After Ron was treated for his injury, the three of them returned to Grimmauld Place. Then for the next two days he and Hermione barely spent any time apart. Harry started to get sick of catching them stealing glances at each other and grinning. He wondered whether or not anything happened, and when.
But that all came to an end when Ron had to leave once more, and neither of them were happy about it. And Harry had to admit that he’d rather be annoyed than have Ron do something he didn’t want to do. When he came back in the middle of the afternoon the next day, he looked even worse than the aftermath of his first Quidditch match.
“Hi, Ron,” Hermione greeted him expectantly.
“Yeah,” he muttered half-heartedly, not even meeting her eyes. “Bed.” Ron then slumped upstairs without even greeting Harry. Hermione looked extremely put out.
Over the course of the following weeks whenever Ron went out, he came back even worse than before. He always went up to his room and locked himself in, not talking to Harry or Hermione. The only time they ever really saw him was during meal times, and even then Ron wouldn’t talk to them. He only grunted when they tried to start a conversation.
Unlike Harry, who was worried about him, Hermione seemed to get angrier and more frustrated with each passing day. She always greeted Ron kindly and wanted to get one in return. Whenever it seemed like she was blown off, Hermione always turned to Harry and said, “Can you believe him?” Then she went on a rant that Harry learned to tune out.
But that was only one of Harry’s problems. Every week he had to go back to the Ministry of Magic, and keep on pretending that he approved of Scrimgeour’s actions. And it wasn’t just confined to the Ministry, either. Sometimes they’d go on a little field trip to detention centers for suspected Death Eaters”and they were only a few steps up from the prison Harry helped liberate.
Each time they’d pass a cell, the occupants would keep on pleading to be set free, that they had no connections to the Death Eaters. Whenever Harry had the stomach to look into one of their eyes, he’d see innocence. He doubted any of them were guilty enough of anything to be locked up. What made it worse was that they’d see “The Chosen One” approving of it.
One day an oddly familiar voice called out to him. “Potter!” He looked into the cell, and was shocked to find Larry, the owner of the Witch’s Wand, locked up. Larry had gotten thinner, his hair was almost gone, and the cheery smile was gone from his face. “Please, you gotta vouch for me. I keep tellin’ them I had no role on the attack at Godric’s Hollow, but they won’t believe me.”
“Let the system decide that, Harry,” Scrimgeour said to him, wanting to continue the tour.
When the Minister turned away, Harry gave Larry a sympathetic look, and mouthed, “Soon.” And he left behind a relived looking man. But what he didn’t know was that Harry didn’t know when soon was. First he had to get information that would get Scrimgeour to back off. If not, then the Minister might have the gall to give Ron and Hermione their own cell.
When February the eleventh came, Ron had at least told him and Hermione that he would once be heading out. For some reason he sounded even more reluctant than usual to do so. But, of course, he didn’t give any reason as to why that was. So, they all just sat down for dinner that night before Ron had to leave, and once again he didn’t speak. Harry, though, decided not to think about it that night. Mrs. Weasley had sent over fresh food for them, and he was determined to enjoy.
“Ron, we have to talk,” Hermione spoke up suddenly. Harry choked on his food. She had to do this now during dinner? She couldn’t have cornered Ron during any other time?
“Can’t. Have to go,” Ron said, getting up quickly. He barely had two bites.
Hermione got in his way. “A few minutes won’t kill you.” Throwing a mental fit, Harry threw down the fork and knife, and left the kitchen to leave them alone. He was tempted to stay when heard her say, “I want to know…”
Harry decided to go into Hermione’s room, got Standard Book of Spells, Grade Seven out of her trunk, and decided to give it a shot after so many months. There was nothing too useful that he could use in a fight with Voldemort, but perfectly suited if he was in a duel with one of his lesser cronies. Some stuff about how a proper stance can make a spell more effective, and how to Transfigure inanimate objects into animals. He’d need a teacher to get the moist out of most of the material. At least it got his mind of those two in the basement kitchen.
Just then the sounds of someone coming upstairs got to his ear, and a few seconds later Hermione came into the room smiling brightly. “Oh, finally studying up, I see,” she commented.
“A bit,” he admitted. “So what was your little talk about?”
“Nothing. Ron left by the way, and I’m going to bed.”
Harry looked at the clock in surprise. “It’s not that late.”
“But I’ll be getting up early,” she responded, shooing him away. “Good night.”
After slamming the door in his face, Harry put it out of his mind, and decided to finally have his dinner. He warmed it up with a wave of his wand, and happily ate as if nothing had interrupted his meal.
When morning arrived, a loud knocking at his door woke Harry up. “Harry,” Hermione called through. “Get up, I need to ask you something.” Groaning tiredly, and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he arose and went to open the door to find a Hermione who had already completed her morning chores. She hadn’t been joking when she said she was getting up early.
“What d’you need?” he asked groggily. Harry hadn’t gotten up so early since he still had classes to attend.
“Just some money if you will,” she said in a reluctant tone. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can, of course.”
Pretty surprised by the sudden favor, Harry still went over to his trunk and took out his moneybag. “How much?” In response, she took the whole bag, and bolted out of the room and down the stairs. “What’s it for?” he called after her.
“You’ll see,” she called back. Then the sound of the front door opening and closing came up. Harry rolled his eyes, he grabbed some clothes out of his trunk so he could go and clean up. He sat alone in the house (actually, he heard Kreacher sneaking about sometimes) for the next few hours, and continued reading Hermione’s book.
A few more useful tips he could use against Death Eaters in an ocean of dumb ones later, the front door opening and closing filled his ears. Not long after that, Harry saw her enter the room with a rather large package.
“What’s in there?” he asked curiously. It was still his money that she must have bought it with after all.
“You’ll see,” she said again, shooing him out of her room. “Read the book somewhere else, would you?” Hermione them slammed the door in his face once more.
“Fine,” Harry told the door crossly. He decided to continue downstairs in the kitchen. There, he got the second surprise of the day: Ron was just sitting at the table having a drink.
“Hey, Harry,” he greeted lamely, taking a swig.
“When did you get here?” he asked, bewildered by his sudden appearance. “The front door””
“Floo,” he answered, looking to be in thought. He beat some soot of his clothes. “Didn’t feel like Apparating.”
Harry suddenly became concerned, and put it aside taking a seat next to him. “What’s wrong? By the way Hermione’s acting, I figured something good happened between the two of you.”
Ron drummed the flask with his fingers. “I guess it was, but then again…” He trailed off, and shook his head. “I got some pretty nice news last night after I left, at least.” A grin then cracked across his, and he began to chuckle to himself for the first time in over a month. “You know what? I’m gonna enjoy it.” He then stood up, and downed the rest of his drink. “Thanks for the talk, mate,” he said, wiping his mouth and leaving behind a confused Harry, who barely said anything useful.
Harry followed him, and went back upstairs just as Hermione came down from her room saying breathlessly, “Ron! I didn’t hear you some in.”
“Flooed here,” he responded simply. “How was your day?”
Ron was really surprising Harry. Wasn’t he sulky the previous day? What did Hermione do to him?
“Fine. I got some news robes for the fourteenth,” she said, answering Harry’s question. They were going on a date! Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hand creep into Ron’s.
“Can’t wait,” Ron said nervously. Hermione was beamed even more. Harry went upstairs to give them peace. He’d much rather be in sugary moments than watch one take place. But he did wonder why at first Ron was reluctant to go out.
Early the next day, it seemed that it was going to be the same thing all over again. Harry contemplated heading somewhere else to give them their privacy. He hadn’t seen the joke shop in a while, and he was sure Fred and George wouldn’t mind hearing about what was going on. Plus, they must have something planned for Valentine’s Day at the shop, so the decorations might be spectacular. Maybe he could finally laugh about the aura of discomfort he was in. He might even get to practice the spell later, which he hadn’t done so in ages.
But just as the thought was crossing his mind, Hermione came down holding an open letter. Why does she get the letters?
“The Council wants us, Harry,” she announced.
“ ‘Us’ as in…?” he asked.
“Just the two of us. Sorry, Ron,” she said to him.
All Ron said was, “Good luck, then.”
“Wonder what they want this time? Why only the two of us? Think it’s a Horcrux?” Harry asked, as he and Hermione went into the hallway, and out the front door.
She shook her head. “Doubt it. I don’t think Draker knows anymore more about where to find one then we do. And it’s unlikely they’d find another source of information.”
“You just don’t want tomorrow ruined,” Harry said accusingly. After Apparated to the alley near headquarters, they then ran up to the house that inflated between two others.
“I do not,” she continued as if nothing magical happened. “If sacrificing tomorrow meant finding another Horcrux, then I would gladly give it up.”
When they went upstairs, Harry saw the wizard who he remembered to be Trenton Perch waiting outside the Council’s room. For some reason he was holding a camera.
“What’s going on?” Harry asked him.
Trenton smiled at them. “Hello, Harry. Just go inside. I was instructed to wait out here until I was needed.” He lifted his camera to signify he would probably be using it. He then opened the door for them.
When they went inside Harry was slightly surprised that all four members of the Council were present. They hadn’t all been there at once since the initiation. And for some reason they all looked rather grim and disturbed.
“Come in, you two,” Lupin said, waving them in. Harry noticed he had a fresh scar on his left cheek. Lupin noticed him noticing it, and smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m perfectly okay. Tonks actually likes how it looks on me.”
“This isn’t the time for that, Remus,” McGonagall snapped. She then turned back to Harry and Hermione, and took out her wand to conjure some chairs for them. “Take a seat, you might need it.”
When they did, it was Sturgis Podmore who spoke solemnly, “We got some unsettling information last week regarding security within the Ministry. They have been infiltrated at a very high level.”
Harry and Hermione gasped. “How far?” they asked at the same time. In response, Moody pulled out a folder from under the table, and slid it towards them.
“You’ve got to be joking!” Harry exclaimed. He opened the folder to see a photo of a face that he sees almost every time he went to the Ministry. “Henry Dempsher? He’s a Death Eater?”
“But that’s impossible!” Hermione insisted, her eyes wide. “Dempsher is the head for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement! There is absolutely no way that a Death Eater could penetrate the Ministry that far in. Even Scrimgeour wouldn’t be so blind.”
“It’s not that the Minister is blind, Granger,” Moody said. “It’s that Dempsher is damn near invisible. He has absolutely no criminal record of any kind. The Ministry ran a full-blown background check on him before he was promoted. He’s clean.”
“We ran one ourselves to be on the safe side,” Sturgis took over. “The only queer thing about Dempsher was that his Gringotts bank vault went steadily dry before You-Know-Who’s first rise to power. His family fortune reduced to half of what it used to be. He was still young back then, so the Ministry probably thought it was just an over indulgence of a rich, young man’s experiments of vice.”
“Listen,” McGonagall said, “we have been trailing him as discreetly as possible ever since the accusation was brought forth.” She sighed heavily. “And sure enough, he made a brush pass with another person. We followed her too, and it was clear she was a Death Eater.”
Harry slammed the photo with his fist in anger. “That means that the delay at Godric’s Hollow wasn’t an accident,” he figured raging. “Word probably got to him that a move was being made on me, and was told to stay alert.”
“That is more than likely,” Lupin agreed.
“And he knows that Scrimgeour has me under his thumb,” Harry said. “And if Dempsher knows, then by now so does Voldemort. “
“We figured that,” Lupin said. Harry had filled in the Council about his predicament following the rescue the previous month. “And he may somehow use that against you. Also, we think that Dempsher provided the Death Eaters with the security detail with the Mallings family. That’s how Draker was able to Imperius Bethany’s colleague.”
And idea clicked in Harry’s head. “Maybe he won’t,” he declared. All heads turned to him. “Listen to me, Barnabus Cuffe said that he would run any article I wanted the Prophet. If we expose Dempsher, Scrimgeour won’t have time to retaliate against me if I retract my support for the Ministry.”
“That’s brilliant,” Hermione put in. “We’d be killing two birds with one stone.”
“We can’t do that,” McGonagall said. Harry’s mood deflated.
“Why not?” Harry barked angrily. He’s been waiting over a month for an opportunity like this to arrive. He’d be free of the Ministry’s hold.
“Because,” Moody growled, “Dempsher is a very important source of information for the Death Eaters, so his exposure would cause a massive instigation in their ranks. We could no longer being able to exploit the breaches in their security we’ve found. In the long run, it would do more harm for our side than good.”
“So we just let Dempsher walk?” Harry asked, livid. “We can’t just sit and do nothing!”
Podmore smirked. “Why would we have called in you two if we were planning on doing nothing?” Harry shut his mouth.
“We heard,” Lupin continued, “that Henry Dempsher shall be taking a trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow. Bethany helped us confirm it by sneaking into his office, and taking a look at his day planner. It said that he was going out with his wife, but we already know that she has been sick in bed for the past week. We were going to ask Fred and George to keep an eye on him, but they are preparing for a rush, so it wouldn’t be fair to them.”
“That is where you two come in,” McGonagall took over. “We want the both of you to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow, and follow him. The two of you will be posing as a young couple on a date since it is Valentine’s Day. According to the Weasley twins, Diagon Alley was packed the previous year despite the danger that You-Know-Who possesses, so it should be no different this year.”
“What?” Hermione objected, standing up. “But I can’t. I have plans!” Harry just sat there frozen. He was against this just as much as she was, but for far different reasons.
McGonagall cocked an eyebrow. “So cancel them, Ms. Granger. If Dempsher meets with a Death Eater in a secluded area, you must overhear what they are saying.”
“Can’t Hermione go with Ron?” Harry asked, trying not to sound too pleading. “At least he’ll be less conspicuous than I am. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb because of who I am!”
“Which is why you’ll be in disguise,” Podmore interjected. “Trenton, you can come in now.”
“Finally,” Trenton Perch said, coming through the door. “I was getting sick of waiting.” He then stood in front of Harry and Hermione, took a blinding picture, and left the room. “I’ll have them ready by tomorrow, Sturgis.” He then left.
“Trenton is only second to Tonks in magical concealment,” Lupin explained.
“Even so, Ron can still go instead of me,” Harry went on. Even though it was a mission, they still had to act like he and Hermione were going out.
“We would prefer that our participants weren’t distracted, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said.
“Distracted?” Hermione asked, looking a little insulted. “Why on earth would I be distracted by Ron?”
Harry didn’t answer her. Instead, he said, “Why can’t I use my Invisibility Cloak?”
“The problem with those, Mr. Potter, is that you’ll still be solid in a crowded alley. Something visible and solid is much less conspicuous.”
“Be here by four tomorrow afternoon,” Moody said, dismissing them with a wave.
“How long will it take?” Hermione asked desperately.
“As long as it has to, Ms. Granger,” McGonagall responded, getting up to leave. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to back to the school, and prevent Hagrid from turning the Great Hall into a home for his brother.”
Harry groaned, and slammed his forehead against the table. He’d much rather feel awkward due to being present for one of Ron and Hermione’s moments.
Harry Potter and the Secret Spell by Phoenix 86
Chapter Notes: For those that might not have caught it, I forgot to mention that Barnabus Cuffe is not an OC, but rather was mentioned in HPB. I just personified him for my own purposes.