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38- Productive Planning

London, Diagon Alley, October 1st, 1999, 12.15 hours

Hermione was still feeling guilty when she was on her way to lunch with Ron. Not because she hadn't been able to tell Sarah anything that the Wand-Commander hadn't already known about Sirius Black after her dates with the wizard. That was actually a good thing - Hermione hadn't been forced to choose between betraying Sirius's confidence, or lying to Sarah.

No, she had felt guilty because she hadn't been able to help Sarah with her dilemma. The Wand-Commander couldn't exactly interrogate her paramour with Veritaserum, and rumours to that extent wouldn't have much credibility. Not with Sirius appearing to be one of the most trusted friends of Dumbledore. But hiding the relationship would be impossible - or close to impossible. Sarah was the leader of the Wands. Her security wouldn't allow her to sneak out for a date without half the Corps knowing. But to break up… could it be called breaking up if there had only been a few dates, at most? She wasn't an expert on such matters anyway.

She was still pondering the problem when she reached the restaurant where Ron was waiting. And Luna. And Harry. And Ginny.

"Hello." Hermione tried not to feel irritated. She had expected lunch with Ron alone, but Luna was her best friend, and Harry was Ron's.

"Hermione!" Luna stood up and hugged her. "We've been waiting for you!"

"Ron was about to start ordering," Ginny said, earning a glare from her brother.

Hermione kissed Ron, then sat down next to him, checking the menu even though she knew the selection by heart.

"Have you read the special edition of The Quibbler, about the riot in Diagon Alley?" Luna asked after they had ordered.

Hermione had. It was an atypical article, without any of the quirks often present in the magazine. No comments about how ashwinders would have been able to use the fires to breed. No other fantastic beasts being mentioned. Just the raw, sad truth. "I did. I think you covered the incident well."

"Hopefully it'll help with all the rumours. People have been glaring at me!" Ginny said. Harry reached over and rubbed her back.

"They're not glaring at us now," Harry said.

"That's because this is a restaurant that catered to half-bloods and muggleborns," Ron said. "The laws have changed, but British purebloods still don't frequent it. British purebloods who did not go into exile, I mean…"

Hermione wondered how many among Ron's generation of the exiles saw themselves as British purebloods. And how long the distinction would remain. Out loud she said: "The Dark Lord seems to be focusing on the purebloods with his propaganda."

"Well, the half-bloods certainly wouldn't want to return to being second-class citizens," Ginny said.

Hermione shrugged. She didn't share that opinion. "Some of them might not have taken well to the Wands no longer being obedient servants." Slaves in all but name, even.

"Their illusions have been shattered," Luna said.

"The Dark Lord can't promise half-bloods much though, not without losing support from the pureblood fanatics," Harry said. "Which is ironic, given his own parentage."

"You mean his naga ancestry? Or are the rumours true that he is not a half-naga, but is a descendant of a common grass snake?" Luna had pulled out her notepad and quill.

"I was talking about the Dark Lord being a half-blood," Harry tried to explain.

"Of course. Half-wizard, half-naga. Or half-snake." Luna smiled brightly. "We'll have to publish this new revelation about him possibly faking naga ancestry. Maybe the naga houses will take steps to punish him for this transgression against their honour!"

Hermione exchanged a glance with Ron, smirking at Harry's expression. She doubted that nagas read The Quibbler, or would care, but stranger things had happened. Which reminded her of Sarah's troubles. "How's your godfather doing?"

"Chasing your leader," Harry said. "According to him, quite successfully." He frowned. "She's not the vengeful type, is she?"

"She's a Wand." Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Do you think he's toying with her feelings?" Why else would he ask that, she wondered.

"I don't know," Harry answered. "He hasn't had many relationships that lasted longer than a few weeks."

"Not many that lasted longer than a night, you mean," Ginny added, scowling.

"That's not true," Harry retorted. "That's just what the witches who expected more than he ever promised claim."

"Daddy says that a wizard will settle down as soon as he has found the right witch, but not before," Luna said.

"Well, Sirius certainly is looking very hard," Ginny said.

Harry frowned, but didn't contradict his girlfriend.

Ron chuckled. "Who knows, maybe Sarah is the right witch for him. Wands certainly are great witches," he added, with a smile to Hermione.

She smiled back. Then she sighed. "No matter what the nature of their relationship, they face trouble though. Rumours claim that Sirius is seducing her to use the Corps for Dumbledore."

"Rumours among the British purebloods, or among the Wands?" Ron asked.

"Both."

Harry scowled. "If Sirius hears this, he'll be even more determined to chase Sarah. I can already hear him declare that the Dark Lord will not be allowed to ruin his chances with a witch."

"Voldemort probably wants that. It plays right into his hands," Hermione said. "Adds credibility to the stories."

"Why doesn't anyone suspect that Sarah's seducing Sirius to control Dumbledore?" Luna asked. "It sounds rather unfair!"

"It's rather far-fetched." Hermione knew all involved reasonably well.

"That never seems to matter where rumours are concerned," Ron said.

He was correct, Hermione knew. And, she realised, that might help Sarah. At least with the Wands who might take offense at a pureblood exile trying to seduce the Wand-Commander.

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London, Ministry of Magic, October 1st, 1999, 15.30 hours

Albus Dumbledore was right on time for his meeting with Wand-Commander Sarah. There was not a minute to be wasted, in his opinion, not with the Dark Lord on the run. A cornered beast was usually twice as dangerous, after all. Sirius was with him. The younger wizard had insisted. Albus hoped there was more than just stubbornness and wounded pride behind it, or the animagus's presence might turn out to be more hindrance than help.

Sarah received them in her office, in the company of Benjamin and two Wands serving as guards. Miss Hermione wasn't among them. Albus hadn't expected her - news of her relationship with young Mister Weasley must have made the rounds, and even if there was no suspicion on her, as Albus had heard, Sarah would not be the leader she was, had she placed the witch in a position where she might have to choose between betraying her love, or her family. Or Sarah might not trust the witch. He hoped for the former.

"Good afternoon, Wand-Commander."

"Hello Sarah." Sirius sounded more subdued than Albus had expected. Not boisterous or defiant.

"Professor Dumbledore. Sirius." The Wand-Commander's voice was even. Guarded. "You asked for a meeting to discuss the next steps in the war against the Dark Lord."

"Indeed." Albus smiled, managing - or so he hoped - to turn it from a diplomat's smile into a honest one. "The recent attack on Diagon Alley proves that even when forced from his last hideout, he is still a danger to Wizarding Britain that will only grow stronger and more powerful given the opportunity. He cannot be allowed a moment's respite."

"The attack also has revealed unrest among the population. The British wizards do not trust the Corps as much as they did in the past. And at least a part of them has grown suspicious of you, sir." Sarah stood straight, and met his eyes without flinching.

He was tempted to read her mind, to discern her true thoughts from what she would use to sound him out, or as a bargaining ploy. He didn't, though. He had already strained their trust in him, perhaps even broken it. Another transgression would utterly shatter it, no matter how convenient it might be in the short term. "That is true, but the purebloods' fear of us - of us both - will not be laid to rest if the Corps focuses on keeping the peace at home. They are manipulated and encouraged by the Dark Lord; removing him from the picture will do far more to quell such unrest than anything else." Without Voldemort, they'd not see any way to defy the Ministry.

"Do you consider the British purebloods so easily led astray then?" Sarah asked.

"In a word, yes." Albus snorted. "They haven't really impressed me with either wit or spine. Unlike the Wands." He didn't like to make this about blood, but Wizarding Britain had been taught for a generation that blood mattered. It was rather ironic that Lucius's lies would turn out to be proven correct in such a twisted way, with the muggleborns' blood now mattering since it was the reason for their training and upbringing.

"That sounds like flattery," Benjamin said.

"You haven't heard much flattery then," Sirius answered, apparently taking the other wizard's words as an invitation to enter the conversation himself. "The best flattery is the truth," he added with a smile towards Sarah.

The Wand-Commander didn't react, not visibly at least. "Leaving that aside, having us deploy in force to fight the Dark Lord will leave most of Britain defenseless. How can you know that the Dark Lord is not planning on this?"

"We can track him wherever he moves to," Albus assured her.

"Your spy was killed," Sarah said.

"I did not rely on Severus to track the Dark Lord," Albus said.

"You either have another spy, or… the boy!" Benjamin exclaimed.

Albus nodded. Another of his secrets revealed. "I do not have to tell you that revealing this would endanger both Harry and our best strategy."

The Wand-Commander nodded and Albus hoped her frown was due to her considering his advice patronising, and not because she felt distrusted. "If we strike at the Dark Lord, then there need to be some changes to the plan we used before."

Albus kept his smile from widening. He was now certain she'd agree. "Of course. What do you propose?"

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An hour later, the meeting had turned into a planning session, a very productive planning session, in Albus's opinion. Sarah's proposals had been as ruthless as he had expected, and entirely suitable for dealing with Voldemort and his followers - although dealing with the Horcruxes would still require his personal intervention. Albus wasn't about to share that secret with the Wands. Not just because of the danger of Tom finding out about his knowledge, but because the Wands' training had left them a bit too prone to using the Dark Arts, in Albus's opinion. They were not dark wizards and witches, but they freely used certain tools most would shy away from. Another problem to be addressed after Tom had been dealt with.

"So… with that out of the way, do you fancy a cup of tea together?" Sirius smiled at Sarah.

The wizard obviously either didn't notice, or ignored Benjamin's frown, Albus thought. Knowing Sirius, he would be betting on the latter, were he prone to gambling. He wasn't that fond of Sirius' flirting himself, but at least the wizard had waited until they had come to an agreement about their attack on Voldemort.

Sarah hesitated, though after a glance to Benjamin, she pushed her chin forward and nodded. "I think I do."

"Splendid!" Sirius offered the witch his arm, though that just earned him a raised eyebrow. The wizard didn't seem to let that deter him though.

Albus turned his attention to Benjamin. The leader of the Investigative Branch of the Wands of Britain was both smart and influential, and his reaction to Sirius' courting of the Wand-Commander might be illuminating. A faint shaking of his head was the only visible reaction to Sarah and Sirius moving to the teapot in the corner giving Albus no further clues to his opinion. The wizard might disapprove of the match because Sirius was a pureblood, or an exile. It might be due to Sirius's character - Harry's godfather generally took some time to get used to, more so for wizards. Or it might be due to the Wand harboring some feelings for the Wand-Commander himself. Albus chuckled, ruefully, at the realisation that he might have been able to solve this puzzle, had he been more interested in gossip.

Benjamin hadn't missed Albus's reaction, and his frown grew more pronounced. "Do you think this is amusing?" he asked in a voice low enough so it wouldn't carry to the couple in the corner.

The professor shook his head, and answered in a similarly low voice: "Not in particular, though young people in love is a sight I am quite fond of."

"He doesn't look the type to be in love. Or not for long," the Wand commented.

"I wasn't aware you knew him," Albus responded mildly. "Unless you base this judgment on certain articles in the press."

"Do you claim that his reputation is entirely the work of journalists with an overly active imagination?"

Albus sighed. "No. But those articles were, at best, sensational. While Sirius certainly appreciates the witches, as the saying goes, he does not deceive them about his intentions. The Wands do not strike me as the sort of witches who would read more into a wizard's courting than was intended and offered."

Benjamin didn't comment on that, but asked: "And what does he intend?"

"That," Albus answered, "I think is a question best asked to the two directly concerned."

From the way Benjamin's frown deepened, the old wizard deduced that such a question wouldn't be asked anytime soon. At least not to Sarah.

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London, October 1st, 1999, 19.48 hours

Ron Weasley found Harry and Ginny in a rather sombre mood when he arrived at the safehouse. He wasn't surprised - Dumbledore would have informed Harry about the attack planned for the next day as soon as possible. His sister and his best friend were holding each other, and barely moved to greet him.

He sighed, sitting down on an old armchair. Hermione should be joining them in a bit. She was stuck at the Ministry, preparing for the attack, or so he assumed - she hadn't gone into details.

After a minute or two without any word from the two on the couch, he cleared his throat. "I can leave, or you could move to the bedroom."

That earned him two glares. Progress, of sorts.

He held up his hands. "Sorry."

"No, you're not," Ginny claimed. "But keep it up, and you will be."

"Save your anger for the Death Eaters," he shot back.

"I've got enough for everyone," his sister said.

"While I know better than to try and get between two Weasley siblings in a fight," Harry said, "Now certainly is not the time."

Ron nodded. "Sorry. Just…" he trailed off.

"Jittery about tomorrow?"

"Yes." He sighed. "Sort of."

"You've been in battles before," Ginny said, almost accusingly.

"Yes." With his real identity now known, he would be able to fight in the upcoming battle. "But I've never fought in a large battle. And not with the Wands."

Harry understood. "You want to be with Hermione in the battle."

"And I don't know if I should." He sighed again.

"Did you ask her?" Ginny sat straighter in Harry's lap.

"I haven't had the opportunity yet," Ron admitted. Or rather, he hadn't thought to talk about that, despite knowing that there would be another battle.

Ginny shook her head and muttered something Ron was certain was a rude comment about boys, or about himself. Louder, she said: "Well, ask her. Then you'll know."

He almost snapped back that Hermione would need to be here to be asked, but held his tongue. Losing his temper wouldn't do any good to anyone.

He didn't want to think about it, but this could be the last evening for one or all of them. He'd rather not spend it arguing.

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The Weald, Kent, Britain, October 1st, 1999, 22.17 hours

The Dark Lord Voldemort carefully closed the door behind him before climbing down the stairs to the lowest level of the basement. No one but him had ever set foot in this room. This laboratory, to be precise. He looked around. The spells had kept the room in the same condition he had left it, decades ago. The massive marble table. The oaken shelves, crammed full of notes and tomes thought lost by most. And the circle etched into the polished stone floor, lined with silver and the remains of red candles, and caked with dried blood.

He had worked great things here, crossed boundaries few, even among the most infamous dark wizards of the past, had even dared to approach. And in his brilliance, he had succeeded where so many had failed before him. And after all this time, he had finally a use for his creations.

He opened the door at the other side of the room, revealing a long tunnel lined with alcoves on both side.

A flick of his wrists, and the figures in the alcoves started to move.

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