London, Ministry of Magic, September 7th, 1999, 18.30 hours

Wand-Leader Hermione hoped that her friends in the Corps hadn't grown suspicious when she left the Ministry. She knew she hadn't been acting like her usual self during the day, but she hoped they would assume she had some trouble with her lover - Luna, at least, had jumped to that conclusion during lunch, and the muggleborn witch had had to make an effort to convince her friend not to go and hunt down Ron.

It still felt weird, thinking of him as 'Ron' and not 'Antoine'. A former Gendarme and current spy, not a former soldier. An enemy. Former enemy, she corrected herself. She was an enemy now - of the Minister, if not the Ministry. If there was a difference. She was a traitor, though she had been betrayed first. As had all her friends and comrades in the Corps.

"Hermione!"

She stopped and turned around when she heard her name, and barely managed to keep her expression neutral. Draco Malfoy. The son of the Minister.

"Yes, sir?"

"I've read the report about the battle in Ottery St Catchpole. Very impressive." The wizard smiled at her.

"Thank you, sir." That was unexpected. Hermione forced herself to smile in return.

"I would like to discuss this further with you this evening."

"I'm sorry, sir, but I have a prior engagement. I can meet you tomorrow though, at the Ministry."

"Ah. Of course. We'll talk over lunch then. Good evening" Draco Malfoy nodded at her, and started to walk towards the lift.

Hermione hadn't expected that. The Minister's son generally didn't take it well when things did not go as he wanted. She was relieved she had not been forced to either flee, or go along with him - and she was quite certain she knew what he had had in mind when he wanted to 'discuss' something - but she was worried now what he was planning. At the same time, if he was meeting her for lunch he might not want to sleep with her.

Though, knowing what she knew about his father, she couldn't help but worrying what he wanted now.

Trying not to let her thoughts show, she proceeded to apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where Ron was waiting for her.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

London, Diagon Alley, September 7th, 1999, 18.45 hours

Ron Weasley checked if Hermione was alone before opening the door. He was certain she didn't want to betray him - she could have arrested him in the morning already, and he'd be dosed with Veritaserum, or imperiused already - but as he had been taught, you only needed to be careless once to die.

He smiled at her. "Come in!" The way she smiled back, a bit forced, tore at him. It wasn't the smile she had had before their mutual revelations. Nor the shy smile she had when they had started dating. It was the guarded smile of a hurting witch. And it was his fault.

She nodded at him and entered, then took a deep breath when he closed door. He could see her relax.

"Did you have a stressful day at the Ministry?"

She frowned. "I don't lying to my friends. Or keeping the truth from them, keeping them ignorant of such important information."

He winced, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry."

"Why? Oh." She pressed her lips together. "But there is no choice. If they knew, Malfoy would find out as soon as he read their minds."

"That complicates things."

"It does," she said, and he had a feeling she wanted to roll her eyes.

"How often does he meet each Wand?"

She pursed her lips. "He doesn't have a schedule. He likes to talk to us. He visits the young ones at Hogwarts, talks to us there, asks about our plans, what courses we like, our hobbies… he manipulates us perfectly!" she spat out. After a few deep breaths, she continued: "And even if I told them… they might not believe me. Not without proof. They might think I was memory charmed."

"And if you deliver the proof, they might think Fudge was memory charmed as well?"

Hermione nodded.

"So much for the plan to show your friends the truth, and have them take over the Ministry." He sighed.

The witch narrowed her eyes at him. "Was that Dumbledore's plan?"

"No, that was mine," he answered, feeling slightly defensive.

"So, it's back to 'let's have the Dark Lord and the Ministry bleed each other's forces dry'."

He shook his head. "No. Dumbledore will think of something." Hopefully.

"I think with the right preparation, I can convince my team. They will at least see that if I was a traitor or had been memory charmed, I'd simply prepare a trap, and have the same done to them, not use such an elaborate story."

"They don't know Occlumency, though, right?"

She nodded. "But that can be worked around. I'm their leader, I'm the one who talks to the Minister most often. If they meet him, I can memory charm them, if needed."

Ron realised, once again, that his love had a rather ruthless side.

She frowned at him. "It's reversible." She bit her lip. "That would be a good way to deal with Draco Malfoy, too."

What? "What did he do?"

"He invited me to lunch for tomorrow. That's unusual for him. Normally, he simply takes the witches to his bedroom."

Ron clenched his teeth. That was just as Luna had said. But this change? Was the git interested in Hermione?

"I'm not sleeping with him. I'll make him think I did, if needed." She smiled at him.

He thought that wasn't OK either, but better than the alternative. "I didn't expect a Wand to know such spells."

She bit her lower lip. "We're not supposed to. But I thought I should learn about them, to better defend myself against them. Learning them just happened."

"Did you use them?"

"A few times, at Hogwarts. But I'm certain I can cast them perfectly well still."

He didn't think it was a good idea to mention that Draco Malfoy would make a good test subject. "Let's go get something to eat on the way."

"Where are we going?"

"I'll introduce you to my family," he said nonchalantly.

"What?"

She really was cute when she was surprised.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

London, September 7th, 1999, 20.04 hours

Even more than an hour later, Hermione didn't think the comment about meeting his family had been that funny. Nor her reaction. 'Meeting the family' hadn't been something she had ever expected, and the novels she had read at school, courtesy of Luna, had tended to place a vast importance on such an event, and to imply certain things about a relationship.

Granted, meeting Ron's brothers and 'fellow spies', and making more plans to overthrow the Minister was certainly more important than… well, a witch could dream. Even a muggleborn one with no family left.

"Something wrong?" Ron's voice interrupted her thoughts. He had already finished his part of the pizza slices they had bought at a stand while waiting for the muggle bus.

She shook her head. "I'm not that used to wearing muggle clothes. I feel inappropriately dressed." She looked around.

He chuckled. "You're dressed perfectly to fit in with the muggle clubbing crowd."

"We're not mingling with that crowd though," she said. When he looked surprised, she added: "I'm not entirely clueless about muggles."

Instead of feeling chastised for his assumptions, Ron grinned. "You were breaking the Ministry law before you found out the truth, hm?"

She felt her face flush just a bit. "In the line of duty."

He nodded, and managed to make her feel even more flushed just with his expression. She glared at him, and he finally looked somewhat cowed.

"Sorry… I'm just a bit nervous about the meeting with my brothers." Ron winced.

"Why?" That didn't sound too promising. Of course, fraternisation with the enemy would be problematic. And they were purebloods, and she was a muggleborn…

"They've got a particular sense of humour."

"That's not very informative." And didn't sound that bad, to be honest. Dean had a peculiar sense of humour too. Not to mention Luna.

"They like pranks. And they're rarely serious. Even if they are creating devices meant to kill dozens."

That on the other hand sounded ominous. No Wand would be fooling around when lives were on the line.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

"So, that's the infamous Wand-Leader Hermione!"

"She looks much smaller than you made us expect."

"But that could just be an act."

"Ron's a bit gullible when it comes to pretty faces. Remember Michèle?"

Hermione, standing in a rather bland muggle room, found herself the subject of intense scrutiny from Ron's older brothers. Ron's older identical brothers. Who had their wands drawn, if not quite aimed at her. Despite the grins the two flashed at her, she felt as if she was just one wrong movement away from a fight. And a part of her wanted to know who Michéle was.

"Cut it out," Ron cut in. "I told you, she's seen through Malfoy's lies. And you tested me for the Imperius and potions already."

That was news to her. She glanced at him, and he shrugged. "I'd not spring you on them without some warning."

She nodded slowly. He was a spy after all, and his co-conspirators would be suspicious of her motives. She turned her attention back to the twins. "I expect you'll be testing me as well then?"

They nodded, grinning.

She added, with narrowed eyes: "As long as you stick with the tests needed to determine if I'm a danger to your mission."

Fred - if that was his name - glared at Ron. "Someone spread tales."

Ron huffed. "I didn't have to. You're not as slick as you think."

"There you have it, George, the field agent's experience at work."

George nodded. "The field agent who fell for the enemy."

Ron rolled his eyes. Hermione cleared her throat. "Might we get on with those tests? We don't have all night to spend on this."

"Of course not! Far be it from us to keep you from doing… 'other things'!" Fred exclaimed.

She turned to Ron and spoke in the most bored tone she could manage. "They sounded more entertaining in your stories. Maybe we should test them?"

"Hey!"

Ron chuckled while his brothers frowned.

"At least she has some spine," muttered George.

"She hasn't met Mum yet," his twin said.

The actual tests were far less extensive than she had expected. She simply had to walk through a curtain of liquid. "Thief's Downfall?" She asked. It must have cost a fortune to get the goblins to part with one.

"Inspired by it." Fred grinned.

That was very impressive. If they had managed to copy one of the most famous goblin accomplishments, they were far more talented than they appeared.

"You'd not believe us if we told you that clothes prevent it from working, would you?" George said, leering at her.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Are you certain that they are your older brothers, Ron?" she asked while stepping through the curtain. The liquid seemed to evaporate as soon as she was past it.

"Physically, yes. Mentally, they're somewhere between our post owl and Ginny's pet puffskein," Ron said.

"Hey now! Our little brother wasn't that mouthy when we came to Britain!"

"Cherchez la femme, indeed. Corrupted by the exotic temptress of the vile enemy. Mum will be so sad."

She snorted despite herself while the twins ran a few more spells over her. Ron didn't seem to find it funny though.

"Are you satisfied now?" she asked. They had plans to make, after all. She couldn't spend too much time away from her friends, even with Ron.

Fred nodded. "Yes. Let's go to Dumbledore now."

Dumbledore? Here? In Britain? She whirled around to stare at Ron.

He shook his head. "I didn't know about this, trust me!"

Judging by the glare he shot at his brothers, she was inclined to believe him. That didn't mean she felt any better about meeting one of the two most infamous and most dangerous wizards she knew about.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Argelès-sur-Mer, France, September 7th, 1999, 21.03 hours

Hermione was more nervous than she was used to. She hoped it wasn't obvious to everyone. Travelling through a vanishing cabinet was bad enough - she had no idea where she was, and if it even was in France. But to meet Albus Dumbledore, the infamous leader of Britain-in-Exile, as one newspaper called him, or 'The Headmaster-Who-Was', according to The Quibbler! A few days ago she'd have drawn her wand, and either gotten herself killed, or escaped to inform the Corps.

Now though, he might be her best hope to get revenge on Malfoy and stop her fellow Wands from serving that criminal. If he was not another manipulative Dark Lord, of course.

"Good evening, Professor!" Ron said. Her lover looked nervous himself - he hid it, but she knew some of his tells, by now. Or thought she knew.

"Good evening, Mister Weasley."

Dumbledore looked quite harmless, but a member of the Investigative Branch knew not to trust appearances. Or anything else but hard facts.

"Professor, this is Wand-Leader Hermione," Ron continued. "Hermione, this is Professor Dumbledore. The leader of Britain's exiles."

The young wizard was reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist. Hermione couldn't tell if it was possessively, or protectively, or both. She took a step forward and evaded him; she would stand on her own. She didn't check how Ron reacted. Didn't want to.

"Good evening, sir."

"Good evening, Miss Hermione," the old wizard said, smiling at her. "Please have a seat."

She'd rather stand, but that would make her look both rude and nervous, and so she sat down on the couch the wizard had conjured. Ron sat down next to her, but not as close as usual.

The professor conjured a seat for himself. "Mister Weasley told me you found out about the manipulations Lucius used to fool the youngest generation of British Muggleborns into loyally serving him."

The witch nodded. "Yes, sir. I investigated the Obliviators, found irregularities, observed their crimes, and then tracked the conspiracy back to the Minister himself through Fudge."

Dumbledore sighed. "Ah, Cornelius. I assume it was too much to hope that he would manage to keep his office as neutral as it traditionally was. The Obliviators took no sides during the war, but obviously that changed after the fall of the government." He shook his head. "But to know the depths he sunk to, to preserve his position..."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that, and simply nodded.

"But I digress. You wish to save your fellow Wands from being duped pawns of that man, and bring those who did so much harm to you and your families to justice."

It wasn't a question, but she answered it anyway. "Yes, sir."

"I and a few of my friends and allies might be able to help you, just as you could help us. But in order to join forces, I need to both know you can keep our secrets, and that you can be trusted."

Her eyes widened. "Legilimency?"

He nodded. "I will need to test how skilled you are in Occlumency, and if you are not planning to betray us. It should not take too long, but it will hurt."

She nodded, focusing her will as he aimed his wand at her.

"Legilimens!"

At first, she could not feel anything, but some faint, light touches. Seeking a weakness to slip into her mind, she realised. She kept her focus, reinforcing her walls. She would not be fooled.

After a few minutes, he nodded. "So far so good."

Then he came at her mind again, and this time his mental probe felt like a blow to the head. She ground her teeth to avoid crying out in pain. Taking deep breaths, she kept meeting his eyes, trying to fortify the imaginary walls around her mind. It didn't work well - he was battering them down with relentless pushes and probes. She gave up trying to keep him out, and switched to burying her important memories under irrelevant ones.

He cut through those attempts at subterfuge like a dragon smelling blood and dove into her memories, laying her thoughts bare to his probes, until she was unable to even try to resist any longer, and had trouble thinking at all.

She came to with a splitting headache, stretched out on the couch, her head in Ron's lap while the wizard glared at Dumbledore. The professor did not seem to be perturbed by the hostility shown, and calmly addressed her: "You have impressive mental defenses, Miss. I broke through them, but I have more experience and talent than most, and it still took me longer than I expected. I rather doubt anyone but Voldemort will be able to break into your mind." He nodded and she felt oddly pleased at the compliment. "Still," he continued, "operative security demands that you cannot be privy to too many details - torture can loosen the tongue of anyone, after all. But I know you can be trusted as an ally."

Ron took her hand, squeezing it. He looked relieved. Hermione would have glared at him, for doubting her, if her head had not hurt that much.

"Now, let's talk about how we can help each other…"

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Argelès-sur-Mer, France, September 7th, 1999, 22.30 hours

Albus Dumbledore watched as young Mister Weasley and his paramour left through the vanishing cabinet. Miss Hermione was a formidable young witch. Very stubborn, very brave, and with a strong sense of justice. To see people such as her serve Lucius's regime was depressing, and yet it also gave him hope that the damage Lucius had done to their country during his rule was not as severe as the old wizard had feared. If there were witches and wizards like Miss Hermione, even if they were duped, then the Minister had not corrupted the entirety of society.

Which made what he was about to do even harder. He had talked with the young Wand-Leader, and he agreed with her opinion that it would be nigh-impossible to convince the entire Corps that they had been manipulated and abused practically from birth. Which meant that he had to consider them assets of the enemy. The witch was certainly aware of that as well, but she hadn't talked about it, and he knew she didn't want to think about it. Once she had come to terms with what she had discovered these past few days, then she would, though - his intrusion into her mind had shown him that she generally did not shrink away from facing the truth, no matter how much it hurt.

But how would she react? Would she accept that not all of her friends - her family, as she knew them - could be saved? That even misguided as they were, they were a threat? That he could not tell with any certainty, but he had reasons to hope she would accept the bitter truth.

Though Albus at least had a plan to save as many of the Wands as possible. Lucius had created a system that concentrated all the power in his hands. Apart from Augustus, he had no credible rivals in Britain left. The Wands' first loyalty was to him. If Lucius died at the hand of the returned Dark Lord, the Wands would focus on the Death Eaters to avenge him. The rest of Britain though would be shocked, and the Ministry might be willing to welcome the exiles back, to defeat a common foe - Albus knew that his reputation as the only one the Dark Lord ever feared had not suffered too much in Britain; Lucius had used him as an external threat for political gains.

Draco and Narcissa would have to die as well though. As Lucius's family, they might manage to transfer the Wands' loyalty to them, and neither Draco nor Narcissa could be trusted with power. By all accounts, Draco combined the worst aspects of Lucius and Narcissa: Arrogance, cruelty, and stupidity. And his mother was not quite as cunning as she thought, but had all the Black's traditional pride and thirst for vengeance.

With the Malfoys gone though, Albus would just have to contend with disorganised pureblood families Lucius had intentionally kept divided and weak. Augustus would be the only real threat, but if things went according to plan, Augustus would be dead before Lucius.

The man rarely left the Department of Mysteries these days, and Albus was quite certain that the Horcrux Harry had felt in the Ministry was in that wizard's hands. Two pixies with one spell, as his brother used to say.

Narcissa was not the only one with a penchant for vengeance, after all. Albus didn't plan to avenge his family, but he was not averse to take revenge when the opportunity presented itself.

First though, he had to figure out how to use Miss Hermione's talents in his plan to break into the Department of Mysteries.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

London, Diagon Alley, September 8th, 1999, 00.45 hours

Ron Weasley was slightly nervous when Hermione entered his room at the Leaky Cauldron. The meeting with Dumbledore had gone well, as far as he could tell, after that awful 'test'. But the witch had been uncharacteristically silent on the trip back, and he didn't think that was simply due to a desire to not risk anyone eavesdropping - they had been using muggle transportation, a cab this time, after all.

He knew she did not fully trust Dumbledore. She had refused his offer to store a copy of her memories, just in case she should be hit with a Memory Charm. Ron thought she was planning to store a copy of her memories herself, but didn't want to ask. He did hope that she'd trust him with it though.

"So…" he said, eloquently.

"Yes?"

"What do you think of Dumbledore?"

The witch pursed her lips. "He's impressive, though that is to be expected of the wizard who defeated Grindelwald. He sounds very persuasive, understanding and friendly, but… so did Malfoy." She frowned. "A man in his position, fighting Malfoy and Voldemort, he can't be a nice man."

Ron winced. Hermione didn't sound as if she would have an easy time dealing with Malfoy's betrayal. Her trust in others had been dealt a harsh blow, and it extended to others, such as Dumbledore, possibly himself. "I can't deny that Dumbledore is fighting a war, with all that entails. But he is a good man."

"'Good Wands have to make hard decisions'," Hermione quoted at him.

He didn't think it was prudent to point out that this was something taught to her under Malfoy. She was hurt enough without making her question her skills and training. He sat down on the bed. "He's on our side though."

"Our side?"

"You and me." He looked at her.

After a second that felt like an hour to him, she smiled faintly and nodded. He noticed her looking at the bed, and wondered if they'd sleep together. She had spent the night in his arms, the night before.

The smile she showed then made him hope for something more, even though he was not certain they were ready for that again.

The alert from Percy ended that line of thought. His brother needed help!