London, Diagon Alley, August 31th, 1999, 06.00 hours

Ron Weasley woke up in Hermione's arms. A situation he was becoming quite used to lately. Late last night she had come to his room, straight from work. She hadn't said anything, and he hadn't asked after she had deflected his first question, but she had been different. Not quite shocked, but much more … emotional than usual. Not just passionate during the act, but clingy afterwards, as if she needed to hold on to him or she would lose him.

He wondered what had happened. She hadn't been like that after the battle with the Dark Lord. She was a Wand-Leader, after all. And at risk from the Dark Lord himself. A risk she had no idea about.

He longed to warn her, and yet, he couldn't think of a way to achieve that without ruining his cover. And his brothers were close to finishing their lethal inventions. Even if he managed to capture Hermione to keep her safe, her friends would likely die. And she'd hate him. Even more than for exploiting her love.

He closed his eyes, feeling like the worst wizard in Britain.

He felt her waking up. Her arms started to move around, wrap closer around him while she was still asleep. Then she stiffened, for a moment, realising she was hugging someone. Then he felt her relax, and her arms and hands wander around, after she remembered who she was with. And then…

"Good morning, Antoine…"

He felt her breath on his neck while she whispered into his ear, and stiffened himself.

"Good morning, Hermione."

She tugged at him, pulling on his back while she slid on top of him, a smile on her face. Licking her lips, she seemed to hesitate for a moment, almost as if she was shy, before he pulled her down into a kiss.

He managed to forget his guilt until she had left.

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London, Ministry of Magic, August 31th, 1999, 10.15 hours

Wand-Leader Hermione ignored the usual frantic preparations of the Corps for the Hogwarts Express' departure on September 1st. She had a mission of her own. Cornelius Fudge. She needed to find a way to interrogate him without anyone knowing about it. He was the key in this investigation. The one who was behind this… those crimes. And his interrogation would prove that.

It wouldn't be easy. Fudge wasn't paranoid, but he was security-conscious. He usually had a guard and his secretary with him whenever he left the Ministry for an official reason. Not that he did that often since the attacks by the Fanatics had started - he had taken to almost exclusively traveling via the Floo Network. His home would be warded of course.

But, Hermione thought with a smile, he had a weakness. Two actually. His secretary, Dolores Umbridge, didn't like the Wands, and let them know it at any opportunity. That included sending Wands on guard out on menial tasks as if they were mere unskilled workers. Like fetching meals for her boss, or other purchases.

And that meant that it was an open secret among the Wands that Fudge had a mistress. If she could take the witch's place with Polyjuice, she'd have the perfect opportunity to dose the man with Veritaserum. But for that, she needed to know who his mistress was. That wouldn't be too easy. A Tracking Charm on the next gift Umbridge sent a Wand out to fetch was a possibility, but she would have to be very careful with those. Some of the gifts had been clothes. Anthony had complained a lot about having to fetch dessous. Maybe she should check with Madam Malkin's.

Further plans were interrupted by Dean arriving in their office.

"Did you hear about the last attack?"

"What?" An attack by the Fanatics? Or was he talking about her own actions last night?

"Yes. Someone tried to kidnap Ottokar Merriweather. Fortunately, his nephew John Merriweather was with him, and managed to save the man."

"John Merriweather?" He had been the wizard at the cottage?

"Yes, our suspect. They claim it was a Fanatic, but they seldom attack alone. I think this was related to our investigation," Dean said.

Hermione didn't let her nervousness show. Did he suspect it had been her? "Do you think our suspect took over the family business when his uncle retired? And that he is in trouble with the unknown source of that illicit wealth?"

Dean nodded, and Hermione felt relieved. "Yes. Either a victim, or a greedy partner. Either way, we can use this as a pretext to investigate him further, right?"

She nodded. "It's not quite enough to dose him with Veritaserum, but we should be able to take a very close look at his finances. And maybe at those of his nephew."

Dean grinned, and she smiled, but she wasn't that happy about it. If their investigation uncovered more of what she already knew, then Dean would know about it - and he didn't know Occlumency.

She was in a bind. For the first time in her life, Hermione hoped that they'd not find anything in an investigation.

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Outside Pembroke, Pembrokeshire, United Kingdom, August 31th, 1999, 15.40 hours

"Yes, sir, we need to investigate the entire area. That includes the house," Wand-Leader Hermione said politely while Dean and Colin were already searching the cottage - a bigger task than expected, due to several expansion charms applied to its interior. Ottokar Merriweather looked outraged, but he didn't explode. Pity, Hermione thought - she had her wand ready and could have stunned him at the slightest provocation.

"Is your nephew here?"

"No. He's at work," the wizard spat out.

She nodded. "We'll question him there then. Now, please describe the attack." Her Dicta Quill was already taking notes.

The wizard glared at her again, looked back to the kitchen where Colin was inspecting the pantry, then started to talk. "I was talking to my nephew when I heard this infernal noise from giant frogs."

"What were you talking about with your nephew?"

"Huh? Family business." He briefly looked alarmed, then settled down.

"Ah. Please continue."

"I went outside, to deal with whatever was there, when I was attacked. Blew a hole in my leg, then I knew nothing anymore." He rubbed his calf.

"You were attacked with two spells then?" She knew she had cast three spells.

"Three. One spell shattered my Shield Charm."

"Did you have time to cast the Shield Charm?" Hermione asked.

"Yes."

"So, did you see the attacker before you were hit?"

"No, I did that before I left my house."

"Ah." She nodded. "Did you expect an attack?"

"Can't be too cautious these days," Merriweather grumbled.

"And yet you went out alone. Not even with your nephew," Hermione said, only her expression turning the statement into a question.

"He was covering me from the window."

"That was brave of you. But also foolish."

"We drove the attacker off!"

"Are you certain it was just a single attacker?"

"So my nephew said."

"Did he see him then?"

"No, but he said the spells all came from the same location."

Hermione nodded. She needed to be more careful with that tactic. "Do you have any idea why someone would attack you?"

"No," he said, glowering.

"Do you own anything a thief might target?"

"No."

"So, it was a random attack, which you didn't expect, but were prepared for." She kept her expression bland while Merriweather ground his teeth. "Do you have anything else to add?"

"No."

"Thank you for your cooperation, sir."

Dean left the man's study, nodding at her and patting his pocket. He had copied all documents he had been able to find then. Colin finished taking pictures of the last room.

"Do you have a cellar?"

"No," Merriweather said, too quickly.

Hermione pondered searching for the entrance, but decided against it. She didn't have a solid enough suspicion yet.

"Thank you, Mister Merriweather. We will do our best to capture your assailant."

"You'd better," the man grumbled.

The three Wands left, apparating to the Ministry as soon as they had left the wards. Once back in their office, Hermione cleared the big table. She frowned at Dean when she discovered a box of half-eaten take-out. At least it had been put in stasis. "I can't leave you alone for one evening, huh?"

"One evening, yes. But lately, it's more like almost every evening," Dean retorted.

She didn't quite blush. Part of her felt warm, remembering the reason why she was missing so many meals with her team; part of her was happy that any further absence of hers might be blamed on that as well. And another part of her felt guilty for lying so much to her closest friends.

She pushed those feelings away. "Let's see what you found."

"I have all his records!" Dean emptied his pockets, and the table was covered in tiny scrolls that were quickly unshrunk.

"Good work, Dean. Now let's see what the man tried to hide with all that parchment."

Colin looked eager while Dean groaned, but they would all do their duty.

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London, Ministry of Magic, August 31th, 1999, 18.30 hours

"Alright. Merriweather's records do not show any sign that they have been tampered with," Wand-Leader Hermione summarised the results of the last few hours.

"It was a bust!" Colin exclaimed, obviously annoyed.

Hermione shook her head. "No. It simply means that he's using channels that do not leave records."

Dean nodded. "The muggle world."

"Only partially. Even if he fences the loot there, muggles can't pay him galleons. For that he has to use wizards. Or goblins," she added.

"Only a fool would use goblins to fence illegal loot. Whether it's stolen or illegally imported muggle goods, they'd blackmail him and drain him dry." Dean smirked.

"Which leaves us with wizards. Wizards willing to break the law."

"Knockturn Alley!" Colin piped up, looking excited.

"Exactly," Hermione said, pleased that her youngest team member had caught up. "With the scope of this - all Obliviators have shown unaccounted-for wealth - they have to have something set up there." She didn't mention her knowledge about the crimes against purebloods.

"How do you want to do it? Shake them down, or undercover?" Dean leaned forward.

"Undercover. If we shake them down, someone might warn our targets," Hermione explained.

"Is there a chance they might use memory charms on those wizards?" Dean asked.

"There is, but if they regularly sell whatever they bring back from the muggle world, they can't obliviate everyone all the time; they need to have structures set up." Hermione smiled. "And we'll find them." Banks had mentioned his contacts during the interrogation, but those had been replaced or retired in the years since. Merriweather was likely still doing that kind of business, if his nephew was so close to him, but he was out of her reach, for now.

"Good! We can't track them in the muggle world, but Knockturn Alley is in our jurisdiction," Dean said, sounding very satisfied.

She looked at her friends. "Exactly." Checking her watch, she added. "And it's dinner time."

"Dupont waiting?" Dean asked.

She grinned. "I hope so." They'd go dancing again.

"We need to meet the wizard who makes you stop working on time," Dean said. Colin nodded.

"You did," Hermione pointed out.

"Properly, I mean."

She stared at him for a moment. He wasn't jealous, she was certain of that. She couldn't see a logical reason not to introduce them to Antoine. Though an illogical, selfish part of her wanted to keep Antoine all to herself. "I'll arrange it. Not today though," she added, when Dean perked up with a glint in his eyes. "Without a warning, I'm not going to spring you two on anyone but a suspect."

Hermione left their office while her team members chuckled. Antoine was - hopefully - already waiting for her.

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London, Diagon Alley, August 31st, 1999, 22.51 hours

Ron Weasley was going to hell. In a houndbasket. Or whatever the saying was - his dad sometimes mixed them up. The lies he told were just piling up. He knew his lover was in danger, as was her best friend, and he needed to warn them, without endangering his own family. Or himself.

He closed the door to his room at the Leaky Cauldron, casting a few spells on it, for privacy and security. When he turned around he saw Hermione's robe on the floor, and her smiling at him wearing … were those?

"Do you like it?"

"I wasn't aware Wizarding Britain had that kind of lingerie… certainly another reason to move here!" he said, smiling.

Her face fell for just a second, before she smiled again. "I transfigured them myself, actually."

"You did a good job." She would have had to have a picture at least, as a model. He didn't mention it, of course - as far as he knew, possession of 'muggle items' was prohibited.

"Thank you."

The witch stepped closer, a sly smile on her face, and ran her wand over his robe. He almost didn't hear her whisper.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

His robe flew over his head, landing on a chair, or maybe a lamp. He didn't care. He gathered her in his arms, and carried her to the bed, all thoughts of deceit and dangers forgotten.

Later, lying next to each other with her head on his chest, he finally said what he had wanted to say the whole evening, but always had found reasons - excuses - not to. "You know, I wondered…"

"Hm?" She looked up at him, pushing back her brown mane with one hand.

"Luna was mentioned rather prominently in that article, wasn't she?"

She frowned slightly, though the way her nose seemed to scrunch up just a bit was adorable, he thought. "It's her father's magazine, and she was present. And without her, we'd not have known about the attack, not in time to save them."

"It's not that. It's just… the attack failed, and that monster might take it personally. What if it plans to go after the Lovegoods?" He saw her open her mouth, and went on before she could say something. "It happened back… " he trailed off. "You know. The enemy going after prominent people, to make an example out of them."

She drew in a hissing breath, seemed to ponder something for a bit, then nodded. "The Greengrasses are still considered to be the enemy's main target. It makes sense, of course - the enemy wanted them dead, yet they still live."

He made a note of this small indiscretion about the Wands' orders.

"But," she continued, "the Lovegoods are also in danger. I've given Luna a communication mirror, so she can alert me if the Rookery comes under attack, but…"

"You think it's not enough."

She nodded.

"I may be able to help you with that." It would help his mission, he told himself. The Order did expect an attack on the Lovegoods, and hoped this would lead to another battle between the Ministry and the Dark Lord's forces.

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Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, United Kingdom, September 1st, 1999, 10.20 hours

Ron Weasley stared at the house that looked like a giant chess piece. A rook, to be precise - though more in the style of the muggle chess sets he knew. At least, he couldn't see the trebuchet wizard rooks usually had on the top to shoot the pieces they took. Shaking his head, he said: "Now I know why you wanted us to apparate, instead of taking the Floo network."

Hermione, standing next to him, chuckled. "Yes. It's a very impressive sight from the outside - as long as you haven't seen the inside yet."

"What do you …"

His question was interrupted by a loud scream: "Hermione!"

Luna Lovegood had spotted them, and was rushing towards them. He could see the Wand's eyes widen, before the blonde crashed into her and the two tumbled to the ground.

"Oof! Luna!"

"What? We're not in Diagon Alley, and the grass is soft."

"Never mind."

Hermione untangled herself from her friend and slowly got up. Luna shot to her feet, and tried to tackle Ron. Being much taller, much heavier, and more muscular than Hermione, he stood his ground, though he swung her around once to keep her from hurting herself by crashing into him.

"Whee!" she yelled, finding her balance again. "You should keep that one, Hermione. He's fun!"

Before either Ron or Hermione could comment, she had grabbed their hands and started to drag them towards her home. "Come, come! Father's waiting!"

Ron exchanged a glance with Hermione, expecting her to be slightly flustered, but she was just grinning at him. The reason for her mirth became obvious as soon as he stepped into the house. The Lovegoods' home was cluttered with all sorts of exotic things, covering the walls, the shelves, and peeking out from under couches and inside half-closed chests and trunks. Stuffed animals, both magical and muggle - at least he thought they were stuffed; one seemed to move as soon as he was not looking at it. Body parts and skeletons, thankfully not moving. African tribal masks, American native headdresses, staves and trinkets of all kinds. Muggle guns next to a muggle helmet, and what looked like a washing machine with a TV antenna on top of it made him feel a pang of nostalgia; that looked like his father's office. And parchment and books, more of either than he had ever seen outside the library in Beauxbatons, or the Ministry in Paris.

"I understand now what you meant," he said, and Hermione's grin widened while she nodded.

"Ah, there is our Heroine!"

"Mister Loooof!"

Luna's father was hugging Hermione, lifting her off her feet even. "I have to thank you so much for saving my little girl! I thought she was safe, but apparently, the Greengrasses had been dealing with illegal snake egg smugglers, and attracted the attention of the Indian nagas, who sent an assassin their way. Probably. I've not yet ruled out the possibility of the half-naga, being the result of an affair between Astoria's father and a naga, come to restore the family honour."

Definitely Luna's father, Ron thought, while Hermione smiled - it looked a bit forced to Ron, but that could be because her ribs had to hurt after that hug - and Luna nodded sagely.

"And you must be the wizard who finally caught Luna's best friend's heart! Well met, Mister Dupont!" Mister Lovegood offered his hand, and Ron shook it, then blinked when the man suddenly leaned forward, studying him.

"Hm…" The blond man walked around Ron, who fought the urge to turn to keep facing him. "Tell me, Mister Dupont, do you have British relatives? You remind me of my former neighbours, the Weasleys."

"Err… I don't think so, sir. Though I can't exclude the possibility that some of my ancestors might have had ties to Britain, before they moved to Québec. Centuries ago," Ron added. His parents had never mentioned that 'poor, eccentric Lovegood', their former neighbour, was sharp enough to almost see through his disguise.

"But he cannot be a Weasley, father!" Luna cut in. "Weasleys all have red hair!"

"That could be a glamour, or a curse!" Her father declared, nodding to his own words.

"What?" Ron said.

"Indeed! Let us check!" Mister Lovegood continued as if he hadn't heard, and aimed his wand at Ron.

For a moment, he was torn between drawing his own wand and starting a fight, and apparating away. He could blame old trauma from the war, he bet. He decided to stand and do nothing instead, hoping whatever the wizard was about to cast wouldn't turn his hair red.

It didn't, to Ron's relief.

"No curse, and no glamour," Lovegood said, sounding disappointed. "That would have been a great story though - a relative of the Weasleys, back in Britain!"

Ron forced himself to sound curious and ignorant. "The Weasleys, sir?"

"Blood traitors," Hermione muttered from where she was skimming a book near a pile of musty tomes.

"I would not call them that, myself," Mister Lovegood said, with a glance at the Wand. "They are an old family, very brave, all of them. Gryffindor to the core."

"Loud too, Mum said," Luna added.

"Yes. Molly had a temper. They were our neighbours. Back when the Dark Lord waged his war, they fought for Dumbledore. And when the war was lost, they left with him. Even Muriel Prewett did, and she was not even a Weasley."

Ron heard Hermione scoff, but ignored it, for now.

"They had been prominent supporters of Dumbledore, so they couldn't have stayed, even if they had wanted to." The man sighed. "The Minister had their house razed to the ground."

"It was an interesting one! I saw pictures. Taller than the Rookery. All angles and shingles and wooden…" The tip of Luna's tongue stuck out from her lips while she apparently tried to find a word for walls that rhymed with 'ngles'. "... boards." She finished, with a disappointed expression.

"Interesting," Ron said, in as bland a voice he could form.

"Not as interesting as this house!" Hermione said, slipping her arm into his. "Can you give us the tour?" She added, with a beaming smile.

"Of course! We've found a few more interesting things since you last visited!" Luna stood up from the stack of books she had been using as a seat. "Some we found in our own attic!"

Ron's smile slipped a bit when she added: "They shouldn't be dangerous anymore."

"I would recommend an escape tunnel," Ron said, later, discussing the threat to the house, and possible ways to protect the family.

"But then we'd surrender the Rook!" Mister Lovegood said. "We can't do that!"

"And Hermione will come to save us!" Luna said, beaming at the witch sitting next to Ron around the oval kitchen table.

"Just as a last resort," Ron responded. "Houses can be rebuilt, people can't." His parents had said that often at home.

Hermione nodded, leaning forward. "I would feel much better knowing that you can flee anytime you choose. Otherwise, I'd be worrying about your safety in the middle of the battle."

"Oh!" Luna jumped up, sending her chair sliding back against the wall. "We can't have you distracted! Antoine is distraction enough for you! Father! We need a tunnel!"

"Very well. I shall see if we can purchase one." Mister Lovegood nodded.

"What? Purchase?"

"The goblins are said to use instant tunnels to raid their dwarven neighbours," the man started to explain.

Ron hadn't ever heard of gobins raiding dwarves. "But… that would mean others knew of it. And could sell the secret to your enemies."

Hermione agreed. "It's best to dig the tunnel yourself. I can teach you a few charms that would make it easily, if you want."

"Or we can use the Voracious Mole!" Luna said. She turned to the door, then stopped. "I mean, if we had one."

Hermione groaned. "Luna… please don't tell me you violated the rules about importing magical animals again!"

"Alright!" Her friend chirped. "I won't then!"

"That's not what I... never mind." Hermione sighed.

Ron had the distinct impression that this was not an isolated incident.

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Beauxbatons, September 2nd, 1999, 22.45 hours

Albus Dumbledore put the report of young Mister Weasley down on his desk and pondered its content. The Lovegoods' home was certainly no old wizarding manor. Its wards wouldn't keep the Dark Lord away for any length of time. The protection granted by the various plants surrounding the area - Whomping Willows, mostly - would not slow down Voldemort either, though the Lovegoods would know that, after the daughter had seen him fly away.

The house wouldn't serve well as a battleground; the Death Eaters would be gone too quickly for the Ministry's response. Theoretically, that would make it an ideal target for Severus to recommend to Voldemort to strengthen his position and regain some of the trust he had lost. Though with the escape tunnel that was being dug - by means that Mister Weasley had declined to describe - that would soon change. And given the Dark Lord's vanity, he might want to attack those who had labeled him a 'half-naga' anyway, and Severus would not gain anything from the sacrifice of that family.

Besides, Albus told himself, Severus would still be trusted since it had been his contribution, his help, that had made the Dark Lord's 'return from death' possible in the first place. None of the Death Eaters still loyal to Voldemort had managed to accomplish that. Severus had delivered the ritual that gave the Dark Lord a new body. A ritual that Albus had found. He wondered, sometimes, what Tom would do should he find out that his new, inhuman appearance was due to Albus's careful modification of the ritual, and not a side effect that could not be avoided. If only Albus had dared to alter the ritual even more. If he could have built a physical weakness into the ritual without the Dark Lord spotting it...

Sighing, he leaned back. Their best opportunity was another attack on the Greengrasses. Severus was optimistic that Lucius would agree to letting their new location slip soon enough. That would have to do.