The sun began fading down the horizon as Hermione turned the last page of the book. She had read all afternoon, oblivious to the occasional bangs and crashes coming from downstairs. Hermione grinned, remembering what Albert had said about how the topic would interest her. Her smile faded like the sunlight had as she wondered how he knew so much about her. Had he investigated her background like a Muggle secret agent, or was she simply famous without realizing it? Either way, he seemed to know how she always argued with Luna, and how she had walked out on Professor Trelawney a few years ago.
Hermione sat up straighter on the bed, letting her mind wander and go over what she had found in Shannon’s book. It was about wizarding legends and rumors, and it systematically brought evidence proving or disproving the existence of things such as Blibbering Humdingers, heliopaths, and other Quibbler-worthy items. It also dealt with the so-called Rotfang Conspiracy. (Shannon said on this topic, “I’m an Auror, and I can attest that both I and my colleagues have absolutely no interest in taking over the world with Dark magic and gum disease- or anything else, for that matter- and I still have no idea how this insane rumor started.”) Hermione had really enjoyed the topic, as well as the writing style. Now, blinking hard, she stood up and stretched, jumping as she heard the door open behind her.
Hermione turned her head to see who was there, but although the door was open a crack, there was no one else in the room. Hermione quietly stood up and tiptoed to the door. She opened the door wide, and found a person standing right in front of her. Startled, Hermione jumped slightly, feeling her heart skip a beat, and said nervously, “Who are you?”
The person, who was a girl probably around nineteen, answered her cheerfully.
“I’m Verity Stone. Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I just didn’t want to burst in on you, so I just waited outside. I was coming to ask- are you ready for dinner?”
Hermione smiled and asked, “Sure, what’s on the menu?”
Verity didn’t know, but the two walked downstairs together and Verity led the way into an elegant, old-fashioned, dusty dining room. Hermione sat down next to Verity, and looked across the table to see who was sitting opposite her. A dour-faced, middle-aged man with thinning grey hair was staring toward the door and ignoring her and Verity except for a brief glance.
Looking around the table, Hermione saw there were many chairs, but only five had place settings besides her own. Albert was sitting on the opposite side, near the gloomy man but closer to the door. He mumbled a quiet hello to Hermione and Verity.
The door burst open and Shannon arrived, talking animatedly and waving her hands around to illustrate whatever point she was making. The woman she was talking to was an older adult, and carrying a tray with a covered pot and a glass pitcher on it. Shannon flung herself down in an empty seat, the woman sitting near her more sedately. Looking around the table, Shannon decided to introduce the diners to each other.
“Hello, good evening, everyone! This is Hermione Granger,” she announced, pointing to Hermione, then at the auburn-haired Verity, “this is Verity Stone, an old friend of mine actually, and here is Albert Tanner, whom you all know, I think, and this is Doran Langin-” that was the dour, solemn man, who mumbled something incomprehensible when his name was mentioned- “this is Miriam Strout, and of course, me, Shannon Crabtree,” she added as an afterthought, with a dramatic flourish.
Hermione looked at the kind-faced, motherly woman more carefully. Miriam Strout- she was a healer at St. Mungo’s! Hermione had met her in the Longbottom’s ward, and Broderick Bode’s! Right now, she was serving them all dinner. Hermione took a bite of the food on her plate, and smiled at Miriam. Shannon was whispering something furtively to Albert, and Verity and Doran were eating. Miriam, finished serving everyone, sat down in between Shannon and Hermione.
Hermione turned to Verity, who was sitting on her left.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
Verity swallowed the mouthful of food she’d been chewing.
“Er, I’m staying here for a while, because- well, I’m starting my job in Diagon Alley, and I needed to stay near here, and since this is an Order-”
“Shhh!” Albert hissed, facing them from across the table. “It’s not secure right now, remember, so don’t say that name!”
Verity rolled her eyes. “So, as I was saying, I helped clean out this place so Albert could use it for a while as a secondary headquarters, but apparently it isn’t secure enough. We’ll probably have to return to London for a while, or go to Hogsmeade maybe.”
Hermione took another bite of food, and turned to Miriam.
“Didn’t I meet you last winter, at the ward in St. Mungo’s?” she asked curiously.
Miriam’s face darkened, and she covered it with her hands, letting out a small, painful sob.
Shannon patted her sympathetically on the shoulder.
“It’s all right, Miriam, she didn't know; she didn’t mean to remind you,” Shannon soothed.
“Sorry, Miriam, I didn’t mean- I didn’t know I was being inconsiderate. Are you all right?” Hermione said quickly, feeling bad about whatever she had done, but slightly confused. It had been a regular question, hadn’t it? She realized that she must have accidentally hit a sore spot. Almost as tactless as Ron, she thought, and then quickly focused back on Miriam, turning her mind away from thoughts of Ron.
Miriam lowered her hands, having composed herself, and smiled apologetically at Hermione.
“I’m fine, thanks. It’s quite all right, really, I know you have no idea of what’s happening. Things are- well, difficult- at work now. After what happened to Bode- you know about that, right?”
Hermione nodded, remembering the article in the Daily Prophet she had read about the mysterious murder of Broderick Bode, from the Department of Mysteries. Harry had figured out why he was killed from dreams he’d had of Voldemort, but she supposed the Ministry and St. Mungo’s still had no way of knowing that Death Eaters had wanted him dead because he knew what they were after- the prophecy.
“So, the plant that killed him arrived that same day, and since the only other people nearby were regular visitors, like the Longbottoms, and Harry Potter and his friends, who are above suspicion, obviously, so I was practically the main susp- wait a minute!" Hermione could practically see the information clicking together in Miriam's head like puzzle pieces snapping together.
Miriam said in a surprised voice,"You were there! On that day, I mean. That’s what you were talking about, meeting me- I knew you looked familiar."
Hermione said, “Yes, that’s why I asked you. I remember seeing you-“
Miriam interrupted her eagerly. “You didn’t happen to see anyone else suspicious that day, did you? By any chance?”
Hermione shook her head. “No, just us, and the Longbottoms. There was one old man with a hearing trumpet in the lobby who mentioned Bode-“
Miriam sighed. “Oh well. That’s Bode’s uncle, Barclay Corelious- he’s quite old, pretty well known, and the Ministry checked him out afterwards, naturally- no luck there. The only other people there were you, and Oliver Wood, of course.”
Hermione leaned forward in her seat. "Oliver Wood? The one who used to be Gryffindor Quidditch captain? What do you mean, ‘of course’?”
Miriam explained, “Oh, he’s on Puddlemere United, and the Quidditch teams always send someone to help out, bring up packages and things like that, during the holidays, to show good spirit or something like that. The tradition supposedly started when a Quidditch player everyone liked ended up at St. Mungo’s. Nowadays the reserve players usually are sent, since the main players are generally busy.”
“So he came in that day?” Shannon asked. “I haven’t heard about this before.”
“Yeah, he was actually the one who brought in the plant, as a matter of fact. He brought all the presents up from the lobby. The Ministry did ask him a few questions, but no one suspects him- what does a Quidditch player have to do with anything?” Miriam shrugged sadly.
“I wish they would figure it out soon. The Auror in charge of the whole thing is a bit overeager, in my opinion. I have as little to do with it as Harry Potter, for heaven’s sake! The way everyone looks at me these days, like I’m a careless fool who let her patient get murdered under her nose…What was I supposed to do? I’m no herbologist, I did all right in my exams but I would never dream of checking a houseplant, for heaven’s sake, I never meant…” she stopped and sadly sniffed. “Don’t tell me it’s all in my head, I see them, every day. No one trusts me anymore-“
“Oh, Miriam, that’s not true,” Verity said bracingly. “Here, have some tea. Everyone respects you- everyone with a grain of sense anyway; no one thinks anything is your fault, because it isn’t.”
Miriam sipped the tea Verity had conjured up.
“Thank you. I don’t know how I got so carried away. I never go on like this, normally- I’m just so overwhelmed these days…” The rest of her sentence trailed off as she downed the rest of the tea in one gulp.
Hermione was remembering the Healer she had met that day. She had been poised, cheerful, and motherly- and now she was a worn-out, overly sensitive shell of her former self. Hermione wished she could help her, but the Ministry definitely shouldn’t know about Harry’s connection with Voldemort- especially since they had only recently started regarding him as sane. Telling them that Harry had dreamed about Rookwood and Voldemort would be really foolish. Maybe if she could discover the real murderer, and be able to give them a clue that had no connection to Harry…
“What’s the name of the Auror investigating, by the way?” Hermione asked casually.
“Oh, him,” Miriam looked up from her teacup. “Sheridan Murkins, I believe. He certainly is trying very hard, he’s rather young and, er, enthusiastic,” she added dryly.
Hermione made a mental note, and turned her gaze to her dinner, listening to the conversation of the others. Doran didn’t seem to talk at all, only responding to Albert; and even to him, Doran just grunted or spoke in monosyllables. Albert spoke quietly about the weather or other very neutral subjects, occasionally shushing anyone who strayed too close to Order subjects, while Shannon spoke eagerly and knowledgeably about anything that came up. Miriam appeared to have temporarily forgotten her worries, as Verity spoke with her over Hermione’s head about a recent discovery in potion-making.
Before long, Hermione was helping everyone clear up the plates and bring them through the swinging doors into the kitchen. Doran disappeared right after he brought in his plate, leaving Hermione uncertain if he’d left the house or simply gone upstairs.
Verity led Hermione into the small sitting room she’d been knocked out in when she first arrived, and they sat on the sofa and chatted about wizarding history for a few hours, discovering they shared many of the same interests. Verity told Hermione a little about her family. She came from a very large family and her father was very strict and set in his ways. Hermione didn’t find out much more than that, because Verity seemed much more interested in Hermione’s family, and what it was like for her coming from a Muggle background.
Hermione finally excused herself; she wanted to go to her room to write letters. Verity wished her good night, and Hermione went up to her room. She took out two pieces of paper and dashed off letters to Harry and Ron.
*********
Dear Harry,
I miss you, hope you’re safe and the Dursleys aren’t treating you too badly. A lot of things are happening, can’t tell you any more now, sorry, but I hope to see you soon. Please don’t be anxious that this letter is very short, it’s a bit late now.
Hermione
*********
The letter to Ron was harder to write. Hermione sat, thinking about what she wanted to say. Twice she started the letter, only to realize it was no good and start over on a clean sheet.
********
Dear Ron,
I hope you are having a great summer. How are things at the Burrow? I hope I can come for a visit later and see you. Right now there is a lot going on, I hope I can tell you later. I’ve got to send this now, but please write back soon.
Hermione
********
The letters finished, she went downstairs, heading into the kitchen. Miriam and Shannon were sitting at the table there.
“Hello, do either of you have an owl I can borrow?” Hermione asked.
“Sure, I’ll go and get him for you.” Shannon got up and went into another room, coming back with a spotted barn owl clinging to her arm.
“This is Driscol.” Shannon handed the owl to Hermione.
“He should be back soon; I only need to send a few letters. Thanks so much for lending him to me. He’s a really cute owl, by the way.”
Hermione sent Driscol off with the letters, told Shannon and Miriam good night, and went upstairs again to her room.
She was lying in bed some time later, on the verge of falling asleep, when suddenly, near the door, she saw a flash of green light. Hermione sat bolt upright in her bed, making her head spin a bit dizzily, so she put her head back down on the pillow. An odd smell of burnt smoke reached her nose, but she was tired and decided to ignore it and fall asleep, since it probably was nothing anyway. She could investigate in the morning.