Chapter 61: Going Undercover
Starfox5
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Chapter 61: Going Undercover
Cumberland County, Parkinson Manor, January 29th, 1999
Pansy Parkinson was sitting in her room. She wasn't sulking - proper witches didn't sulk. She was merely making a statement to her parents by retiring to her room. Namely, that answering the door was beneath her dignity. That's what they had a house-elf for! Remembering how her father had ordered her to walk to the gate and let those Ministry flunkies bothering their betters through the wardline made her clench her teeth. Why couldn't those stupid people have arrived through the Floo Network, like civilised wizards and witches?
She sniffed. That they were from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures didn't excuse them; Pansy's family was heavily invested in the trade of magical creatures, yet she shouldn't have to walk up to the manor's gate like some muggle! A witch of good breeding had standards to maintain! At least no one of importance had seen her acting like a house-elf. If Draco had been there, she would have died of embarrassment!
She sighed at her plight and went back to her letter. With that undesirable finally being caught and executed, as he deserved, Draco was, at last, allowed outside again by his mum. They could go and visit Diagon Alley instead of staying in his or her manor! With the Bulstrode, Davis and Greengrass families ruined, Pansy and Draco's circle of friends had drastically shrunk over the last few months.
Not that she minded being alone with Draco, of course! There were quite significant advantages to that. But part of the duty of a prominent member of an Old Family was to be seen in public - to be an example of class and poise for their lessers. Not that those unfortunates would ever manage to equal her, but even a doomed effort would improve their manners.
She chewed on her quill as she pondered how to word her desire to visit Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. It was, without a doubt, the best location in Britain to eat ice cream. Nothing could compare to their creations. But, as she had recently discovered, it was also a business run by a mudblood - not a distant relative of the old pureblood Fortescue family, as many had thought. Which presented her with a dilemma. She was not about to subject her refined palate to lesser ice cream than the very best available - that would be beneath her dignity; like wearing robes from that tailor in Hogsmeade, instead of from Madam Malkin's. But to frequent a business run by a mudblood?
She pressed her lips together. That was also beneath her dignity. And people might think she approved of the business. But she really liked the Fire's Touch Coup that the man made. That melange of spicy and sweet, hot and icy cold... She closed her eyes and sighed.
On the other hand, hadn't father told her - repeatedly, if she cared to remember, which she didn't - that she should make some gestures to show that the family didn't support the Dark Lord's ideals? Draco had complained about his father telling him something similar, although he hadn't had to actually do anything after that Death Eater had started murdering people.
She nodded. Yes, that was the right way to word this - a sacrifice for their families. She smiled as she finished the letter. Sometimes the duty of a pureblood witch of an Old Family was a heavy burden. But also, in this case, a sweet and spicy one.
She cast a quick charm to dry the ink, rolled up and sealed the scroll, then raised her wand to ring the bell behind the curtain in her room, which would signal Floppy that she had a letter to send, when, suddenly, Floppy burst into her room without having been called.
"Mistress Pansy! Mistress Pansy! There be an emergency!" he squeaked.
Pansy felt as if her heart stopped beating for a moment. "What? What happened?" Crouch was dead, so… Merlin's beard! The Night Nargles!
"Your father, Mistress Pansy! The Sphinx attacked him and the visitors! He be hurt!"
"What?" The Sphinx, attacking her father? That was inconceivable. Sphinxes only attacked if you tried to pass them without solving their riddle. Father would never make such a mistake! And he was hurt? "Where is Mum?"
"Mistress Marissa left a while ago."
Mum had said she was going to visit an acquaintance, but Pansy hadn't paid attention. And now she was the witch in the house during an emergency.
"The visitors insist that you come. They say there be an illegal animal."
Pansy felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The Anatolian Fire Drake! But how had those bothersome bureaucrats discovered it? "What happened to it?" she snapped as she rose and rushed out of her room - a witch was supposed to never run, but her father was hurt!
"They say the Sphinx released and killed it," Floppy gasped as he ran after her as fast as his short legs could carry him.
She blinked. That still didn't make any sense. Sphinxes wouldn't damage the treasure they guarded - everyone knew that. Unless… Had father worded the contract in a way that wouldn't cover other creatures? She didn't remember, not having paid much attention to his explanations. Though she knew that a Cryosphinx would hate to guard a Fire Drake. But to go as far as to reveal it to their visitors…
She scoffed as she took the stairs down to the entrance hall. Of course, the beast would dare - Pansy had learned at a young age that magical beasts and creatures needed a firm hand and a ready wand or they would turn on you. Still, her father was the most experienced wizard in Britain when it came to magical creatures, far above that barbarian simpleton at Hogwarts, and to make a mistake like this…
But there were more urgent things to worry about. "Is the Sphinx dead?" She didn't want to run into a rampaging Sphinx.
"I don't know, but it wasn't moving, Mistress."
Dead or under control, then. Good.
She smelled the smoke before she entered the - still open, but warded - staircase leading to their vault. So the drake had indeed escaped. But her father hadn't made a mistake - those idiots from the Ministry must have bungled things up - hadn't they mentioned there was something wrong with the contract? And if they had mentioned it in front of the Cryosphinx…
She would teach those idiots to cause such an incident in her home! And Father would ruin them!
But he was hurt. She ran down the stairs. There he was - on the ground. Unconscious, but she couldn't see any blood…
"The Sphinx turned on him and knocked him out!" The stupid witch blurted out before Pansy reached her father.
"Be quiet!" Pansy snapped as she ran her wand over his chest - every Parkinson learned to treat wounds from creatures. But there were no wounds - no bleeding. No frostbite either. And his head was fine as well. But he was unconscious, as if he were stunned. But Cryosphinxes couldn't cast spells…
"Mistress!"
She looked up in time to see the Stunner hit her in the chest as Floppy slumped down at the bottom of the stairs.
Pansy Parkinson woke with a gasp. Her father! The Stunner! What had happened? She looked around as she reached for her wand… where was it?
Then she realised where she was. In her family's vault. Next to her still unconscious father and an equally unconscious Floppy. And a Sphinx! She jerked - but the Sphinx was trapped in stone, as she could see in the dim light… dim light? There was a glass with Brazilian Everlit Fireflies in the middle of the room, but there should be enchanted crystals providing light stuck to the walls...
They were gone. As, she realised with rapidly growing horror, were the contents of their vault. And her wand. And her jewellery. She started to cry as she realised what had happened.
The Night Nargles had ruined her life!
London, Ministry of Magic, January 29th, 1999
"Another heist? While we were guarding Gringotts?" Harry Potter clenched his teeth. He and Ron had just - finally - finished their shift there and now this!
"In the middle of the afternoon, too," Nott said. "Stunned Mr Parkinson and Pansy and then robbed the manor. Pansy woke up in the evening and alerted us." He sighed. "Poor Bathilda was about to head to dinner with me, and now she'll be stuck there for hours."
"You sound as if you care more about her than the Parkinsons." Ron voiced what Harry was thinking.
"Of course I do." Nott looked at them as if it were obvious. They must have failed to hide their surprise since he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Bathilda is a friend. Pansy's just a fellow Slytherin."
Harry held back from commenting that they had seemed quite close during their time at Hogwarts. Although all Slytherins had appeared to be close to each other, in his opinion.
"No Old Family solidarity?" Ron asked.
Nott scoffed. "Pansy cut off contact with Millicent, Tracey and Daphne as soon as their manors were robbed. She won't get any solidarity from me." He smirked. "I should start a betting pool how long it takes Draco to break up with her - and if he waits until he has found a better prospect or not."
That sounded very vindictive to Harry. On the other hand, it was Parkinson. She was simply reaping what she had sowed.
"This will weaken Malfoy's allies, though," Ron commented again.
The other Auror shrugged. "Parkinson will keep his seat until his death, so Malfoy will still have his vote." He grinned. "In the short term, it'll even make it easier for Malfoy to control his allies. Parkinson will have to go along with everything."
"They still have their business and other assets," Harry pointed out. "And I doubt that they kept all their gold in their vault."
Nott shrugged again. "Even if they saved part of their gold, the loss of face is too great. Your vault and manor robbed while you were there?" He shook his head. "They'll be the laughing stock of the Old Families."
Sirius's description of the Wizengamot as a school of sharks ready to turn on each other as soon as they smelled blood was really quite accurate.
"Aren't you rushing there to help?" Nott asked.
Harry glanced at Ron. "Unless we missed the memo, Dawlish hasn't requested our help."
Nott sighed. "Stupid fool. This is his last chance. Does he really think he can catch the thieves by himself?"
The question was whether Dawlish wanted to catch the thieves at all, in Harry's opinion. And if he did, if he was so delusional that he thought he could arrest them without their help. Which probably was the case - it certainly was a common attitude in the Corps.
"Well, we're going home - no point in waiting for a call to the scene that won't come," Ron said.
Which meant, Harry knew, that Ron had a rendezvous with Luna in Hogsmeade or at Hogwarts. And Hermione would be returning from France - there was no way Sirius would be staying there, not when another manor had just been robbed. He just hoped that his girlfriend wouldn't be kept too busy helping his godfather with his political machinations.
Although he had to call them first to inform them of the latest heist. And with Dawlish around, it would be better if he did that from home.
Argelès-sur-Mer, Pyrenées Orientales, France, January 29th, 1999
"Stop fidgeting, Hermione. You'll be able to sort through the loot soon enough."
Hermione Granger glared at the dog. It would be at least another day, probably three days if Harry wasn't called in to work over the weekend, until she could properly sort through their loot from Parkinson Manor!
"Mr Fletcher's checking for traps and curses already," Jeanne added, sitting in her chair at the fireplace, one hand resting on her stomach as she held a book - about child-rearing - with the other. Hermione's friend wasn't yet 'nesting', not really, but she was certainly getting there. Not that Hermione would ever fault anyone for reading a book, of course.
Which reminded her that an entire library was waiting for her to sort through! She clenched her teeth. She could almost hear all those books crying out to her, to come and read them. Or, at least, organise them properly - the Parkinsons had merely stuffed their library shelves with their books, without even a hint of a system, from what Hermione could tell when she had looted their library. Which was focused on Magical Creatures, too - a subject Hermione's own library didn't cover in detail yet. If she had had access to those books, she wouldn't have failed her N.E.W.T. exam and only gotten an Acceptable!
"Besides, Harry hasn't called us yet about the heist," the dog added. "It wouldn't help our alibi if we cut our trip short without official knowledge."
"He might have been called to the manor before he could inform us," Hermione said. Which would mean they would be stuck in France for even longer than she had thought! Perhaps they should have taken the loot with them when they left Britain after the heist… She sighed. "Parkinson should have woken up an hour ago! We didn't stun her that hard." Unlike her father - but that idiot deserved it for almost getting all of them, including himself, killed by that dragon! On the other hand, the witch was rather vacuous. Perhaps she would take far longer than usual to recover her wits? Hermione didn't think anyone ever did a study comparing intelligence to the average recovery time after getting stunned. Perhaps…
Her mirror vibrated. Harry!
She quickly picked the mirror up and activated it. "Yes?"
"Hermione?" He smiled at her. And from what she could tell, he was in their living room at Grimmauld Place. So he wouldn't have to spend the entire evening investigating Parkinson Manor!
"Hi, Harry!" She beamed at him.
He smiled as well, then grew serious. "I hate to interrupt your trip, but the Night Nargles struck again."
Hermione had to suppress her annoyance at that stupid name again as she faked her surprise at the news.
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, January 29th, 1999
"...and we had to blast them with Water-Making Spells from one end of the Alley to the other until they finally had enough and left - soaking wet. Some even lost their wands in the whole mess." Harry Potter shook his head. "They really thought that they could storm Gringotts and take their gold." Even though not a single one of them had managed to cast a simple Shield Charm during the confrontation.
"Well, such arrogance isn't exactly uncommon among wizards," Hermione said as she leaned forward and took another slice of the treacle tart Kreacher had made as dessert for their late dinner.
"It's very common among Slytherins," Sirius cut in.
"Really?" Jeanne cocked her head. "I would have thought reckless acts were typical for Gryffindors. At least that's what I took from your stories, dear." Harry tried not to look as she added mustard to her slice of the tart. If pregnancy did that to your taste buds, he was certainly glad he was a man.
Sirius coughed. "Gryffindors are brave, not stupid."
"Though, sometimes, it's hard to tell the difference," Hermione said, smiling sweetly at Harry's godfather.
"Well, some simple minds might have trouble with that, I agree," Sirius replied with a very toothy smile at Hermione.
"Oh, really? Well, perhaps..."
Harry put his hand on Hermione's thigh and interrupted her. "Let's not start a row, please. I already had to stop a riot at work." He smiled at her to take the sting out of his words, but she still blushed.
"Sorry."
Harry glanced at his godfather. Then glared at him. Then Jeanne flicked her wand, and Sirius yelped.
"Sorry," Sirius finally said with a pout. "So, you're now on guard duty?"
Harry shrugged. "There wasn't anyone else to take that assignment. Shacklebolt is busy with various tasks, Tonks is on undercover missions all the time and Dawlish…" He shrugged.
"...is straining his small brain trying to catch the Night Nargles," Sirius said.
Hermione glared at his godfather, Harry noticed, before turning to him. "Are you certain that the people trying to rush Gringotts weren't under a spell?"
"We checked," Harry said. "After arresting the most aggressive of the lot."
"And the most stupid," Sirius said. "Makes you worry about the country if there are so many stupid people around."
"Well, as an Auror, I tend to meet the stupid wizards and witches," Harry said.
"Why, thank you!" Hermione said in a flat voice.
Harry glared at her. "I didn't mean it like that!"
She chuckled. "Oh, you meant the other Ministry employees?"
"Well, some of them. Probably." Definitely. When she giggled, he frowned at her. "Most criminals are stupid."
"But you're not dealing with those kinds of criminals. You hunt the smart ones," Hermione said. "Crouch was a monster, but a smart one."
Harry nodded. "And the Night Nargles aren't stupid either."
Hermione sniffed at that. "Well, since they failed to pick a name of their own, I don't think they're that smart. It was obvious that if they didn't choose a name, someone would do it for them."
"I certainly hope that you're correct," Harry said. "That would make them easier to catch."
"Though they'd have to be very dumb for Dawlish to be able to arrest them," Hermione replied.
Harry couldn't disagree with that. "True. But I don't think Dawlish will be on that case for much longer."
"Oh?" Sirius perked up. "Will you and Ron take over?"
"Unless they need us to guard the goblins," Harry said. But anyone with half a brain could do guard duty. Even Hit-Wizards. And he and Ron were among the best Aurors in the Corps.
"At least you'd be safer hunting thieves than guarding those backstabbing goblins." Hermione scowled. "They are risking the ruin of a lot of businesses with their power play."
"They don't care as long as it hurts wizards," Sirius said. "They wanted Crouch. But the Wizengamot couldn't hand over a wizard to them, not even Crouch."
"Another example of arrogance and pride causing unnecessary trouble," Hermione said.
"Not exactly," Sirius said. "Even if we could hand Crouch over without offending most of the country, Crouch knew too many secrets that couldn't be allowed to fall into the hands of the goblins. For example, I don't think that he murdered his father and Millicent Bagnold without making them tell him all their secrets."
He would be wrong about Bagnold, actually - Harry had led the interrogation. But Sirius was correct about Crouch's father and his secrets. "Well, they threw him through the Veil. There's not even a body left to hand over."
"Which we wouldn't do either," Sirius said. "Never know what they could do with it."
"And yet, despite all of this, the goblins still have a monopoly on banking. Or whatever passes as banking in Wizarding Britain." Hermione scoffed. "I bet if the Old Families didn't have their own vaults in their homes and were forced to use Gringotts as well, they wouldn't let this continue."
"Of course they wouldn't," Sirius said, grinning. "But as long it's just the commoners' gold put in danger, who cares?"
Hermione huffed.
Harry agreed. That was a very egotistical stance. But common among the Old Families, as he had found out.
Before he could change the subject to something less depressing - or infuriating - Kreacher entered the room. "Master, your half-blood cousin has arrived. She demands to speak with you and Master Harry."
"Tonks?" Sirius asked - unnecessarily; he only had one 'half-blood cousin'. "Well, send her in. And get a plate for her - she will want some of that tart."
Harry pressed his lips together; he had been hoping to eat the leftovers later.
Tonks arrived less than a minute later. "Sirius! Harry!" She nodded at them, then at Jeanne and Hermione. "Jeanne. Hermione."
"Have a seat, Tonks - and a slice," Sirius said, pointing at a free chair at the table.
But Tonks didn't seem to care. She looked straight at Sirius, then Harry. "We've got trouble. Someone's trying to hire an assassin, and I think one of you is the target."
"What?" Hermione Granger blurted. Someone wanted to hire an assassin to kill Harry? Or Sirius?
"What?" Sirius mirrored her. Jeanne's reaction was cruder. And more French.
Harry took the news with more grace. "You said you think one of us might be the target. That doesn't sound like you're certain."
Tonks frowned at him. "It's not as if there's a board with open contracts or bounties in Knockturn Alley. Such things are handled very discreetly."
Sirius scoffed. "Whoever is doing this has no class. My family would have never hired assassins for their murders."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him - this wasn't the time for stupid jokes. Even if Jeanne laughed at it. "How did you uncover this?" she asked Tonks. She had been undercover in Knockturn Alley herself, after all. Infrequently, but she was no stranger to that hive of scum and villainy. And she should have broken up with Paul much sooner if she was quoting movies in her head.
Tonks hesitated a moment, Hermione noted. "Now, I've been on undercover missions a lot - it's practically all I do these days. Not that I mind, mind you - it beats guard duty."
Harry snorted. "Go on, rub your special talent in."
The Auror grinned, her mouth stretching a little - more than a little - too wide. "So I've become pretty familiar with the area and the regulars there. And since I've got several cover identities - which I need to maintain even outside missions - I have a unique perspective of things. Some people who'd never trust one of my identities chat with another."
That made sense. And it made Tonks a greater danger to any heists in Knockturn Alley than Hermione had expected. She would have to inform Mr Fletcher of this.
"And what did you notice?" Harry asked.
"Two of my undercover identities were approached by their contacts looking for skilled wands for hire. Wands that wouldn't hesitate to take on 'the most dangerous targets', as they put it."
"Well, that would certainly fit us." Sirius grinned. It seemed as if the dog were proud of that!
And Jeanne nodded in apparent agreement with both the statement and the sentiment. Hermione rolled her eyes again.
"Do you know who's behind this?" Harry asked. At least he was focusing on the important questions.
"No, I don't." Tonks shook her head. "None of my undercover identities would fit that request. But they must be offering a lot of gold if they hope to hire a skilled assassin. And some of it up front or people wouldn't risk their necks making inquiries."
"That would mean that they are a member of the Wizengamot," Sirius said.
"It makes it likely," Hermione corrected him. "But they aren't the only ones with a lot of gold to spend. If they even have that much gold; they could be planning to con the assassin."
Tonks shook her head. "I doubt it. They would need to be very dumb to attempt that - they would not only earn the enmity of the assassin, but the middlemen as well, whose reputations would be damaged."
"And if they expect to be able to handle that, they probably wouldn't need an assassin to come after us in the first place," Harry added.
Hermione frowned. It might be unlikely, but her theory wasn't impossible. She didn't think it should be dismissed so lightly. "I wasn't aware that there were assassins for hire," she said after a moment. That sounded more like something out of a movie or television show.
"Well, it's more like mercenaries who aren't too picky about their contracts," Tonks said. "I wouldn't put that past half the mercenaries I know in Knockturn Alley."
"Half?" Hermione blinked. That was…
"I don't mean hired wands willing to go after Harry or Sirius; just mercenaries willing to kill someone for gold."
"Ah." Hermione nodded.
"And how many of those do you know?" Sirius asked.
"None," Tonks said, "though there are a few I suspect would be willing to give it a shot."
"But it looks like you don't have evidence of a plot against us, just conjecture," Harry pointed out. "Did you report your suspicions to Scrimgeour?" He sounded as if he expected the answer to be 'yes'.
Tonks sighed. "Got me there. No, I came straight to you."
Harry frowned. "That's against regulations."
Hermione glared at him. Why would he care about stupid regulations if his and Sirius's lives were on the line!
"Well, technically, I don't have any evidence - I only have a suspicion." Tonks grinned. "So, I'm not required to report it."
Harry didn't look like he approved of her reasoning, but Sirius chuckled. "Good thinking!"
"And there's the matter that whoever is behind this might have moles in the Department," Tonks added.
"Whoever hired Markdotter and his gang last September to attack Ron and me also leaked our patrol route and schedule to them," Harry said, nodding.
"Wizengamot member," Sirius said.
"Or a Ministry employee," Hermione added. "Although a high-ranking one. One with influence and gold."
Sirius snorted. "If you have one, you will have the other."
"We still need to inform Scrimgeour," Harry said.
"For a mere suspicion?" Sirius shook his head. "He'll want it investigated, and that might warn whoever is behind this - they must have moles, as you said yourself."
Harry eyed him. "I take it that you have an alternative," he said, in a slightly cautious tone, Hermione noticed.
"Of course!" Sirius beamed at him. "We'll lay a trap for them!"
Hermione hissed: "A trap? With Harry as bait?" She drew her wand.
"Non!" Jeanne's reaction mirrored hers.
Sirius held up his hands, his smile slipping. "No, no… you misunderstood me. We won't use Harry - or me," he added with a smile at Jeanne, "as bait. We'll create an assassin for them to hire!"
Harry Potter frowned. Using someone else as bait to uncover who was behind an assassination plot aimed at himself felt wrong. He glanced at Hermione. Even if his girlfriend didn't seem to share that opinion. Quite the contrary.
Tonks snorted. "You want me to become an assassin willing to take on Harry or yourself."
Sirius nodded. "It's your speciality, isn't it?"
Tonks nodded. "Yes." She wrinkled her nose. "Though I usually don't play such high-profile roles. It won't be easy to manufacture a persona that fits the request out of nothing. That's usually a lot of work for the Department."
Harry Potter frowned. "Are you allowed to use your special talents privately?" This started to look like a vigilante operation. Not exactly something in which an Auror, much less two, should take part. Although both of them had been part of the Order of the Phoenix.
Tonks grinned. "Well, they can't exactly prohibit me from using a natural talent. It's not as if it's a Ministry resource."
Hermione snorted. "I'm certain a number of Ministry officials consider you a resource."
Harry didn't doubt that Scrimgeour and Bones saw Tonks's talent as a special resource - but they didn't see Aurors as resources. Both of them had been Aurors, after all. The other Ministry officials, on the other hand… He shook his head. "It'll still cause trouble if this comes out - you know what Bones thinks about vigilantes. And we can't exactly arrest whoever is behind this without revealing how we found them."
Tonks winced. "That won't be pleasant."
Sirius scoffed. "Bah. If anyone wants to make an issue out of this, I'll bury them. And the Wizengamot will back me. This is a family affair, after all, and the Ministry should know better than to meddle with that."
Hermione pouted, Harry noticed. "While I disagree in principle with family loyalty taking precedence over loyalty to the law and government, I can't, in good conscience, support the Ministry officials in this case. Or this Ministry in any case."
Tonks chuckled. "You've been listening to Sirius too much - this could have been straight out of a speech in the Wizengamot."
Hermione sniffed. "Who do you think writes his speeches?"
Tonks raised an eyebrow. "You are behind all the colourful language he uses?"
Hermione glared at Harry's godfather. "No, that's him improvising. I haven't been able to train him enough that he stops doing it," she said.
For some reason, Sirius seemed to find that really funny. Harry shook his head. "Just because we can do it and get away with it doesn't mean we should do it." His godfather started to frown, and Harry glared at him. "We're not at Hogwarts."
"And thank God for that," Tonks added.
Sirius sulked, and Hermione rolled her eyes while Jeanne giggled.
Harry sighed: "I think we should inform at least Bones, if not Scrimgeour as well. That will avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble."
Sirius scoffed. "I don't trust them to keep this quiet."
Tonks shrugged. "My undercover missions all went well and had support from the Ministry."
"But you weren't investigating a high-ranking official or a member of the Wizengamot, were you?" Hermione pointed out.
Tonks frowned at her. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone about my missions." Harry was about to nod in approval when the witch continued: "But yes, you're right. Although I generally don't know what I'll find out when I start - I'm often just gathering all kinds of information."
"Most Wizengamot members who 'ave dealings in Knockturn Alley would use middlemen, probably several of them, wouldn't they?" Jeanne asked.
"Yes," Tonks said. "At least for this sort of business."
Sirius scoffed. "I think a few of them wouldn't trust middlemen and would go themselves - probably in disguise. And some certainly visit Knockturn Alley regularly for various reasons."
Harry shook his head. "I don't think Bones or Scrimgeour will work against us. And I think we should work with them. That'll make things easier."
"And we might be able to use resources of the Ministry," Tonks added. "It's my skin we're risking, after all."
Sirius huffed. "Bones will be mad anyway, for coming to us first."
Tonks's grin widened. "Only if we tell her that."
"I like how you think!"
Harry sighed as Sirius's grin matched his cousin's. This was probably the best he was going to get.
He was about to agree when Hermione spoke up again: "We'll still have to persuade her to let us run the mission instead of the Aurors."
"You want to be on the mission as well?" Harry blurted out, then winced. Hermione was prickly when it came to what she saw as patronising behaviour.
And as expected, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Only in a planning role. I'm not a metamorphmagus or an Auror, after all." Harry's relieved smile must have been a little too obvious since she scowled. "That doesn't mean I'm helpless."
"Of course not!" he hastened to assure her. "But this is a mission best kept to Tonks, me and Ron."
Now Sirius and Jeanne were scowling at him as well. And Tonks was laughing!
If only Ron were here to back him up.
London, Ministry of Magic, January 30th, 1999
If the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were someone else, Harry Potter would assume that their rather hostile expression was because they had to work on a Saturday. But Bones wasn't a witch to fret over such things. And Tonks winced at him behind Bones's back.
"Auror Potter." She barely nodded at him. "Sit down!"
"Yes, Ma'am." Harry forced himself to behave naturally as he sat.
"You were already in the Ministry, even though you aren't on the weekend shift." Bones steepled her hands and stared at him.
"I wanted to check up on the Diagon Alley assignment," Harry said. And he had wanted to see what evidence had been gathered at the Parkinson robbery - though apart from a possible charge against Parkinson for illegally owning a dragon, Dawlish hadn't filed anything yet.
"And you had no idea that I would meet Auror Tonks today and then call you to work?" Bones leaned forward, touching the tips of her fingers to her chin.
Harry pressed his lips together. He didn't want to lie to Bones - but he didn't want to rat out Tonks either.
Bones scoffed and shook her head. And Tonks grimaced at him behind her back. Harry clenched his teeth.
"Auror Tonks was on an undercover assignment and discovered signs of an assassination plot against you, your godfather or possibly other Aurors such as Moody, Weasley or Shacklebolt," Bones said.
Harry's eyes widened. He hadn't considered others as possible targets.
"Now, while I cannot dismiss the possibility that these others are in danger, I cannot deny that you and your godfather are the most likely targets due to your fame, influence and reputation."
He nodded at that. It was true, after all.
Bones sighed and leaned back. "However, I'm not comfortable with letting you treat this as a family matter. Both of you are Aurors under my command, and I won't tolerate any vigilante actions in my department."
Harry nodded in agreement, but she didn't seem to think that he was being honest.
She snorted again. "We both know that I cannot stop your godfather - his influence is too great, and this would have been a family matter in the past. But you'll do what you can to keep him from running roughshod over our laws and regulations, or you will find out how far my influence reaches. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Harry snapped.
"Good. Now, I do know that this requires utmost secrecy. Which means other than Scrimgeour and your partner, no one else will be informed about this." She glared at him again.
This time, Harry winced. "In the Department."
Bones closed her eyes. "Who else already knows about this?"
"My godfather trusts his wife and his secretary implicitly," Harry replied.
Judging by the way her jaw muscles twitched, Bones wasn't impressed by his evasion. She turned her head and glared at Tonks, who acted as if she didn't know anything about that. Sometimes, Harry envied her for her talents.
After a moment, Bones sighed. "We will discuss this tomorrow in your home."
Harry nodded. Sirius wouldn't like it, but this was for the best.
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, January 30th, 1999
Hermione Granger wished Mr Fletcher were here in Grimmauld Place. Tonks was a good Auror, and her special talent was certainly very useful, but Mr Fletcher had decades of experience in Knockturn Alley on her. But with Moody and his cursed eye in the house, Mr Fletcher couldn't visit - and neither could they leave for a planning session in Greenwich. Not without Moody noticing, which would make Harry wonder where they were going 'despite the danger' - even though the assassin hadn't been found, much less hired yet. And Mr Fletcher had refused to appear as an 'old acquaintance' of Sirius with 'knowledge of the area' when she had briefly contacted him last night through their mirror. At least he was gathering information in the Alley.
She sighed. "I don't like this. We should be doing something." Anything other than waiting for Harry and Tonks to return from the Ministry.
"There's not much we can do," Jeanne pointed out. "We need more information."
"You know what Harry said," Sirius pointed out from where he was sitting, lowering the weekend issue of the Daily Prophet.
Hermione growled in response. Harry didn't want to do anything without clearing it with Bones first. But he didn't know what they could do. What she could do! Tonks was a metamorphmagus, but Hermione had mastered the art of disguise - and she had gone on undercover missions in Knockturn Alley before! She glared at the dog. If not for him, she would have told Harry everything long ago, and they wouldn't be in this mess.
"What did I do?" the dog faked ignorance.
She huffed in return and tried to focus again on her list of possible enemies willing to hire an assassin. Which was a little too long to be of practical use - someone had a talent for making enemies. Lots of enemies.
Hermione glared at the dog again. Who hid behind the Quidditch results. Which he already knew from listening to the wireless yesterday. When he should have been working on his next bill.
She sighed once more.
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, January 31st, 1999
"Welcome to Grimmauld Place, Madam Bones, Mr Scrimgeour." Hermione Granger felt as if her cheeks should be hurting from her forced smiles. Having Moody in the house was bad enough, but now Bones and Scrimgeour were invading her home! And she had to smile and welcome them because the dog thought that was proper. At least she didn't have to act as if she weren't simply being polite.
"Miss Granger." Bones nodded at her without any expression on her face.
Scrimgeour smiled at her, but she didn't think he meant it. Or wouldn't have bothered if she weren't Sirius's personal secretary.
"If' you'll follow me to the living room…" She gestured towards the door leading into the hallway. "The others are already waiting." Had Bones twitched at that?
Hermione's smile grew a little more genuine as she led the two guests to the back. Harry was right - Bones must hate having to work not just with, but pretty much under Sirius.
"Ah, Amelia! Rufus!" The dog waved as soon as they entered the room. "Have a seat and a drink!"
"I don't drink on duty," Bones answered. Scrimgeour glanced at her, then nodded. If the boss didn't drink, the subordinates couldn't drink either.
"There's plenty without alcohol," Sirius said. "Jeanne's got some cravings these days, and Hermione was kind enough to go to a muggle shop for some variety."
"I recommend the Diet Cola," Hermione said.
Bones didn't look as surprised as Hermione had hoped. And Scrimgeour availed himself of a normal cola with a nonchalance that clearly showed that he was familiar with muggle beverages. Well, both were experienced Aurors. Former Aurors, to be precise.
"Well, all the drinks seem safe," Ron added. "No suspiciously coloured drinks."
Fortunately, Harry entered, with Moody stuck on a floating chair, before Ron could quote another of Lovegood's - either Lovegood's - theories about magical creatures hiding among muggles.
"Alastor." Bones actually smiled.
"Auror Moody."
"B-b-bones, Sc-sc-sc-scrimgeour." Mody managed to say, shaking while his artificial eye remained steady.
"You're doing better," Bones added.
"A-a-a-w-w-w-w-wake."
Which was not much of an improvement, in Hermione's opinion. She much preferred Aurors unconscious rather than watching her through enchanted eyes. Especially if she couldn't tell if the protections against normal See-Through-Wall Spells worked on his eye or not. Well, she wore a disguise under her mask whenever she went on a heist, so it wasn't a fatal weakness. Still, it was annoying to have to keep taking precautions without knowing if they were truly necessary.
"So now that everyone is here," Sirius said as Tonks and Jeanne quickly stopped whispering to each other, "let's discuss how we're going to catch whoever is looking for an assassin for hire."
"Before they find someone who will actually come after Harry. Or Sirius," Hermione said.
"Or anyone else," Harry just had to add.
Sirius sighed. "Yes, that's what I meant. Anyway - it seems simple. Tonks can use her talents and pass as an assassin, and when she meets with her prospective employer, we snatch them up."
So simple, even a dog could come up with it. Of course, the devil, as always, was in the detail.
"That will require a good background, though," Tonks said, then flinched a little when Bones glared at her. Apparently, she didn't like her Aurors speaking up without permission.
"Creating such a background will be a challenge," Scrimgeour point out.
"Not particularly," Sirius countered. "We can claim she's a veteran from the New World."
"Every local gutter rat with pretensions of grandeur claims that they're a veteran from America," Tonks replied. "That's not exactly a good background."
Moody made noises that seemed to indicate that he agreed with her.
"It just has to be good enough," Hermione pointed out, "to fool the target. And I don't think many locals will accept this job, no matter what background they claim."
"The Ministry's resources in the New World are limited," Scrimgeour said.
"If we're going the American route, we don't need them," Sirius said.
None of the Aurors liked that. Even if it was, in Hermione's opinion, completely true. The risk was acceptable, in her opinion - she had used the same cover story twice so far, after all.
"We usually don't depend on such flimsy cover stories," Scrimgeour said.
"I like a little bit more than a story every drunk hired wand can make up," Tonks added. That was understandable, of course.
Sirius waved those objections away. "If anyone doubts you, just use a few of the family spells to take care of them and you'll have backed up your claims perfectly fine. Easy."
"We do not plan to murder people to make our undercover missions more authentic," Bones spat through clenched teeth.
"The Blacks have non-lethal but impressive curses as well, you know," Sirius said. Hermione didn't think it would be helpful to clarify that most of those spells made the victim wish they had been lethal curses.
"Neither do we plan to cripple people to enhance our cover stories," Bones added.
"We could stage an incident - but that would require extensive use of Ministry resources," Scrimgeour said. Which, given how many Ministry employee were spies for various influential people, would be a foolish idea, in Hermione's opinion.
"We could stage such an incident ourselves," Harry said. "With Polyjuice Potion and disguises."
Hermione bit her lower lip. As tempting as it was to show off her competence, she didn't think she wanted Harry to know just how experienced she was in disguising herself.
"I could help with a French background, or rather, my friends in France could," Jeanne offered.
"That's a very good idea!" Sirius beamed at her.
Tonks cleared her throat. "One problem with that. I don't speak French. Not nearly well enough to fool anyone from France. Which, given the recent recruiting spree and upcoming layoffs, will be a mite more common in Britain for a while than usual."
Hermione wanted to curse. Another fine solution, shot down because people didn't learn foreign languages in Wizarding Britain!
"I think I know how we can use the New World as Tonks's background," Ron suddenly said, smiling.
Hermione tried to remember if any Weasleys had emigrated to the Americas. Or had worked there. She couldn't recall any such case.
And then she remembered who had been to the New World. And winced.
Devon, Ottery St Catchpole, January 31st, 1999
"Is anyone else concerned by the fact that we're relying on the knowledge of a man who hunts imaginary creatures for my background?" Tonks complained.
Harry Potter frowned as Hermione voiced his thoughts. "You agreed to the plan."
"I'm having second thoughts," Tonks said, "and this isn't helping." She pointed at the rook-like building they were approaching.
"Ron assured us that Mr Lovegood can be trusted," Harry defended his best friend. "And I trust his judgement."
"As long as it doesn't concern animals," Hermione qualified the statement. "So, as long as you're not planning to go undercover as an animal, you'll be fine. And if you're planning to go as an animal, you won't need a background anyway, so you'll be fine in any case."
Hermione could be rather catty, Harry noticed as Tonks grumbled about Ron not being objective about Lovegoods while they waited to be allowed inside the wards.
But even Harry had a little doubt when he saw Mr Lovegood approaching them - wearing what looked very much like a uniform straight out of the American Civil War. The muggle one.
"There you are! Ron told me everything! Come in, come in, and we'll get this show on the road, as a good American friend of mine uses to say." He stepped through the wards and touched every one of their group with his wand. "That should do it for the wards."
But when Harry was about to walk through the wards - standing out in the open, near a location he was known to frequent often, made him a little nervous with an assassin after him - Lovegood held him back. "Wait! Wait! You still need the Voracious Mole repellant." He held up a small bottle. "Voley has been a little anxious since Luna went back to Hogwarts, and without that, he'll try to play with you, which can be a little scary for someone not used to his antics."
"Voley?" Harry heard Tonks ask.
"Voracious Mole?" Hermione sounded rather sceptical.
Mr Lovegood either missed or ignored it. "Yes, Luna's latest pet. Adorable, if a little gluttonous. I'm doing my best so he won't feel lonely, but he really prefers Luna."
Harry had never heard of such a creature. And he had received an Exceeds Expectations in his Care of Magical Creatures N.E.W.T.. But he took the bottle and sprinkled a little on his robes. He didn't smell differently, though.
Something he was very glad for when, halfway to the front door, a creature the size of a bear broke through the ground from below and tackled Mr Lovegood to the ground. Only the fact that the man was laughing as he wrestled with the creature kept Harry from cursing it in reflex.
"Down, boy, down… don't worry, I'll feed you right after our guests have settled in! You didn't eat a neighbour's cat again, did you? You know they ruin your appetite." Mr Lovegood managed to extract himself from under the creature - which did look remarkably like a giant, bear-sized vole. With very large claws and jaws - and brushed himself off. "Luna's been trying to teach him not to eat pets, but he's from Africa, and cats of all kinds are part of his natural diet."
Hermione took another dose of the repellent, Harry noticed. It was understandable - even he was a little unnerved by the creature's size, no matter how often Mr Lovegood claimed that the animal had never hurt a person after they adopted it. If Mr Lovegood didn't have to close a few 'scratches' after 'playing' before the blood stained his robes, it would have sounded a little more convincing.
The Lovegoods were crazy. Mad. Bonkers. A public menace.
Hermione Granger pressed her lips together, only half-listening to Mr Lovegood's attempts to teach Tonks a 'proper American accent'. She had to pay attention to the door, which didn't look nearly sturdy enough to keep that giant, cat-eating monstrosity out. And on the ground, of course - the creature could burrow rapidly through soil and only took a little longer to go through rocks. Or so Mr Lovegood claimed.
She couldn't fathom why anyone would want to keep such an abomination as a pet. It was a crime against nature. Cats being its natural diet? Hermione shuddered.
"Are you cold?"
She forced herself to smile at Harry. He meant well, but he couldn't help her. "I'm still a little shaken," she said.
"Ah." He smiled. "Those Voracious Voles are pretty impressive. I didn't know such creatures existed."
She strained to smile at him. "The knowledge about African magical creatures is, unfortunately, still very limited." Mostly because the Sub-Saharan wizarding countries had been wiped out in the 19th century by the ICW's response to their refusal to stop using magic against muggle colonialists, and their knowledge about Magical Africa's creatures had been destroyed with them. To think that part of the Black Family library had been bought with loot from that 'intervention'...
"Well, at least it has proven to Tonks that Mr Lovegood knows what he's doing." Harry smiled.
Or Tonks had been as shocked as Hermione herself but hadn't yet recovered. She did seem to be quieter than usual, in Hermione's opinion.
"I've found the other uniforms!" Ron announced, interrupting their talk as he floated several colourful bundles into the Lovegood's living room.
"Perfect!" their host announced. "It's traditional for mercenaries in the New World to wear parts of old uniforms. That will help you play your role."
"These uniforms seem to be at least a hundred years old," Hermione pointed out as Ron spread them out on the couch.
"Indeed, they are!" Mr Lovegood beamed at her. "But if anyone wore a uniform which is currently in use by a Wizarding Enclave, they would risk being mistaken for a soldier of that enclave."
"And that could be fatal, given the local situation," Ron added. "Too many wars to keep count."
That was hyperbole, Hermione knew - she had studied the New World for her own roles. Though, apparently, not enough to have learned this particular tradition. Although she hadn't been trying to pass as a mercenary, of course.
But this would be useful knowledge should she ever need to.
She watched - without losing track of the door's state, of course - as Tonks was given an outfit made from several wildly different uniforms. It looked like an eyesore, but that, too, was a tradition, or so Mr Lovegood maintained. Well, it would explain Dumbledore's fashion choices, she thought - he had had an American mother.
"It must have really galled Bones that this is, to all intents and purposes, a mission run by civilians," she remarked, leaning against Harry.
"It's an Auror mission," he corrected her. "Tonks, Ron and I will be running it."
"With help from Sirius, Jeanne, me and Mr Lovegood," she replied. "We outnumber you."
"You won't be in the field."
So you think, she thought. There was no way she'd let Harry risk his life alone if she could help it. And if she could help him, too, then so much the better.
Cumberland County, Parkinson Manor, January 29th, 1999
Pansy Parkinson was sitting in her room. She wasn't sulking - proper witches didn't sulk. She was merely making a statement to her parents by retiring to her room. Namely, that answering the door was beneath her dignity. That's what they had a house-elf for! Remembering how her father had ordered her to walk to the gate and let those Ministry flunkies bothering their betters through the wardline made her clench her teeth. Why couldn't those stupid people have arrived through the Floo Network, like civilised wizards and witches?
She sniffed. That they were from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures didn't excuse them; Pansy's family was heavily invested in the trade of magical creatures, yet she shouldn't have to walk up to the manor's gate like some muggle! A witch of good breeding had standards to maintain! At least no one of importance had seen her acting like a house-elf. If Draco had been there, she would have died of embarrassment!
She sighed at her plight and went back to her letter. With that undesirable finally being caught and executed, as he deserved, Draco was, at last, allowed outside again by his mum. They could go and visit Diagon Alley instead of staying in his or her manor! With the Bulstrode, Davis and Greengrass families ruined, Pansy and Draco's circle of friends had drastically shrunk over the last few months.
Not that she minded being alone with Draco, of course! There were quite significant advantages to that. But part of the duty of a prominent member of an Old Family was to be seen in public - to be an example of class and poise for their lessers. Not that those unfortunates would ever manage to equal her, but even a doomed effort would improve their manners.
She chewed on her quill as she pondered how to word her desire to visit Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. It was, without a doubt, the best location in Britain to eat ice cream. Nothing could compare to their creations. But, as she had recently discovered, it was also a business run by a mudblood - not a distant relative of the old pureblood Fortescue family, as many had thought. Which presented her with a dilemma. She was not about to subject her refined palate to lesser ice cream than the very best available - that would be beneath her dignity; like wearing robes from that tailor in Hogsmeade, instead of from Madam Malkin's. But to frequent a business run by a mudblood?
She pressed her lips together. That was also beneath her dignity. And people might think she approved of the business. But she really liked the Fire's Touch Coup that the man made. That melange of spicy and sweet, hot and icy cold... She closed her eyes and sighed.
On the other hand, hadn't father told her - repeatedly, if she cared to remember, which she didn't - that she should make some gestures to show that the family didn't support the Dark Lord's ideals? Draco had complained about his father telling him something similar, although he hadn't had to actually do anything after that Death Eater had started murdering people.
She nodded. Yes, that was the right way to word this - a sacrifice for their families. She smiled as she finished the letter. Sometimes the duty of a pureblood witch of an Old Family was a heavy burden. But also, in this case, a sweet and spicy one.
She cast a quick charm to dry the ink, rolled up and sealed the scroll, then raised her wand to ring the bell behind the curtain in her room, which would signal Floppy that she had a letter to send, when, suddenly, Floppy burst into her room without having been called.
"Mistress Pansy! Mistress Pansy! There be an emergency!" he squeaked.
Pansy felt as if her heart stopped beating for a moment. "What? What happened?" Crouch was dead, so… Merlin's beard! The Night Nargles!
"Your father, Mistress Pansy! The Sphinx attacked him and the visitors! He be hurt!"
"What?" The Sphinx, attacking her father? That was inconceivable. Sphinxes only attacked if you tried to pass them without solving their riddle. Father would never make such a mistake! And he was hurt? "Where is Mum?"
"Mistress Marissa left a while ago."
Mum had said she was going to visit an acquaintance, but Pansy hadn't paid attention. And now she was the witch in the house during an emergency.
"The visitors insist that you come. They say there be an illegal animal."
Pansy felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The Anatolian Fire Drake! But how had those bothersome bureaucrats discovered it? "What happened to it?" she snapped as she rose and rushed out of her room - a witch was supposed to never run, but her father was hurt!
"They say the Sphinx released and killed it," Floppy gasped as he ran after her as fast as his short legs could carry him.
She blinked. That still didn't make any sense. Sphinxes wouldn't damage the treasure they guarded - everyone knew that. Unless… Had father worded the contract in a way that wouldn't cover other creatures? She didn't remember, not having paid much attention to his explanations. Though she knew that a Cryosphinx would hate to guard a Fire Drake. But to go as far as to reveal it to their visitors…
She scoffed as she took the stairs down to the entrance hall. Of course, the beast would dare - Pansy had learned at a young age that magical beasts and creatures needed a firm hand and a ready wand or they would turn on you. Still, her father was the most experienced wizard in Britain when it came to magical creatures, far above that barbarian simpleton at Hogwarts, and to make a mistake like this…
But there were more urgent things to worry about. "Is the Sphinx dead?" She didn't want to run into a rampaging Sphinx.
"I don't know, but it wasn't moving, Mistress."
Dead or under control, then. Good.
She smelled the smoke before she entered the - still open, but warded - staircase leading to their vault. So the drake had indeed escaped. But her father hadn't made a mistake - those idiots from the Ministry must have bungled things up - hadn't they mentioned there was something wrong with the contract? And if they had mentioned it in front of the Cryosphinx…
She would teach those idiots to cause such an incident in her home! And Father would ruin them!
But he was hurt. She ran down the stairs. There he was - on the ground. Unconscious, but she couldn't see any blood…
"The Sphinx turned on him and knocked him out!" The stupid witch blurted out before Pansy reached her father.
"Be quiet!" Pansy snapped as she ran her wand over his chest - every Parkinson learned to treat wounds from creatures. But there were no wounds - no bleeding. No frostbite either. And his head was fine as well. But he was unconscious, as if he were stunned. But Cryosphinxes couldn't cast spells…
"Mistress!"
She looked up in time to see the Stunner hit her in the chest as Floppy slumped down at the bottom of the stairs.
*****
Pansy Parkinson woke with a gasp. Her father! The Stunner! What had happened? She looked around as she reached for her wand… where was it?
Then she realised where she was. In her family's vault. Next to her still unconscious father and an equally unconscious Floppy. And a Sphinx! She jerked - but the Sphinx was trapped in stone, as she could see in the dim light… dim light? There was a glass with Brazilian Everlit Fireflies in the middle of the room, but there should be enchanted crystals providing light stuck to the walls...
They were gone. As, she realised with rapidly growing horror, were the contents of their vault. And her wand. And her jewellery. She started to cry as she realised what had happened.
The Night Nargles had ruined her life!
*****
London, Ministry of Magic, January 29th, 1999
"Another heist? While we were guarding Gringotts?" Harry Potter clenched his teeth. He and Ron had just - finally - finished their shift there and now this!
"In the middle of the afternoon, too," Nott said. "Stunned Mr Parkinson and Pansy and then robbed the manor. Pansy woke up in the evening and alerted us." He sighed. "Poor Bathilda was about to head to dinner with me, and now she'll be stuck there for hours."
"You sound as if you care more about her than the Parkinsons." Ron voiced what Harry was thinking.
"Of course I do." Nott looked at them as if it were obvious. They must have failed to hide their surprise since he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Bathilda is a friend. Pansy's just a fellow Slytherin."
Harry held back from commenting that they had seemed quite close during their time at Hogwarts. Although all Slytherins had appeared to be close to each other, in his opinion.
"No Old Family solidarity?" Ron asked.
Nott scoffed. "Pansy cut off contact with Millicent, Tracey and Daphne as soon as their manors were robbed. She won't get any solidarity from me." He smirked. "I should start a betting pool how long it takes Draco to break up with her - and if he waits until he has found a better prospect or not."
That sounded very vindictive to Harry. On the other hand, it was Parkinson. She was simply reaping what she had sowed.
"This will weaken Malfoy's allies, though," Ron commented again.
The other Auror shrugged. "Parkinson will keep his seat until his death, so Malfoy will still have his vote." He grinned. "In the short term, it'll even make it easier for Malfoy to control his allies. Parkinson will have to go along with everything."
"They still have their business and other assets," Harry pointed out. "And I doubt that they kept all their gold in their vault."
Nott shrugged again. "Even if they saved part of their gold, the loss of face is too great. Your vault and manor robbed while you were there?" He shook his head. "They'll be the laughing stock of the Old Families."
Sirius's description of the Wizengamot as a school of sharks ready to turn on each other as soon as they smelled blood was really quite accurate.
"Aren't you rushing there to help?" Nott asked.
Harry glanced at Ron. "Unless we missed the memo, Dawlish hasn't requested our help."
Nott sighed. "Stupid fool. This is his last chance. Does he really think he can catch the thieves by himself?"
The question was whether Dawlish wanted to catch the thieves at all, in Harry's opinion. And if he did, if he was so delusional that he thought he could arrest them without their help. Which probably was the case - it certainly was a common attitude in the Corps.
"Well, we're going home - no point in waiting for a call to the scene that won't come," Ron said.
Which meant, Harry knew, that Ron had a rendezvous with Luna in Hogsmeade or at Hogwarts. And Hermione would be returning from France - there was no way Sirius would be staying there, not when another manor had just been robbed. He just hoped that his girlfriend wouldn't be kept too busy helping his godfather with his political machinations.
Although he had to call them first to inform them of the latest heist. And with Dawlish around, it would be better if he did that from home.
*****
Argelès-sur-Mer, Pyrenées Orientales, France, January 29th, 1999
"Stop fidgeting, Hermione. You'll be able to sort through the loot soon enough."
Hermione Granger glared at the dog. It would be at least another day, probably three days if Harry wasn't called in to work over the weekend, until she could properly sort through their loot from Parkinson Manor!
"Mr Fletcher's checking for traps and curses already," Jeanne added, sitting in her chair at the fireplace, one hand resting on her stomach as she held a book - about child-rearing - with the other. Hermione's friend wasn't yet 'nesting', not really, but she was certainly getting there. Not that Hermione would ever fault anyone for reading a book, of course.
Which reminded her that an entire library was waiting for her to sort through! She clenched her teeth. She could almost hear all those books crying out to her, to come and read them. Or, at least, organise them properly - the Parkinsons had merely stuffed their library shelves with their books, without even a hint of a system, from what Hermione could tell when she had looted their library. Which was focused on Magical Creatures, too - a subject Hermione's own library didn't cover in detail yet. If she had had access to those books, she wouldn't have failed her N.E.W.T. exam and only gotten an Acceptable!
"Besides, Harry hasn't called us yet about the heist," the dog added. "It wouldn't help our alibi if we cut our trip short without official knowledge."
"He might have been called to the manor before he could inform us," Hermione said. Which would mean they would be stuck in France for even longer than she had thought! Perhaps they should have taken the loot with them when they left Britain after the heist… She sighed. "Parkinson should have woken up an hour ago! We didn't stun her that hard." Unlike her father - but that idiot deserved it for almost getting all of them, including himself, killed by that dragon! On the other hand, the witch was rather vacuous. Perhaps she would take far longer than usual to recover her wits? Hermione didn't think anyone ever did a study comparing intelligence to the average recovery time after getting stunned. Perhaps…
Her mirror vibrated. Harry!
She quickly picked the mirror up and activated it. "Yes?"
"Hermione?" He smiled at her. And from what she could tell, he was in their living room at Grimmauld Place. So he wouldn't have to spend the entire evening investigating Parkinson Manor!
"Hi, Harry!" She beamed at him.
He smiled as well, then grew serious. "I hate to interrupt your trip, but the Night Nargles struck again."
Hermione had to suppress her annoyance at that stupid name again as she faked her surprise at the news.
*****
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, January 29th, 1999
"...and we had to blast them with Water-Making Spells from one end of the Alley to the other until they finally had enough and left - soaking wet. Some even lost their wands in the whole mess." Harry Potter shook his head. "They really thought that they could storm Gringotts and take their gold." Even though not a single one of them had managed to cast a simple Shield Charm during the confrontation.
"Well, such arrogance isn't exactly uncommon among wizards," Hermione said as she leaned forward and took another slice of the treacle tart Kreacher had made as dessert for their late dinner.
"It's very common among Slytherins," Sirius cut in.
"Really?" Jeanne cocked her head. "I would have thought reckless acts were typical for Gryffindors. At least that's what I took from your stories, dear." Harry tried not to look as she added mustard to her slice of the tart. If pregnancy did that to your taste buds, he was certainly glad he was a man.
Sirius coughed. "Gryffindors are brave, not stupid."
"Though, sometimes, it's hard to tell the difference," Hermione said, smiling sweetly at Harry's godfather.
"Well, some simple minds might have trouble with that, I agree," Sirius replied with a very toothy smile at Hermione.
"Oh, really? Well, perhaps..."
Harry put his hand on Hermione's thigh and interrupted her. "Let's not start a row, please. I already had to stop a riot at work." He smiled at her to take the sting out of his words, but she still blushed.
"Sorry."
Harry glanced at his godfather. Then glared at him. Then Jeanne flicked her wand, and Sirius yelped.
"Sorry," Sirius finally said with a pout. "So, you're now on guard duty?"
Harry shrugged. "There wasn't anyone else to take that assignment. Shacklebolt is busy with various tasks, Tonks is on undercover missions all the time and Dawlish…" He shrugged.
"...is straining his small brain trying to catch the Night Nargles," Sirius said.
Hermione glared at his godfather, Harry noticed, before turning to him. "Are you certain that the people trying to rush Gringotts weren't under a spell?"
"We checked," Harry said. "After arresting the most aggressive of the lot."
"And the most stupid," Sirius said. "Makes you worry about the country if there are so many stupid people around."
"Well, as an Auror, I tend to meet the stupid wizards and witches," Harry said.
"Why, thank you!" Hermione said in a flat voice.
Harry glared at her. "I didn't mean it like that!"
She chuckled. "Oh, you meant the other Ministry employees?"
"Well, some of them. Probably." Definitely. When she giggled, he frowned at her. "Most criminals are stupid."
"But you're not dealing with those kinds of criminals. You hunt the smart ones," Hermione said. "Crouch was a monster, but a smart one."
Harry nodded. "And the Night Nargles aren't stupid either."
Hermione sniffed at that. "Well, since they failed to pick a name of their own, I don't think they're that smart. It was obvious that if they didn't choose a name, someone would do it for them."
"I certainly hope that you're correct," Harry said. "That would make them easier to catch."
"Though they'd have to be very dumb for Dawlish to be able to arrest them," Hermione replied.
Harry couldn't disagree with that. "True. But I don't think Dawlish will be on that case for much longer."
"Oh?" Sirius perked up. "Will you and Ron take over?"
"Unless they need us to guard the goblins," Harry said. But anyone with half a brain could do guard duty. Even Hit-Wizards. And he and Ron were among the best Aurors in the Corps.
"At least you'd be safer hunting thieves than guarding those backstabbing goblins." Hermione scowled. "They are risking the ruin of a lot of businesses with their power play."
"They don't care as long as it hurts wizards," Sirius said. "They wanted Crouch. But the Wizengamot couldn't hand over a wizard to them, not even Crouch."
"Another example of arrogance and pride causing unnecessary trouble," Hermione said.
"Not exactly," Sirius said. "Even if we could hand Crouch over without offending most of the country, Crouch knew too many secrets that couldn't be allowed to fall into the hands of the goblins. For example, I don't think that he murdered his father and Millicent Bagnold without making them tell him all their secrets."
He would be wrong about Bagnold, actually - Harry had led the interrogation. But Sirius was correct about Crouch's father and his secrets. "Well, they threw him through the Veil. There's not even a body left to hand over."
"Which we wouldn't do either," Sirius said. "Never know what they could do with it."
"And yet, despite all of this, the goblins still have a monopoly on banking. Or whatever passes as banking in Wizarding Britain." Hermione scoffed. "I bet if the Old Families didn't have their own vaults in their homes and were forced to use Gringotts as well, they wouldn't let this continue."
"Of course they wouldn't," Sirius said, grinning. "But as long it's just the commoners' gold put in danger, who cares?"
Hermione huffed.
Harry agreed. That was a very egotistical stance. But common among the Old Families, as he had found out.
Before he could change the subject to something less depressing - or infuriating - Kreacher entered the room. "Master, your half-blood cousin has arrived. She demands to speak with you and Master Harry."
"Tonks?" Sirius asked - unnecessarily; he only had one 'half-blood cousin'. "Well, send her in. And get a plate for her - she will want some of that tart."
Harry pressed his lips together; he had been hoping to eat the leftovers later.
Tonks arrived less than a minute later. "Sirius! Harry!" She nodded at them, then at Jeanne and Hermione. "Jeanne. Hermione."
"Have a seat, Tonks - and a slice," Sirius said, pointing at a free chair at the table.
But Tonks didn't seem to care. She looked straight at Sirius, then Harry. "We've got trouble. Someone's trying to hire an assassin, and I think one of you is the target."
*****
"What?" Hermione Granger blurted. Someone wanted to hire an assassin to kill Harry? Or Sirius?
"What?" Sirius mirrored her. Jeanne's reaction was cruder. And more French.
Harry took the news with more grace. "You said you think one of us might be the target. That doesn't sound like you're certain."
Tonks frowned at him. "It's not as if there's a board with open contracts or bounties in Knockturn Alley. Such things are handled very discreetly."
Sirius scoffed. "Whoever is doing this has no class. My family would have never hired assassins for their murders."
Hermione rolled her eyes at him - this wasn't the time for stupid jokes. Even if Jeanne laughed at it. "How did you uncover this?" she asked Tonks. She had been undercover in Knockturn Alley herself, after all. Infrequently, but she was no stranger to that hive of scum and villainy. And she should have broken up with Paul much sooner if she was quoting movies in her head.
Tonks hesitated a moment, Hermione noted. "Now, I've been on undercover missions a lot - it's practically all I do these days. Not that I mind, mind you - it beats guard duty."
Harry snorted. "Go on, rub your special talent in."
The Auror grinned, her mouth stretching a little - more than a little - too wide. "So I've become pretty familiar with the area and the regulars there. And since I've got several cover identities - which I need to maintain even outside missions - I have a unique perspective of things. Some people who'd never trust one of my identities chat with another."
That made sense. And it made Tonks a greater danger to any heists in Knockturn Alley than Hermione had expected. She would have to inform Mr Fletcher of this.
"And what did you notice?" Harry asked.
"Two of my undercover identities were approached by their contacts looking for skilled wands for hire. Wands that wouldn't hesitate to take on 'the most dangerous targets', as they put it."
"Well, that would certainly fit us." Sirius grinned. It seemed as if the dog were proud of that!
And Jeanne nodded in apparent agreement with both the statement and the sentiment. Hermione rolled her eyes again.
"Do you know who's behind this?" Harry asked. At least he was focusing on the important questions.
"No, I don't." Tonks shook her head. "None of my undercover identities would fit that request. But they must be offering a lot of gold if they hope to hire a skilled assassin. And some of it up front or people wouldn't risk their necks making inquiries."
"That would mean that they are a member of the Wizengamot," Sirius said.
"It makes it likely," Hermione corrected him. "But they aren't the only ones with a lot of gold to spend. If they even have that much gold; they could be planning to con the assassin."
Tonks shook her head. "I doubt it. They would need to be very dumb to attempt that - they would not only earn the enmity of the assassin, but the middlemen as well, whose reputations would be damaged."
"And if they expect to be able to handle that, they probably wouldn't need an assassin to come after us in the first place," Harry added.
Hermione frowned. It might be unlikely, but her theory wasn't impossible. She didn't think it should be dismissed so lightly. "I wasn't aware that there were assassins for hire," she said after a moment. That sounded more like something out of a movie or television show.
"Well, it's more like mercenaries who aren't too picky about their contracts," Tonks said. "I wouldn't put that past half the mercenaries I know in Knockturn Alley."
"Half?" Hermione blinked. That was…
"I don't mean hired wands willing to go after Harry or Sirius; just mercenaries willing to kill someone for gold."
"Ah." Hermione nodded.
"And how many of those do you know?" Sirius asked.
"None," Tonks said, "though there are a few I suspect would be willing to give it a shot."
"But it looks like you don't have evidence of a plot against us, just conjecture," Harry pointed out. "Did you report your suspicions to Scrimgeour?" He sounded as if he expected the answer to be 'yes'.
Tonks sighed. "Got me there. No, I came straight to you."
Harry frowned. "That's against regulations."
Hermione glared at him. Why would he care about stupid regulations if his and Sirius's lives were on the line!
"Well, technically, I don't have any evidence - I only have a suspicion." Tonks grinned. "So, I'm not required to report it."
Harry didn't look like he approved of her reasoning, but Sirius chuckled. "Good thinking!"
"And there's the matter that whoever is behind this might have moles in the Department," Tonks added.
"Whoever hired Markdotter and his gang last September to attack Ron and me also leaked our patrol route and schedule to them," Harry said, nodding.
"Wizengamot member," Sirius said.
"Or a Ministry employee," Hermione added. "Although a high-ranking one. One with influence and gold."
Sirius snorted. "If you have one, you will have the other."
"We still need to inform Scrimgeour," Harry said.
"For a mere suspicion?" Sirius shook his head. "He'll want it investigated, and that might warn whoever is behind this - they must have moles, as you said yourself."
Harry eyed him. "I take it that you have an alternative," he said, in a slightly cautious tone, Hermione noticed.
"Of course!" Sirius beamed at him. "We'll lay a trap for them!"
Hermione hissed: "A trap? With Harry as bait?" She drew her wand.
"Non!" Jeanne's reaction mirrored hers.
Sirius held up his hands, his smile slipping. "No, no… you misunderstood me. We won't use Harry - or me," he added with a smile at Jeanne, "as bait. We'll create an assassin for them to hire!"
*****
Harry Potter frowned. Using someone else as bait to uncover who was behind an assassination plot aimed at himself felt wrong. He glanced at Hermione. Even if his girlfriend didn't seem to share that opinion. Quite the contrary.
Tonks snorted. "You want me to become an assassin willing to take on Harry or yourself."
Sirius nodded. "It's your speciality, isn't it?"
Tonks nodded. "Yes." She wrinkled her nose. "Though I usually don't play such high-profile roles. It won't be easy to manufacture a persona that fits the request out of nothing. That's usually a lot of work for the Department."
Harry Potter frowned. "Are you allowed to use your special talents privately?" This started to look like a vigilante operation. Not exactly something in which an Auror, much less two, should take part. Although both of them had been part of the Order of the Phoenix.
Tonks grinned. "Well, they can't exactly prohibit me from using a natural talent. It's not as if it's a Ministry resource."
Hermione snorted. "I'm certain a number of Ministry officials consider you a resource."
Harry didn't doubt that Scrimgeour and Bones saw Tonks's talent as a special resource - but they didn't see Aurors as resources. Both of them had been Aurors, after all. The other Ministry officials, on the other hand… He shook his head. "It'll still cause trouble if this comes out - you know what Bones thinks about vigilantes. And we can't exactly arrest whoever is behind this without revealing how we found them."
Tonks winced. "That won't be pleasant."
Sirius scoffed. "Bah. If anyone wants to make an issue out of this, I'll bury them. And the Wizengamot will back me. This is a family affair, after all, and the Ministry should know better than to meddle with that."
Hermione pouted, Harry noticed. "While I disagree in principle with family loyalty taking precedence over loyalty to the law and government, I can't, in good conscience, support the Ministry officials in this case. Or this Ministry in any case."
Tonks chuckled. "You've been listening to Sirius too much - this could have been straight out of a speech in the Wizengamot."
Hermione sniffed. "Who do you think writes his speeches?"
Tonks raised an eyebrow. "You are behind all the colourful language he uses?"
Hermione glared at Harry's godfather. "No, that's him improvising. I haven't been able to train him enough that he stops doing it," she said.
For some reason, Sirius seemed to find that really funny. Harry shook his head. "Just because we can do it and get away with it doesn't mean we should do it." His godfather started to frown, and Harry glared at him. "We're not at Hogwarts."
"And thank God for that," Tonks added.
Sirius sulked, and Hermione rolled her eyes while Jeanne giggled.
Harry sighed: "I think we should inform at least Bones, if not Scrimgeour as well. That will avoid a lot of unnecessary trouble."
Sirius scoffed. "I don't trust them to keep this quiet."
Tonks shrugged. "My undercover missions all went well and had support from the Ministry."
"But you weren't investigating a high-ranking official or a member of the Wizengamot, were you?" Hermione pointed out.
Tonks frowned at her. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone about my missions." Harry was about to nod in approval when the witch continued: "But yes, you're right. Although I generally don't know what I'll find out when I start - I'm often just gathering all kinds of information."
"Most Wizengamot members who 'ave dealings in Knockturn Alley would use middlemen, probably several of them, wouldn't they?" Jeanne asked.
"Yes," Tonks said. "At least for this sort of business."
Sirius scoffed. "I think a few of them wouldn't trust middlemen and would go themselves - probably in disguise. And some certainly visit Knockturn Alley regularly for various reasons."
Harry shook his head. "I don't think Bones or Scrimgeour will work against us. And I think we should work with them. That'll make things easier."
"And we might be able to use resources of the Ministry," Tonks added. "It's my skin we're risking, after all."
Sirius huffed. "Bones will be mad anyway, for coming to us first."
Tonks's grin widened. "Only if we tell her that."
"I like how you think!"
Harry sighed as Sirius's grin matched his cousin's. This was probably the best he was going to get.
He was about to agree when Hermione spoke up again: "We'll still have to persuade her to let us run the mission instead of the Aurors."
"You want to be on the mission as well?" Harry blurted out, then winced. Hermione was prickly when it came to what she saw as patronising behaviour.
And as expected, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Only in a planning role. I'm not a metamorphmagus or an Auror, after all." Harry's relieved smile must have been a little too obvious since she scowled. "That doesn't mean I'm helpless."
"Of course not!" he hastened to assure her. "But this is a mission best kept to Tonks, me and Ron."
Now Sirius and Jeanne were scowling at him as well. And Tonks was laughing!
If only Ron were here to back him up.
*****
London, Ministry of Magic, January 30th, 1999
If the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were someone else, Harry Potter would assume that their rather hostile expression was because they had to work on a Saturday. But Bones wasn't a witch to fret over such things. And Tonks winced at him behind Bones's back.
"Auror Potter." She barely nodded at him. "Sit down!"
"Yes, Ma'am." Harry forced himself to behave naturally as he sat.
"You were already in the Ministry, even though you aren't on the weekend shift." Bones steepled her hands and stared at him.
"I wanted to check up on the Diagon Alley assignment," Harry said. And he had wanted to see what evidence had been gathered at the Parkinson robbery - though apart from a possible charge against Parkinson for illegally owning a dragon, Dawlish hadn't filed anything yet.
"And you had no idea that I would meet Auror Tonks today and then call you to work?" Bones leaned forward, touching the tips of her fingers to her chin.
Harry pressed his lips together. He didn't want to lie to Bones - but he didn't want to rat out Tonks either.
Bones scoffed and shook her head. And Tonks grimaced at him behind her back. Harry clenched his teeth.
"Auror Tonks was on an undercover assignment and discovered signs of an assassination plot against you, your godfather or possibly other Aurors such as Moody, Weasley or Shacklebolt," Bones said.
Harry's eyes widened. He hadn't considered others as possible targets.
"Now, while I cannot dismiss the possibility that these others are in danger, I cannot deny that you and your godfather are the most likely targets due to your fame, influence and reputation."
He nodded at that. It was true, after all.
Bones sighed and leaned back. "However, I'm not comfortable with letting you treat this as a family matter. Both of you are Aurors under my command, and I won't tolerate any vigilante actions in my department."
Harry nodded in agreement, but she didn't seem to think that he was being honest.
She snorted again. "We both know that I cannot stop your godfather - his influence is too great, and this would have been a family matter in the past. But you'll do what you can to keep him from running roughshod over our laws and regulations, or you will find out how far my influence reaches. Understood?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Harry snapped.
"Good. Now, I do know that this requires utmost secrecy. Which means other than Scrimgeour and your partner, no one else will be informed about this." She glared at him again.
This time, Harry winced. "In the Department."
Bones closed her eyes. "Who else already knows about this?"
"My godfather trusts his wife and his secretary implicitly," Harry replied.
Judging by the way her jaw muscles twitched, Bones wasn't impressed by his evasion. She turned her head and glared at Tonks, who acted as if she didn't know anything about that. Sometimes, Harry envied her for her talents.
After a moment, Bones sighed. "We will discuss this tomorrow in your home."
Harry nodded. Sirius wouldn't like it, but this was for the best.
*****
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, January 30th, 1999
Hermione Granger wished Mr Fletcher were here in Grimmauld Place. Tonks was a good Auror, and her special talent was certainly very useful, but Mr Fletcher had decades of experience in Knockturn Alley on her. But with Moody and his cursed eye in the house, Mr Fletcher couldn't visit - and neither could they leave for a planning session in Greenwich. Not without Moody noticing, which would make Harry wonder where they were going 'despite the danger' - even though the assassin hadn't been found, much less hired yet. And Mr Fletcher had refused to appear as an 'old acquaintance' of Sirius with 'knowledge of the area' when she had briefly contacted him last night through their mirror. At least he was gathering information in the Alley.
She sighed. "I don't like this. We should be doing something." Anything other than waiting for Harry and Tonks to return from the Ministry.
"There's not much we can do," Jeanne pointed out. "We need more information."
"You know what Harry said," Sirius pointed out from where he was sitting, lowering the weekend issue of the Daily Prophet.
Hermione growled in response. Harry didn't want to do anything without clearing it with Bones first. But he didn't know what they could do. What she could do! Tonks was a metamorphmagus, but Hermione had mastered the art of disguise - and she had gone on undercover missions in Knockturn Alley before! She glared at the dog. If not for him, she would have told Harry everything long ago, and they wouldn't be in this mess.
"What did I do?" the dog faked ignorance.
She huffed in return and tried to focus again on her list of possible enemies willing to hire an assassin. Which was a little too long to be of practical use - someone had a talent for making enemies. Lots of enemies.
Hermione glared at the dog again. Who hid behind the Quidditch results. Which he already knew from listening to the wireless yesterday. When he should have been working on his next bill.
She sighed once more.
*****
London, No 12 Grimmauld Place, January 31st, 1999
"Welcome to Grimmauld Place, Madam Bones, Mr Scrimgeour." Hermione Granger felt as if her cheeks should be hurting from her forced smiles. Having Moody in the house was bad enough, but now Bones and Scrimgeour were invading her home! And she had to smile and welcome them because the dog thought that was proper. At least she didn't have to act as if she weren't simply being polite.
"Miss Granger." Bones nodded at her without any expression on her face.
Scrimgeour smiled at her, but she didn't think he meant it. Or wouldn't have bothered if she weren't Sirius's personal secretary.
"If' you'll follow me to the living room…" She gestured towards the door leading into the hallway. "The others are already waiting." Had Bones twitched at that?
Hermione's smile grew a little more genuine as she led the two guests to the back. Harry was right - Bones must hate having to work not just with, but pretty much under Sirius.
"Ah, Amelia! Rufus!" The dog waved as soon as they entered the room. "Have a seat and a drink!"
"I don't drink on duty," Bones answered. Scrimgeour glanced at her, then nodded. If the boss didn't drink, the subordinates couldn't drink either.
"There's plenty without alcohol," Sirius said. "Jeanne's got some cravings these days, and Hermione was kind enough to go to a muggle shop for some variety."
"I recommend the Diet Cola," Hermione said.
Bones didn't look as surprised as Hermione had hoped. And Scrimgeour availed himself of a normal cola with a nonchalance that clearly showed that he was familiar with muggle beverages. Well, both were experienced Aurors. Former Aurors, to be precise.
"Well, all the drinks seem safe," Ron added. "No suspiciously coloured drinks."
Fortunately, Harry entered, with Moody stuck on a floating chair, before Ron could quote another of Lovegood's - either Lovegood's - theories about magical creatures hiding among muggles.
"Alastor." Bones actually smiled.
"Auror Moody."
"B-b-bones, Sc-sc-sc-scrimgeour." Mody managed to say, shaking while his artificial eye remained steady.
"You're doing better," Bones added.
"A-a-a-w-w-w-w-wake."
Which was not much of an improvement, in Hermione's opinion. She much preferred Aurors unconscious rather than watching her through enchanted eyes. Especially if she couldn't tell if the protections against normal See-Through-Wall Spells worked on his eye or not. Well, she wore a disguise under her mask whenever she went on a heist, so it wasn't a fatal weakness. Still, it was annoying to have to keep taking precautions without knowing if they were truly necessary.
"So now that everyone is here," Sirius said as Tonks and Jeanne quickly stopped whispering to each other, "let's discuss how we're going to catch whoever is looking for an assassin for hire."
"Before they find someone who will actually come after Harry. Or Sirius," Hermione said.
"Or anyone else," Harry just had to add.
Sirius sighed. "Yes, that's what I meant. Anyway - it seems simple. Tonks can use her talents and pass as an assassin, and when she meets with her prospective employer, we snatch them up."
So simple, even a dog could come up with it. Of course, the devil, as always, was in the detail.
"That will require a good background, though," Tonks said, then flinched a little when Bones glared at her. Apparently, she didn't like her Aurors speaking up without permission.
"Creating such a background will be a challenge," Scrimgeour point out.
"Not particularly," Sirius countered. "We can claim she's a veteran from the New World."
"Every local gutter rat with pretensions of grandeur claims that they're a veteran from America," Tonks replied. "That's not exactly a good background."
Moody made noises that seemed to indicate that he agreed with her.
"It just has to be good enough," Hermione pointed out, "to fool the target. And I don't think many locals will accept this job, no matter what background they claim."
"The Ministry's resources in the New World are limited," Scrimgeour said.
"If we're going the American route, we don't need them," Sirius said.
None of the Aurors liked that. Even if it was, in Hermione's opinion, completely true. The risk was acceptable, in her opinion - she had used the same cover story twice so far, after all.
"We usually don't depend on such flimsy cover stories," Scrimgeour said.
"I like a little bit more than a story every drunk hired wand can make up," Tonks added. That was understandable, of course.
Sirius waved those objections away. "If anyone doubts you, just use a few of the family spells to take care of them and you'll have backed up your claims perfectly fine. Easy."
"We do not plan to murder people to make our undercover missions more authentic," Bones spat through clenched teeth.
"The Blacks have non-lethal but impressive curses as well, you know," Sirius said. Hermione didn't think it would be helpful to clarify that most of those spells made the victim wish they had been lethal curses.
"Neither do we plan to cripple people to enhance our cover stories," Bones added.
"We could stage an incident - but that would require extensive use of Ministry resources," Scrimgeour said. Which, given how many Ministry employee were spies for various influential people, would be a foolish idea, in Hermione's opinion.
"We could stage such an incident ourselves," Harry said. "With Polyjuice Potion and disguises."
Hermione bit her lower lip. As tempting as it was to show off her competence, she didn't think she wanted Harry to know just how experienced she was in disguising herself.
"I could help with a French background, or rather, my friends in France could," Jeanne offered.
"That's a very good idea!" Sirius beamed at her.
Tonks cleared her throat. "One problem with that. I don't speak French. Not nearly well enough to fool anyone from France. Which, given the recent recruiting spree and upcoming layoffs, will be a mite more common in Britain for a while than usual."
Hermione wanted to curse. Another fine solution, shot down because people didn't learn foreign languages in Wizarding Britain!
"I think I know how we can use the New World as Tonks's background," Ron suddenly said, smiling.
Hermione tried to remember if any Weasleys had emigrated to the Americas. Or had worked there. She couldn't recall any such case.
And then she remembered who had been to the New World. And winced.
*****
Devon, Ottery St Catchpole, January 31st, 1999
"Is anyone else concerned by the fact that we're relying on the knowledge of a man who hunts imaginary creatures for my background?" Tonks complained.
Harry Potter frowned as Hermione voiced his thoughts. "You agreed to the plan."
"I'm having second thoughts," Tonks said, "and this isn't helping." She pointed at the rook-like building they were approaching.
"Ron assured us that Mr Lovegood can be trusted," Harry defended his best friend. "And I trust his judgement."
"As long as it doesn't concern animals," Hermione qualified the statement. "So, as long as you're not planning to go undercover as an animal, you'll be fine. And if you're planning to go as an animal, you won't need a background anyway, so you'll be fine in any case."
Hermione could be rather catty, Harry noticed as Tonks grumbled about Ron not being objective about Lovegoods while they waited to be allowed inside the wards.
But even Harry had a little doubt when he saw Mr Lovegood approaching them - wearing what looked very much like a uniform straight out of the American Civil War. The muggle one.
"There you are! Ron told me everything! Come in, come in, and we'll get this show on the road, as a good American friend of mine uses to say." He stepped through the wards and touched every one of their group with his wand. "That should do it for the wards."
But when Harry was about to walk through the wards - standing out in the open, near a location he was known to frequent often, made him a little nervous with an assassin after him - Lovegood held him back. "Wait! Wait! You still need the Voracious Mole repellant." He held up a small bottle. "Voley has been a little anxious since Luna went back to Hogwarts, and without that, he'll try to play with you, which can be a little scary for someone not used to his antics."
"Voley?" Harry heard Tonks ask.
"Voracious Mole?" Hermione sounded rather sceptical.
Mr Lovegood either missed or ignored it. "Yes, Luna's latest pet. Adorable, if a little gluttonous. I'm doing my best so he won't feel lonely, but he really prefers Luna."
Harry had never heard of such a creature. And he had received an Exceeds Expectations in his Care of Magical Creatures N.E.W.T.. But he took the bottle and sprinkled a little on his robes. He didn't smell differently, though.
Something he was very glad for when, halfway to the front door, a creature the size of a bear broke through the ground from below and tackled Mr Lovegood to the ground. Only the fact that the man was laughing as he wrestled with the creature kept Harry from cursing it in reflex.
"Down, boy, down… don't worry, I'll feed you right after our guests have settled in! You didn't eat a neighbour's cat again, did you? You know they ruin your appetite." Mr Lovegood managed to extract himself from under the creature - which did look remarkably like a giant, bear-sized vole. With very large claws and jaws - and brushed himself off. "Luna's been trying to teach him not to eat pets, but he's from Africa, and cats of all kinds are part of his natural diet."
Hermione took another dose of the repellent, Harry noticed. It was understandable - even he was a little unnerved by the creature's size, no matter how often Mr Lovegood claimed that the animal had never hurt a person after they adopted it. If Mr Lovegood didn't have to close a few 'scratches' after 'playing' before the blood stained his robes, it would have sounded a little more convincing.
*****
The Lovegoods were crazy. Mad. Bonkers. A public menace.
Hermione Granger pressed her lips together, only half-listening to Mr Lovegood's attempts to teach Tonks a 'proper American accent'. She had to pay attention to the door, which didn't look nearly sturdy enough to keep that giant, cat-eating monstrosity out. And on the ground, of course - the creature could burrow rapidly through soil and only took a little longer to go through rocks. Or so Mr Lovegood claimed.
She couldn't fathom why anyone would want to keep such an abomination as a pet. It was a crime against nature. Cats being its natural diet? Hermione shuddered.
"Are you cold?"
She forced herself to smile at Harry. He meant well, but he couldn't help her. "I'm still a little shaken," she said.
"Ah." He smiled. "Those Voracious Voles are pretty impressive. I didn't know such creatures existed."
She strained to smile at him. "The knowledge about African magical creatures is, unfortunately, still very limited." Mostly because the Sub-Saharan wizarding countries had been wiped out in the 19th century by the ICW's response to their refusal to stop using magic against muggle colonialists, and their knowledge about Magical Africa's creatures had been destroyed with them. To think that part of the Black Family library had been bought with loot from that 'intervention'...
"Well, at least it has proven to Tonks that Mr Lovegood knows what he's doing." Harry smiled.
Or Tonks had been as shocked as Hermione herself but hadn't yet recovered. She did seem to be quieter than usual, in Hermione's opinion.
"I've found the other uniforms!" Ron announced, interrupting their talk as he floated several colourful bundles into the Lovegood's living room.
"Perfect!" their host announced. "It's traditional for mercenaries in the New World to wear parts of old uniforms. That will help you play your role."
"These uniforms seem to be at least a hundred years old," Hermione pointed out as Ron spread them out on the couch.
"Indeed, they are!" Mr Lovegood beamed at her. "But if anyone wore a uniform which is currently in use by a Wizarding Enclave, they would risk being mistaken for a soldier of that enclave."
"And that could be fatal, given the local situation," Ron added. "Too many wars to keep count."
That was hyperbole, Hermione knew - she had studied the New World for her own roles. Though, apparently, not enough to have learned this particular tradition. Although she hadn't been trying to pass as a mercenary, of course.
But this would be useful knowledge should she ever need to.
She watched - without losing track of the door's state, of course - as Tonks was given an outfit made from several wildly different uniforms. It looked like an eyesore, but that, too, was a tradition, or so Mr Lovegood maintained. Well, it would explain Dumbledore's fashion choices, she thought - he had had an American mother.
"It must have really galled Bones that this is, to all intents and purposes, a mission run by civilians," she remarked, leaning against Harry.
"It's an Auror mission," he corrected her. "Tonks, Ron and I will be running it."
"With help from Sirius, Jeanne, me and Mr Lovegood," she replied. "We outnumber you."
"You won't be in the field."
So you think, she thought. There was no way she'd let Harry risk his life alone if she could help it. And if she could help him, too, then so much the better.
*****