little work on the Internet by someone who knew what they were doing to track the Granger's credit card receipts, their hotels, and everything else.

With no Internet, people tracking us would have to work a little harder.

"You didn't tell anyone where you were planning to go," I asked Mr. Granger.

He looked down at me, startled, then shook his head. "My partner was upset that I wasn't leaving forwarding information, but Mr. Dumbledore was insistent. He seemed to think that wizards could easily control our friends and family into telling them where we'd gone."

"I told several people that we were going to Poland," Mrs. Granger said. "I always wanted to go to Poland."

"We aren't going to Poland," Lupin said shortly. ""They've got a werewolf infestation there and it's not particularly safe."

Also, the Death Eaters were likely going to Poland. If Voldemort bothered sending people after us instead of just waiting until the summer was over, then he'd waste manpower.

"Say, Hermione," I said casually. "Do you still have those things that I left for you?"

I'd stolen several brooms, wands and other items from the Death Eaters before I'd made sure they were dead. I'd shrunk them, and hidden them on Hermione, who hadn't been forced to go before Moody and his all seeing eye. He'd only been interested in interrogating me.

She nodded. "They went back to normal after I got home to my parents."

"And you brought them?"

"The customs agent looked at me funny," she said. Leaning over, she murmured, "There were bloodstains on one of the handles."

"It was getting dark," I said defensively. I'd missed an entire head; I could hardly be blamed for missing a few blood splatters.

"I wouldn't approve," she murmured again, "But if we'd had these in the first place, we might have simply been able to run. I've looked at the prices on new brooms, and they are frightfully expensive."

I'd looked too, a cheap broom cost at least two hundred galleons, which was worth about a thousand British pounds, or about two thousand dollars. Given inflation, by my time, it would have been worth over three thousand dollars, or about as much as a crappy used car.

Unfortunately, a cheap broom wouldn't be fast enough to help us escape anything. The top of the line models were worth a lot more; the people I'd asked had just shaken their heads. Apparently only the richest families could afford one.

In my mind, it was probably like owning a sports car; it was functionally faster, and it looked better, but at least part of what you were paying for was the status it gave you.

"It's not a good idea to buy used brooms either," Hermione said. "Because they often aren't safe."

"Like the brooms we had before Malfoy got us new ones?" I asked.

She nodded.

I could see Lupin stiffen. Apparently he knew enough about Malfoy to be wary. The Grangers didn't react at all.

I'd been like Hermione at her age; even at fifteen I hadn't told my father about my career as a super villain. I'd put him in danger by doing that, though, even if it would have been more difficult.

Mr. Granger made a terrible joke, and Hermione giggled. Her mother was watching both of us and smiling.

I felt a sudden sense of melancholy.

Hermione lit up when she was talking to her parents, and they were just as joyful when they talked to her. It was utterly innocent and it was as though all the worries that had slowly been accumulating over the course of the last year just vanished.

I'd had that once, when Mom was still alive. I could remember laughing and being joyful. I'd lived in the moment then; I hadn't worried about anything because I'd had an absolute certainty that my parents would be there for me always, and they would always love me.

Mom's death had begun the end of my innocence, and Emma had hastened its demise. Lung and Coil and the Slaughterhouse had killed it off forever.

I'd spent so long trying to save the world, all the worlds that nothing else had mattered. Time spent with my own father would have meant less time training, or looking for the Slaughterhouse Nine. I hadn't been able to stand the thought that my slacking off would mean the deaths of everyone I had ever loved, and even people that I'd never known.

Over the past year I'd been completely focused on survival, or on learning more magic so I could survive.

The fact that it was likely that I would never see my father again wasn't something I'd let myself think about. Even if we hadn't been close in years, I'd always thought there would come a time when we could become a family again.

Now, even if I somehow found a spell that would let me jump universes, and another one that would let me find the one universe in a practical infinity where my father was located, I no longer looked anything at all like his daughter. Would he even recognize me?

Would he still be alive in the seven to ten years that it would take me to learn that much magic?

Even if I found the universe he was in, an entire planet was difficult to find someone. It was obvious that Wizards didn't have any spells that easily tracked people, or the Death Eaters would have been rounded up shortly after the first one had been caught.

It might be possible to buy a Wizarding owl and write him a letter, though, assuming I could find the right dimension.

What were the limits on those owls?

Did they have to fly directly to their targets? If so, a letter to Australia might take a very long time. Or did they take shortcuts along the route; if they did, was it possible that one could find my father even from the dimension that I was in?

It wasn't something I could even try now; the chance of my owl being intercepted was far too high, and it might not even be the Death Eaters who did it. I couldn't trust anyone with knowledge of my origins; even someone as seemingly loyal as Hermione could have her mind easily read, or been mind controlled into revealing what she knew.

She was laughing still, and it was bittersweet watching her with her family.

Lupin was watching me, and I saw a strange sort of understanding on his face. I quickly pushed my emotions into my bugs, and everything immediately felt better.

Was that part of the reason that I'd been so emotionally flat all year? In my old life I'd actually felt my own emotions, even if I'd been able to push my reactions into them. Was I pushing my pain and anger, depression and loneliness into my bugs as a way of staying focused?

What kind of long term effects would that kind of emotional numbing have on my psyche?

Was I even feeling my own emotions at all? While I still had my own memories, the hardware my mind was running on was Millie Scrivener's brain. I'd assumed that some of my personality changes were due to having an eleven year old brain, but what if it was more than that?

Anti-social personality disorder often had hereditary causes. What did I really know about the Scriveners? I hadn't really given much of a thought to them since I'd woken up in that alley. Was the brain I was using influencing me, or was it the fact that I was becoming addicted to pushing my emotions into my bugs.

Were the bugs at Hogwarts the most depressed bugs in the world and I just didn't know it?

Was I even me any more?

When Lupin turned back to say something to Mrs. Granger, I deliberately allowed my emotions to seep back into my bones.

It was a stark contrast.

Moments before my mind had felt clear and sharp. Now everything felt dull and gray. Now, melancholy filled me, and I forced my features to remain impassive.

"What part of America did you come from dear?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"It was a place near Boston,' I said. "You wouldn't have heard of it."

"I've heard nice things about America," she said.

"Most of America is great," I said. "But there are places that are terrible. I guess that's true everywhere. I spent some time in Chicago before I came here."

"I'm sorry to hear about your parents, dear," she said.

"I'm sure they'd be happy to know that I'm all right," I said. "And safe, at least for the moment."

My real dad would have felt that way, and I'm sure the Scriveners would have too, at least until they realized that I was really a kind of eldritch abomination wearing their daughters skin.

I'd been lucky that hadn't shown up as my boggart; my face melting away to show my real face underneath. That might have given people a few too many clues.

Talking about the gangs where I'd grown up with around Hermione's parents might make them cautious around me, yet it wasn't fair to keep them in the dark either.

"I'm glad Hermione had good parents," I said to Mrs. Granger. "I think that makes things easier."

"We were afraid that she wouldn't make any friends,' her father admitted. "So we're very glad that you befriended her. She tells us that she'd made several friends because of you."

Hermione flushed.

"She'd have made friends eventually," I said. "Once she realized that she didn't always have to be the smartest person in the room. That was all that was holding her back, really."

"Taylor and I are neck in neck for top of our classes," Hermione said proudly.

"But Hermione no longer has to let everybody know that,m and that's made all the difference," I said, giving her a glance.

It had taken her a long time to stop her habit of bragging about her intellectual abilities; I'd called her on it every time I'd heard it, and there were still times when she backslid.

Draco's bragging had lessened as well, but not as quickly. Partially that was because I had less contact with him, and partially because he was less motivated that Hermione. Still, he'd done a lot on the basis of a few conversations I'd had with him, and I expected that he'd continue to get better.

I'd had Dumbledore arrange for him to have his trunk sent back to him with an anonymous letter of thanks. The last thing he needed was written proof that he'd sided with me against the Death Eaters.

It was possible that he'd complain to his father, but his father was undoubtedly smart enough not to let his compatriots know what had happened. Hopefully Draco had been smart enough not to say anything.

Most likely his father would have instructed him on the value of keeping quiet.

I listened to Hermione chattering away like a monkey about her school year. I noticed that she avoided any subject that involved danger. She didn't mention that I'd killed a boy in a duel, or the deaths of the Death Eaters over the holidays.

How had the Ministry explained the attack on the train? What had Hermione told them?

When things finally got quiet after forty five minutes, I finally asked.

"Where are we going then?"

"La Londe Les Maures," Mr. Granger said. "It's a seaside resort in southeastern France on the French Riviera. Have you ever been scuba diving?"

"No," I admitted.

"Well, there's snorkeling, and windsurfing, beaches, and there's a tropical bird garden. We'll be visiting some vineyards."

"Taylor won't be drinking," Lupin said. "I have a feeling none of us would be comfortable with that."

"She's an American," Hermione rushed to say. "And they are a little more prudish about alcohol."

Was Lupin worried that I might stab someone if I was drunk?

Little did he know that my aim was terrible when I was drunk; it was one of the reasons that I'd rarely ever bothered to drink when I was in my last body. The fact that I was underage hadn't been a factor at all.

Still, I stuck my tongue out at him. He grinned at me, and the smile made him look a little less sickly for a moment.

Maybe this could actually work.

After a moment of consideration, I said, "But I don't have a bathing suit!"

"We'll get them when we get there," Mr. Granger said. "She's grown enough in the past year that I doubt that her old bathing suit would fit her anyway."

I was smaller than Hermione, and I had a feeling that I'd never be tall. I hadn't seen either of Millie Scrivener's parents standing up, but neither one of them had seen particularly tall.

I wondered for a moment how Lupin was paying for all of this. For all I knew there was a bounty on the heads of the Death Eaters I'd killed, or maybe Dumbledore was paying for this out of his own pocket.

In any case, I had some ideas about how Lupin could use magic to make money in the muggle world, and I'd broach them with him when we were alone.

My only worry now was how I was going to hide a wand on the beach. Could you shrink a wand?

Not mine, of course, but one of the extra ones I'd stolen?

Still, being able to relax on the sand for once without worrying that the world was going to end... that sounded nice.1569ShayneTJul 29, 2019View discussionThreadmarks BoxView contentShayneTAug 4, 2019#15,951Putting on my old identity was like slipping into a coat that no longer quite fit. My first year at Hogwarts had required that I always be on my guard, and that I keep a distance between myself and everyone else.

I'd been creating an image of myself as someone dangerous and competent; I was that, but there was more to me than that.

At first I'd been alert for attacks that never came, but as the summer had progressed I found myself relaxing a bit. I'd never completely relaxed; the possibility that they'd wait until the middle of the summer to attack had occurred to me more than once.

Yet it never happened.

It had been amazing just to lie on the beach and simply be in the moment, even if I'd been amusing myself by having the crabs under the water stage mock battles with each other out of the sight of everyone.

These were experiences I wouldn't have had even if I'd stayed in my own world. There I'd have been working to repair the damage Scion had done to the world, assuming that people hadn't just abandoned it altogether. Even if Scion had never attacked, I'd have been busy working for the Protectorate.

Even if they'd let me go to college, the summers would have been filled with work. I never would have had months of uninterrupted rest and relaxation.

If it wasn't for the fact that I was likely never going to see anyone I cared about from my old life ever again, I'd have thought that this was a blessing. It was the first time in years that I'd gotten to relax and just be a kid.

I'd spent my days with the Grangers, and my nights practicing fighting with Lupin. He was enormously better than the students I'd fought, and I'd lost more times than I'd won. I hadn't cheated, because there, in the silence, I was free to lose. I didn't have a reputation to maintain, and failure wouldn't result in me being in more danger.

I could finally relax a little, and actually be myself.

I'd been free to laugh, and play, and be the child that I hadn't had a chance to be even the first time I'd been through this. It should have been boring; most teenagers found spending time with children to be tiresome. But Hermione wasn't most children, and the Rangers were actually interesting people.

They'd taken us to museums that were actually interesting, and to see things that I'd never seen before.

It had been a shock to realize that beaches in France were topless, but it hadn't seemed to bother Hermione, so I assumed that she'd experienced it before. It wasn't mandatory, though, which I was happy about.

Hermione had even stopped having nightmares. Apparently the Death Eater attack had affected her more than I'd thought, because I'd heard her moaning in her sleep for the first couple of weeks. The nightmares had become less frequent with time, and within a month they were gone.

"At least we weren't attacked on the train platform," I muttered to Hermione.

She was sitting in a compartment in the middle of the train, along with Neville and Millie and Harry. I hadn't seen Tracey.

"The Ministry has tightened up security this year," Hermione said. "I'm not surprised at all."

The aurors in the first and last cars, with two more riding on top of the train certainly seemed alert. I wondered if they'd taken pepper up potions or some other kind of stimulant.

"The Death Eaters have been quiet all summer," I said. "Probably regrouping and reevaluating their plans."

It's what I would have done if I'd been Voldemort. The kind of losses he'd already taken weren't sustainable, not given the limited population of Wizards. I'd have probably started using imperiused patsies and maybe hired foreign mercenaries.

My guess was that he'd spent the summer cleaning house. I'd have been imperiusing as many people as I could to find out who the traitor was; someone like him wouldn't have been able to believe that an eleven year old child had been able to slaughter so many Death Eaters, so his first and natural assumption would have been that someone had helped me.

He'd assume that traitors had given away the information about the attack on the train, and that someone had helped me slaughter his men. Given that Moody's men seemed more interested in capture than killing, that would suggest that it was either a third party, or someone within his own ranks who was getting rid of competition.

If that was the case, it might mean that someone was preparing for a coupe within the Death Eaters, and something like that would be terrifying for Voldemort.

The name he'd chosen for himself revealed his own fear. Flight from Death?

Why call yourself something that meant you were running. Why not simply call yourself Death?

Thanatos was a classic, although that could also mean a desire for death.

The truth was, I wasn't good at coming up with names, but sooner or later people would have named me something. Of course, if you were terrifying enough, even Bob could become a name to be feared.

"Are you excited about the school year?" Hermione asked.

"Personally, I think Lupin could have taught me everything I needed to know," I said. "But I can't leave you and Harry by yourselves."

I wouldn't saddle Lupin with the task of raising me either. I'd come to respect him over the summer, even on the days before the full moon when he became irritable and snappish.

The fact that he'd had to leave once a month hadn't escaped the Grangers, but they hadn't asked questions.

I'd given him a few tips about raising funds in the muggle world with magic. He'd told me that they were in a gray area, legally speaking, but he'd looked thoughtful.

It would be easy enough for him to buy salvaged cars and repair them magically. He'd never be able to sell them as new, now without magically changing memories and documentation. He assured me that actually would be illegal. Even as salvage could easily sell them for ten times the price he bought them for, possibly as much as fifteen hundred pounds a transaction.

Finding the cars would be harder in this pre-Internet world, but I'd suggested that he find a Squib car dealer or auto mechanic. If he couldn't find one, then convince one to be his front man, to do all the leg work and take half the profits.

At five hundred galleons each, he might be able to make up for some of the income that the Ministry and Wizarding society had cheated him out of.

I'd had some other ideas, but Lupin had assured me that most of them would be highly illegal and end up sending him to Azkaban.

The door to the compartment slid open.

Pansy looked in.

"Taylor!" she said, her voice artificially sweet. "I'm surprised to see that you came back this year!"

We'd heard through the grapevine that people had withdrawn their children from school in the aftermath of the train incident. I could understand the impulse, but unless they were going to leave the country, it was even less safe in their homes.

"I'm surprised that you passed last year," I said mildly. "Weren't you worried about not passing?"

She flushed.

"At least I'm not a werewolf," she said.

"What?" I stared at her.

"You and Potter and Granger disappeared during the werewolf attack," she says. "Everybody is just horrified about how the boy-who-lived was infected."

From the look on Neville's face, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or insulted that people weren't talking about him too.

Harry scowled. "That's a lie! It wasn't werewolves at all! It was the Death Eaters and Voldemort!"

Pansy shook her head.

"Poor, deluded little boy. You just don't want to admit the horrible truth. It was in the papers over the summer, so everybody knows about it. That's probably why so many kids aren't coming back to school They don't want to be in class with three werewolves."

"Say Pansy," I asked. "Is werewolfism contagious when you are in human form?"

"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.

"Well, if I were to bite you right here, and right now, would you become a werewolf, or maybe something halfway, like a were-poodle?"

Harry grinned. "She looks like the kind who'd become a poodle. Wanna try?"

Pansy sniffed. "You can't make fun of me... werewolves aren't real people."

"Whoever said I was a real person in the first place?" I asked. "Do you think that the boggarts are all out of the castle? Do you think some of them might have slipped onto the train?"

I smiled at her, channeling my best Jack Slash grin. I cocked my head, and began walking toward her with a jerky motion.

Her face paled and she staggered back, falling onto her rear. She stumbled to her feat and slammed the door shut, and we heard the sounds of footsteps racing off into the distance.

No one else came to disturb us, but as I closed my eyes and listened in to the conversations in the other part of the train, it amazed me to find that the students had bought into the Ministry line that it had been werewolves who had attacked the Hogwarts Express.

They really did believe that I and my little group were werewolves, and even Harry's House was uncertain about dealing with him.

The door opened again, and Ron Weasley slipped inside.

"You'd tell me you were a werewolf, wouldn't you mate?" he asked Harry. "When my brothers told me, I thought they were lying like usual, but I heard it from Romilda Vane and a couple of Hufflepuffs."

"It's a lie," Harry said tiredly.

"Then why didn't they let you have any visitors over the summer?" Ron asked. "I tried to send you a letter, but they were all returned."

"The Death Eaters were trying to kill me," Harry said. "So the Ministry was sending all my mail back just in case something cursed got through. And it was Death Eaters that attacked the train, not werewolves."

I wondered if anyone had tried to send me any packages over the summer. If they had, it had probably been a bomb.

I'd have to find out whatever spell kept us from getting our mail and learn it myself. If I could use that and if I could find some way to evade the Trace, then I'd be able to slip into the muggle world entirely, and I'd be able to do whatever I wanted.

Lupin had taught me the disillusionment spell over the summer. He'd been reluctant, but when I'd explained to him that it might save lives, he'd finally agreed.

I think he'd caught the underlying meaning; I might not have to kill so many people if I had other options for escape.

That was the law in the Muggle world, after all. Self-Defense only applied if you had no way to escape. If you did, it was your duty to try.

Listening in to the children in the other cars for the next few hours, I realized that there was an element of unease to many of their conversations. They spoke more quietly this year, and it was only with their closest friends that they spoke about overheard conversations between their parents.

Almost everyone had parents who'd discussed pulling them out of school. Many of them had parents who'd talked about leaving the country. That was less true of the Slytherins, of course, but even among them there were some. They were quieter about it.

I'd taken to checking my foe glass all summer; I'd checked it shortly before packing today. It had looked like Avery and several figures I hadn't recognized were closer than they had been all summer. They weren't so close as for me to be terribly worried.

It was dark by the time we reached our stop.

A prefect stopped by our compartment.

"You don't go with the first years," he said. "You go to the left, where there are carriages."

I nodded.

We disembarked.

I still felt uncomfortable letting the House Elves manage my luggage; part of me was afraid that people would interfere with it before the House Elves got to it. I'd just have to go over everything thoroughly when I got to my rooms.

"Are those thestrals?" Hermione asked, blinking.

I'd mucked their stalls out enough to know more about them that I wanted to.

"There's nothing there," Harry said. "Are they pulled my magic?"

"Thestrels," Hermione said. "Only people who have seen death can see them."

For some reason everyone turned and looked at me.

"How can you not see them?" I asked. "You were all at duelling club last year."

"He didn't die until later," Hermione said. "And none of us saw that."

"What about you?" I asked Harry.

"With the Acromantulas?" Harry asked. "It was dark. I didn't see anything except a guy with his jaw blown off."

"So you've seriously been hanging around me for months, and you've never seen anybody die."

"It seems incredible, but no," Hermione said. "Some blood on a broomstick doesn't count when it comes to thestrels."

As we approached, I stepped up beside one of the thestrels. I patted its side.

"They know ye," Hagrid said, walking up.

"Aren't you watching the first years?" I asked.

He shook his head. "The Aurors have taken over. Wanna make sure the sprogs get to where they're going. New security this year."

I nodded.

"You be careful this year, Taylor," he said. "I've heard that it isn't just the Death Eaters that have it out for ye. There's people who'd love to see ye in Azkaban."

Not all of them were Death Eaters either. Some of them were sympathizers, and others were just uncomfortable with the way I interfered with the status quo. Unfortunately, some of them had the power to make problems for me.

"Thanks, Hagrid," I said.

I patted the Thestrel on the side.

"I'd be happy to help you with these," I said. "As long as it isn't poop duty."

"There won't be any of that this year," Hagrid said. "The Ministry is serious about security, and there's a curfew after dark. No student is to be out on the grounds."

I nodded.

After what had happened last year, I'd had no intentions of being out where Death Eaters could take potshots at me. It had been easy enough for one to apparate outside whatever protections the school had and then walk onto the grounds.

"Let's get you in the castle, where it's safe," he said.

As we made our way up the trail, my bugs smelled disillusioned people all along the trail. I suspected that these were the aurors who were providing security, but I couldn't be sire, so I kept my wand in my hand until we reached the castle.

It was a relief to step inside the door; a single Killing Curse from a disillusioned imperiused patsy could have ended me before I'd had a chance to respond. The only reason they likely hadn't tried it was because of the aurors, and because they would have assumed I could see the attack in advance with my seer powers.

As I sat through the opening feast, everything felt unreal. The summer itself had already felt like a dream, and getting back into my role as the person who everyone feared didn't feel like something I was going to relish.

Partially it was because I hadn't been suppressing my emotions much over the summer. I'd been getting better over the school year, but it had been terribly slow.

I found myself tired as I went to my room; Tracey still hadn't shown up, so I could only assume that her parents had planned to home school her.

Mildred didn't know anything about it; they hadn't been in contact all summer, since her parents had decided to take her to Venice for vacation. I had the impression that this wasn't their normal way of doing things; they had been afraid and had friends in that area that people didn't know about.

Despite my exhaustion, I began going through my trunks methodically. The last thing I needed was some cursed item giving me an incurable and fatal condition. Cursed items could be some of the deadliest things around; I'd heard that there were curses that no wizard had the cure for.

So it was with some trepidation that I found a box in my trunk, one that I hadn't put there.

It was plain and nondescript, about ten inches on a side. It had been stuffed haphazardly into my chest, which was now filled with all kinds of clothes that Lupin had gotten for me over the summer. I levitated the box and put it on the floor.

"Get Snape," I said tersely.

Lupin wouldn't have left me a box without telling me; he was sensible enough to know that I'd never open one without knowing ho it was from. That meant that this was likely from someone who didn't mean me well.

I stared at the box. I had an uneasy feeling I knew what was inside; my bugs could smell rotting meat inside. The fact that it smelled tantalizing when filtered through their senses was vaguely disturbing.

Snape arrived shortly afterwards.

"This box shouldn't have been in my trunk," I said. "And I haven't learned cursebreaking yet."

He nodded grimly.

He spent the next ten minutes performing a series of spells and actions that I watched carefully. Was this what cursebreaking was, and if so, was he any good at it?

Eventually, he said, "I have detected no curses on the box, nor poison on its surface. I will lift the lid off now."

I pulled out my wand and cast a shield spell.

He levitated the lid of the box off the wand, and floated it to its side. A moment later he leaned forward; if there was hesitation he hid it well.

His face turned grim.

"I fear that I must summon the Headmaster," he said.

I leaned forward.

Beside me, I could hear Millicent begin to scream.

Tracey's head was in the box, staring up at us, an expression of agony and horror permanently imprinted on her face.1617ShayneTAug 4, 2019View discussionThreadmarks BonesawView contentShayneTAug 6, 2019#16,242The Death Eaters hadn't sent their kids to school this year.

When I'd noted that people had been missing from the train; it had seemed natural to me that some parents would hold their kids back, even Slytherin parents. The fact that it was a certain subset of Slytherin parents had escaped me, especially since Draco had come to school.

Was leaving Malfoy a gesture of trust toward me?

Or was Lucius Malfoy on his way out of the organization, and he hadn't been informed of what was going to happen until it was too late?

Apparently he'd passed along my idle threat of killing the kids and they'd taken it seriously.

I was sitting in Dumbledore's office. It was late; about one in the morning. The aurors had gone over my room with a fine toothed comb. There were some of them who had been looking for things to hang me with, but most of them had been angry and upset, which I thought was a good sign.

"What do you intend to do, Miss Hebert?" Dumbledore asked.

He was looking at me quietly. His eyes had lost their usual twinkle.

"That's not the question," I said. "The question is what you will do? They killed a child, and not just any child, but a half blood. They did it under your watch, and if this is allowed to continue, I have no doubt that this school will be closed for good."

Wizards tended to be callous about their children being injured, but death was another matter.

"I have been cautious in applying myself,' Dumbledore admitted. "The allure of power has been something that I have struggled with, and I fear that it would be all too easy for me to fall prey to it."

"The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing," I said. "Edmund Burke was right, you know. Every time you stay your hand, allow a Death Eater to live, you are responsible for every death they cause afterwards."

He looked much older than usual. His face seemed almost gaunt in the firelight.

"It is a slippery slope," he said. "Who am I to decide who lives and who dies?"

"Who else is there?" I asked. "Look at the world around you. The blood purists are winning. Every time they kill an auror, they replace him with one of their own. Every muggleborn they kill is a life that will not have a chance to contribute to society."

He looked down, and I shook my head.

"Tracey was more of an acquaintance than a friend. She was never really able to get over her initial fear of me. She was Millicent's friend, though, and she came along because of that. Killing her was a message not just for me, but for everyone. Bow down, or have your head removed."

He sighed.

"I understand, and this will be answered," he said. "I will not allow another child to be killed under my watch, not as long as it is in my power to prevent it."

"The only way to stop this kind of thing is to strike back in kind," I said. "Hard and fast enough that they will not want to ever try that again."

"It is not that easy..." he began.

I handed him a list.

"These are people that I know to be death eaters. Some of them I'm sure you know about; some of them you may not know about."

I handed him a list of names that I'd gathered together from my time looking over children's shoulders as they wrote letters, and my time in the Ministry.

"This isn't all of them, of course," I said. "It's a list of twenty five names that I am fairly certain are Death eaters."

"Fairly certain isn't enough to act on, Miss Hebert," Dumbledore said.

"Isn't it?" I asked. "I understood that Wizarding law tended to be looser about the rules than muggle laws. If you were to hit those with seats in the Wizengamot first..."

"Then they'd think that it was politically motivated, and I'd risk turning my own faction against me," he said.

I stared at him, and he had the grace to look embarrassed and look away. I'd had enough of excuses; people always talked about the reason that they couldn't take action, but they never actually did anything.

We were both silent for several long moments. I stared at Dumbledore as he stared at the fire. He looked exhausted and as old as I had ever seen him.

"How did the box get into my luggage?" I asked finally.

"There was an unfamiliar House Elf," Dumbledore said. "No one recognized him."

"They'd make perfect assassins you know," I said. "If the Death Eaters wanted you dead, all they'd have to do would be to have a house elf slip poison in your soup. They couldn't even say no if they were commanded to do it."

"I am taking steps to address this," Dumbledore said.

"Are House Elves expensive?" I asked.

"Very," Dumbledore said. "And you may not have the loan of one of the school's elves."

He'd been talking to Snape then.

I doubted that Millicent's family was rich enough to have one, but I had no doubt that she'd have lent it to me if I asked.

"If you start that kind of warfare, they will retaliate in kind," Dumbledore continued. "So I would ask that you think long and hard before you start it."

"It was just a theoretical question," I said airily.

Dumbledore looked as tired as I currently felt. "Go to bed Miss Hebert. Tomorrow will be a long day."

I nodded.

He escorted me back to the Slytherin dorms, and as he left, I turned to head up to my rooms. Millicent was in the infirmary, under the effect of a sleeping draught. There was talk of obliviating her for her own good, she was so upset by what she'd seen.

I was surprised to see Draco waiting for me.

He was pale.

"My father didn't know about it until afterward," he said. He hesitated, then looked around. "You knew about my father."

I nodded coldly.

"I'm aware of his allegiances."

Draco hesitated a moment. "He told me to tell you that Avery will be waiting for you outside."

"Your father would betray his own people like that?"

Draco shook his head.

"He's going to be killed anyway, after everything he's done," he said. He looked sick and pale. "But this is a gesture of goodwill."

Avery had cost Voldemort, and he had to know that this was going to cost him a lot more than anything else he'd done. Tracey had been a half blood, which meant that a lot of people who'd thought they were going to be safe were now going to reconsider. People were protective of their children, and this was exactly the sort of thing that would turn cowardly wizards into lions.

Malfoy was playing both sides against the middle. He wasn't giving me any information that I wouldn't have known anyway, not if I was the kind of seer I pretended to be. Most likely Voldemort had told Avery to challenge me, and having Draco deliver the message had been a punishment for Malfoy for one crime or another.

The fact that it was going to be a trap wasn't even in question, and Malfoy would assume that I understood that.

"I remember favors,' I said.

He looked relieved. Apparently he'd been afraid that I'd take Tracey's death out on him. The fact that he'd still come indicated a certain amount of bravery or possibly stupidity.

"I hope you didn't have trouble because you lent me your chest."

"I told my father that you took it. He said to tell no one, and he obliviated Crabbe and Goyle before they could tell anyone."

"You've seen how his friends deal with things they don't like," I said, nodding toward my room. He paled even farther. "Your father is likely right."

"They wouldn't..." he began.

"She was a Slytherin," I said. "A Slytherin and a halfblood. You think it would bother them to put your head in a box?"

He paled even farther.

"Go to bed," I said.

"What are you going to do?" he asked.

"Aurors are going to come to you tomorrow," I said. "And you are going to tell them that you fell asleep here. You never saw me leave, and you never saw me come back. This conversation never happened."

"What?" he asked.

"Or you might find out that your father's friends and I have something in common."

He frowned, then I saw my meaning dawn on him. He nodded.

"Get a blanket and pillow," I said.

He turned and went up the boy's stairs.

Pulling my foe glass out, I stared at it.

Avery was close, along with two others that I didn't recognize. Maybe Voldemort really meant for Avery to die or maybe he wanted to know what I could do against Wizards who were ready for me. Most likely the people with Avery were liabilities to his organization, people who had helped in the murder and so deserved almost as much punishment as Avery himself.

There were more than one way that this could be a trap. It might be more than physical; if they could catch me murdering my enemy, they'd be able to get me sent to Azkaban, and possibly killed on the way.

I'd escape on the way, of course, but they had no way to know that. I'd studied the ways in which the Supervillains in my world always escaped, and I suspected that Azkaban couldn't be as hard to escape as the Birdcage.

It didn't matter.

I had to respond to the murder of my acquaintance in a way that made it clear what would happen if anyone attacked my other friends. Otherwise none of them would be safe.

I closed my eyes and allowed my actual emotions to flood back into me. First came rage. Tracey had been a child; she'd never hurt anyone, and she'd been Innocent. Then came guilt.

Being emotional wouldn't help; I pushed my emotions back into my bugs and I straightened my shoulders.

Before I could think about it too much, I disillusioned myself. I slipped outside, and I headed for the girl's bathroom. A quick hissed command to open, and I was on my way down to the Chamber.

I tied my blindfold on and I closed my eyes.

"Hello," I hissed in Parseltongue.

"Hello, Stupid Speaker," the basilisk hissed. "Is it time to feed yet?"

Apparently snakes were language snobs almost as bad as the French.

I shook my head.

"No. I ask help."

"Oh?" the basilisk asked.

"Need kill egg breaker," I said. "Help me?"

I could almost feel her eagerness.

*************

"The bitch will never be able to resist," Avery was saying. I'd seen his face in the glass often enough to know exactly who he was. "A direct challenge like that. We'll finally be done with it once and for all."

"It'll be over after tonight, yes," one of the men behind him said.

I wondered if they had orders to murder Avery no matter what happened. If Voldemort could kill us both, it would solve a lot of his problems. He'd be able to blame the murder on a rogue faction, and claim that he'd killed him and provided the justice that the Wizarding world couldn't.

"I think so too," I said. I stepped out from behind Hagrid's hut. Hagrid was gone with the aurors, which was probably why they'd chosen this location.

They'd failed to provide hidden people either inside or behind the hut. Most likely it was because with only three of them, they'd been afraid I'd pick them off one by one. I'd been careful to check with every sense my bugs could muster.

Green light flew toward me, but I threw my darkness powder down.

Every one of them had a hand of Glory; I could sense all of them lighting theirs.

That meant that they could see but I couldn't; perfect.

"Coming after me, that I could understand," I called out in the darkness. "But the moment you came after my friends, you sealed your death warrant."

My voice rang out across the lawn, even as they charged around the corner.

"I'd like you to meet my friend," I said in a conversational voice. The basilisk reared up behind me; I could tell from the bugs I had on her.

They dropped dead almost at the same time, even as I dropped to the ground in case or more of them managed to get a shot off. They didn't though.

I'd have preferred to caused more pain; Avery had done enough that he'd deserved a lot worse than a quick and painless death. However, I was tired, and he wasn't worth it.

"Shall I eat?" the basilisk asked.

"No," I said. "Eggs."

The last thing I needed was for the Basilisk to get a taste for human flesh. I had a suspicion that it had tasted it before, but after a thousand years the memory was likely a little hazy.

As it turned out, the Basilisk loved the taste of eggs, considering them a treat, even though I had to make a lot of them to feed its ravenous appetite. Most likely it had eaten eggs when it was small, but once it had gotten large it had no longer been able to find anything with eggs large enough to taste.

When it was satisfied, it slithered away, and I set about the work of sending the message that I'd planned to send.

Getting rid of the tracks was the first task. I'd figured out how to do that a long while back, and I set to it with a gusto, using Avery's own wand.

Next was the massage that I meant to send. I began shrinking bodies, and then I was going to have to hurry to Hogsmeade while disillusioned. I couldn't cast any spells between those locations, so I was going to have to be ready.

De-shrinking the broomstick I'd gotten from the Death Eater from the train, I mounted it and disillusioned myself.

I was going to have to channel my inner Bonesaw for this one.

*************

"Where were you last night?" the Auror demanded. His face was red, and he looked as though he wanted to punch me.

Professor Sprout was the one who was watching us silently from the back. Snape and Dumbledore were still dealing with the aftermath of Tracey's death, and Flitwick was busy consoling students.

I should have been exhausted, but I'd taken a pepper up potion so that I would look fresh and not like I'd spent all night decorating Hogsmeade with body parts while disillusioned.

"In my bed, asleep," I said calmly.

"Is there anyone who can corroborate that?" he asked.

"Dumbledore himself sent me off to bed," I said. "My roommate was in the hospital because of the shock of seeing her friend's murdered corpse. I saw Draco Malfoy on the way up to my room; he was sleeping out in the common room."

"We've spoken to him," the auror said. "It's suspicious that he was there to provide you with an alibi."

"I'm sure the paintings did too," I said. "They were supposed to be on alert last night after what happened."

The fact that I had had known how to sneak by them while disillusioned wasn't relevant.

"Your roommate was so upset at the death that she had to be sedated," he said. "But you went to bed as though nothing had happened. You don't think that's suspicious?"

I shook my head. "I've been in a running battle with the Death Eaters all year. It was likely to happen sooner or later. She wasn't really my friend anyway, she was more Millicent's."

"I think you are lying. We can order Veritaserum," the auror said. "You don't even have parents who can object."

"I'm a natural occlumens," I said. "I wouldn't want you to waste your time. What's this all about?"

"There were brutal murders in Hogsmeade last night," the auror said. "You were the person who had the most reason to kill them."

"Me?" I said. I smiled. "I'm just a little girl. What could I possibly have done?"

"Spread body parts all over town," the auror said grimly.

"Check my wand," I said. "You'll find no killing curse."

"We'll check both of your wands," he said. "Moody told us."

I shrugged.

I'd done most of the cutting work with Avery's wand. I'd snapped all of their wands, and I'd used them to further desecrate the bodies.

Having both ends of their wands shoved into an eye socket was meant to make an impression.

This was about respect.

I needed everyone to believe that not only had I been able to overpower three Wizards, but that I'd been able to torture them without anyone seeing what had happened.

Handing over the wands, I watched as he performed a number of spells on them.

He seemed almost disappointed as he handed them back to me.

"We aren't finished with this," he said.

"You really think I'm capable of something like this?" I asked.

He stared at me. "Dead certain."

"You'd think you'd be more polite then," I said.

He frowned, and then a look of outrage appeared on his face. "You can't threaten an auror."

"I wasn't threatening anyone," I said, lifting my hands. "I was just wondering why you'd threaten someone who could kill multiple wizards. That wasn't me, of course, but you've already decided it was."

"Get out of here," he said.

I left Snape's office, which had been converted into a temporary interrogation room, and turned back to the Slytherin common room.

Everyone was waiting, staring at me.

"You've all heard what happened last night," I said.

From the looks on their faces they had.

"They've been coming for mudbloods for a long time, but no one said anything, because it didn't affect than,' I said. "But what about now? Tracey was one of you; she was a half blood, but she came from a good family. Her entire family was brutally murdered because they wouldn't turn her over."

I'd overheard that from the aurors.

"How long will it be before even being a pureblood isn't enough?" I asked. "When will they come for you or when will they ask you to step aside when they kill your mother, your sister, your brother?"

They were all watching me quietly.

"The smart thing was to keep your head down," I said. "But that was before they started coming after your kind of people."

I paused.

"Sooner or later, you'll have to pick a side," I said. "That's what all this is about. It's not the mudbloods verses the purebloods; you think the Death Eaters will let purebloods rule when they take over? They'll rule and everyone else will kneel."

"Think about it."

I turned and headed for my room before anyone could say anything. The potion was wearing off, and I needed to collapse onto my bed while no one was looking.

Classes were canceled for the day.1736ShayneTAug 6, 2019View discussionThreadmarks NewsView contentShayneTAug 9, 2019#16,581"Death Eaters desecrate Hogsmeade!" the headline screamed.

The pictures splashed all over the front page barely showed anything. It was difficult to understand what you were seeing at first, and then the whole picture suddenly sprang into focus.

I'd used every bit of artistry I remembered from following the Slaughterhouse. I hadn't expected the papers to show much of it but it had been meant to send a message to the Death Eaters and possibly to the aurors.

I could hear people gagging all over the Great Hall.

Apparently what little was shown in the picture was more than some people could handle.

The evening papers had just come in, and people were still eating when they opened their papers. I was surprised that the school hadn't confiscated them all.

I calmly continued eating as I read the article.

Apparently the leading theory about the deaths was that it was the work of Death Eaters, although there were some people who thought it was the work of werewolves.

I'd have thought that I'd left no doubt that it wasn't an attack by a violent beast, but Wizards were apparently gullible. Unthinking monsters didn't artfully arrange things; only thinking monsters did.

People were staring, not just at me, but at Hermione and Harry at the other tables. Nobody was bothering with Neville.

"Last night wasn't even a full moon!" I heard Hermione shout indignantly. "Hasn't anybody read the textbooks about werewolves?"

Hmm... nobody was sitting near me. I'd assumed that was because of the lower number of students this year, but apparently people were still believing the werewolf rumors. Or maybe rumors of what I had done to the Death eaters had spread before the Death Eater kids had left.

Having this attributed to the Death Eaters....had that been Voldemort's plan all along, or was it fortunate happenstance?

He'd managed to avoid some of the public relations damage from his former failure; the incident with the acromantulas wasn't known to the general public, and the incident on the train had been attributed to werewolf terrorists.

However, he had to work with the damage to morale within his own ranks. Having so many of their members killed by a small girl would be crushing, and undoubtedly there were members who were reconsidering their loyalty. He needed to win, and he needed it to be visible.

With this, he'd steal my message and make it his own.

Undoubtedly, very few people would even know that Avery had come to meet me, possibly only Lucius Malfoy and Draco.

Everyone else in his organization would think that he'd done what he'd done to send a message.

He might even send a message to the newspaper later, explaining that the Death Eaters were not responsible for Tracey's death, and that it had been a copycat trying to use their organization as an excuse.

He didn't even have to make up much of a story. Avery had struggled with an unhealthy obsession with me, and he'd done what he'd done to hurt me.

It blunted my message to the people at school, but it was useful in that it might divert the attention of the aurors.

I'd gotten my message across anyway; Voldemort knew that if he continued to escalate against my friends that I'd find ways to make his life a living hell, or I'd find a way to end it.

He was likely to spend a while regrouping and consolidating his power. He had time, and I had little doubt that he'd get stronger as memories faded.

I looked up; both Dumbledore and Snape were looking at me with disquieted looks. I smiled and waved a piece of bacon at them.

Snape scowled and Dumbledore looked troubled.

I'd given Dumbledore a chance, but even if he was honest, he couldn't protect my friends. A school was too soft a target; a determined attacker would get in sooner or later.

Finishing my meal, I stuffed some bacon in my pouch. The basilisk liked bacon too; it rarely got cooked foods.

The food enlargement spells were turning out to be highly useful.

As I stood up, Hermione stormed up to me, followed by Harry and Neville.

"They had the nerve to ask if I did this!" Hermione said, waving her rolled up newspaper. "If I was a werewolf I'd have eaten them all last night!"

"Well, it wasn't Harry," Ron said. "I was with him last night."

"It could have been a wereweasel," Draco said, walking by. "I think there are some red hairs on the bodies...oh, that's blood, my mistake."

He sneered at Ron, but he did not look at me at all.

On the surface he looked like he always did, but I could tell that his posture was stiff and he looked like he wanted to run. He was trying to bolster my story, such as it was, which meant that I couldn't punish him, even with little things like I did with Pansy.

"Shut up Malfoy," Potter said. "This isn't funny. Hogsmeade is right outside of Hogwarts! If the Death Eaters are this close, then nobody is safe!"

Draco glanced at me, then shrugged.

"Glad you're the one they're after, and not me."

"They're after all of us," I said.

The room went quiet.

"Why do you think they did this?" I asked. "This wasn't some random act of violence. They did this to make your parents afraid. They're telling your parents that they need to bow down, because they've got every one of us as hostages."

People were staring at me now.

"They didn't just kill Tracey," I said. "They killed her mom and her dad, her little sister and her brother. They murdered them because they wouldn't give her up."

"That was your fault," Pansy said quietly.

"Was it?" I asked.

Personally I agreed with her, but that didn't fit the narrative I was creating.

"They'd have come for her eventually, just like they'll come for every one of you. Maybe the pure bloods will be able to join up, but what kind of life will you have? As a Death Eater, they'll threaten your family as a way to keep you loyal."

I stood up higher.

"They'll throw you at aurors like Mad Eyed Moody, and at Dumbledore, thinking that it doesn't matter how many of you die, because all it takes is one man who gets through. How many of you would like to face the other side of Dumbledore's wand?"

"So what do we do?" a Slytherin third year asked.

"Learn to fight," I said. "Because sooner or later you are going to have to. That, or run."

"Miss Hebert," Snape drawled from behind me. "Kindly stop trying to start a revolution. The Headmaster would like to speak with you."

I nodded. I'd expected it, really.

There had been only two paths that the man could take; pretend that nothing had happened, or face up to it. The fact that he was calling me in now wasn't necessarily indicative of which path he would choose, but there was some hope.

I followed him down the hall.

We were silent until we reached Dumbledore's office.

I seated myself without being asked.

"Miss Hebert," Dumbledore said. He stared at me for an agonizingly long moment. "I told you yesterday that I would handle the Death Eater problem."

"Like you've been handling it?" I asked.

"These things take time," he said. "I did not expect you to take manners into your own hands less than an hours after we spoke."

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "It was the Death Eaters who killed those men; the papers said so."

"It's taken more than a day to piece enough of them to identify them," Dumbledore said. His eyes were hard. "But all three of them were Death Eaters."

"Is that what the tattoo on their arms means?" I asked. "I was curious. I've seen that tattoo on a few people in the Wizangamot, but nobody seems to care."

"Are you admitting that you did.... that?" Dumbledore asked.

"No," I said. "I may have Seen a thing or two, but I wouldn't be surprised if things like that keeps happening."

"What do you mean?"

"Vigilantes arise when the people in power don't protect the people," I said. "The rule of law can only be firm if it is enforced. Right now, people don't feel protected."

"Is this something you have Seen?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't see the future, usually," I said. "But it's obvious. I wouldn't be surprised if you see other people in masks doing the work that the aurors don't."

"Is that what you think happened?"

"It's how these things work," I said. "It's like a riot. There are people who won't break windows or destroy things on their own.... but if one other person does it first, they might."

Both he and Snape frowned.

"Other people might not do it if one other person does it, but once two do...and down the line, three, four, or more. I'm sure you have seen something like that at dances."

"This isn't a dance," Snape said irritably.

"Isn't it? I asked. "Isn't war a dance; you anticipate your opponent, move in tandem with how you think they will move. If they anticipate you, it becomes a thing of beauty."

"Do you think war beautiful, Miss Hebert?" Dumbledore asked. He sounded almost disappointed. "Because I was involved in the last Great War, and I can tell you that it was horrible."

"It's only beautiful from a distance," I said. "Up close, it's blood and death and destruction. War should never be the first resort, but there are times that it is inevitable."

"So you think this will keep happening," Snape said.

"You think it won't?" I asked. "All it takes is for the right people to get the idea, and then it will start."

"So you are saying that you did not do this," Dumbledore asked.

"When the Aurors ask you," I said. "You can tell them that I've always only defended myself."

"That's not an answer," Dumbledore said.

"What do you expect me to say? Admit to some kind of atrocity? Hasn't it occurred to you that Voldemort wanted Avery dead just as much as I did?"

Neither asked what I meant. Obviously they knew what I was talking about.

"He had every reason to kill him, and every reason to take credit for it. I'm going to assume that it was a peace offering for the death of my roommate."

"And that means that you have no intention of....further action?" Dumbledore asked.

"I've always said that I just wanted to be left alone," I said lightly.

I was lying, of course.

Conflict between me and the Death Eaters was inevitable by this point. They hated what I was with every ounce of their beings, and I'd killed enough of them that every member probably knew at least one person I'd killed. Many of them were likely family members.

"Were we to discover that you were the one to do this, I would be forced to expel you." Dumbledore said. "Which would not be a healthy option for you, not at this point."

"If you do so, what do you think I will do?" I asked.

Both of them stared at me silently.

"This is the safest place in Britain," I said. "And I just had an entire summer without incident, when I wasn't being attacked. You put me out there, and I won't have much of a choice. Most likely, I'll die, but I won't go alone."

"I am not asking you to leave," Dumbledore said. "But I can assure you that I will be taking action. The information you gave us is being double checked as we speak, and once we are sure...,' he said.

If it was true, then that was what I needed.

I needed time to get stronger, and having Moody's people and Dumbledore harass the Death Eaters would take attention away from me. If I was lucky, I might get an entire school year free of interference. I couldn't depend on that, of course, because a sudden attack after months of inactivity might be their smartest move.

"Then we have nothing else to talk about," I said. "If people believe that their government can protect them, then they'll be happy to leave it to them."

By people I meant me.

I could see that they both understood me.

Hopefully, Snape would send my message to Voldemort. Letting him know that I didn't plan to go after him any time soon would mean that he wouldn't feel forced to take action himself. I doubted that I'd survive something like that.

I stiffened.

Aurors were entering the building, and they were heading in our direction with a sense of purpose.

I rose to my feet.

"I'd better get back to class," I said. I carefully didn't reach for my wand; both Dumbledore and Snape were undoubtedly able to stop me without much effort.

Dumbledore nodded. "As long as we understand each other."

"There are aurors coming," I said. "they don't look happy."

The fact that they didn't try to stop me from leaving meant that they weren't trying to betray me. I stepped out into the hall, and I disillusioned myself.

I moved quickly toward the closest secret passageway. If the aurors were coming for me, I wouldn't make it easy for them.

I'd been hiding supplies in the Chamber for a while; sooner or later the Ministry was going to come for me, and I was going to need a literal bug out bag.

My plan to escape was simple; I could disillusion myself, and I had a broom down there. Once I was out in public, I'd have to watch my magic usage, so I'd been slowly accumulating some useful items. With a broom, it would be simple for me to get to France, and from there, I'd be able to move wherever I needed.

Lupin had gotten me a small book filled with maps. He hadn't known why I wanted it, but he'd seemed relieved that I'd had a seemingly normal interest.

I'd had him buy me a few other things as well.

Escaping wasn't the problem; the problem was what I would do afterwards. I could start a guerrilla war against the Death Eaters, but I wasn't ready yet. If it weren't for the Trace, I might have more of a chance.

I moved farther away; if they were coming for me they weren't going to find me easily.

The group of four aurors were grim faced and they moved directly toward Dumbledore's office. The gargoyle let them in without asking for a password.

"Sir!" the first auror said.

"Are you here for Miss Hebert?" Dumbledore asked. "I fear she has already fled."

The man shook his head.

"I have news. An hour ago Minister Fudge was assassinated by the muggleborn wife of a Ministry official."

"What?" Dumbledore asked.

"She's claiming to be part of a muggleborn terrorist organization," the man said. "And they say they won't rest until every pureblood is dead. She says they were responsible for what happened in Hogsmeade too."

I closed my eyes.

Obviously the woman had been mind controlled.

Voldemort was trying to change the narrative; if he could create a fictional danger, it was possible that he could gain the loyalty of the people.

"Who is taking command?" Dumbledore asked.

"The Wizengamot is being called to a vote," the man said. "You have been asked to attend."

Dumbledore nodded. His face was grim.

He should be.

The Death Eaters wouldn't have risked killing Fudge unless they were certain that they had the votes to put one of their people in the office of Minister.

If that happened, I might need my bug out bag sooner than later; the whole reason why I'd gotten away with as much as I had was because of the support of Dumbledore and his people. Had the scales finally tipped in the other direction?

There was nothing I could do but wait.1628ShayneTAug 9, 2019View discussionThreadmarks ElectionView contentShayneTAug 12, 2019#16,800Everyone was huddled around the Wizarding radio waiting for the results of the election. I could see anxiety on the faces of my classmates; although they were Slytherin, they had as much reason to worry about this as I did.

"The votes are in, folks," the announcer said excitedly. "A new Minister has been chosen."

It was only to be a temporary appointment until elections could be held at the end of the year, but the results of this election would affect everyone.

"Dolores Umbridge has been chosen as Minister for Magic!" the announcer shouted.

"Damn," I heard Bletchley say.

"I don't know her," I admitted. "Is she a Death eater?"

"No," Bletchley admitted. "Not as far as anyone can yell. That's probably why she was chosen. I doubt that Dumbledore had the votes to get one of his people in office, but he worked hard to block the Malfoy vote."

"There were a couple of others up for the position who would have been even worse."

"Is Umbridge that bad then?" I asked.

"She hates non-humans," Bletchley said. "She's tried to push several bills through the Wizengamot but she's never had any success, even as the aide to the Minister."

Most people were still shunning me, but the people I'd protected during the troll attack still spoke to me.

"The new Minister is going to speak!"

We could hear the sounds of the crowd quieting down as a woman spoke in an amplified voice.

"The Ministry of Magic exists to protect its citizens," she said in a prim voice. "A task that I fear it has failed in repeatedly under previous administrations."

Hadn't she been part of the previous administration?

"My administration will be different. No longer will rogue werewolves be allowed to attack our school; no longer will children be murdered and mutilated. Bloodshed has been allowed on the very threshold of Hogwarts itself, and it will no longer be tolerated!"

She paused.

"My first act as Minister will be to depose Albus Dumbledore from his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts. He has allowed children to be murdered on his watch, and he has failed his sacred duty! He was a hero in his day, and perhaps it is time that he retire to his well deserved laurels."

"My second act is to propose legislation to control the werewolf scourge that has been afflicting our nation. Werewolves have proven themselves to be traitors in addition to being monsters."

When several people turned to look at me, I stared at them with a cold look. Some of them paled and turned away quickly.

"We will root them out wherever they are, and we will contain the threat! I am giving all werewolves one week to leave Great Britain. After that, any who remain will be sentenced to Azkaban!"

Everyone was silent, staring at the radio.

Werewolves had always been looked down on by Wizarding society, but I knew that several of the Slytherins in the room had relatives who were werewolves. Some of them might even have people they cared about as werewolves.

"Anyone who would threaten the stability of this Great Nation must be prepared to pay the ultimate price, ahem!" she continued.

"We will once more have peace and harmony," she said. "But we must work together to eliminate disreputable elements. The muggleborn do not understand our way of life! They cannot be blamed for their weakness, but they cannot be allowed to disrupt our nation."

"A new class in Wizarding culture will become mandatory for all muggleborns at Hogwarts, effective immediately," she said. "And anyone who intends to hurt or threaten real wizards will be punished to the full extent of the law."

Real wizards meant purebloods in political doublespeak.

"We will not tolerate insurrection. We will not tolerate attacks on our values. Those who try to enter our world with bad intentions will be stopped! I pledge the full force of the Ministry to protect our way of life!"

"Thank you," she said.. "And we will speak again."

"It might not be so bad," one of the fifth years said to another. "Maybe if the muggleborns learn the right way to do things, then people won't have to fight so much."

His companion glanced back at me.

"You think she's going to learn the right way to do things?"

"We'd be better off if she was a werewolf," the fifth year said. "Werewolves are stupid. I think a werewolf who bit her would get sick."

"You think the Dark Lord was like her when he was young?"

"He was probably nicer."

When they saw me looking at them, they paled and hurriedly got up.

None of this was good. Things had been bad enough for the muggleborn and the werewolves before the death of Fudge. It sounded like Umbridge was planning to increase the pressure.

That was likely to force people to fight back, which would be taken as further proof that they were enemies of the state.

"Well, nothing we can do about it now," Flint said. He looked at me. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

"I'm not interested in being beater," I said. At his look, I said," I'd probably hurt somebody, and I've got more important things to do."

He stepped up close to me and spoke in a low voice.

"If you want people to follow you, you have to get them to like you," he said. "And nothing is more popular in school than a Quidditch star. The way you're going, nobody is going to want to get within a thousand feet of you. That's a bad place to be when people come gunning for you."

"People don't have to like you," I said. "Fear works just fine, and respect works even better."

"They'll be coming for you sooner or later," he said. "You'll need people to watch your back."

"Why do you care what happens to me?" I asked.

"You saved the team last year," he said. "Bletchley is actually my friend. Also, I like my intestines inside my body. A lot of us know you had a problem with Avery's da, and suddenly he's dead and scattered all over Hogsmeade?"

"I'm just a second year," I said. I forced myself to smile and he shuddered.

"Think about it," he said. "Tryouts are in a week."

***************

"I would like to introduce you to the new Headmaster of Hogwarts," McGonegall said. She didn't seem particularly pleased.

The new Headmaster was an enormous man, so large that he dwarfed everyone else except Hagrid.

He was almost seven feet tall, and he was heavily muscled, which was unusual for Wizards.

"This is Finnegan Rowle," McGonegall said. "Your new headmaster."

The applause was muted.

The man stood, and he scowled.

"It is my understanding that your former headmaster was entirely too lenient with you all. He literally allowed some of you to commit murder."

He glared at me when he said that.

"That will stop immediately," he said. "Discipline will be enforced, and those who are sent to my office will regret it! The system has been entirely too lenient and that will be changing."

Was he a death eater, or just an ass? I'd find out eventually, but even if he was a death eater, killing him would bring the entire weight of the Ministry down on me.

"All detentions will be supervised by me," he said. He snarled. "And there are chains in my office."

He was actually making things worse for himself. I knew the professors, and even Snape wouldn't leave students to be tortured. That meant that professors would be reluctant to do detentions at all, and discipline would be worse than it would have otherwise been.

Dumbledore had been too lenient, but this man was making a mistake too. At the least he shouldn't have been so blatant about it.

"I will speak to Miss Hebert in my office," he said.

"She can't have done something already?" McGonagall said.

"No, but unless I lay down the law early, there is no telling what she is going to do."

"Miss Hebert," McGonagall said. "After dinner."

I nodded.

I wasn't close enough to hear their conversation, but McGonagall had assumed that I'd be listening. How much did she know about my supposed seer powers?

After dinner, I headed for the Headmaster's office.

Professor Snape stepped in behind me.

"I won't hurt him," I said. "But I won't let him hurt me either."

"I'd prefer not to trust your idea of self defense, Miss Hebert," Snape said. "And I wish to see his...methods for myself."

"He's not..." I began, then glanced at all of the paintings around us in the hall.

"Unlike you, I do not have the benefit of limited omniscience," he said. "And not all wizards know each other, as much as muggleborn might assume otherwise."

"There's only ten thousand of you," I protested. "And you all go to school together. There's a pretty good chance that you know him."

"I do not," he said. "But I must work with him. The Ministry has assigned him, in all of their Wisdom."

As I stepped into the Headmaster's office, I saw the chains hanging from the back wall first. There were several other objects whose purpose I couldn't be sure of, but they reminded me of trips to the dentist office.

"Miss Hebert," the man said. "Sit down."

I slowly sank into my chair. My hand was on my wand; this was an obvious attempt to intimidate me, but why?

"I don't like you," he said. "And would you like to know why?"

"Because you're a pureblood?" I asked. Playing the race card this early in the discussion was a sign of weakness on my part, but I really didn't know what he wanted.

"No," he said. "It's because I see you wasting your potential! You are violent much like a mad dog, attacking anyone who gets in your way. And you know what happens to mad dogs?"

I stared at him without speaking.

"Mad dogs get put down," he said. "And that's what will happen to you. I've seen your school records, and you are a gifted young witch, possibly the most gifted in our age."

"That hardly fits the whole muggleborn not having magic narrative, does it?" I asked.

"There are exceptional individuals in every walk of life," he said. "And the cream will always rise to the top. That does not mean that the rest are salvageable."

He stood up, looming over me.

"The Hogwarts curriculum is a joke. Every year a new defense teacher? Classes on music, on muggle studies?"

"Muggle studies might be useful," I said.

"How many wizards are going to live among the muggles?" he asked. "For every one who does, the Statute of Secrecy gets strained more and more. It's already strained to the breaking point, and you want us to send purebloods out among them?"

He shook his head. "It's better for each kind to stay with their own; you may think I know nothing about the muggle world, but I do. How are Wizards going to live there without records, without a muggle education? They'd never be able to get a good job there, and the temptation to cheat would be almost overwhelming."

He did have a point, although I suspected that it could be done.

"Memory charms," I began.

"It's not safe for us to live among them either," he said. "Repeated obliviations can cause... problems. The only way to keep muggles and Wizards safe are to keep them separate."

"What does all of that have to do with me?" I asked.

"You're a natural troublemaker," he said. "Even if you weren't out murdering people, you think that Wizarding society should be more muggle."

"You don't know me," I said calmly. I'd pushed my anger and irritation into my bugs. "How could you know that?"

"Because that's what all of the muggleborn want. It's perfectly natural to want things the way you grew up, but if we made our world the same as the muggle world, then we'd lose something incredibly special."

I didn't agree with him. By it's nature the wizarding world would never be like the muggle world. Adding in the things that made the muggle world an improvement could only make things better.

There were things that the Wizarding World did better, and it wasn't just health care. There seemed to be no sexism here, and no prejudice against skin color. Because every Wizard could maintain a good status of living, there were no truly poor wizards, not in the way that the muggle world had. No wizard was ever going to starve.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Be a normal student for once," he said. "Don't kill anybody, and don't hurt anyone. If you do, I won't lock you in these chains; I'd be watching my back for the rest of the term. I will call the aurors, and I suspect that you know how well that would go for you."

Was he trying to say that I would be killed, or just that I'd end up in the Wizengamot.

"I won't have you being the standard bearer for those muggleborn terrorists," he said. "If I had my choice, you'd be expelled right now, but Dumbledore still has enough supporters in the school board that I have to show just cause."

He leaned forward.

"Please give me that cause," he said. The smile he was giving me wasn't particularly nice. "And should I go missing, everyone will know you did it. You'll end up in Azkaban then as well."

I stood up.

"I'm not sure why you think I'm some kind of terrible person," I said. "I just have terrible luck."

"Terrible luck?" he asked.

"Death Eaters tend to die around me," I said, glancing at his sleeve. His expression didn't change though.

"But except for that time with the troll, and the time with the duel, and a few schoolyard incidents, I've been a model student."

"And the rumors about your being a werewolf?"

"You can watch me next full moon," I said brightly. "I promise I won't eat your face or anything!"

He paused and stared at me assessingly.

"I don't take well to threats," he said.

"If I'm not a werewolf, it wasn't a threat," I said. "And I'm not. The Death Eaters on the train never touched us, and even if they had, werewolves are only contagious on nights of the full moon. Professor Travers taught us that last year as first years."

Travers had been an ass, but he'd been a good defense teacher.

"Move along, Miss Hebert," he said. "And reflect on what we've talked about."

"I've got to get to Defense class," I said brightly. "Don't want to miss my first day."

As I left I listened in.

"She's as bad as I had heard," Headmaster Rowle said. "I fear she is lost."

"Are you sure this is the best tact to take?" Snape asked mildly. "In my experience, Miss Hebert is capable of responding to reason, if it is expressed properly."

"That is the problem with this school," Rowle said. "Children think that adults should cater to them. That's not going to happen on my watch."

I frowned. It still wasn't certain that the man wasn't a Death Eater; there were pictures of former Headmasters in the office, and it wasn't smart for them to speak about anything truly damning.

I barely slipped into my seat on time.

A handsome man stepped into the middle of the room.

"I'm sure you all know who I am," the man said. "My fame extends from the shores of darkest Africa, to the Great Wall of China. I am the award winning author of over a dozen books, and I am your Defense Professor."

We'd been briefly introduced to this man this morning, before learning about the Headmaster.

"Gilderoy Lockhart is my name," the man said, bowing deeply.

He smiled and beside me a heard Hermione sigh dreamily.

I stared at him suspiciously.

"For our first lesson of the day," he said, "We will speak about the scourge of Wizardkind... Cornish Pixies."

Something in a covered cage was eating my bugs faster than I could send them. I tensed, and my hand went to my wand.

He pulled the cover off the cage and opened it.

After that it was chaos.